Tumgik
#bound by the past headers
strawberrystepmom · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader
word count: 3.6k
about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.
contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).
notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!
header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡
Tumblr media
“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”
How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner? 
“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.” 
You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.
He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.
For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips. 
“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.
God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.
The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.
“I know more about both of you than you think.” 
Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.
Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.
“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.
“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”
Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.
You do not fight him off.
“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”
He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.
“Nothing to say for yourself?”
Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.
“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.
“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.
The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.
It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.
It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…
Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar. 
“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”
This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.
“What do you mean?”
A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.
“Interesting.” 
His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you. 
“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.
Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.
“Suguru.”
You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.
“Kenjaku, actually.” 
He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.
Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing. 
Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.
“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.
His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.
“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”
Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.
Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.
Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.
You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock. 
When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.
“You’re so impatient.” 
The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked. 
“As good as you imagined?”
Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel. 
It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel. 
Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him? 
You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.
“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”
Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length. 
His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip. 
You like this. You want this.
He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.
Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.
“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth. 
You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.
“Kill me.”
Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below. 
“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.” 
Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.
Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.
The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.
535 notes · View notes
pandoraslxna · 10 months
Text
Special Friends – Chapter 4
adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader
Tumblr media
Words: 4.9k
Summary: You’re so eager to learn new things, but only if it’s Neteyam teaching you.
Warnings: explicit smut, friends with benefits, heavy corruption kink, innocent / virgin reader, manipulative behavior, jealousy, obsessive & possessive behavior, first time oral (m receiving), praise kink
Notes: The Neteyam art for the header was made by the incredible @cinetrix <3
Tumblr media
Jealousy is a tumultuous emotion, like a storm brewing within. It feels like a sharp pain in the chest, or a knot in the stomach that won't let go. The mind races with thoughts of what could have been, what should have been, and what might be. It's a feeling of wanting what someone else has, and feeling resentful that you don't have it. Jealousy can be all-consuming, like a fire that burns, leaving you feeling helpless and out of control. It's a reminder of our own insecurities and vulnerabilities, and the fear of losing what you hold dear.
Jealously wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam was very familiar with. You were pretty much bound to the hip since you were children, and after growing up together, with him acting like your shadow, no one even dared to try and talk to you. There was never a reason for him to be jealous. No one would try and court the girl that hadn’t left Neteyams side since she had learned to walk.
When Neteyam had first met you, he instantly felt this strong urge to protect you. He wasn’t much older than you, but you were so small. So tiny and fragile. These urges were only solidified by both of your parents and basically everyone telling him to look out for you, take care of you. And that he did. Every hour and every second of the day, for all of his life up until now.
Everyone knew how close you and him were, but nobody knew exactly how far it extended. 
"What? Right now?"
Neteyam couldn’t help but scoff, amused at the sight of you tugging on his arm, cheeks flushed red while you tried to avoid his intense eyes.
You’ve done this countless of times in the past couple of weeks. Begging for him to touch you, wanting him to help you out whenever you felt… strange. And oh by eywa, did you want it often. At some point, you even stopped caring if you were in public. You would tap his shoulder, tug on his arm or squeeze his hands and Neteyam would know.
He always knew exactly what you were so wordlessly begging for.
Perhaps it makes him a bad person to give in so easily, to manipulate you purposefully, get you so needy to the point you can’t even keep it together in public. But in the end, he's always making his special girl feel good, taking care of your needs in a way no one else can. He can't be that bad if you’re whimpering and begging for more, right?
He would grin that smug grin of his, pull you to the side where no one could see, before he swirled you around, both of your hands planted firmly against a tree. And then he would sink down to his knees and get a taste of that sweetness pooling between your thighs.
Neteyam was drowning in your arousal, in your need and desperation, every single day– sometimes even several times. He would give and give, whatever you desired and sometimes he would even get something in return.
But with every passing day, Neteyam felt like you needed his help more often. Not that he minded, of course. At some point, though, he came to realize that this simply wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more, so much more than just his hands, fingers, mouth or tongue. Something he was dying to finally give to you.
He's been holding back thoughts of corrupting your innocence for so long… he couldn't wait to have you. To really have you. All of you.
Unfortunately, the great mother seemed to have other plans for him.
Around a week ago, Neteyam had to accompany his father and the other warriors to a supply raid near the eastern sea. A two days flight to their brothers and sisters of the allied tayrangi clan, followed by a three days stay in which they would accompany the clan on their raid of the RDA resource trains. Thankfully, the raid was successful and the week away from home went by faster than he originally thought. The war party returned to the clans cheerfully shouts, welcoming their warriors with open arms.
At their arrival, Neteyams heart was already racing with anticipation. It’s only been a week, yet his longing for you had only continued to thrive. You’ve never been apart for so long before.
He tries to contain his excitement, but his eyes light up simply at the thought of you. His mind is flooded with memories of your time together, moments you had shared that he'll always treasure, and his loincloth feels significantly tighter by the second, eager to finally have you close to him again.
After landing his ikran safely, the oldest Sully dodged all kind of congratulations for the successful raid and questions about his well-being, in order to look for you.
On the way through the village, Neteyam passed a secluded spot, right next to where the human laboratories were located. He was in such a hurry, that he almost didn’t see you, but there you were. A little hidden by a towering frame of dark blue skin looming over you, with your back pressed against a tree.
The sight made him stop dead in his tracks, his ears twitching, trying to hear what was going on before he would approach you.
"You’ve got some very pretty lips", the stranger said and a feeling of extreme annoyance crept up Neteyams spine, followed by a burning sensation from deep within his stomach, like a fire spreading inside him. Jealousy. That’s what jealousy must feel like.
The unknown omatikaya then reached out, cupping your face in one of his hands, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes widened briefly, a look of puzzlement adorning your features that would normally make him melt. But now, it just made him angry. Angry, because this look wasn’t directed at him. Angry, because you looked flustered and uncomfortable with the unwanted attention, your hands nervously fiddling with the songcord that was tied to your loincloth. Because it wasn’t him touching you, talking to you like this.
Neteyams feet moved before his mind even made the decision to do so, utilising years of experience in stealth as a warrior and skilled hunter to approach the two of you as quiet as possible.
The stranger had angled his body toward you as he spoke, leaning into your space. The grin on his face was sultry, inviting. Disgusting. His knees were practically touching yours. He was entirely too close to you, Neteyam determined.
This man, this nobody, dared to then put a hand halfway up your thigh and this ultimately sends Neteyams blood pressure skyrocketing.
Chuckling darkly, completely oblivious to Neteyam standing right behind him, the stranger went on, "I’d love to see those pretty lips wrapped around my—"
"Well, that’s too bad", Neteyam cut him off, causing the man to tense up and whip around, "I don’t appreciate people touching what’s mine."
The fool seems to have grasped the enormity of the error he had made, glancing up at the olo’eyktan’s first born in shock. His eyes are wide and instantly, he's babbling apologies.
In the corner of his eyes, Neteyam sees the way your whole face lightens up and his heart swells with joy at the thought of you being just as excited to see him as he was before.
But he still keeps his eyes fixed on this interloper, scanning him like prey. He’s probably closer around your age than his, no particular distinguishing features, no face he could recall ever seeing before, boyish and rather plain. That guy was either really bold or really, really stupid to even try and talk to you. Didn’t he make it clear enough, in all of his years, all of your years of living, that you were his and his alone?
Regardless, Neteyams face darkens even more as he puts two fingers to the man’s chest and gives him a little push.
"Move", he grits out, "or I’ll make you."
The pathetic sight in front him makes him fight back the urge to just slit this man's throat right here and now. But the stranger had already excused himself and then disappeared into thin air quicker than one would run when being chased by a palulukan, so Neteyam allowed him to leave with his life, blissfully unaware of how lucky he was.
He kept his eyes fixed in the direction the man had walked off to for long enough, that the silence between you both took on a tinge of tension. Finally, when Neteyam was sure that he was really gone and the both of you were finally alone, he glanced back at you.
"I see you've been making friends while I was away, peach", he said with the raise of his brows, both arms crossed over his chest.
You looked up at Neteyam with this giddy, loopy smile, arms itching to reach up and close them around his neck in a tight hug. "I missed you", is all you respond, bouncing on your toes like an overly excited nantang pup and as always, completely oblivious to the situation you’re in.
"Hmh, I missed you too", Neteyam chuckled with a sarcastic roll of his eyes that made you giggle. Barely able to keep his anger upright by the sight of you, he finally wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into a hug, your feet rising to your tip toes to meet his height. "Missed you a lot."
Warmth spreads through both of your bodies, a feeling of comfort and safety, like coming home. But then Neteyams hands squeeze your waist and your arms loosen up so he could step back to properly look at you.
"But don’t try and change the subject now", he sighed, giving your hips another squeeze before he retreated his hands entirely. Straightening his spine, a frown returns to his face, showing you that he was still irritated to have found you in such a position after being away for a whole week.
"H-He was just being nice, teyam", you try to explain, "He just complimented my lips, that’s all… It’s not like he said anything inappropriate."
"Oh he wasn’t?", he scoffed, amused because how would you even know what was inappropriate and what not. "And do you have any idea why he complimented your lips, of all things?"
Your confusion is palpable, almost tangible, as you grapple with the question at hand. It’s adorable, the way you pinch your eyebrows together, searching for an answer, while your lips purse.
"No", you then say with a sigh.
"They’re very pretty, just like the rest of you", Neteyam muses, reaching up to cup your face in both of his palms. His thumbs begin to draw gentle circles on your cheeks and you watch the way his eyes admire your lips, his tongue licking over his own before he continues, "But sometimes… sometimes men look at girls with pretty lips and imagine them elsewhere."
Neteyam can’t hide the way his tail lashes around in excitement behind his back as your eyes widened at his words.
"Like where?", you ask quietly.
"Wrapped around their cocks, for example", he told you softly, biting back a mischievous grin.
"Oh."
"Hmh", he hums with a soft laugh but his tone turns serious quickly. It’s hard not to let the jealousy speak out of him, when the sight of the man’s hands on you was still so clear in front of his minds eye. "Makes me wonder what he would’ve done if I hadn’t interrupted. Would you have done that to him?"
"No!", you shake your head with gasp, "No of course not!"
This earns you a tender kiss to your cheek, and another just barely brushing your lips. Neteyam relishes in the way you straighten up, trying to reach him, to make him kiss you again. You’re so close, yet he won’t kiss you properly and you huff out in frustration.
"But… you would do that to me, right?", Neteyam cooks his head to the side, grinning. "You would suck my cock, right peach? Because you love me."
The question seemingly takes you off guard. A delicate pink blush creeps up your cheeks as your mind tries to proceed what’s been said. Kind as he is, Neteyam allows you a moment to think about it. Knowing that would surely help you in making a decision, he inches closer to you and plants another kiss to your lips. It’s not as tender this time and he has to hold himself back in order to not just take a bite out of you.
He had really missed you. Spending a whole week without you was like torture to him, and now that he finally held you again, his mind was racing with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. Things, he wanted you to do to him.
"C‘mon", he murmurs into your ear softly, his was voice low and almost seductive as he continues, "I’ve had my lips on your pretty little pussy so many times by now. I know you. And I know you’re curious. You want to, right?"
"O-Okay, yes", you whisper breathily and a wave of goosebumps prickle over his skin, as if he could feel the honesty in your words, "yes, I’m- I want to!"
You absently thought that your heart might beat out of your chest as you let Neteyam help you down to your knees at his feet.
Your breathing was unsteady, heat spreading from your collar down into your core as you looked up at him. For the moment he was silent, looking down at you with heat in his beautiful yellow eyes, lids at half-mast. His mouth was turned up into that smug, satisfied smirk as he threaded idle fingers through the hair at the side of your head. He didn’t tug or otherwise physically direct you to where he wanted.
Neteyam just watched you knowingly, tracing from your ear to the corner of your mouth with his left hand, thumb brushing your lips.
"Undress me", he then said, feeling a shiver run up his spine as he glanced deep into your eyes. There was still a spark of innocence in them, like a little star in the sky, reserved just for him to take and claim. To steal from the sky and keep it all to himself.
With trembling fingers and unsteady breath, you moved your hands around to untie his loincloth, a little clumsy as you tried once, twice, three times to get the knot to open. You heard him laugh a little as you finally succeeded on the third try, which choked off into a groan as you eagerly got a hand around his cock to tug him out.
"Easy, easy", Neteyam chuckled, "You really missed me, huh? So eager today."
You‘re all wide eyes as you kneel between his legs, with your cheeks flushed red. He could tell you were a little nervous by the way you bit your bottom lip, eyes flicking from his eyes down to his chest, settling on his cock that was just a few inches away from your face now.
"What… what should I do?", you ask curiously, licking your lips as you eye his cock. Neteyam wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but you scooted a little closer just then, your knees dragging over the soft mossy ground underneath them.
"Give me your hand", he said softly, waiting for you to place your hand in his before he guided them to his cock, closing your hand around his shaft. "Start like this, just how we do it sometimes."
Nodding, your mouth already begins to water as you give him an appreciative stroke, squeezing just as tight as you knew he enjoyed. You’ve done this before, you thought to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He taught you how. You knew what he enjoyed.
"Keep your hands here", Neteyam continued to explain, guiding your hands down lower to the base of his cock, "You won’t get it fully in so use them for the part your mouth can’t reach."
"How do you know I can’t?" You all but whispered, glancing up at him with furrowed brows, genuinely curious to how he knew that. Neteyam however laughed a little at your facial expression, like you were offended and thought he would question your abilities.
"Oh my sweet peach, you’re adorable", he said, his free hand brushing through your hair and cradling the back of your head affectionately, "You won’t, trust me."
There’s a cute pout forming on your lips and Neteyam couldn’t help but inch closer to you, his hand still overlapping yours as you stroked his cock and then he gently ran the tip over your bottom lip. The mushroom-like head felt soft against your lips, the slit already leaking a small bead of pre-cum that now glossed your lips.
With a sharp grin, he then said, "Now, start with a kiss. Let me feel those pretty lips properly."
So you did. You kiss his tip softly, lips nestling against his shape just perfect– like you were made for this, and Neteyam huffed out a breath, nerves tingling like a live wire. Stay calm, he had to tell himself in order to not just hold your face still and fuck your throat raw. The impatience was killing him, he was so hard by now that he felt his own heartbeat throb between his thighs, yet he had to take it slow, advise you first. He didn’t want to be too selfish. He wanted this to be good for you too– had to, if he wanted you to do it again.
"That’s it, good girl", Neteyam whispered, watching with half lidded eyes as you kissed along his shaft. You were so concentrated on your task, it almost hurt him to move forward. He wanted you to shower his cock in sweet little kisses for hours on end, if it weren’t for the painful case of blue balls this treatment bought with it. "You‘ll have to wet it next, use your tongue."
You’re eager from the start. You part your lips, tongue sticking out to lick broad strokes along the length of Neteyams cock and instantly, a shudder runs through him. Your tongue is warm and wet and he loves the way your saliva coats his length after just a couple of kitten licks.
"You can put it in now, peach. Try and put as much of me inside your mouth as you can."
The second the warmth of your mouth envelopes his tip, followed by a couple of inches of his shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath.
"G-Good, so good", he breaths out, voice coming a little shaky, "Now suck on it. Gently."
There’s no hesitation and what you lacked in skill, you made up for in enthusiasm. Your mouth moves slowly over Neteyams cock and if it’s a little sloppy, that just seems to make it better. Your teeth graze against his cock a few times, but it doesn’t matter. It’s you doing it, and that’s easily the best part of all. And you’re trying so hard for him, it makes his heart swell inside his chest.
Neteyam has to lean back against the tree behind him, the bark scratching his skin a little but he’s entirely too focused on keeping his hips still and not jerking up into your inexperienced mouth. It feels so good, but it looks ever better. Your lips, soft and swollen red, are stretching wide around his cock, spit catching on your chin. But then your eyes flutter close as he sinks deeper into your mouth.
"No, no don’t close your eyes", Neteyam chuckles, "Look at me, peach. I want to see your pretty face."
Blinking away tears, you pry your watery eyes open and look up it him through your long lashes.
"There you are", he smiles fondly at you, laughing a little at the excited sway of your tail. His hand comes up to your head again, brushing through your hair to keep them together and out of the way in a makeshift ponytail. "Eywa, you’re so beautiful. I love you so much."
Your cheeks light up in a pretty pink at his praise and he watches how you continue just as eagerly. There’s already so much spit pooling in your mouth, spilling over your chin and dripping down your throat, but it makes it easier for you to suck and slurp around him.
"That’s it, peach. Just like that. Don’t forget to use your tongue."
The feeling of knowing you would do anything he says, follow every one of his orders is simply indescribable to him. Your tongue swirls around his tip when you pull back and stays glued to the underside of his cock when you move down. All the while, your hands stroke his base, your wrist curls and twists in the same motion he had taught you a while ago and it feels incredible.
Neteyams hips begin to stutter and then the very first tears spill over the soft of your cheeks as he feels your throat constrict around him. He tries to collect himself with steady breaths and not wanting to finish too soon, he gently pulls you off of him, giving you a moment to breathe too.
"Is it… am I doing okay?" You asks with a small voice, almost worried that he made you stop because you did something wrong.
"It’s perfect, peach. You are perfect."
"Really?" You asks excitedly, clearly surprised.
"Yes", he chuckles, stroking your hair tenderly, "Can you keep going or do you need a break? I‘m so close."
Like the perfect girl that he partly raised you to become, you quickly shake your head. Neteyam forces himself to keep his eyes open, watching as your enthusiastic tongue flicks over the head of his cock and then you take him back into your mouth. Your hand continues to move in a tight grip around his base and even though the rhythm is off, he couldn’t care less. You’re so eager, so willing to try new things with him, and that’s what pushes him closer to the edge.
You move your mouth down as far as you can, which really isn’t that far at all, and then you suck harder, dragging your lips and tongue slowly up the length of his cock, your hand following behind.
"F-Fuck, yes, that feels really good. You’re such a clever girl, learning so fast. I‘m so proud of you, making me feel s-so good", he groans, finally allowing his hips to move, fucking up into your hand and mouth. "Keep going, don’t stop. I‘m close, so close."
You seemed to preen at the praise, eagerly swallowing more of his cock and sucking him harder.
Neteyams knees buckle when you suddenly give a moan so dirty, he has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from coming. He didn’t even know what you were moaning for. Maybe it just felt good for you too, maybe you were enjoying yourself simply because he was enjoying yourself, because his pleasure was ultimately connected yours. Whatever it was, but the vibration of your little moans around his cock made his toes curl into the moist soil underneath his feet. It just felt so good. But he didn’t want to tip over the edge just yet, he wanted to relish in that feeling for as long as he possibly could.
He loved this feeling, it was one of the best ones he’s ever had, washing away all jealousy from earlier like a wave crashing into the shore. The thrill of doing this in such a public place, barely hidden from other clan members, mixed with the euphoria of having you finally suck his cock, something he’s been fantasizing about for years– It was a high he wouldn’t forget so soon. Deep down in his chest, Neteyam wished that the guy from earlier was still around, hiding somewhere and watching you do this to him, seeing what he could never have.
Fuck, he made a mental note to get you flowers or make you a pretty bracelet or something, because your mouth was absolute heaven. He really was close, his whole body was tingling and he could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine. There was no way he could edge himself any longer.
"I‘m about to cum, peach", Neteyam managed to force out between heavy pants. You blinked up at him several times, as if to tell him to go ahead. "I want you to swallow. Can you do that for me? You’re gonna swallow my cum, yes?"
The way your throat instantly constricted around him elicited a small chuckle from him. He couldn't believe how eager to please his innocent little peach was, how it was really you, doing this to him. But by eywa did it feel good when you swallowed around him again, taking him just an inch deeper, and when he first heard your helpless little gag as his tip went too deep– he was done for.
With both hands fisting tight in your hair, he pulled you close and held your head right there, groaning deep with his eyes squeezing shut and his hips stuttering, he released thick spurts of cum onto your waiting tongue.
"T-There you go, fuuuck, fuck", Neteyam grunted, "good girl, swallow it all."
He could feel the way your tongue stayed glued to his cock, how you swallowed and swallowed, his warm cum running down your throat until you had to shove him off to be able to breathe again. Neteyam didn’t resist when you gently pushed him off, gasping for air as soon as his cock unblocked your airways.
He didn’t even wait for his own breathing to steady, to come down from his high before he crouched down to be eye level with you. His hand gently cups your chin, guiding you to look at him.
Your cheeks are strained with tears and blushed red, the cute tip of your nose more pinkish than usual and your lips are swollen and slicked with spit.
"Did– Did you like it, Teyam?", you ask carefully, your voice coming out a little hoarse, while Neteyam‘s thumb wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. Hearing your straining voice definitely made something stir inside of him. Something, that didn’t help getting his boner down even right after his climax.
"Did I like it?", Neteyam scoffed, watching the way your ears fold back in worry. With a mischievous grin he then gently pushes you backwards by your shoulders, until you lay flat on your back. A small yelp escapes your parted lips at the sudden change of position, your eyes looking up at him questioningly. But Neteyam’s hands expertly find the backside of your loincloth, pulling the strings open and sliding it down your thighs and over your legs before you can even ask him what he has was doing.
His eyes travel down on your body, slowly taking in every inch of you that he has missed so much. You watch how he licks his lips like a starved man staring at a five course meal when his eyes land on where he spreads your thighs and it sends your heart racing in anticipation.
"Let me show you just how much I liked it, peach."
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
toms-cherry-trees · 6 months
Text
"Lessons" || Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: When your husband's attempts at tutoring you fail, he is forced to seek less orthodox ways
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Innuendo, teasing, edging and denial, thigh riding, overstimulation, ass slapping, titty slapping, titty succin, fingering, p in v sex, degradation, breeding kink if you squint, bad teaching techniques
Author’s note: No excuses here. Credits to Sarah @aemondsbabe for the HORN and massive thanks to Miranda @solisarium for the beta read! Requested tag: @marthawrites
Header by the beautiful lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Your desperate whimpers and heavy gasps disrupt the silence of the chamber, mixed with the crackling of the logs in the hearth and the rhythmic drumming of your husband’s fingers against the armrest of his seat. He looks so smug and relaxed, leaning back on the chair, his feet well planted on the floor; a heavy, leather bound tome rests on the table beside him, open in the same page it has been for over a fortnight now.
His index taps three times on the book, pointing at a fairly simple written word, but in your brain it reads like the most complex of riddles. Endless hours your husband has devoted to educate you in the beauty and magic of the Valyrian tongue. There would be no greater pride for him than to have his perfect little wife speak the words of his forefathers, to hear the ancient language roll effortlessly out of her beautiful mouth and whisper before others words only for her to comprehend. Yet you quickly proved to be as thick as you are beautiful, and no effort nor technique could get you past the most basics of vocables. This forced him to seek new methods of instruction, which he implemented with utmost enthusiasm and methodic dedication.
You currently are the perfect image of depravity. Your smallclothes lay in a careless heap at his feet, hair free of the intricate style and flowing freely, flyaway strands sticking to your damp forehead and temple. Your robe hangs loosely from your shoulders, giving you a weak resemblance of modesty. The skirt of the nightgown is rucked above your hips, allowing Aemond a prime view as you drag your soaked folds along his clothed thigh, desperately seeking a climax he knows all too well you cannot achieve like that. He knows your thighs tire too soon, he knows you can’t ever get the angle right. But this is the only touch you are allowed until you learn your lessons.
His questions don’t make it to your ears, unable to hear anything above your own broken moans. The first days you tried to comply and learn, to give in your best to please him in that way. But your best efforts melted into naught when he teased you night after night, trailing touches along your skin that ignited fire in your lower belly, only to cruelly deny you while he sought his release in the warmth of your mouth instead of where you needed him the most. 
The motion of your hips stutters as your thighs begin to burn from exertion. Your fingers dig on the flesh of his arms for support, legs shifting just enough to seek a new angle, to find the right pressure you need. But you cannot fool yourself; you need his help.
“Please. Husband, I need you.” Your words are pleading, desire and desperation lacing your tone; your eyes wide and innocent, batting your eyelashes. But your helplessness only amuses Aemond, the corner of his mouth raised on a half smirk. Warm and calloused hands slip the robe off your shoulders and the nightgown away from your frame, leaving you bare before his heated gaze.
“Say it like I taught you, ābrazȳrītsos, and I may consider giving you a little reward.” His thumb brushes across the peaks of your breasts, nipples stiffening immediately at the gentle stimulation. Your nerves are frayed and every gesture pushes you closer to the edge. He rolls the hardened buds between index and thumb, drawing another mewl from your sweet lips, back arching to offer more of your bosom to his touch. Your core throbs in sync with your heart, arousal coating your inner thighs and having left a damp patch in the fabric of his breeches. You rack your brain to find the words he wishes to hear, but it seems your head has been emptied of all thought and logic, leaving only raw and primal desire, an almost animalistic instinct to sate your hunger.
Aemond is quick to pick up the almost dazed look in your eyes, chuckling in delight at your inability to form a coherent thought, all because of him. He brushes his thumb alongside the plushness of your bottom lip, pushing inside your mouth just enough for you to wrap your lips around it and suck dutifully, swirling your tongue around like you had his manhood in you.
“My pretty little wife, so needy for her husband's cock she can't even answer one simple question. Humping and sucking like a wanton whore.”
You whimper around his digit, his words fanning the fire between your legs into a raging inferno. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, slowly sliding it down your body, leaving behind a shining trail of your saliva. His hand halts just above your mound, darkened eye watching in satisfaction the slight and involuntary buck of your hips, seeking his touch anywhere you can get it. A light swat to your thigh makes you yelp, but the sting is easily forgotten as Aemond’s lips trace the line of your collarbone, settling on the juncture between shoulder and neck and gently sucking at the skin.
With unsurprising ease, Aemond shifts your body until your knees rest on both sides of his legs, your drenched cunt hovering above the tight bulge straining his breeches, almost feeling the heat radiating from it. You swallow thickly, whining loudly as he undoes the lacings and frees his thick cock from the confines of the garments. Fingers wrapped around his girth, he teases the head through your slick folds a few times. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, entire body tense and trembling with the effort to not grind against him. You know better than to test your luck when he is being so generous. 
“Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos, so wanton and needy for aōhe valzȳrys. Can’t get that beautiful head of yours to work until I fix that problem between your delicious thighs.”
His free hand sneaks between your legs, tracing agonisingly slow circles around your throbbing pearl, making you shudder. You see how much your easily triggered reactions entertain him, the fair lilac of his eye darkened to a purple hue. You are desperate for him, but he is equally delirious for you, that much you can tell when he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste your arousal, his cock twitching in response. You can only hope his need is enough to give in to you.
Two fingers shallowly breach your entrance up to the first knuckle, his thumb pressing down firmly on your pearl while he gauges your reaction. Your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back, nails digging in your palms, lips parting to elicit a breathy moan. Another question comes to you, but the words never register, and incoherent babbling is all you can gather as a reply. The sharp smack delivered against the supple flesh of your arse snaps you back to your senses, feeling the light sting spread across your skin.
“Eyes on me, kēlītsos. Until I get what I want from those pretty lips of yours, you do as I say. You don’t get to escape me.”
He pelts you with question after question you cannot answer, each failure punished with sharp slaps on your ass, breasts and thighs; some gentle like a caress, others strong enough to make you hiss through your teeth. In between smacks he continues the sweet torture, his touch on you so tender and featherlight it feels like it is just in your imagination. Every time he senses you getting too worked up, he pinches your clit tightly, pulling sharp cries from you intertwined with pleas for mercy.
“Please, husband, please. I can’t hold it anymore. Please,,” You sob, your fingers digging into his shoulders to emphasise your words, and you make a tentative roll of your hips against his hand, hoping he will take pity on your pathetic current state.
He clicks his tongue, the back of his hand dabbing at some tears you hadn’t noticed pooling at the corners of your eyes. Large hands cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones; you lean into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering close as you take slow breaths to try and regain some control over yourself.
“Dumb little lady you are. So beautiful and so silly. Your head is filled with nothing but flowers and filth.” The slight degradation should sting and wound your pride, but all it does is send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your cunt. “Can’t write Valyrian, can’t read it, not even say the simplest of words without getting all tongue tied. All you are good for is to take Valyrian seed deep in your womb and help spread my bloodline. You would like that, ilībītsos, having my seed take root inside you and grow round and heavy with my children, your breasts full of milk for my heirs. All you know how to do, no?”
You can’t help it, you nod eagerly at his words, hoping this means he will finally relent and allow you release. And it seems all your prayers will be answered when you feel him line the tip of his cock with your awaiting entrance, meeting no resistance as he sinks into you, stopping halfway and delivering yet another smack upon your arse to spur you on like a stubborn mare.
“Ride me.”
You swallow at the command. Your legs are aching still and your energies are weaning, but the promise of putting an end to this most delicious misery is enough to fuel you. You do nothing to stifle your moans as you rock your hips, feeling in you will not last. The hot coil tightens in your belly at a dizzying speed, so taut you feel ready to snap. Wet sounds fill the chamber and your walls flutter around him, breaths coming in short pants. It is so close you can taste it, the one thing you have been so cruelly denied and so ravenously crave. His hand caresses the length of your spine, from the curve of your ass up to between your shoulders. He cradles the back of your neck and pushes your head forward so your forehead rests on his shoulder and his lips are against your ear.
“Stop.”
Aemond’s voice cuts through you like a sword, eyes shooting open and a broken sob coming from your lips. Every nerve urges you to ignore his command and chase your climax, but you don’t. You do as you’re told, letting your body rest in his lap. He questions you again, but you don’t even try to find an answer. You only shake your head, tears beading in your eyelashes while you press tender kisses on the skin of his collarbone. He waits until he feels your body relax, your grip on him loosening.
“Continue.” 
Again you try your best, ignoring the cramps of your muscles and the dull pain of your knees against the chair. And once more, Aemond commands you to stop every time he feels you clenching around him. Each time it is harder to stop, but you do it nevertheless. Not once he tries to restrain you himself, because he knows his good girl does as she is told. Even as the tears run freely down your cheeks and pitiful sobs are the only sound you are capable of. 
“Please.” The quiet, barely audible plea is muffled against his neck, your face burrowed there as exhaustion threatens to overcome you. Your body feels tense like a bowstring, waiting for the smallest of gestures to let go. Your cunt throbs around him, his length and your thighs coated in warm slick. You remain denied yet your pearl is so overworked it feels almost painful to the touch. All ruined for him, without having been allowed a single peak.
“Daor.” He purrs against your neck, nibbling at the skin as he takes hold of your hips, thrusting into you tantalisingly slowly, burying himself to the hilt in your warm heat and withdrawing until only the head remains, making you feel every inch of him. He steadily picks up the pace, alternating between long strokes and shallow thrust, fast and then slow again. He roams your body, kneading your thighs and squeezing your ass, fingertips tracing the dip of your waist and the curve of the hips. His lips capture a nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sucking with gentle pressure, lapping at the pebbled nub.
You are absolutely overwhelmed, losing control of your bearings as the pleasure comes and goes in powerful waves, barely letting you catch breath before threatening to drown you again, never taking you to one extreme or the other. For moments you want it to stop, but you are sure to die if it does. You no longer remember what brought you to this moment. But amidst the fog clouding your mind you manage to scramble out a single word.
“Kostilus.”
His movements come to a halt, and you can practically feel the wicked smirk against the flesh of your breast. He takes his time to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses round your breast and up your chest, trailing the line of your collarbone to your neck, finally settling on your ear. Aemond gives the earlobe a quick nip, while one hand slowly snakes between your conjoined bodies to circle your pearl once more.
“Sȳz riña.”
Your body slackens against him as he picks up speed, already teetering on the edge. It takes no more than a couple powerful thrusts for you to peak, sinking your teeth into his flesh as you scream your release into him, whole body spasming as the waves of blinding pleasure wash over you, filling your veins with a fuzzy feeling you cannot explain, but is as if your soul has elevated to the heavens and left your body behind. It seems you black out for a moment, for when you regain your surroundings once more Aemond has you cradled against his chest, your robe thrown over you to keep you warm. He caresses your back, the soothing motion lulling you back to sleep. Through the grogginess you hear him whisper in your ear
“This is but the first lesson.”
~
ābrazȳrītsos - little wife
Ñuhus litses ābrazȳrītsos - my pretty little wife
aōhe valzȳrys - your husband
kēlītsos - little kitten
ilibitsos - little slut
daor - no
kostilus - please
Syz riña - good girl
752 notes · View notes
bluejayblueskies · 4 months
Text
ten thousand flowers in spring | bluejayblueskies
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Three photos of a hand-bound book from different angles that show the front, side, and back respectively. The book has dark green bookcloth, a decorative red and gold ribbon along the front cover and a black ribbon along the back cover, and a gold painted cherry blossom design on the front and back covers. The title and author name are also in gold on the front cover and spine and read, "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and "bluejayblueskies." /End ID]
Last November, I got a Silhouette cutting machine for Black Friday. This weekend, I finally got the chance to use it for a bookbinding project! I bound my fic ten thousand flowers in spring as part of one of my Fandom Trumps Hate typesetting gifts, and I had a lot of fun going all-out with the flower iconography.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two photos of the interior of the book. The first is the title page spread of the book, showing a pastel-colored painting of a cherry blossom-scattered hill with sheep and a shepherd that spans both pages. On the right page, there is the title "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and the author name "bluejayblueskies" in a sans serif font. The second is the colophon (left) and table of contents (right) of the book. The colophon has details about the binder, the original fic, and the fonts and image sources used in the book. The table of contents has each chapter title and corresponding page number listed in a grid format with flower icons above each chapter title. /End ID]
Each chapter is titled after a flower that has a specific meaning that ties into the chapter content. I decided to style this bind after old botany books. Along with the cover, which is inspired by the covers of old botany books, each chapter header has an image of the titular flower pulled from public domain botany book scans, along with the flower's name and meaning below it.
Tumblr media
[ID: The inside of the book, showing a page of text on the left and the chapter header on the right. The chapter header has an old-style image of blue salvia on it, with the name "blue salvia" and the meaning "friendship, family, thoughtful gestures, thinking of you" beneath it. /End ID]
Each chapter also begins with a faux-excerpt from the book Jon is writing throughout the fic:
Tumblr media
[ID: The inside of the book, showing the introductory faux book excerpt on the left and the beginning chapter text on the right. The faux book text has an image of a flower beneath it; the beginning chapter text has a drop cap with a floral design at the beginning of it. /End ID]
Some more notes and pictures on process are below the cut!
The binding style of this fic is sewn boards binding, which I like for thinner books as the spine is much less fiddly to work with. It's also a really nice binding style in general because it eliminates my least-favorite part of the binding process: casing in. When casing in a regular case-bound book, you construct the entire case separately from the text block and then attach the case to the text block via the endpapers. Inevitably, I always end up just a little bit crooked, and because my brain currently refuses to let me try using paste instead of PVA, it's very hard to fix once the endpapers are pasted down.
With sewn boards binding, the boards are attached to the text block via an extra signature of folded cardstock on the ends of the text block. The case is then constructed directly onto the text block, and glueing the endpapers down is very, very easy and near-impossible to mess up.
The ends of the boards do end up exposed with this binding style. The first time I did it, I covered them with paper. This time, I painted them gold to match the cover:
Tumblr media
[ID: A side view of the book, showing off the exposed boards near the spine which are painted gold. The front cover of the book can also be seen at an angle. /End ID]
I plan to experiment more in the future with potentially adding endbands to this binding style, as that's one thing I wish this book had that it does not.
For the cover design, I first cut out the stencils using my Silhouette:
Tumblr media
[ID: A cutting mat with white vinyl stuck to it that has been cut and weeded to expose the backlit cherry blossom design. The title "Ten Thousand Flowers in Spring" and author name "bluejayblueskies" can be seen in the designs for the front cover and spine. /End ID]
I'd heard a lot of things about weeding, positive and negative, but I actually enjoyed doing the weeding on this 😂 it was like doing a puzzle in a way. I think I would like it less if I had to keep all of the tiny little pieces and make sure they looked nice, but as it was, all I had to do was remove them and it didn't matter if they got bent in the process.
The fabric paint I have dries very quickly, so I got very little bleed on my stencil and was able to remove it almost right away:
Tumblr media
[ID: The back cover of the book with the vinyl stencil stuck to it, painted over somewhat messily with gold fabric paint. /End ID]
Overall, I was very happy with the stenciling process and will probably continue to do stencils as opposed to heat transfer vinyl unless I want to do some bigger, blockier designs in the future.
331 notes · View notes
jinnie-ret · 3 months
Text
anti-hero
Tumblr media
poly bang chan x hero!lee felix x villain!reader | superhero au
genre: superhero au, fluff, angst
content warnings: implied past bullying, implied anxiety, it's fluffy as well though I promise
word count: 3.6k
summary: their paths were destined to meet one way or another. it just so happens it all goes down in a way chan least expected.
header by @writingforstraykids thanks for making this my love!!
for @miuracha I hope you enjoy my lovely :)
this was part of the make miu smile event which you can find here
MAIN MASTERLIST
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The villain of the city, it was fun for you until it wasn't. You yearned to wreak havoc upon those who always judged you, made you feel like a monster, to those who managed to pierce your heart with their disgusting words that had been thrown at you with such ease. That, was your origin story. Maybe in another life you'd be living in a small cottage outside the busy day to day life of a place which was filled with cars, buildings, noise, and more cars. You wouldn't have to fret over public appearances, despite your masked form, the 'Shadow' that haunted Seoul. You wouldn't have to pretend anymore to fight against your lover, the hero who had made everyone feel safe again, feel safe just because you purely existed.
Lee Felix. A ball of sunshine. No, literally, he could blind any foes with his bright, burning orbs, torching their skin, destroying their vision, with indefinite permanence. The 'Blaze' that could never be outshined by anybody.
Oddly enough, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that the two of you were bound to meet, bound to fight, bound to be fated together.
┊ ➶ 。˚   °
News reporters from several different channels were immediately sent out in their vans once they caught word of another fight between Shadow and Blaze happening in the center of the city. And soon enough they were met with quite a rewarding sight for their careers.
Shadow was sprinting as fast as possible, slipping into dark alleyways and cursing Blaze in her mind when he managed to invade her spots and shine light from his scarred hands in order to 'catch' her.
Not long ago, she had trapped some men in a bubble of darkness before she sweeped the streets and did the same to a woman around her age. Of course, citizens of Seoul were terrified, hoping not to face that same choking, suffering and horrifying feeling of being unable to move and left to hear all of their own thoughts. Her darkness was one that nobody would want to experience.
Enter Blaze, here to save the day. Per usual, he threw on his big smile and reassured scared crowds of people that they were safe when he was there, a slight sadness in his voice that went undetected.
There to capture the chase across the city, were helicopters filming from above, the whirring of the vehicles making Shadow smirk from beneath her black veil. What an amazing show they were creating. She skidded round the corner, her shoes leaving tracks of obsidian. Small pieces of tarmac flew up, scraping the backs of her legs. Blaze was only a few feet behind her. He was running at the speed of light, perks of the job. Keeping up the act, Blaze had freed the trembling victims of Shadow's wrath, and directed emergency services towards them. They'd be fine, in all due course.
Shadow panted as she came to a hault, finding herself in a dead end of the road, construction equipment and barriers up, stopping her in her path.
"End this now, Shadow," Blaze righteously spoke, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him.
"End what? It's such a lovely day, is it not, my dear ray of sunshine?" Shadow cackled, dark storm clouds threatening to cloak the city in its grey, velvety blanket of gloom.
"You've caused enough chaos around here!" Blaze boomed in his deep voice, cutting through the clouds and letting spires from the sun creep through and soothe the dull of the city.
"Not quite," Shadow smirked, before moving her hands round in circular motions.
She summoned decaying vines, uprooting the concrete nature of man made civilisation, and introducing it to the lives that inhabited it. There were screams of terror as people got wrapped tightly, like they were being swallowed up by the grip of a cobra's coil. Fallen. Shaking.
"Not this again, she said she wouldn't do this anymore," Blaze sighed, before boosting his form up from the ground and propelling small flames towards the vines, breaking them apart and releasing more and more people from their encaged nightmares.
"Oldest trick in the book, sweetie," Shadow grinned widely, a black tongue sticking out past her lips as she teased the villain once more.
Oh how he wished she wouldn't tease him so much, but she knew he could handle it, he supposed, and he knew she'd be able to handle the actions he was about to take.
"Shadow!" Felix projected his voice once more, "you have terrorised this city one too many times!"
And with that, he blasted her a few streets away, making sure she had wrapped herself up in her elusive, shimmering cloak before he did so.
Screams of joys and cheers erupted around the city, people gathering around Blaze and praising him before he saluted them and vanished before their very eyes. He found where Shadow was immediately, hidden around an abandoned street where they knew nobody would see them. Or so it seemed.
"Y/Nnie, you ok love?" Felix approached the dark spot quickly, a grin appearing on his face when he saw the exhausted smile of his lover.
"That was quite the show," Y/N applauded her boyfriend before they embraced for a moment, her cloak slightly slipping off of her shoulders.
"You're telling me that? You trapped more people than normal in those dark bubbles, making me work harder you are," Felix chuckled and poked her cheek.
"Gotta switch it up?" Y/N shrugged, relishing the physical contact she had with Felix, appreciating his presence. It soothed something inside of her, made her calm.
"Who was it this time?" Felix prompted, wanting to know why she had trapped those certain people. Y/N always had a reason for these things, despite what the public view was. No one would believe that the villain thought carefully about who she targeted, why would they? They saw her as a reckless heathen who didn't belong anywhere.
"Well first, there was this group of perverted guys creeping on some teenage girls," Y/N began, her fingers stroking delicately over Felix's hands. He watched her explain with full attention.
"Mm, fair, ok, and what about that girl, she was like the same age as you, I swear," Felix wondered.
"Oh, her, ugh," Y/N rolled her eyes.
"You know her, love?" Felix tilted her chin up so she'd look up at him.
"Stacey Arnold, locked me in the cleaning cupboard at high school..." Y/N trailed off with a sigh. Black smoke lifted from her her hands covered in the same colour as she reflected on those torturous years.
"And...?" Felix rose an eyebrow, subtly switching the grips of their hands so that he could eradicate the air of her stygian darkness.
"Why does there have to be an and?" Y/N grumbled, still hesitant sometimes to reveal what had happened in her past. Hesitant to reveal what made her feel like a shameful being, a monster on the hill.
"There always is," Felix sang lowly, pressing his forehead against hers.
"She cut off a chunk of my hair," Y/N grumbled, kicking some stones.
"Oh no I love your hair," Felix pouted, pulling away to touch her hair and admire it.
"I'm starting to think my hair is so dry because of the heat from your hands when you're grabbing it," Y/N joked, teasing Felix about when he'd get all hot and bothered, like now, even when he was blushing.
"Wanna test that theory?" Felix leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers in the beginning of a much needed make out session.
Unbeknownst to them, was a man only slightly older than them, traipsing the streets of Seoul after the huge fight that had happened.
┊ ➶ 。˚   °
Enter, Chan. He had been walking with a blue notepad in hand, pen balancing on his ear which held the weight of his clear lens glasses. Fluffy brown hair sat atop his head, a frown formed on his face as he began to think would a story of his ever get published?
Well, now he had a story alright, the city's superhero Blaze and Villain, Shadow, caught in a steamy situation.
That is, if his boss would ever believe it. He hadn't progressed as far in his career as he would have liked to, always being undermined as an apprentice despite his allegiance to the Seoul Life company for six years. Six years and he was miserable. The newspaper wasn't very popular anyways, the only way they'd catch attention would be with a controversial headline, one that sparked distasteful rumours. Well, at least he had one that would be telling the truth this time. He just hoped and prayed it would get accepted. His other articles hadn't been before.
"No, Chan, no one cares about these supposed musical injustices of artists having no rights over their own music!" his boss slammed down the typed out copy of Chan's story down on his desk in the head office. Deep wrinkles set on the man's forehead.
"People care! I care!" Chan insisted, a look of desperation on his face.
"I'm scrapping it, you need some sort of better story," his boss leant back in his chair, rolling his eyes.
"No, sir! Please don't! I really think it could-"
"Watch this, and learn," his boss's voice pierced through his apprentice's words, as he he promptly fed the shredder beside him with Chan's hard work.
"I'm sorry," Chan looked down, feeling guilty that he once again had not created a successful report for the company. He didn't even know why they kept him around anymore, probably just to collect the coffees and do the printing.
But upon this day, he headed to the top floor of the building and knocked excitedly on his boss's door.
"Yes? What is it?!" his boss called out, seemingly in a good mood until he saw Chan and frowned.
"I got you your coffee. And I've got an amazing story to go with it," Chan was firm with his words, determination and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"This better be good..."
"Another fight just happened with Blaze and Shadow-"
"I know this Chan, that's why I sent out the competent writers of this company to go and report," his boss sighed, sipping his coffee and hissing when it was still too hot on his tongue.
"Well I bet they didn't see the arch enemies of the city making out in a back alley," Chan grinned, raising his eyebrows up.
"Out of all the things I have heard..." his boss pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It's true! Look I managed to grab a photo!" Chan pulled out his phone and showed evidence, causing his boss's eyes to widen.
"Well I never... I tell you what boy, we'll publish this, if you can get this story done in 1 hour we'll send it out straight away! We'll publish it online before the other companies can even think about speculating this sort of story. I think you could have us earning some good money here!" his boss, for the first time ever, smiled in front of him. And that was all the motivation Chan needed, all the motivation he needed to prove himself.
Tumblr media
It had been 2 days since the article had been published. 2 days, since chaos erupted. Online, hateful comments were sent Chan's way, claiming he was some sick fantasist who conjured up some fictional idea that two prominent figures, although one of them very hated, were engaging in such interactions.
He felt like his life was over. And the company did nothing to defend his name, despite the fact that his boss had been so enthusiastic about the idea and what profit and benefits would come from it. Sure, they caught a lot of attention, but not the right kind. So much so, that they publicly fired Chan, and stated that he was no longer working with them.
For the first time since the publication, Chan dared to venture into the city for a bite to eat, a treat to ease his stress. It seemed, it was only more stressful for him than he could have imagined. It wasn't so bad at first, but then people started recognising him and soon enough he was swarmed in a vicious crowd of people hurling insults at him.
"You sicko!"
"This man thought he could make us read a fanfiction?!"
"What a disgrace to our country!"
"Blaze would never do that!"
"Get him!"
He was spiraling, wishing that the ground would swallow him up, or that he could go back to before he made that article and live the dull normal life he lived before. Anything better than all of this attention on him.
"Stop... stop... I'm sorry... I wasn't lying... please..." Chan cried. He begged. He needed saving.
Good thing this city has a hero.
Before he knew it, he was encompassed by a warm soothing light, blaze, you could say. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Then peace and quiet. His heartbeat that was racing slowed down, and all he could hear was the deep rumbling of someone's voice trying to calm him, and the sizzling of food frying in a pan. It smelt delicious. Perhaps this would be the bite to eat he had attempted to get.
"It's ok, hey, you're safe, don't worry, no one will know where you are, I've got you," the deep voice soothed Chan out of his trance, warm hands cradling his face and he opened his eyes to see a handsome, freckled man in front of him.
Holy shit. It was Blaze. It was Blaze that saved him?!
"Take a seat, I know, it's shocking, I'll sign your autograph later, yeah?" Blaze giggled, sitting Chan down on a creaky sofa, and wrapping him in a black blanket.
"Stop being so cocky, Felix!" a female voice called out from behind him, echoing across the room in the direction of where that divine smell was coming from.
"Give me a moment," 'Blaze', or Felix, whispered to Chan, stroking his hair gently before comically marching away. "Hey! It's not my fault people get starstruck around me!"
"Yeah, yeah! Just give the poor man some food, he's shaken up," Shadow laughed.
Wow. Her laugh was much different to when he had heard her before. It was sweet even. Who would have thought...
"Right, umm, sorry, here, eat up!" Felix fumbled over his words before handing Chan a steaming plate of ramen.
"Ow!" Chan sucked air through his teeth, wincing at how hot it was.
"Shit! Sorry! I forget how you normies are with hot things," Felix rushed, "here, use the blanket to cover the sides, won't be so hot that way."
And that's what Chan did. He used the dark blanket that had been wrapped around him to cover the bowl from scalding his hands, and took a bite of the ramen, doing a happy little wiggle at the taste.
"Told you my ramen was the best," Shadow smirked, arms folded as she leant against the wall in front of Chan, boasting at her lover.
"Never said it was bad," Felix shook his head, before turning to grab a plate of his own.
This was oddly domestic, Chan thought. No one would ever really think about the hero and the villain of the city cooking together, or having this playful, teasing bickering. It was sweet, endearing, and he longed to have that.
"Hey is that my cloak?!" Shadow put her hands on her hips, glaring at Chan and therefore sending shivers down his spine.
"Felix... Ummm, B-blaze gave it to me... I think... I'm not sure... It was all a blur to be honest... I-"
"Y/N, leave him alone. The poor guy was just calming down and now you've gone and freaked him out," Felix tutted, making Y/N realise her mistake and she dropped her intimidating look.
"Sorry... Hmm, well, I guess I'll let you get away with it, you're pretty cute," Y/N shrugged it off, making Felix smirk at her knowingly.
"Uhh, thanks? Umm thank you for the food! It's really nice! And, umm, thank you for, umm, saving me," Chan rushed out his words, making sure his appreciation was hung in the air for the couple in front of him to see.
"That's ok, Mr Journalist," Felix grinned back, taking a bite of his own lunch.
"Ah so this is the one who tried to expose us, hmm?" Y/N's face lit up in recognition.
"Ah yeah, that's me. I'm sorry, I just wanted to get a good story out," Chan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before pushing his glasses up.
"It's fine, and to be fair, I can't even get mad at you, at least you were truthful," Y/N nodded in understanding.
She really had a much warmer heart than Chan could have ever anticipated. She was being so kind to him, so was Felix. He didn't expect it, and so, he put that down to the reason why tears welled up in his gorgeous brown eyes.
"Hey, it's ok, really, don't get upset," Felix put down his food to stroke Chan's back.
"It's just... things will never be normal again, everyone hates me," Chan sniffled.
At that moment, Felix glanced at Y/N to help out.
"Oh sure, I'll help, I can relate," Y/N nodded, hyping herself up to comfort Chan as she sat on his other side and took his hand in hers.
"I-i don't know what to do," Chan's voice cracked
"You can stay with us. No-one will be able to seek you out, ok? And soon you'll be able to return to normal everyday living, people will forget about it, I'm sure. You've got us now, ok?" Y/N spoke softly, hushing Chan's cries.
"Really? I-i can stay here?" he was astonished at the idea but he had no other choice. Plus, they had been so welcoming so far.
"You can. I mean it. As long as you don't spill food on my cape again," Y/N wrinkled her nose and rubbed away at the mark.
"Oh sorry! Umm, well, please, I'd like that," Chan nodded, and Felix wrapped an arm around him to offer further comfort.
"We've got you," Felix spread warmth around Chan's body, creating this fuzzy, happy feeling.
┊ ➶ 。˚   °
1 year later, and Chan was still living with the couple. But things had changed, quite massively. Not long after he had began living with them he noticed many different things, ever so observant as a past journalist. The lingering hands, the kisses on the head when they thought he had fallen asleep, the invitations to cuddle them in their bed.
When he confronted them about it, after gathering the courage to, both Felix and Y/N were very frank about their feelings, despite the latter being slightly embarrassed that she had been caught out in her tender actions. After all, Y/N had quite the reputation to be cold and unloving, but Chan knew that very day be met her, that she was the complete opposite. And to him, Felix was different from his heroic persona too. Sure, he had his arrogant moments, but it was only ever said in a joking tone, and that warmth that he had seen in news broadcast footage, translated emotionally too. They were his support. His lifeline. And he'd be ever so thankful that he found them. They even helped him find his new hobby, one he was excited to make money about.
"We're back!" Felix and Y/N called out as they entered the apartment, both of them panting. From staging another fight scene, not anything else, you pervs.
"In here!" Chan yelled out happily, sat in front of his computer.
"Hard at work I see," Y/N kissed him on the forehead, resting her own head on his shoulder to snoop at what he had been working on this time.
"Wow, you've written quite the story there, love," Felix stroked Chan's hair as he squinted his eyes to see what was on the screen.
"Yeah, well, someone paid me ₩200,000 for a commission! Insane I know!" Chan breathed out a laugh, happy that his new job could bring money into their home together.
"What's it about this time?" Felix queried with genuine curiosity.
"Well, ok, so they wanted me to write an imagine where Blaze and Shadow were best friends at school but got separated after moving different countries. So it's got this friends to lovers, reunited trope going on," Chan danced in his seat happily as he explained to his boyfriend and girlfriend about what he was writing.
"You and your fanfiction, ey?" Y/N laughed fondly, rubbing Chan's arms.
"Well, if you can't beat them join them," Chan laughed back, "plus it's fun writing these made up scenarios, especially when people want to insert themselves into the story. I know I've got the real thing. I'm so lucky," he rambled on.
"Yeah, and soppy," Y/N pulled his chair away from the computer.
"Hey! I like the compliments, tell me more!" Felix sat on Chan's lap, dragging Y/N on top of him awkwardly as they shared giggles, stories and kisses about how their days had gone.
It certainly wasn't how Chan expected his life to go. But he wouldn't exchange it for anything now that he got a taste of love, and pure compassion.
Felix was the light that shone down upon him and saved him that very day. And Y/N was the shadow that was always there for him, no matter what. It made sense didn't it? After all, such darkness and lightness coexisting meant that there had to be a third in between the two, otherwise one would feel lonely without the other.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @lixie-phoria
263 notes · View notes
seelestia · 1 year
Text
— 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄?
SUMMARY. zhongli never lies; he always says the truth as it is, even if it is a hard pill to swallow. or in which you realize you are not his greatest love and that is alright... right? (3.3k+ words)
CHARACTERS. zhongli.
GENRE. major angst, hurt with little to no comfort (sort of?).
CW. insecurities to a partner's past love and gradual acceptance (?), zhongli's past love is implied to be guizhong and uses she/her pronouns, use of pet names, possible sappiness. + read the alt text on zhongli's header for an extra summary!
THOUGHTS. i haven't written angst in a vv long time, so my sincerest apologies if i've become rusty! but i tried my best and writing zhongli always gets me sniffling <//3
EXTRA THOUGHTS. a gift for @medeaheartly! so, do you remember the "special privilege" request you sent me in this ask?? hehe, tadaaaa. happy birthday, jae! <3
✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE VERY FIRST TIME you asked him that question was on a day like every other. In fact, there was barely anything special about that day that could've brought rise to such a forward question. Liyue was as calm as the ocean breezes from the direction of Guyun Stone Forest, the same as ever. You were sitting across from the man of your dreams with delicacies laid out on the table at Third-Round Knockout, the same as ever.
But it was no compulsion, no forcefulness either, just a need to reaffirm. For it still felt like a dream that you were here right now, sitting across from him.
"ZHONGLI, do you love me?" You asked.
He was a man of respectable virtue, a man whose knowledge knew no bounds, a man of perfectly sculpted features that you had to rub your eyes in a daze when you met him for the first time. Nothing could begin to describe how honored you felt to have him call you his lover and him yours after all those years of admiring him from afar.
Even now, it still felt surreal. So, so surreal that he chose you, just like how you'd choose him over any other on this land — but, you needed a confirmation, a reassurance that this was all true. And so, that was why you just had to ask.
But love might've been too strong a word for a mutual connection that had only sparked so recently. Maybe he, too, thought the same because Zhongli turned to look at you with an expression that spoke of surprise. For a moment, you felt conscious underneath his questioning gaze.
Goodness, why did you say that? Why did you act so impulsive? It was as if your mouth had a mind of its own and for a moment, you wanted to bury your face in your hands and never look up.
Perhaps, you should just take back that question—
"Let me put my thoughts into words," he hummed in response, the slight shock on his face subtly dissolving into gentleness. By doing so, your thoughts were grounded to a halt as he rested a hand on top of yours. Its warmth was familiar and you had to stop a bashful smile from blooming like a flower on your lips.
Zhongli was actually humoring you and your silly question, you realized.
"Well... oftentimes, I find myself staring at Silk Flowers, knowing that they remind me of your soft gaze and that I'd want to give them to you as a gift. Although, at times, that plan is unable to come to fruition if I forgot to bring a pouch of Mora with me," he mused, eyes closed.
You stifle a mirthful laugh with your hand at the last part, even more when you noticed that he was stating it matter-of-factly rather than saying it as a joke.
"And when I sit down to watch Ms. Yun's performance, there are times where a voice in my mind echoes to me, 'they would've loved this' as I listen. Slowly but surely, you begin to occupy my mind so naturally, as natural as the cycle of the sun and the moon," he added.
You were hanging onto his every word, his melodious voice, his beautiful amber irises, his everything. You knew why; because he was never the type to sweeten his words with sugar or honey, never with the intention to entice you into falling harder for him with speech. No, rather, it was because Zhongli was always honest. As if his words were gospel to your ears; anything he said, he meant it and this time was no exception.
If there was ever a moment that you wished you could capture and replay over and over again like a broken record, it would have surely been this one. It was only when his previously serious tone morphed into a fit of chuckles was how you realized you were spacing out. His eyes crinkled even more beautifully than the crescent in the night sky as he said, "Well, is that enough or shall I tell you more?"
"N-no, that's enough," you tried to hide your face behind your unoccupied hand, albeit horribly failing because Zhongli only seemed to laugh harder. His voice echoed like music in your ears and Archons, you just fell more and more for him.
He said it himself; that he was yours, yours, yours, finally yours.
(But at the time, you were yet to be made aware of the stories from the past.)
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
THE SECOND TIME you asked him that question was when you discovered that Zhongli, once, had a lover. At first, it wasn't surprising to you because almost everyone had a love that either wasn't meant to be or lost itself to time. In his case, it was the latter, or so you heard from the whispers of passersby.
"There is a tavern that puts a vase of Glaze Lilies on their tables when they open at nighttime and when the gentleman from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor visits, he stares at the flowers longingly while he sits. I think the flowers remind him of someone."
"Maybe it's Mx. [Y/N] he is thinking about?"
But you knew better, Zhongli said it to you himself; Silk Flowers were what reminded him of you, not Glaze Lilies. A trivial detail to some, but it meant a lot to you. You weren't mad nor angry but instead, you felt rather curious.
You never heard any of the stories from Zhongli himself, although you supposed you already knew why. It was either he never brought it up to shelter your feelings, or maybe even his own. They said curiosity was what killed the cat, but you still held on to this curiosity, whether that be for better or for worse.
When you finally came to the decision that you'd gather the courage to ask him about her someday, it was a time when the both of you were resting from the mundane routines of the day. Your head was on his lap and his fingers were tangled in your hair, courtesy of being gently pulled onto his lap after you complained about a headache quietly.
The desire to ask Zhongli about his previous lover was constantly knocking in the back of your mind, the words of it lost somewhere on your tongue. Was this a good decision? Why did you become so inquisitive as of late? But you finally managed to gulp down the boulder of hesitation caught in your throat.
"...What kind of person was she? The one before me?"
Your tone was doubtful, your question was vague — but still, his fingers that were just carding through your hair stopped. Halted in its tracks so abruptly that you felt an instant rush of worry coursing through you, you sat up from your position with a concerned frown.
"'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"No," the man shook his head, his voice meeker than the usual certainty that you had grown used to. Your heart sank, had you crossed the line? As if your thoughts were written across your forehead, Zhongli placed his hands on your shoulders and laid you back onto his lap. "It's alright," he smiled.
You wondered if that smile was just a front to comfort you, but his gentle gesture was too hard to resist and you found staring up at his face with your head on his thigh. His gaze didn't meet yours, however; he wasn't trying to avoid you but rather, he was looking into the distance.
Looking at something, looking at a memory.
"She was wonderful," he uttered, a delayed answer to the question you asked him. The image of a fond smile had seemed to sew itself tight on his lips, you couldn't help but gape in awe at his beauty. Oblivious to your adoring gaze, he continued his story, "We used to chatter into the night, she more than I, about the present and future of Liyue with cups of Osmanthus Wine in our hands."
His fingers made themselves at home in between your locks again, smoothing out and counting the strands idly. You managed to note a familiar detail in his words as you hummed, "Osmanthus Wine? Like the one you brought home for us the other day?"
"Yes, dear, like the one I brought home for us that day," Zhongli chuckled at the sudden way your sharp memory decided to make itself apparent. "I used to drink the wine with her and my old friends," he added. Zhongli always had a fondness for that drink and only now, had he told you why.
But it invoked an unnamed feeling inside your chest, knowing that mellow yet sweet drink you once shared with your lover was actually a token from the past he used to share with another. ...Was this jealousy? No, you shouldn't. You felt guilty, terrible for feeling this way when he was speaking of nostalgic memories so beautifully.
"You must've loved her greatly," you tried to muster a smile, one that looked sweet from the outside but came from a bitter place deep down. "Yes, I did," Zhongli smiled too and the genuineness in that smile only hurt you even more.
Will he ever speak of you that way too? Will you be able to replicate the happiness that came with his previous lover and his old friends?
"Do you—" Before you knew it, you had already begun to ask yet another question that seemed to bubble up without a second thought. Your lips were dry as you carried on your sentence, "Do you love me too?"
As much as her? More than her? Less than her? Words unspoken.
All you knew was that you craved an answer from him. You didn't want reassurance, you just wanted the truth. But was it hypocrisy if you said that deep down, you were expecting yourself to be more special in his eyes? No, expecting wasn't the right word, it was hoping.
"Yes, I loved her and I love you," Zhongli smiled again, wistful. His voice was loving and his answer was said so clearly — but somehow, it only left you feeling even emptier than before.
You didn't know why, but something was just missing. Unsettled, an uneasy feeling that'd make your stomach churn like realizing that you left the door open or forgot something important at the tip of your tongue.
(Or maybe, you really were a hypocrite, after all.)
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
For the past two times, you realized that you had been asking Zhongli the same question, merely presented in different shades. First, it was: "Do you love me?" An innocence that was meant to be a confirmation that your dream to be his finally came true. Second, it was: "Do you love me too?" A question that derived from the insecurity of knowing that he once had a lover who clearly outshone you in every way.
It was only during THE THIRD TIME you asked him that question were you finally able to pinpoint that hidden void in your chest from last time — and it just so happened that this revelation descended as the two of you stood in front of an unnamed grave.
But the bouquet of Glaze Lilies in Zhongli's hands was already telling of whom the place of resting belonged to. The sheer longing in his gaze was a telling indication too, as painful as it was for you to admit.
For these past few days, Zhongli was kind enough to tell you stories about his former lover; of her bright mind, of her delightful demeanor, of her connection to a field of Glaze Lilies in his mind, of her memorable presence in his life. Even in this moment, he invited you to come alongside him to visit her grave, an intimate and precious place that he never disclosed to anyone before. But you knew that he made sure that your comfort was his priority, never speaking or telling too much unless you specifically asked.
"It's growing dark," the sigh that came with his words drifted away to become one with the wind. You assumed if it weren't for the time, the both of you could've lingered for a little bit longer here. Zhongli kneeled on one knee to place the bouquet on top of the grave, you watched silently as a sign of respect. There were a few moments of nostalgic silence as he stood up. He rested his hands on the back of his waist, a little habit of his, and he tore his gaze away from the grave to you.
"I must thank you for accompanying me here today," Zhongli regarded you with a sweet smile but somehow, this smile was much more feeble than usual.
"Before, I was only able to cherish memories of her alone by myself," he stated as he stared into the darkening skies above that was beginning to make way for the moon to shine. But he wanted to look at you in the eyes as he spoke, so the male pivoted aside to face you properly. "You've given me the opportunity to speak of her legacy. I know that this topic might not be the easiest for you to hear, so I just want to thank you. For understanding and for listening." The smile on his face as he spoke was growing wider this time, more earnest.
Words failed you, all you could manage was to return his smile with your own. Zhongli was kind, too kind, really... which only made the guilt upon your shoulders grow heavier, for you had one last question to ask of him.
"Let's go home, dear," he held out a hand towards you, fully expecting you to grab onto it so the two of you can make your journey back to Liyue Harbor — and you did, you grabbed onto his hand but you didn't move from your position.
Your feet were firmly planted on the ground at the very same spot. Your chest felt heavier than any metal bladesmiths could ever hope to get their hands on, but you told yourself multiple things: one, that this question will be the last one and two, that his answer will not change anything between you.
You just needed to know, was all.
"Zhongli," you croaked out his name. His amber eyes crinkled at the corners with concern as he replied, "Yes?" Archons, you couldn't bear the reality that you were the one causing him to feel that way, but you managed to force the words out of your mouth before you put this off any longer.
"...Do you love her most?"
Zhongli froze, just like the very first time you mentioned her name to him that day. His mouth opened then closed again, thinking of the right words to respond. What was happening?
He was always known for his ability to be straightforward and honest. Yes, that was what he'd normally do, but that was one of the concepts about love. Love makes you do strange things, love makes you stray from your usual self before it has yet to course through your veins, love is strange — and for the first time in forever, Zhongli hesitated.
You searched for his eyes for an answer and you couldn't help, but wonder: why was he hesitating now? "Tell me the truth, tell it as it is like how you always do. But if you don't wish to answer, I understand," you squeezed his head reassuringly.
You weren't forceful, you gave him a chance to refuse, but that look in your eyes; just how much you needed to know, just how much you needed an answer. Was this the matter that bothered you all this time? Finally, he was able to figure out why such a forlornly aura had begun following you ever since the day you asked him about her.
He'll do it, he'll give you an answer. Zhongli is never one to lie and this time, he wouldn't either. He repeated your question to himself in his mind: Does he love her the most? And the answer that trickled out of his mouth in a quiet whisper was... "Yes," he said.
Your eyes widened. Not in disappointment, not in expectation, but in disbelief upon finally receiving the answer to the fog that had engulfed you for so long.
"I would cross the ocean for her, I would sacrifice my last breath for her, I would wait a lifetime of solitude for her. Even until now, that has not changed," he murmured.
"I see," you smiled ruefully, but it didn't reach your ears. You weren't able to meet her, but just through witnessing the utter loyalty the man you loved had for her, she must've been as wonderful as he described her to be. Of course, she was his greatest love and that's alright. He had all the rights to love someone that wasn't you, that's alright too. At least, the truth was finally revealed, right? That was all you wanted, right?
Right, [Y/N]?
"Please do not cry."
Zhongli spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence where you were left consumed by your own thoughts. You didn't even notice the tears that were rolling down your cheeks until he pointed it out — the warmth of Zhongli's fingers as he tried to wipe away at the pearly liquids on your face was careful, but that gesture only seemed to bring forward more of them.
He averted his gaze, "It was not my intention to make you cry..." Here came that unfamiliar hesitation again, rendering his tongue into a jumbled mess. But Zhongli decided to push through, there was something he wanted you to know; "I've never lied to you," he said, his voice and gaze were firm.
"When I told you that looking at Silk Flowers reminds me of your gaze and I want to give them to you. When I told you that I loved her and I love you. When I said that I love her the most."
By now, your tears had stopped and the only traces left of them were the drying streaks on your face. The times where you had asked him all those questions came rushing back in an instant as he listed them amidst his musing.
"Those things, they are not lies," Zhongli encased your trembling hand with both of his own, causing your blurry eyes to look at him. "I love you. This is not a lie either," he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
You were silent and he could feel the worry swirling inside his chest. It was only several seconds after that your mouth began to move, yet he couldn't make out what you had said. With a frown, the tall brown-haired male leaned closer and only then did he hear the words falling from your lips: "I never doubted that at all," you whispered in between sniffles.
"That wasn't a lie either, in case you're wondering," you chipped in. He chuckled, mused that you used his words against him so quickly, endeared by your very existence before him. But most importantly, his voice was rid of the sadness that he had upon seeing your tear-stricken face prior.
"Let's go home, my love," Zhongli said those words softly, as soft as the way he tucked back a stray strand of your hair that fell from its original position.
You nodded.
It was during that fateful dusk where you learnt that you were not his greatest love and that's alright. It'll take time to fully register itself in your heart and that's alright too.
(After all, he said that he loves you — and Zhongli is anything but a liar. Everything is alright, right?)
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @herdrops @lleoll — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]
© SEELESTIA, dec 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own. happy birthday, jae!
1K notes · View notes
little-diable · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 22 - Tom Riddle
Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
🩶 Day 22 🩶 BDSM
Warnings: 18+, oral (m), bondage, choking, blindfolding, pain kink, Tom being Tom
Tom Riddle x fem!reader (900 words)
header by @deathofpeaceofmind
My Kinktober Masterlist
“But I want to see you.” Her quiet words filled the room, forcing a dark, raspy chuckle out of the man who towered over her, naked upper body on full display. (Y/n) was kneeling for him, completely naked, with her wrists tied to her ankles. He tightened his grip on the blindfold he was holding, only shaking his head before he covered her eyes with the silky fabric. 
“You know the rules, you don’t get to speak, you don’t get to make any orders, you’re here for my pleasure, that’s all you’ll ever be, my toy, mine.” The possessiveness lacing the “mine” rolling off Tom’s tongue made her walls clench around nothing, keeping her mouth shut. (Y/n) had to focus on her senses, on what she could hear, what she could feel, what she could smell. The scent of the candles burning in the room crawled up her nostrils like Death’s own harbinger, knowing that Tom could get rid of her with a snap of his fingers. 
“I have to say, I like you like that, ready for me to use. I should keep you around all day, have you whenever I want you.” A “Yes, please” wanted to leave her, but (y/n) knew better than to speak up, keeping quiet as she listened to Tom undoing his trousers, freeing his cock. Without any warnings leaving the tall man, he forced his cock past her lips, making her gasp in surprise. 
Her hands ached to touch him, fighting against the rope slowly cutting into her soft skin, forcing her to hold still as her tongue got to trace his veins, exploring the skin she knew like the back of her hand. Tom and her had been doing their back and forth for months, finding shelter in the dark shadows others tried to escape from, giving into their longings like pleasure-drunken addicts. 
Tom’s deep moans reverberated through the room, eyes staring down on her kneeling frame, letting his eyes wander over her exposed skin, over the features that were partly hidden by the blindfold, the hair he reached for with his pale hand, guiding the bobbing motion of her head. She was his all, his toy, the one he longed for – a longing he’d never put into words she could understand. 
“Fuck, I should choke you with my cock, make you pass out with your lips still wrapped around me. And yet you’d still want me to fuck you, to stuff you full, wouldn’t you?” (Y/n) could only hum around him, silently cursing him for taking her eyesight, wanting to watch the pleasure tugging on his features, desperate to watch him come undone, all because of her. 
The bobbing motion grew faster with every passing moment, guided by Tom’s impatience, forcing her to pick up her speed with his fingertips digging into the soft skin of her scalp. He was marking her up in every way imaginable, his to own, his to use. His cock twitched in her mouth, tip grazing the back of her throat whenever her eagerness took over, letting her tears soak the fabric of the blindfold. 
She was desperate for some friction, wanting to be touched, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t shuffle around on her aching knees, all thanks to the tight rope that forced her to hold still. And yet she’d endure it all for him. (Y/n) could tell that he was close, breaths growing shallow, ripping through him like a spell only Tom could pronounce. 
But before he could cum down her throat, he pulled away, leaving her confused. A shriek clawed through (y/n) as she felt one of his hands around her throat, while the other loosened the rope. Tom manhandled her onto his mattress, keeping her wrists still bound together behind her back, making her hiss in pain as she laid on them. And yet the pain filled her with a sick satisfaction, feeling her arousal seep out of her tightness. It was a sick and twisted game they were playing, but neither of them dared to even think of stopping. 
Tom shuffled around on the bed, hand finding her throat once again, cutting off her airway for a few seconds. With her heart picking up its beat, she felt him rip the blindfold from her eyes, making her blink a few times before she could adjust to the darkness. Without needing him to speak up, (y/n) knew what Tom was about to do, he wanted to paint her skin white, wanted to relieve himself on her naked chest, forcing her to watch.
His pale hands pumped his cock, making both groan in anticipation, watching his cock twitch in his grasp. A moan left Tom as he was pushed over the edge, cum meeting her breasts, staining the body he owned, very well knowing that this wasn't the only way he’d mark her up tonight. She watched him fall apart, watched him give in with her teeth sunk into her lower lip, drawing blood from the thin skin. 
“Don’t think of moving, I am not done with you yet, pet. This was only the beginning.”
194 notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 1 year
Text
Soiled
Pairing: Motocross!Curtis Everett x Female Reader Summary: Curtis can't stand you. At least, that's what he tells himself. Word Count: Over 820 Warnings: Very mild eventual enemies to lovers, quick judgement, light banter, Curtis doesn't want to admit he wants you. Motocross!Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Meet Rusty and Princess! My first time writing for Curtis. Excited to dive into their eventual romance. Thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for looking this over, @buckyownsmylife for the Rusty nickname, and @nocturne-pisces for previous discussions. Any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly, banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Curtis Everett couldn’t stand you from the moment he laid eyes on you.
When he wasn’t racing or practicing, he worked at the salvage yard that your father owned. He didn’t mind the work and the pay was decent.
Between his job and the tracks, he was bound to be surrounded by dirt and grime.
While he enjoyed working for your dad, who showed time and again that he was a hard worker who respected his employees, you were a different story.
The first time he spotted you at the yard, you walked toward the office with a casual sort of haughtiness that made him sneer.
Your purse likely cost more than his entire paycheck, as did the rest of your outfit.
Glancing at your manicured nails as you stopped walking, he wondered if you ever worked a day in your life.
A princess amongst peasants. He knew the type all too well.
“Excuse me,” you said, sliding your sunglasses down to stare at him with a cool, assessing gaze when he didn’t say anything. “Excuse me.”
“What do you want?” Curtis asked, thankful that it wasn’t his customer service skills he was paid for.
“You’re kind of standing in front of the door and I’d like to go inside.”
“Please, tell me you’re not applying for a job here,” he said before he could stop himself, looking you up and down. “You’re a little overdressed.”
He did not sweep his gaze over you because he found you attractive.
You lifted your chin with a grin. “I have a job, thanks. I’m actually here to see my dad.”
Curtis glanced at the door over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, my dad,” you said, taking a cautious step forward, like you were afraid you’d scuff your shoe. “He owns this place.”
Looking you over again, he couldn’t imagine you as the boss's daughter.
Your blue collar father who tore it up on the track before he stopped racing years ago didn’t seem like the type to raise a spoiled brat.
To be fair, Curtis didn’t actually know if you were a brat. He knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
But he already placed you in the “first class” section of his mind.
Too good for someone like him.
“So, may I please go inside?” you asked, sliding your sunglasses back up. “You’re still standing in front of the door.”
“By all means, princess,” he said, taking a bow before he stepped to the side.
You scoffed as you brushed past him, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air. “Aww, if I’m a princess, does that make you my brave knight?”
“Not a chance,” he muttered, torn between purposely bumping into you to get your clothes dirty or shoving you against the door and kissing you.
No, he was not going to think of how your lips would taste. He refused.
“That’s too bad,” you said over your shoulder. “So nice to meet you, Rusty.”
“My name is Curtis,” he said through his teeth, wondering why he bothered correcting you.
“Tell that to the name on your shirt and the dirt on your face. Bye, Rusty!” you said, shutting the door behind you.
"It's Curtis!" he shouted, snatching the hat off his head and almost throwing it in frustration.
He vented later that day to Daisy, one of his only female friends.
“Just because she dresses well doesn’t mean she’s stuck up. Maybe she just likes to look nice."
"No, she's a stuck up pretty princess," he argued.
"You just called her pretty."
"When are you gonna ask Steve out?" he asked, changing the subject because he refused to focus on the fact that you were pretty.
No, he already made his mind up about you.
It didn’t matter that you started stopping by the yard more to bring your dad and the crew food, which he grudgingly accepted after Edgar gave him a hard time.
"She's just sucking up," Curtis said, wiping his hands before he grabbed a sandwich.
"It's working," Edgar said with a mouthful of food.
It never once got under his skin that you still called him “Rusty” with a smirk whenever he called you "Princess".
"You know my name, Princess. Watch where you're stepping."
"Careful, Rusty," you teased. "I'll start to think you care if I get dirty."
And it didn't mean a thing when you stepped into the office late one night to help sort your dad's paperwork when he had to leave early.
Which was the first time he saw you look less than perfect when he caught you wiping a stray tear away as you headed back to your car.
He thought of calling after you to see if you were okay, but he didn't. He was probably seeing things.
Besides, it wasn't any of his business. You weren't his girl.
A princess like you never would be.
Tumblr media
What do we think, lovelies? And, yes, Daisy is another reader who is totally crushing on Steve Rogers. Curtis approves. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Dialed In Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
587 notes · View notes
sophiethewitch1 · 3 months
Text
1K CELEBRATION EVENT OPEN! CLOSED!
Tumblr media
Hello, welcome! This event is going to celebrate my first thousand followers :D!! It's as the header says, a yandere alphabet, but with my special brand of soft yandere. Please feel free to send in letters for whoever you'd like, there's no limit, I might just pick and choose if you request a lot of letters. Thank you so much for following, I'm so happy you're here! Let's keep having lots of fun together <3 <3
ACCEPTING A-Z REQUESTS FOR:
The batboys (Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Duke) The batgirls (Barbara, Steph, Cass) My OCs (Silvan, Daire, etc.) MAYBE for most DC characters, blue lock characters, bnha characters
Alphabet made by @/jaydenchip404 tysm for making this!
List below the cut!
A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):
B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):
C = Cruelty (Once Abducted, How is Their Treatment Marked by a Twisted Sense of Devotion? Does Mockery Become a Dark Form of Endearment?):
D = Darling (Beyond Morality, is Any Act Justified in Their Pursuit of Their Darling? Is Consent Merely an Obstacle to Be Overcome?):
E = Exposed (To What Extent Do They Bare Their Heart to Their Darling? How Vulnerable Are They When It Comes to Their Obsession?):
F = Fight (Does Resistance Only Fuel Their Passion? Do They Find Thrill in the Chase and the Challenge of Subduing Their Darling?):
G = Game (Is Every Move Meticulously Orchestrated, Turning the Pursuit Into a Twisted Game? Do They Derive Pleasure From Watching Their Darling Attempt Escape?):
H = Hell (How Carefully Crafted is Their Darling's Worst Experience, Designed to Break the Spirit While Strengthening the Bonds of Possession?):
I = Ideals (Does Their Envisioned Future Solely Revolve Around the Union With Their Darling? Is Their Love the Only Guiding Force?):
J = Jealousy (Does Jealousy Course Through Their Veins, Leading to Possessive Outbursts and a Relentless Need to Eliminate Perceived Threats?):
K = Kisses (Are Their Acts of Affection Both Tender and Suffocating? Do Their Kisses Blend Love and Possession, Leaving No Room for Escape?):
L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):
M = Mask (How Drastic is the Difference Between Their Public Facade and True Self? Is the World Seeing a Mask, While Their Darling Witnesses Unfiltered Madness?):
N = Naughty (Is Punishment a Dark Art, a Methodical Infliction of Pain Designed to Correct Perceived Transgressions and Reinforce Control?):
O = Oppression (How Many Rights Are They Willing to Take Away From Their Darling, Molding Their World Into a Prison of Their Design?):
P = Patience (Is Their Patience a Calculated Facade, Concealing the Storm Brewing Beneath the Surface? Is It a Waiting Game for the Perfect Moment?):
Q = Quit (Is Moving on an Alien Concept for Them? Would the Death, Departure, or Escape of Their Darling Shatter Their World, Leaving Behind an Irreparable Void?):
R = Regret (Would Guilt Ever Be a Foreign Emotion, Overridden by the Conviction That Their Actions Are Justified? Is the Idea of Letting Their Darling Go Inconceivable?):
S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):
T = Tears (Does the Sight of Their Darling's Suffering Evoke a Twisted Pleasure, a Morbid Satisfaction Reinforcing Their Control?):
U = Unique (Do They Defy the Classic Yandere Archetype, Adding Layers of Complexity That Make Them Unpredictable and More Unnerving?):
V = Vice (Do Exploitable Weaknesses Exist, and is Discovering Them a Perilous Endeavor? Does Their Darling Tread on a Thin Line Between Manipulation and Survival?):
W = Wit's End (Is Hurting Their Darling a Dark Possibility, a Consequence of Their Unraveling Sanity When Faced With the Threat of Loss?):
X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):
Y = Yearn (Is the Pining Relentless, an Insatiable Hunger That Consumes Their Every Waking Moment Until It Inevitably Snaps Into Obsession?):
Z = Zenith (Is Breaking Their Darling a Twisted Fantasy, the Ultimate Expression of Possession and the Culmination of Their Demented Love?):
70 notes · View notes
epitomereally · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Celestial Navigation by @sabrecmc
18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.
An absolutely gorgeous story of learning to love yourself, even when you feel like you don't fit in & that you grew up wrong. I'm so happy to have gotten to bind this mammoth work for Sabre & as a gift exchange for @mourningmountainsbindery (who bound me this beautiful copy of Astolat's Let the River Run—JUST LOOK AT THAT COVER!).
Also to anyone who has @ed me lately (looking at u, em @powerful-owl & tacky @tackytigerfic particularly) & I've been derelict in responding, here is WHY.
This has been the longest binding project I've undertaken, both in page count and in time. My original message to Sabre was on March 16th—can't decide if I want to use the laughing or crying emoji here—and the colophon says I made the book in April 2023 (which was when I started typesetting, maybe). I had been randomly perusing dying videos on Youtube in bed on a Saturday morning, as one does, and came across a video showing how to spiral tie-dye. I IMMEDIATELY had a design premonition of the full design for this fic as a two-volume set, planted into my brain wholesale by the binding gods. I learned many new techniques throughout the process (edge painting, edge trimming/sanding, tie-dying/dyepainting, embroidery, typesetting meta from tumblr which copy-pastes with the worst goddamn formatting in the world, kill me now). Overall, alternately extremely painful & wonderful, and I'm extremely proud of this set.
Design-wise, I went whole-hog with the scifi stars theme. Endpapers are recolored versions of the star charts from the Apollo 11 mission:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Title page & chapter titles are both rips in the galaxy:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Epigraphs both star-themed:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Some more glamor shots because I'm so proud 💕
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
8.6 lbs // 3.8 kgs worth of books (~3000 total pages) 🥰
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Celestial Navigation is also INCREDIBLY popular, and Sabre has been incredibly generous answering asks on her tumblr + writing additional one-shots in the universe. There is also a veritable volume of fanart. I was so inspired by seeing @robins-egg-bindery copy of ********, with its appendix of fanart & meta, that I promptly copied them.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
fanart redacted because lots of the artists are no longer active on tumblr but just know i am ECSTATIC about the amount of art in these books
Lastly, I love how @clovenhoofbindery includes their 'Illustrator mess' with their bind posts, as a behind-the-scenes look into the wild process of designing these books. I don't actually have an Illustrator mess for this book (the chapter titles & title page pretty much came in one take), but I do have a DYING MESS. It took me sososo many tries to figure out how to get the dye to look how I imagined in my head. I ended up 'dye painting' instead of tie-dying in the end, but my inbox is always open to chat hand-dying/tie-dying/dyepainting (or what I did differently between any of these attempts). Numbers are the dying attempt.
Tumblr media
Last process shot: I hand-dyed variegated linen thread to match the colors of the bind, which ends up being incredibly difficult to see on the finished bind, but was super fun while I was sewing!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Materials:
Body font: Kepler
Title font: Compaq 1982
Chapter number font: aliens & cows
Endpapers: recolored versions of the star chart used by Michael Collins during the Apollo 11 mission (archived at The Smithsonian)
Bookcloth: dyed using Dharma Trading Procion Fiber-Reactive Dyes
Title page and chapter headers: designed in Photoshop using the Ultimate Space brush pack by jeffrettalyn on DeviantArt
Metallic embroidery thread: Cosmo Nishikiito thread
I would dye for this embroidery thread. It is LIGHT YEARS better than the classic metallic embroidery thread from DMC: much easier to work with & much more sparkly. Literally so eye-catching; it truly doesn't translate to photos.
Paint for edges: Daniel Smith watercolor tubes in Iridescent Sunstone and Prussian Blue
Note: these are GORGEOUS watercolors. The color is so saturated and strong and beautiful BUT I don't think I'd recommend watercolors for edge painting. They went on very differently depending on the grit of the sandpaper I used for the edges + they sometimes bled into the pages + they had to be set with fixative, which then stuck the pages together.
128 notes · View notes
bl00dst41ned · 8 months
Text
*.·:·.✦ baby tears ✦.·:·.*
Tumblr media
pairing: trent alexander-arnold x female oc (named her Astrid)
summary: in which having a child can be hard but with the help of someone it may feel better
author's note: @l4vines asked for some fluffy dad Trent so here is my attempt to deliver. also i need to change these headers i despise them now. as usual, not proofread.
warnings: mentions of postpartum anxiety/depression, baby blues (I’ll try to approach the subject as carefully as I can)
word count: 937
The small lamp on the nightstand lightened the wide master bedroom. Light snores resonated from Trent’s mouth as he slept peacefully. At his side sat his longtime girlfriend, Astrid, legs folded with their newborn son, Elijah, lying on them and eating his milk out of his bottle. She looked at his face, beams of light showcasing his lips’ movements. His eyes remained closed as his fingers gesticulated, trying to grip his bottle.
Elijah was born two months ago, after nine long eventful months. Astrid had to be bed-bounded for the last three months of her pregnancy, which left her very frustrated.
After his birth, she felt relieved to be alive and mostly to have a healthy son. Though Astrid tried to give him all the care he needed, it still didn’t feel right. She would feel the urge to cry anytime she interacted with Elijah. Even if she did everything right, she could not stop doubting herself. And now was no different.
Small tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched Elijah eat slowly. The mix of her sniffs and the baby’s whimpers woke Trent up. He slowly moved around on the bed before turning to face his small family. He held a little smile on his face but it soon turned into a frown once he realised his partner crying. Again.
Trent knew this kind of episode happened to her, and they became even more frequent the past week. In a talk with his mom, she taught him about postpartum and how it was not always an easy and happy moment for the woman. After a few researches on his own, Trent feared she would suffer from postpartum depression or something close to it. He didn’t know how to talk to her about it but he could not bear seeing her that way anymore.
“Azzy” He called her by her childhood nickname.
She quickly wiped her cheeks in an attempt to hide her emotions from her boyfriend. He sat up, leaning on the headboard. Since he could not properly hold her, he simply left a kiss on her temple as tears uncontrollably rolled down her face.
“I can’t seem to get over this” Astrid sobbed, her head on his chest and her eyes glued on Elijah’s face. “He deserves so much better and I just don’t know how to give it to him”
“You already do. You handle Elijah with as much care as you can give him, despite doubting yourself. No matter how you feel, you’re always there for him” His words definitely comforted her and soothed an inner wound that desperately needed it. “Elijah trusts you, now you need to trust yourself and know how much of a good mother you are”
“Thank you so much, Trent. Genuinely.” She put the baby bottle away about to place Elijah on her shoulder for him to burp “You don’t know how much it means to me”
“That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep Az, I got him” He grabbed Elijah out of her hold placing him on his shoulder as Astrid laid back down under the covers, trying to doze off.
A few minutes later, she felt Trent get back into the bed, instantly wrapping his arms around her waist.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 
In the following weeks, Trent made sure to be as supportive as he could of Astrid. He made sure to uplift her every day and compliment her so that she felt better not only about her parenting but also about herself. Slowly but surely, she gained more and more confidence as a woman and also as a mother.
“Give me the wipes,” Astrid asked as she lifted Elijah’s lower body up to change him.
Trent did as asked watching her eyebrows knit from her concentration. He observed her movements, and how soft she was whenever she touched him. He also listened to how she talked him through the process even though the newborn did not understand one bit. She was the best mother ever in his eyes, now it was her turn to see it.
Astrid finished dressing Elijah back up before giving him to Trent while she put the products away. She came back to the living room to a cute interaction between the two men of her life: Trent kissing their son’s face repeatedly, earning a smile and what could be a laugh from the newborn.
She joined them on the couch, sitting on her right leg as she smiled, looking at them.
“You’re good?”
She knew he didn’t mean it as of today but in general.
“Yeah, better since that night we talked. And I would not feel that way if it was not for you. You really helped me a lot”
“That’s what I’m here for” 
And he meant it. The moment he decided to get into a relationship with her three years ago, he accepted having to deal with anything she went through by her side. Even more, now that they had become a family.
“You’re ready for tomorrow?” He turned to face her but she broke eye contact.
“Not really. But it’s a step at getting better.”
They both decided that it could be good for Astrid to see a therapist, just to let her feelings out and receive some guidance. Trent even offered to go with her but she emphasized wanting these sessions to be for her only, where she was free to vent, with nobody she knew around her.
“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, don’t forget it” Trent spoke truthfully, her face blushing from his comment.
“I love you, Azzy”
“I love you too, Trent”
Tumblr media
like, repost and suggest (closing on september 1st) (hope you enjoyed it)
masterlist for more
140 notes · View notes
saiyanprincessswanie · 5 months
Text
SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 173 & 174
Tumblr media
Welcome to Weeks 173 & 174
A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 45 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.
As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜
Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.
Click HERE for past reading lists.
For my Masterlist click HERE
Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.
Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
Header by @fictional-affairs
If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.
I love you 3000 💜 Missy
Tumblr media
Peanut - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie
Not normal photos - @nekoannie-chan
Impossible - (Steve x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan
The Sanctuary of Hope - (Jake x Reader) - @peyton-warren
Grumpy Sandwich - (Ari x Reader x Curtis) - @adulting-sucks
His Silly Princess - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival
Payback is Sweet - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog
Neglected - (Ari x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18
Curtis And Honey Autumn This Or That - Baking Cookies - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Curtis And Honey Autumn This Or That - Eating Pie - @/sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Curtis and Honey Autumn This or That - Misty Mornings - @/sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Temporary Job - (Ransom x Reader) - @navybrat817
Just a Dream - (Nick x Reader) - @/navybrat817
Tipsy, smutty headcanons w/ cevans characters (pt. 1) - @levans44
Tipsy, smutty headcanons w/ cevans characters (pt. 2) - @/levans44
Glitter - @/nekoannie-chan
Do not read - (Steve x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan
Oh What A Night - (Jake x Reader) - @adulting-sucks
In Sickness and In Health - (Steve x Reader) - @ronearoundblindly
Just What I Needed (3) - (Bucky x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Jackpot - (Curtis x Reader) - @/stargazingfangirl18
Bloodbath - (Ari x Reader) - @/stargazingfangirl18
Leather jackets and love - (Steve x Reader x Bucky) - @holylulusworld
Heart of a Wolf - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog
Collared part 23 - @spnexploration
His Inheritance - Part 26 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18
Just Right - Chp 8 - (Steve x Reader) - @darsynia
Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 22 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Though I Have Never Read It - Part 7 - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim
Let You Down - (Ari x Reader) - @navybrat817
missing you - (Bucky x Reader) - @nickfowlerrr
Bound To You - (Bucky x Reader) - @flordeamatista
Undead - @/nekoannie-chan
Something else - (Steve x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan
Competition - (Lloyd x Reader) - @holylulusworld
Kiss Me If You Can - (Bucky x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival
Surrender - (Ari x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18
Without a Single String Attached - (Bucky x Reader) - @lunarbuck
Teacher's Pet - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817
Cause That's When I'll See You Again - (Ari x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel
His Inheritance - Part 27 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18
Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 24 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
Though I Have Never Read It - Part 8 - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim
Collared part 24 - @spnexploration
Halloween Nightmare - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan
72 notes · View notes
bluejayblueskies · 3 months
Text
De Tocht Der Koeien \\ The Journey of Cows | MxCaptain
Tumblr media
[ID: A hand-bound book shown from the front. There is gray bookcloth along the spine and black bookcloth on the front pasted on top of silver and black marbled paper. The title in both English (The Journey of Cows) and Dutch (De Tocht Der Koeien) is painted onto the cover in silver fabric paint, as well as the author name MxCaptain and a graphic of grass. /End ID]
As another gift as part of Fandom Trumps Hate 2023, I did a bind of MxCaptain's fic De Tocht Der Koeien and its English translation The Journey of Cows! Both fics are contained within this volume, one after the other.
Tumblr media
[ID: A hand-bound book shown from the spine. The front cover can also be seen from an angle. There is gray bookcloth along the spine. The name in Dutch (De Tocht Der Koeien) and the author name, MxCaptain, are on the spine in silver fabric paint. /End ID]
The cover and spine are both stenciled with silver fabric paint, and the cover has black bookcloth glued atop black-and-gray hand-marbled paper (not marbled by myself). This is, like my previous book, a sewn board binding, and the ends of the boards are painted black.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two images of the interior title pages of the book. The first shows the half-title page, which has both titles De Tocht Der Koeien and The Journey of Cows separated by a line and the author name, MxCaptain, beneath a graphic of a cabin. The second shows a two-page spread with a watercolor painting of a pine-tree-covered hill with some highland cows on it. The same titles can be seen on the righthand page, as well as the same author name. /End ID]
The half-title page precedes the title spread, which has a full-spread painting. The edges have been trimmed (very carefully, using a utility knife, which I only attempt with thin books like this one because it is generally very perilous to trim this way) to bring the book down to A6 size and to get the white space away from the edges of the spread.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[ID: Two images of interior pages of the book. The first image shows the front matter on the left and the summary page on the right. The front matter has QR codes with links to the fics, the Blue Skies Books logo with a bluejay, the Renegade Publishing logo with a bookpress, and information about the book. The summary page has the summary in Dutch and English as well as sketches of cows. The second image shows the chapter header on the righthand side. The chapter header has the English title, The Journey of Cows, encased within a woodcut print of cows, with the text of the fic beneath it. /End ID]
The summary page and chapter headers have some more public domain cow images from rawpixel, and I'm especially pleased with the chapter headers, which I think are very cute!
66 notes · View notes
Text
A Perfect Treat II
Tumblr media
Header made by the wonderful @allieboop
Pairing: Josh x f!reader x Danny
Summary: After a night where Josh shared you with his best friend, there are rules set in place. You might decide to break them and see what happens. 
A Perfect Treat
Word count: 14.2k (yes I know) 
A/N: This is by FAR the filthiest thing I’ve written so far. I’ve been chipping away and picking at it for weeks now. It’s nowhere near perfect, but I’ll lose my mind if I keep looking at it. I’m also a bit nervous to post it. Feedback is always loved and appreciated! Hope y’all enjoy this mess of a fic
Special shout out to Allie, @pennylanefics @josiee-gvf for input, ideas, and letting me talk their ears off about this nonsense. Love you guys ❤️
***Disclaimer: This is going to have stuff between Josh and Danny. This is not going to be everyone’s thing, and I’m aware of that. If that’s the case, just keep on scrolling. **
Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content 18+ - MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penatrative sex, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, edging and orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise and degradation kink, rough sex, thigh riding, fingering and finger warming (it makes sense), teeny bit of breath play, spit kink. I might have missed something. 
It’s not like Josh has been ignoring you on purpose. He would never think to do such a thing. He wouldn’t dream of letting you get this needy and desperate for his attention, or would he?
You know it’s only because he has been busy working tirelessly in the studio on the new record with his brothers for the last few weeks. 
Despite knowing it wasn’t intentional, you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive when he insisted on taking you out to lunch today. You fought the idea, but he was persistent in bringing you along to the studio in hopes of making his absence up to you in any way he could - and you were always wanting to take Josh’s word for it.
You indulged in the romantic notion for a while, but you had been waiting here for nearly an hour since he left you to run a few last-minute errands. You bit back the annoyance that threatened to leave your tongue before he promised to come back shortly to take you out. You work to maintain an uplifted mood but deep down you curse at yourself knowing this was bound to happen when the plans were made. It’s just impossible for you to ever turn down the opportunity to have more time. 
So here you are, doing your best to keep yourself busy with the mindless scrolling on your phone. You even took a break to doodle on the pad of paper with the case of pens Josh keeps stashed away in the studio. 
You have had to entertain yourself since everyone else is either out or hasn’t even arrived yet. 
The only other person here is Danny.
He walked in about fifteen minutes ago while Josh was out, and gave you a friendly wave as he strutted past to start practicing in the other room. You shrugged it off at first as it wasn’t unusual for him to show up a bit earlier than the rest of the guys. 
He strummed and played around with a few riffs on one of the acoustic guitars before finding his way over to his kit. You simply ignore him as you reply to unanswered messages from friends and check through different social media feeds.
It appears to be successful until the sinful thoughts of your night spent together start to creep up to the forefront of your mind. You try to stomp them out, you're the heel to a fleeing spider. It has only been a few weeks since it happened, but memories are playing over in a constant loop as if they were made hours prior.
You haven’t slept together since that night, and not because you didn’t want to. You haven’t even really talked about it. Silent exchanges and passing glances were given, but in the end, it became clear that it was down to the opportunity and timing. After it all happened, Josh quickly established a rule between you - that if you were to fool around with Danny, he was to be there as well. 
The others not being privy to your new arrangement is making things more difficult than you would have anticipated. 
You give up in defeat from trying to push him from your mind to sit up on the couch and walk over to one of the chairs positioned in front of the large glass window of the sound booth. You lean forward in the seat, taking in the sight and listening closely to the sounds of him playing. Just in case you had to offer any feedback or even some critique if he were to ask. 
It's a fruitless attempt, because all you’re doing is staring at the strong muscles in his legs rippling with each deafening pound of the foot pedal thumping into the bass drum or ringing crash of the high hat. He has shed his shirt at some point during his playing. Your focus is directed on the defined muscles of his arms and chest swelling as he throws them across the kit. You watch in awe as his brows pull together in concentration, his face contorting in a wild grimace.
Danny wipes the back of his hand on his face when he finally takes a break, collecting the beads of sweat forming across his thick brow. His chest heaves rapidly with each heavy breath from exertion he’s put his body through. He bends down to grab a bottle of water by his feet, somehow not catching the fact you’re gawking at him. 
Your eyes are glued to his adam’s apple as it bobs low in his throat with each large swallow of water. He’s a breath-taking sight as the lights in the studio reflect off the sheen of sweat across his throat and bare chest. 
Before you know it or a chance to second guess yourself, your feet are carrying you out of the booth. His eyes flicker open and lock onto yours the second he hears you enter the room. You don’t have to say a word as you slink around the various instruments and chairs while making your way towards him. 
 He’s watching you closely, and that devilish smirk spreads with each precise step you make. 
He knows exactly what you want. You might as well write the words in black sharpie across your forehead each time you see the man. Hell, you’re not even able to look at him without blushing red hot at the thought of him between your legs. 
The two of you have been playing this game for weeks. With the way he’s looking at you and how you’re stalking closer to him, you just weren’t sure who was the cat and who was the mouse. 
Danny doesn’t say a word as you walk closer. He pulls the large headphones from his ears and adjusts himself on the seat while you run your finger along the glossy surface of the drums to the kit. First the cymbal, and then across the top edge of the toms - circling to face him. 
The thrill of just touching what seemed to be the most sacred to him sent a jolt of electricity from the tips of your fingers through to the middle of your spine. He keeps a calm face as he follows the trail of your hand with a keen eye until it dances across the edge of the closest cymbal to him.
He decides that he should be the first one to break the silence, “You going to tell me what’s the matter?”
You sigh to yourself, dropping your gaze to your fingers running along the metal, “I’m bored.”
He chuckles softly, sitting up straighter as you approach, “I can see that. But I’m willing to bet it’s not just boredom that brought you in here, is it?”
You choose to ignore the question, tapping along the drum with your index finger. You’re not looking at him but you can hear the rattle of his drumsticks moving in his hand that has been perched up on his thigh. 
The tip of the wooden stick makes contact with the side of your leg, right above the knee and just below the hemline of your dress. You look down to watch him closely as he drags it up at an excruciatingly slow pace, running along the smooth skin of your thigh hidden beneath the flowing fabric, pulling up as he goes. 
His eyes wander up and down your leg, holding up the dress as if to inspect what’s underneath. Shyness almost takes over, hoping that you’re passing whatever test this might be. It’s feeling very reminiscent of a high school crush that you’re trying to impress. 
He makes a low, deep purring sound of approval with a subtle lick across his lips. You want to live in that sound forever. 
Your breath hitches when you feel the polished point trace along the lace edge of your panties. You clench around nothing as he tickles the delicate skin with the lightest brush of the wooden stick.
God, you wish it was his fingers… fuck, even his mouth instead. 
The memories of how he touched you that night plays in your mind again while your eyes close. You imagine the sensation of his fingertips dancing along your body. It almost feels real as the wood dips under the band. A frustrated groan escapes you when he suddenly decides to pull it away to trail back down your leg. 
He doesn’t wait long before gliding it up between your legs this time, teasing the oh-so-sensitive area of your inner thigh. He is applying the right amount of pressure - just enough to make you know it’s there but still leaves you wanting more. Every inch of skin is buzzing, heightened beyond your limit as you stand before him.
With each inch the drumstick glides up your leg, the wetter you become. 
“What’s the matter, princess? Is Prince Charming neglecting you a little too much lately?” He taunts through a knowing grin, noting how much you’re squirming at the seemingly simple action.
“I never said that,” you snap back, letting out the irritation in your words, even if it was the truth. You weren’t ready to reveal that to him yet; you had to hold on to something before giving the satisfaction. 
The drumstick slips effortlessly between your legs, the hard point pressing up against your soaked cunt. The fluttered moan you give up crumbles the weak facade of having any self control. You feel it rub over the damp cotton, just perfectly over your already throbbing clit.
“Hmm.. would fucking you with these be breaking the rules?” He ponders in thought, tapping the stick with that flick of his wrist and smirk growing at the very idea. He presses it against you harder with a precise hand.
You whine out, “…Danny.”  
Heat flashes right through your face, pinkening your cheeks in a matter of seconds. The way you’re already whining his name again like the night spent together was almost too much to bear. 
You step a little closer, making the movement of his hand stop, “Yes?”
“Danny, come on,” you pout. 
You sound so fucking desperate, but the pitched sound of your voice makes his cock twitch the second the words leave your pretty lips. He just isn’t ready to admit to you how much he wants this, too. 
He tuts in disapproval, dragging the stick back and forth, “What would Josh think of this behavior, hm?”   
You wonder with a low hum, feeling more defiant than ever, “I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”
You take another step between his open legs as he guides you in with the drumstick tucked in its place. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get me in trouble,” He laughs, withdrawing the drumstick from your legs to bring it to the pulse point at your throat, right below your chin. 
You swallow against the stick pressing into the soft spot and your eyes drop down to see Danny looking up at you -displaying that same intense look he gives to you when he’s on stage. Like he’s ready to devour you the second he makes it backstage. Behind this drum kit, he’s cockiest he’s ever been and never fails to drive you wild every time you witness it. 
He hums again, correcting himself, “But that’s not it. I know it’s because you’re just dying to get yourself in trouble. Wanna get punished, don’t you, baby girl?” 
You choke out his name once more as you wrap your hand around his wrist holding the stick..the tick. 
The sound coming from you is pitiful…embarrassing really. 
He replaces the lack of the drumstick between your legs with his long, slender fingers. He groans when he feels the warm, wet heat of your pussy cupped in the safety of his palm. You clench around his hand hoping that he keeps going, and hopeful it was. Danny was not going to break Josh’s one rule that easily. 
He lowers the drumstick from your throat and tosses them both off to the side and they scatter across the floor out of your view. His hand rushes to find a place on your hip to tug you forward that much closer.
The pad of his middle finger drags over your covered clit with a precise curl. He’s beaming with excitement as if he had just ripped open a present on Christmas morning, sighing, “I love that you’re such a whore for me.”
All you want is to drop to your knees right then and pull his cock from his skin-tight jeans, to suck him off and fuck him while screaming his name. But you can’t. 
You’re pushing the limits of this boundary, but you swear to yourself you can’t do that. 
Danny must’ve been reading the thoughts of wanting to sit on his lap as they ricocheted around the emptying walls of your head. He pulls in his bottom lip, biting it between his teeth before cooing softly, “Sit that pretty pussy on my thigh, baby. Show me just how bad you want it.”
You’re eager to show him, hell, you would jump him in a heartbeat if he or yourself allowed it. While the idea rolls around in your mind like it’s on a hamster wheel, he helps guide you over his leg with his steady hands secured around your waist. Once you’ve lowered yourself onto his leg with your hands finding his broad shoulders for balance, you feel the denim press against your aching core. His fingers trail down the tops of your thigh, pressing softly into the supple flesh as his dull nails drag along the smooth expanse. He inhales deeply, breathing in the delicate floral notes of your perfume as your hips roll forward. 
He hasn’t bothered to wipe off the sweat covering his torso yet, but you can’t force yourself to care when it bleeds into the fabric on the front of your dress when you’re pulled flush against his chest. The musky scent - one that you recognize from that night and now more intense - fills your head. 
You shamelessly grind yourself against his thigh, and the strong, lean muscles of his leg flex beneath you. The hand planted on your hip pulls and pushes you along like the waves of an incoming tide, adding to the friction to your hidden clit by rubbing through your soaked panties onto the rough denim of his tight jeans. 
The other has been busy exploring you. 
“How much have you been thinking of my cock, hmm?” A breathy chuckle flutters across your ear. His new-found confidence is showing its face, with cockiness dripping through every word as it passes from his lips. 
You huff out an airy laugh, but the sound crackles from your throat as you strain to keep the rhythm of your hips going. If he has you working this hard for your own release like this, you sure as hell weren’t giving him the satisfaction of that answer. 
You lock your arms around his neck to close whatever space is left between you. The embrace is laden with lust with every inch of your body touching his feeling like a flame is brought to the surface. 
You’re positive that this was not in the rules Josh set.  You’re drawn to him like a summer moth to a flickering light. 
 “Do you think about it when he’s fucking you nice and slow?” he asks again in your ear, and the words stick to your conscience like his voice has been dipped in honey.
This time you nod against his cheek and the stray curls tickle your skin. 
His open hand travels up your back to find a hold of your hair, tugging you back by the locks at the nape of your neck. Your eyes flitter down to his lips. You want to kiss him again so badly. 
He looks up through his now heavy lids that are framed beautifully with his long, dark lashes, and smiles up at you, “Mmmm, you are the forbidden fruit, aren’t you?” His tongue darts across his bottom lip, “Good thing I already know what it tastes like.”
He isn’t hesitant about kissing you like he was the first time. He knows exactly what he wants, and it’s you. 
Danny’s fingers release your hair to wrap strongly around your neck, bringing you to his mouth with a firm hand. You bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb against the flushed surface of his cheek. He greets you with the slight salty taste of his sweat, but then the taste starts to melt into a certain sweetness that is him as your tongue licks across his. 
It could be that you’ve been so deprived of something like this, but he really does seem to taste better than he did before. 
Is it because you know you shouldn’t?
Anyone could walk in and see the two of you, but the risk never seemed so enticing. You should be thinking about Josh. The little date that he has planned for you. You did get all dressed up for him today, after all. You made sure that your hair was perfect and took a little extra time doing your makeup. Now you questioned to yourself if it really was only for Josh
A hand sneaks under your dress and grabs your ass beneath the bunched up fabric at the small of your back. He dips his fingers lower to feel between your legs from behind. 
The frantic rocking of your hips to chase the high consumes you. You can’t get enough of him. Just one more hit - one more pass of your core over the hard muscles of his thigh. You should be ashamed of how much you needed this, but you couldn’t drive yourself to care. 
With your face buried into the expanse of Danny’s neck, your heavy panting sends hot breaths of air across the skin. It all feels so rushed, like you’re racing against an imaginary clock - despite the feeling like you’ve lost every sense of time itself. 
What you do notice is Danny feeling rigid against you all of a sudden. He seems like his body froze beneath you with all of his movements on you stalling completely.
What he hasn’t told you yet is that Josh walked in about a minute ago, keeping the fact that he is standing right in the doorway and was watching this scene unfold. That he and Danny have been staring right into each other's eyes while you unravel completely. 
You second guess yourself, but you’re convinced that Danny is right there with you and consumed by this moment. There is no denying how close you are, and it’s doing nothing but clouding all of your judgement so you keep going. 
His hand presses into your hip to stop you with a soft warning mumbled into your hair, “Babygirl, no.”
You lean back to figure out why he has suddenly stopped, and you find that he’s looking through you - well, past you. The expression on his face makes your heart plummet into the pit of your stomach, making you feel like the floor fell out beneath you. You can only flip through the possibilities and it takes you several seconds before you dare yourself to peek over your shoulder. 
Sure enough, your boyfriend is leaning up against the door frame while he takes a sip from the paper coffee cup in his hand, looking over the rim into your eyes. You can’t place what’s going on in his mind. You’re sitting here probably as white as a ghost with every ounce of color draining from your face and there he was, as casual as can be. Your head whips back to Danny, searching for an idea what to do next, but he seems just as clueless. 
You mouth a string of curses in a hushed whisper and when you turn around again, Josh is no longer standing there. 
Before Danny is able to talk you out of it, you clamber off of his lap with the grace of a newborn deer learning to walk for the first time, so he stands to hold your hand while you regain your balance. 
You shake him off to rush towards the door to the sound booth, ironing out the wrinkles on your dress with your palms the best you can. Josh caught you both red-handed and you’re reeling trying to come up with a believable excuse as to why that just happened. 
Nothing remotely passable comes to mind within the seconds it takes you to stumble into the room. You’re expecting him to lash out and scold you the second you walk through the threshold. That this is it. This is going to be your first real fight. What you find is him sitting on the couch, waiting for you right where you should have stayed the entire time. 
You prepare yourself for the worst. 
He just looks up from his phone in his hand, meeting your eyes with that beaming smile of his. Without skipping a beat, he asks as if nothing happened at all,  “Ready to go?”
—————
Lunch with Josh went smoothly. In fact, it seemed to go a little too well even for a normal day out. You sat on the edge of your seat waiting for him to say something, anything about you and Daniel. He never did, he just carried on about the new music among the normal conversation topics, even at one point asking where you’d like to go for the next trip together. 
You played along knowing that he saw what he saw, and that he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. 
Later that evening, you pad quietly into the master bathroom after changing into your pajamas for the night. It’s almost midnight and the both of you are finishing up your routines to get ready for bed. The exhaustion from the day is setting in and you know he is feeling it as well, but this has been your only alone time spent together in private and you weren’t about to pass the opportunity up. 
You find Josh brushing his teeth when you come up behind him. At first, he smiles around his toothbrush when he catches your reflection in the mirror, thinking nothing more of your presence. 
You place your hands at his hips, right at the band of his pajama pants as you lean in to nuzzle into the depths of his fallen curls - smelling the special shampoo he insists on using. He reminds you of the feeling of curling up into a set of fresh linen sheets, still warm from the dryer. 
“Hi, mama,” he mumbles with a mouthful of toothpaste, still thinking of it as an innocent gesture without realizing your true intentions. 
That’s until one of your hands slides around his waist to dip lower between his legs to find what you’ve been craving. His eyes widen and a breath shudders from his chest from your bold advances. 
“Hey!” he giggles as he breaks himself of your hold slightly only to spit the rest of the toothpaste into the sink. He struggles to rinse off his toothbrush and wipe his mouth as you continue to play. The sounds of his laughter are cut off with a rather loud groan from the touch of your hand palming over him. 
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper into his ear, brushing your lips over the soft buzzed hair behind it before nipping at the tiny gold hoop adorning his lobe. You roll the jewelry past your lips to feel the cool metal against your tongue. 
Loving the fact he’s allowing you to take control, it finds its way down the side of his neck, soothing the soft skin after your teeth drag against it. He moans from the teasing sensation, and he can’t help but buck his hips forward into your hand.
He looks into your eyes through the mirror with lust. darkening the honeyed irises, “I missed you, too, sweet girl.”
Your fingers dip below the waistband this time, following along the trail of trimmed hair until you can finally hold his soft cock that’s already starting to harden in your hand.
You begin to stroke him gently, feeling him grow with each steady beat of his heart. He’s holding back the urge to take control when his hand wraps around your wrist that’s working him.
Feeling impatient yourself, you tug the pajama pants down his legs to free him from the restrictive clothing. Admittedly, it’s mostly so he can watch as you pump your hand slowly over his cock, and it’s no surprise to you how much he loves it. 
 He’s looking at how your hand looks around him, how big he looks in the grasp of your fingers. Something you’ve told him countless times of course, but he can’t help the grin when he sees it for himself. He’s making sure to burn the sight into memory for times when he can’t be with you. 
He just can’t decide to keep his eyes fixed on the mirror or simply to look down at what you’re doing. 
You? 
You’re looking at the defined lean muscles under the soft skin of his stomach that's cast in the soft lightening of your bathroom. You admire how his hip bones poke out just a little from his slender waist. It became your favorite thing to worship whenever your mouth finds its way down there.
You’re watching him flex with each unhurried pass of your hand, each subtle almost insignificant tremor that might go unnoticed otherwise. You watch in awe when the precum has started to leak and how the pink head of his cock shines when you swipe your thumb across it. 
“Mmm. I think you’re the pretty one, Josh,” you purr across the shell of his ear. 
He whimpers at the praise, parting his lips with each pitchy breath passing through them as his head rolls back against your shoulder. His eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in your loving touch. 
He knows what you’re doing but he’s too far gone to stop you. You concentrate on that extra sensitive spot under the head, swirling over with your fingers. 
“Oh.. fuck,” he growls, making the sound vibrate out from deep within his throat. 
The noise tells you he’s done letting you take the lead.
In a flash, you find yourself being picked up and shoved onto the bathroom sink. His hands hook around the band of your pajama shorts, ripping them down your legs so quickly that you wonder if they might have torn.
You’re barely given a second to think before he’s wedging himself between your legs with his cock in hand.  
You want him to fall to his knees and wrap his lips around your needy clit, like he would do in any other circumstance. This time, however, he doesn’t. 
He doesn’t think you deserve that tonight.
Instead, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, coating the digits in his spit to prepare you for what’s to come. 
They pass through your folds to add to the growing wetness, but not before rubbing a few teasing circles across your clit. 
He wasn’t going to be that cruel.
You lift your hips begging for more of his touch, searching for anything he’s willing to give. He graces you with it, but maybe not with what you were initially expecting. 
Josh doesn’t ease himself into you like he usually does. It’s not gentle and teasing. You've found that everything with him is always slow and so sensual. Deliberate and caring. 
This time he bottoms out into your pussy with one aggressive push.
For a few seconds, his lips press into that vulnerable spot below your ear as he waits until he can feel your nails rake down his back. That, along with your nod and how your legs are wrapping tightly around him to pull him deeper into you is all he needs to keep going.
His hips snap into you with a force you’re not really familiar with. You take it, greedy for whatever he is willing to give you. But now you’re missing his lips so you try to kiss him by pulling his face into yours, but they don’t stay there for long. 
Even his kisses are sloppier as he licks across your cheek. He presses his nose into the side of your face, fanning the tacky skin with strained breaths. Besides that, he’s rather silent with you. 
Which you know is very unlike him. 
Josh always talks to you. He’s always sure to tell you how good you feel, how much he loves you, and how much he wants to make you feel good. 
This is not the love-making you’re used to. He’s deciding to just fuck you tonight. Pure and simple. Hard and fast. 
Soon, other than the sounds of your own cries, you hear the smacking of your bodies together and the combined heaving pants echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom. 
You’re getting so, so close, but you can also tell he’s closer. His breathing is more ragged, and the rhythm of his hips have started to falter, and his fingers are pressing hard enough into your hip to leave small bruises. 
You worry that you won’t be able to finish before he does, “Josh..slow down. I’m so-so-“
The way he knocks the air from your lungs with each powerful thrust cuts your words off in the air. You can’t focus on anything because of your vision being whited out from his cock slamming relentlessly into your cervix. That’s how you know he isn’t going to slow down. He is past that point with no chance of return, but you are so desperate to chase after him. 
Again, you beg hoping he would listen this time, adding whatever coaxing tone was necessary, “Josh, baby. Please. I’m right there, slow down a little..”
He only smiles against your cheek. 
Fuck, you’re so close. It’s all within reach. Just a few more seconds. 
But he doesn’t give you satisfaction. He pulls himself from the tight warmth of your pussy for the grip of his hand. His timing is just right that he only needs a few more strokes. 
You can only watch in disbelief as he paints your neglected clit with ropes of his hot cum. The contrast of how warm it feels compared to the cold marble of the counter against your skin makes a chill roll through your body. 
The smirk growing on his face reveals to you that he’s proud of himself, proud that he’s denied you the release of your building climax. Pleased with the fact he hasn’t even given you the reward of finishing inside you. 
“What the fuck, Josh?!” You snap at him through the fucked out daze you’re in, letting your frustration get the better of you. 
His hand finds your throat to pull you in closer. Close enough to feel his breath fanning across your parted lips. You squeak at the firm pressure of his fingers wrapping almost painfully into the side of your neck. 
His other hand is still between your legs. Those fingers slide through the mess he created, only to fuck his cum into your pussy. You whine, clenching around him in need which makes him laugh from the desperation. 
With a precise curl of his finger inside you, his lips find your ear, and his voice like the finest crushed velvet of his jumpsuits when the whisper graces your senses, “Maybe this will be a good reminder next time you feel like breaking the rules, princess.” 
It leaves you speechless, void of any coherent thoughts that could be used for a response. 
He doesn’t say anything else as tucks himself back into his pants, and places a tender kiss to your cheek before walking out of the bathroom to crawl back into bed. 
——-
After the little stunt Josh pulled that night and the moment with Danny, things had been undoubtedly tense between you. You have settled on the fact that there wasn’t anger or resentment in that tension, it was just that he has been holding out on you all week, keeping you deprived and teetering on the edge. The kisses he gave never deepened, affectionate touches stayed innocent.
It was driving you absolutely mad. Sure, you could sneak off when you needed to for your own release, by your own hand. Alone. It had gotten to the point in your relationship that touching yourself would never compare. And he knew that. 
You had been craving, even dreaming of his hands roaming across your body, his mouth exploring all of his favorite places. 
Tonight you were hopeful that the dry spell would finally end. That the needed alone time together would be the solution to this growing problem, but the thought quickly dissipated the moment you find out that he invited the guys over for movie night.
He had done it on purpose. You were sure of it. 
You’re frustrated with Josh enough that you decide you don’t want to even sit next to him during the movies tonight. You aren’t sure what’s bothered you more, the fact he had been witholding sex or that he had been acting completely normal about it. 
Two can play this game of his. 
You ignore him to find a comfortable spot on the large sectional before the guys even arrive. You can hear Josh singing to himself in the other room, too busy making drinks and ordering food to notice you’re no longer sitting in ‘your spot’.
It isn’t ten minutes later when Sam, Jake and Danny arrive at your front door. It’s very on brand of them to make a loud entrance, calling out for your boyfriend as soon as they walk in. You stay seated on the couch, mostly because you don’t feel like getting up to greet them. It’s not out of the fact you didn’t want to see them, but rather you just wanted Josh’s attention for yourself. 
You hear Sam and Jake make their way into the kitchen by the sound of their voices traveling and echoing into the space. It’s followed by the muffled conversations, and you can only guess it’s about what drinks to make. You giggle to yourself, because it’s the only incentive for Sam to abandon a night out for sitting through one of Josh’s cinematic choices for the evening.
While you’re waiting for them to shuffle into the living room, you play on your phone to distract yourself. Daniel’s presence in your home is causing a new batch of nerves to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You’re staring at the screen, but your mind isn’t registering what is on it. 
You try to listen closely to what’s being said, but it’s almost impossible to make out the words. By the tone of Josh’s voice, it lets you know that he’s in good spirits despite the bickering between him and his brothers.
There is a creak of floodboard, making you lift your head to follow the new sound coming from your periphery. You startle when you see that it’s Danny standing in the doorway to your living room. 
He’s testing the waters. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the studio incident, and the memories of that moment flash before you. The intensity of his stare causes a hot, prickly blush to form across the apples of your cheeks. 
It’s different. The way he is looking at you tonight - as if it’s to say “there is no way we can stay ‘just friends’”. It makes your stomach flip but you can’t seem to make yourself pull away no matter how hard you try. There’s a wanton desire smoldering within the darkened irises that are hidden behind black brows, and it manages to pierce right through you.
Things have certainly changed since that night.
But it’s still Danny standing before you. He hasn’t lost that certain softness in those massive brown eyes that make you smile. 
You take note that he’s dressed comfortably tonight, wearing one of his worn band tees that fits his tall, lean frame perfectly. The dark, almost black denim wash of his jeans brings out the golden, sun-kissed tan that you’re thankful for; it's still lingering as you approach the autumn months. He’s wearing his hair down and the perfectly maintained curls bounce freely around his face. 
But fuck he looks so good.
He takes a step forward, finally making the move to pass through the threshold that he’s been cautiously standing behind for nearly a minute now. But before he can speak a single word, Sam is bursting into the living room. 
“So are you not gonna say hi to me or what?!” Sam huffs and he walks by Danny, nearly knocking into him as he does so. 
“And give up my perfectly warm spot? I don’t think so.” Although you’re being pulled into your quippy banter with the youngest Kiszka, your eye never leaves their best friend. 
“Oh I see what I mean to you then. At the bottom of the priorities list. I’ll remember that.”
You bring your eyes back to your phone to scroll through the app that’s still open on the screen, “I’m sure you will.”
Another voice breaks into the living room, passing by Sam, “Will you just leave the poor girl alone, Sam? She’s suffered enough dealing with your annoying ass.”
“Hi, Jake.” You smile at him as he finds a spot on one of the recliners. 
“Hi, Jake,” Sam mimics your voice with an exaggerated pitch, and Danny is quick to throw a punch into his arm. 
“Ouch!” Sam yelps as he rubs his muscle, turning to Danny, “What the fuck was that for?!”
“No fighting!” Josh scolds them. He is the last one to shuffle into the room with full arms of drinks and snacks. That’s when he sees you out of your usual spot, and he raises a brow to you out of curiosity. 
Over the course of the film, you nudge in closer to Danny so your back is pressed against his chest, tucking yourself into his side. 
You weren’t even trying to make Josh jealous, you just wanted to grab his attention. The plan is quickly backfiring because he is too absorbed with his eyes locked on the screen to even notice you. 
You’ve forgotten the title or plot of the movie Josh has picked because you can’t seem to pay attention to it even if you wanted to. All of your focus is on Danny’s quiet breathing; studying how calm and steady it is with each inhale and exhale. You fixate on the comforting, earthy scent of his cologne, the same one you recognize from the night spent together. You notice how warm his skin feels to the touch each time it brushes against yours whenever he shifts beside you. 
No one has really noticed nor cared that you’re cuddling up next to Danny instead of Josh. You’ve been known to show some level of affection to any of the guys, so this doesn’t really stand out of the ordinary to them. 
They just don’t know of the recent history between you two. 
You move incredibly slow beneath the cover of your blanket, careful not to bring any attention to yourself.
Well, the unwanted attention anyway. 
 At first, your touch is comforting as you feel yourself over your panties as you test it all out-  just to see how intune Josh really is to you. You watch him as you dare yourself a little more by moving your fingers under the material of your underwear, seeing if he would break away from the t.v. 
Before you can venture any further, or even give up the idea entirely, Danny’s hand wraps tightly around your wrist, halting your movements. 
Shit. Are you already caught?.
A blush forms at your cheeks. In the back of your head you knew he would probably be the one to notice even if he isn’t the main target of your attention.
“What are you doing? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble again,” he whispers harshly and you can feel his lips moving against the shell of your ear. 
You stay silent, worried that you would be caught by the others the second you mutter a single word. A few excruciatingly long seconds pass with you frozen like this. 
“I’ll get you there if you’re quiet,” he breathes, voice only loud enough for you to hear with his sweetness still lacing delicately throughout the words. 
You nod and he gently releases his hold on arm, but he doesn’t pull away from you. His fingertips travel farther down, dipping under the band of your sweatpants to trace along the bare skin of your thigh. It tickles you at first, but you’re already so tightly wound that the simple touch feels like a shock of static to the sensitive area, making you squirm against him. 
He squeezes his hand around the thickness of your leg, massaging the tense muscles with a kneading thumb. He finally retreats enough to dip between your legs and for a moment you swear you aren’t even breathing. 
If you were paying attention to anything else, you would have realized that Danny wasn’t either. He swallows the gasp that threatens to leave his mouth when he feels how warm you were. How you’ve already soaked through the cotton panties like that day spent together in the studio. He’s amazed that hasn’t even really touched you and you’re already falling apart like this. 
He considers teasing you some more, but decides against it. He wants to be the one to bring you relief you so desperately need. He’s determined to be the one to make you cum when Josh has been stringing it along for weeks. It’s a secret he’s kept from others, but feeling you again has been on his mind without reprieve.
It’s something he can’t shake from his thoughts no matter how many times he’s stroked himself alone in his bed at night in an attempt to get you out of his system. 
There is no way he would be able to hold out from touching you in a predicament like this.
He can barely contain his own sounds when he presses into your clit through the thin cotton. Your hips lift  without your control to chase the feeling. If he had all the time in the world, he would just keep himself there - playing with you for however long he wanted. 
Danny slides his hand beneath your panties and you nearly cry out when his finger finally dips into your arousal, parting your soft lips and coating the longest digit as he slips it through to circle your clit. He swallows back the groan when he feels how it’s already so swollen with need. You feel close enough that he could whisper the words that he wants to make you cum, and the heat of his breath fluttering across your pussy would unravel you completely. 
His cock throbs impatiently within the restriction of the tight jeans when he feels just how wet and warm you really are. 
He’s drawing deliciously slow patterns as he’s exploring you like this for the first time. Everything is so new to Danny. With Josh, he knows every inch of your body, almost too well sometimes. Danny is still learning, taking in each minute detail. 
He notices every faint change in your breathing with the different flicks of his finger, noting the ones that drive you the craziest. It’s becoming challenging to stay quiet, and you’re biting into your lips with each moan trying to escape whenever his fingers dip into your entrance.
Just when you think your moments away from breaking through the rising peak of your climax, he stops the movement of his fingers and buries them deep inside you. 
You claw at his hand beneath the blanket covering your legs, silently begging him to keep moving. You can’t see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he quickly shakes it away before anyone notices. 
You think you’ve gotten away with it so far. You’re confident in the fact that no one knows, but when your eyes finally open and refocus on the room you’re in- you are met with Josh’s eyes staring right back at you. 
Oh no. 
His eyes then flick over to his two brothers, seeing that they are still watching the film and not you. When they find their way back, you can’t decipher this look he is giving you. It’s knowing and intense -  but they are still playful even as they darken before you. 
Danny isn’t moving his fingers anymore, letting you know that he also sees Josh watching the both of you. He feels you clench and flutter around him as his stilled digits are locked tightly in the safe warmth of your pussy. 
This entire time Josh doesn’t make a sound. You almost question it but there’s no doubt he knows what’s happening. After a few long seconds of looking between you and Danny,  his gaze returns to the film played on the t.v. 
You try your best to watch the film on the screen, but your efforts are proving to be pointless. Every so often, Danny curls his fingers that are still inside you, sweeping them against your hidden spot with the perfect pressure. He even lets your own hips do the work as you lift and squirm to chase the friction. 
Each passing minute is time spent in blissful agony, keeping you suspended on a quivering tightrope. Each subtle movement is nearly imperceivable, but it’s just enough to tighten the familiar coil twisting in the pit of your belly. 
It feels like an eternity with how long it takes him to coax you along the slow build of your release. You cum just like this - with his fingers tucked deep inside you. 
It’s the first time he’s really felt you ravaged by the intensity of your orgasm, one that you weren’t even expecting yourself, and god he wishes to himself that he could feel it on his cock. He can barely contain himself behind you as you roll through each crashing wave. 
He chooses not to pull them from you as you begin to come down. You wiggle your legs slightly because of the sensitivity of them staying there, but he remains still.
You really aren’t even sure how much time passes from that moment. To you, the scenes of the movie are just bright blurry images flashing in front of your fogged mind. Josh started talking about something related to the film, but you can’t find the strength to make out the words. 
Sam is starting to get annoyed with Josh’s rambling about the film as the ending credits begin to roll. He looks over his shoulder to see you, but is immediately stunned by the sight.
His mouth falls open in concern and stands up, “Oh wow! Y/N, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”
Danny then scissors his fingers inside you. 
You croak out a broken whine and then stumble over a response, clenching your thighs around his hand, ‘Hu-huh?”
“Do you have a fever or something?” Sam asks as he starts to walk towards you, but you scramble to interrupt him before he gets too close.
“Uhhh…maybe. I think it’s hitting me all of a sudden,” you respond, putting on your best sick act. 
“Maybe you should go lie down upstairs, babe,” Josh suggests in a sickeningly sweet tone in a display of concern, but the glint in his eyes reveals something else. 
Jake is the one to pick up on the strange tension as his eyes find his twin’s. You watch as an outsider as they exchange a conversation in silence, just as they do time and time again. Jake’s eyes shift between Josh to Danny and then back to you before landing on Josh’s once again. Your cheeks flushes even hotter with embarrassment because you are sure he has picked up on whatever is going on. 
He stands to his feet, letting out a grovely sigh as he smooths out the wrinkles of his worn pants, “Alright, Sammy boy. I think it’s time to head to the bars before it gets too late.”
Sam groans in protest when pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time lit up across the screen, “It’s only 9:30!”
Jake is already out of the living room when he calls back to his younger brother, “Come on, Sam.”
“Okay, okay!” He rolls his eyes and stomps out of the room, throwing his hands up in the air as he follows his older brother. 
As soon as the door latches shut behind Jake, Josh turns back towards you and Danny. His eyes flick down to the blanket and his voice is taut, like a tightly wound string as it shoots through the air, “What do you think you’re doing?”
You do your best to put on that extra syrupy, saccharine sweet voice of yours to win him over, knowing that you were without a doubt - very much in trouble. 
“You said we couldn’t do anything if you weren’t here. And it looks like you’re here to me, Joshy.”
Danny snickers into your hair in response to your brattiness, and you throw an elbow back into his stomach to cut him off.  
Josh’s cold, expressionless face doesn’t change, “You’re just like her, Daniel. And you spoil her.” Despite the icy stare, the words are heated as they leave his mouth. “Go ahead then. Keep treating her as sweet as she acts, and move the fucking blanket.”
You obey the command with cautious movements, and slowly kick the throw off your legs with Danny’s fingers still buried deep inside you. He watches your every movement, and when the blanket falls to the ground - his eyes are back to yours. 
You swear you see the tiniest grin start to show when he sees that Danny is still touching you, taking care of you. He’s still enjoying himself, and you know this by that little tell of his - the way he rubs his fingers methodically around his knee and picks at the threads of the pant seams. It’s something that you would never admit that you know. 
He’s trying so hard to keep up the facade of being upset with you, and you have to give it to him - he was doing a wonderful job. But you decide to up the stakes, and loop your fingers around the waistband to slowly pull them down your legs. 
You’ve taken your soaked underwear with them as well, revealing everything out to him. A giggle leaves you when you see his mouth fall open at the sight. 
Danny takes the chance to slowly pump his wet fingers in and out of you for show. After all this time tucked inside, he finally pulls them from your pussy to spread you apart for your waiting boyfriend. Josh nearly drops this act he’s been putting up with so he can come running to you, but he holds strong in his place on the other end of the couch. 
What he can’t do is keep his focus on your eyes. They become fixed on Danny’s fingers, and they stay there for longer than you expect as if he has been stuck hopelessly in a trance. 
Danny stays silent as he is shamelessly showing off, prideful of what he has done to you this evening. They are both busy listening to the soft sounds that escape your lips with each pass of Danny’s fingers over your over-sensitive clit. 
“Well, someone has to. You’d think she would have a boyfriend that’s generous enough to take care of her. What did you say again? ‘I love to take care of my baby.'' Those were your words, right?”
That’s what makes Josh shoot up from his seat and saunter over to you in a few strides. He would usually extend a hand and wait for you to take it, but this time he grabs it without warning and pulls you to your feet - ripping you away from Danny’s hold as if to say “You have enough time playing with my girl.”
You yelp from the sudden action as you are yanked into Josh’s arms. 
With a grip around your throat, Josh finds your mouth with his own and shoves his tongue past your lips without giving you a second to process any of it. Kissing Josh was always a slow building dance, a gentle give-and-take of who would lead. Right now, it’s quite the opposite in this unbridled hunger for you. 
He bites at your lip, sinking his perfect teeth into the soft flesh before pushing his tongue against yours. 
Your shirt is yanked from your body and thrown somewhere onto the floor in the midst of it all. Josh’s hands are gripping and clawing at your ass, roaming across your back and around the nape of your neck. It’s all in front of Danny, who is still sitting behind you, all to make the point to show him who you really belonged to. 
Danny knows better than to complain.
Josh eventually guides you back, but you’ve been so disoriented in the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, that you’re forgotten your place in the living room. You give him your blind trust as you stumble backwards until you feel the edge of the couch against the back of your knees. 
He shoves you down onto the open chaise end of the sectional with a deliberate push to your chest that makes you giggle. You’re loving that he is taking charge and is a little more aggressive with you, which is definitely the side of him you are experiencing tonight. 
Josh pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere into the room to add to the mess of clothes collecting on the floor already. 
You can feel Danny sitting by your head, and you tilt your head back to get a better look of him. 
Before you can really get to see or say anything to him, Josh rolls your nipple into the heat of his mouth. The addicting feeling of him is sending your senses into overdrive already.
 God, you’ve missed this so much. 
He licks across your bare, flushed and warm chest, dragging his teeth behind the trails his wet tongue leaves along your skin. You squirm and lift your hips helplessly beneath him. 
Josh’s teasing laugh that hums low in his throat flutters from his lips that are pressing against your ear, causing you to shudder instantly as he taunts you, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already acting like this? Maybe Danny didn’t take care of you as much as he thinks.”
You hear Danny scoff of disagreement above you. 
Josh’s middle finger travels from the hollow point of your throat, between your breasts, down and over your navel to dip between your legs. He releases a groan when he feels you for himself, “or maybe you’re just being extra greedy tonight.”
The tiniest whimper squeaks out, “Josh…”
“What’s the matter, baby?” He mumbles into your throat. 
You beg with a forceful roll of your hips up into his hand, “I need you, please.”
His warm breath clings right to your skin just as he ghosts his finger from your entrance to your clit,“You want me to take care of you too, don’t you?”
“Yes! Josh, I need to feel your mouth! Please!” You suddenly shout the frustrated plea into the open space. 
He growls into the nape of your neck at the sound of his name, feeling rather possessive as he sinks his teeth into your throat, “Fuck, you sound so gorgeous when you beg for me.”
Danny is showing how restless he is with how his legs start to shift and fidget more and more with each passing second. The movement reminds you of his presence you nearly forgot about with Josh on top of you like this. You reach behind to feel your way to the button of his jeans, but he’s so hard and impatient that he can’t wait for you to pop it open. 
He takes the moment of control by quickly undoing his pants to pull his cock out from the pant leg where it’s been tucked away for nearly an hour now. He takes your hand with his fingers gently wrapped around, and guides it towards his erection. 
The skin is silken soft as your fingers brush along the length, and within seconds you feel him add his own spit collected on his fingers to use as lube - making your hand glide along him in languid strokes behind your head, and the sounds of his moans soon follow. 
You can’t see it, but you whimper out from having the weight of him in your grasp again. You close your eyes, picturing behind your lids of what it looks like, how it feels in your mouth, how the size of it stretches you out. 
You want to put every ounce of your attention to make him feel good - to make him feel close to anything you’ve been experiencing tonight -  but once Josh starts to place careful kisses on your clit - that idea is quickly thrown out from your conscience. 
You clench in need after each brush of his lips on you. He watches you, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, loving how your breasts move as you take in those shaky breaths to ground yourself. 
He is more than aware of how sensitive you are, and makes sure to ease you into the addition of his mouth slowly. Each kiss lasts just a touch longer as he admires your pussy before his tongue graces you finally. It’s a barely-there flick when it teases you, so faint that you question if it really happened. 
You don’t wonder for long before he adds a little more pressure, making a loud moan echo throughout the large room.  You feel the smile form against you when he hears it, and you fight the temptation to squeeze the cocky bastard’s head between your legs.
The work of your hand on Danny is lazy and unfocused, and it’s not because you aren’t trying. He doesn’t seem to care, because just the feeling of your fingers around him and seeing you like this is enough to nearly send him over the edge. 
Josh guides your vulnerable little clit into the warmth of his mouth, taking his time to treat it just right as he suckles it just the way you love. Like this time is no different than the many nights spent together where he insists on making you cum over and over with his head buried between your legs with no end in sight. 
If you weren’t such a writhing mess, you would have seen Josh making eye contact with Danny as he licked across your dripping cunt with those teasingly slow stripes of his pointed tongue. 
You buck up from the sensation and your head lands across Danny’s thigh. He giggles quietly and leans down to you, letting the rasp of his voice fan across your ear, “Go ahead and tell him how you’ve been imagining my mouth on your pretty pussy.”
Josh takes this as a new challenge and changes everything that he’s doing in an instant without bothering to ease you in first. He’s now devouring you like you are his last meal he will ever taste and consume.
You’re getting so close. Josh’s frenzied laps of a flattened tongue as he dips his fingers inside of you is enough to hurl into the next crashing wave of another orgasm. 
You see a splotchy array of colors flashing behind your closed lids. It’s a weightless, out-of-body feeling as you are pulled under by the velvet-softness of Josh’s tongue. All sounds are being muffled out, but you can bet that you’re probably crying out in pleasure. 
Danny adds a final touch with a roll of your nipple between his thumb and finger after giving your breasts a squeeze in the large palm hand.
It wasn’t on purpose, but you’ve let go of Danny cock. He more focused on helping to ground you to them by letting you claw at his forearm while your other hand nearly rips Josh’s hair out by the roots. 
He fights through the pain of it with satisfied growls that vibrate through you with the pads of his fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs. He makes sure to return the favor by licking unapologetically over your overstimulated clit, causing your legs to shake violently around him. 
Josh retreats from you and stands to his feet, but doesn’t bother to wipe his mouth and face that is glistening in your shared wetness. You’re still distracted enough with trying to recover from your orgasm that you don’t realize that he had made his way back over to Danny. 
Your boyfriend stands before him and leans in, placing a hand to the back of the couch behind Danny’s shoulder. He is a little startled by the action and stiffens his body, not sure what Josh is planning to do next. 
Your boyfriend takes Danny by the chin and places a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste at first, but as he tastes you that was left on his lips, he yearns for a bit more. Josh feels generous and is more than willing to give in, deepening the next kiss. 
You’re dragged into a clearer state of consciousness when you feel a hand pull yours that has been holding Danny’s cock. You rush to sit up in confusion only to see Josh has replaced yours with his own. Danny is frozen and speechless as watches in disbelief, along with you, as Josh starts to stroke him. 
You’re quick to note that it isn’t even a technique that Josh would use on himself. It’s teasing and experimental, light but deliberate with each pump of his fist. Each twist of his wrist, the passing of his fingers over the head of Danny’s cock causes a pathetic whimper to push past his lips.
Your body doesn’t even feel like it belongs to you anymore with how much you’re struggling to bring your fatigued limbs in to sit up onto your knees. You reach forward but Josh interrupts you before your hand can touch him. 
“Sit, baby,” he instructs. 
You scoff and you slump back on your ass, pouting in disappointment that you’re not being included in whatever this was. 
“What’s the matter? Mad that I’m playing with your toy?” He mocks you, sticking his lip out in a pout that mimics your own. He emphases the words with a taunting squeeze of his hand around the tip, making Danny throw his head back so thick mane of curls cascade over his shoulders and the back of the couch.
He’s falling apart in your boyfriend’s hand and you can do nothing but be obedient and watch.
He sinks a knee onto the seat cushion beside Danny’s leg so he can lean in a tad further. When he’s close enough - close enough for Danny to catch the notes of Josh’s cologne - his tongue licks a long stripe across his jawline, causing a low moan to rumble deep in his chest. Josh doesn’t stop moving his hand as creates a trail of open-mouth kisses towards Danny’s ear.
He’s teasing him, pushing him just close enough to the cliff’s edge while making sure to pull back just enough to keep him suspended in this limbo.
“Fuck, Josh…” Danny whines, clawing at the upholstery of the couch with the dull edge of his nails. 
Josh bites at Danny’s jaw which sends a sharp hiss through his clenched teeth. Josh pulls back enough to look directly into his large, doe eyes, and says, “You don’t think I can make you feel as good as she does?” 
His voice is dripping with that cockiness you love so much. 
He doesn’t allow Danny the time needed to form a response. In a flash of a second, his tongue flicks across Danny’s upper lip, drawing him in. You’re stunned into silence as you witness your boyfriend slip his tongue into your friend’s parted mouth. 
You can tell that Danny’s still a little hesitant at first, but it doesn’t take him long before he melts completely into the kiss. Instead of losing himself, he starts the fight for dominance. With a pass of his tongue and a hand around Josh’s neck to pull him in, it’s enough to make your boyfriend moan back and fall forward a few inches. 
Danny is finding his confidence again, and breaks away, donning a playful smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”
Josh looks down at him through his lashes, biting his lip between his teeth. Showing you that he’s willing to play into Danny’s taunt by switching up the movements of his hand - but not before he leans back and lets a bead of drool fall from his mouth onto Danny’s waiting cock. 
It shines in the dim lighting as Josh spreads the added wetness from tip to base, causing a violent shudder to roll through Danny’s body.
With his brows pulled together in concentration and lips parted, his hips lift up with each stroke of Josh’s hand in a desperate chase for more. You’re struggling internally beside them without being able to touch or have him in your mouth yourself. 
This is Josh’s version of a twisted punishment wrapped up like a nice little present. 
You remember all of Danny’s tells from that night. Everything is giving him away - from the raggedness of his uneven breaths, to the little whimpers and groans breaking from his chest, and especially with the way he can’t sit still as Josh hovers over him. 
It can’t be over so soon. Josh wouldn’t let that happen just yet. 
A pitchy whine breaks free as Danny grabs Josh’s wrist, but he doesn’t stop him. 
“Don’t act so surprised,” Josh croons smugly as he grabs Danny’s chin in his hand, and the sound makes you clench your thighs together in need. He leans in to whisper into Danny’s ear, “I took notes,” just as he bites his earlobe.
Just as Danny feels himself venture near his orgasm, Josh pulls his hand away, making a breathy laugh rasp loudly from your friend’s chest. He throws his hands up into his hair in frustration, pulling it away from his sweat-dampened forehead. 
Josh chuckles proudly to himself as stands and offers a hand to you, “We don’t want to steal all the fun from our sweet girl, do we?”
You take it and he helps you off the couch and down to your knees in front of him. The greediness that you’ve been pushing down starts to overtake you. He sweeps the hair from your face, holding his hand at the crown of your head while you work to unbutton his pants. That’s when you notice the small patch of wetted fabric on his right thigh.
He’s so deliciously hard that you’re sure it’s almost painful for him to keep it hidden away for this long like he has. You’re imagining that slight salty taste of the precum that has leaked from his cock when you palm over the dampness, purposefully avoiding the throbbing erection that so desperately needs your attention. 
You graze your hands down the length of his legs and up again as you hum, teasing him, “Someone got a little excited.”
He tugs the hair from your scalp, and warns with a harsh clip of his teeth, “Watch it.”
You look at him, batting your lashes while listening closely to Danny’s heavy breathing behind you. He smiles at you for a second, but quickly follows with a push of your head towards him. 
You loop your fingers around the waistband of his pants and pull down, and you’re welcomed with the fact he’s not wearing any underwear. 
Would you expect anything different?
He groans through a heavy sigh as soon as your fingers wrap around him. You stroke him oh-so-gently, ghosting over his cock with your lips to place a kiss to the inner point of his hip. 
You’ve missed this so much. 
You lick and suck on the delicate skin, admiring across his lean stomach. The kisses tickle him as they are placed between his hips, making him squirm until you nip a collection of marks with your teeth. 
Josh always wants you to tease him. It’s his favorite game to play, but right now he needs to feel your mouth around him. He’s been holding out for far too long; he has convinced himself he has forgotten what it’s like.
Of course he wouldn’t forget. There was nothing that could ever come close in comparison. 
He bucks his hips forward, and clamps his eyes shut while releasing a low growl with a new air of dominance, “Suck it. Don’t keep me waiting.”
You smirk to yourself, but obey the demand by bringing his cock to your open lips. You give a few teasing kisses just for good measure before you lick around right at the spot where the tanned skin of his shaft meets the rosy pink tip. He’s been keeping himself rather silent until you take him into your mouth to swirl your tongue around the head. 
You pull him from your mouth with a satisfied pop! You giggle as you pump your fist around him, “Like that?”
He looks down at you through half-closed lids with that crooked smile, “Fuck... you’re such a brat.”
In the past, he would have let you take control, giving you all the time in the world to make him feel good at your own pace. But tonight he is impatient with you given all the rules you’ve broken. Once you have him back in your mouth, he pushes himself into the back of your throat in one powerful thrust with his hands tangled into your hair. 
You gag around him, but you keep him there nestled deep where he belongs. 
“Jesus Christ, Josh!” You hear Danny blurt out behind you. 
Josh is quick to answer, nearly breathless already, “She’s fine, isn’t she?” He taps your cheek with his fingers along with the question, confident you would stop him in a second if things got too much for you. 
You nod with him still in your mouth and you start to bob your head slowly to build up your rhythm. He turns the two of you enough to give Danny the perfect view. 
Just to show him what you can handle. 
The first time this little arrangement happened, he had blessed Danny by sitting back and letting you take care of his best friend, but now it was his turn.
Now this is the punishment - to remember that moment and have it so close in his grasp but still not being able to have it. Danny wraps his hand around himself to satiate the need, imagining every little detail from that night as he watches you on your knees. 
You can’t look to see what he’s doing because of the tears that have started to cloud your vision and wet your lashes. You’re stuck trying to imagine what's happening by listening to him, but you’re finding it’s too hard with your own sounds masking over him. . 
Meanwhile as he towers above you, Josh is fighting the overwhelming urge to just fuck your face, and he’s starting to lose that battle.
With his hands wound tightly into the tresses of your hair, the thrusts become more aggressive as he slams himself into the back of your throat. 
And just like the good girl you are, you take him. 
But your jaw is aching, and drool has started to drip freely from the corners of your mouth down to your chin. Your lungs are burning, silently screaming in a frantic need for a real breath that you’ve been denied.
He releases the grip on you just in time before you have to tap his leg.
He still groans in protest when you have to pull yourself off of him to catch your breath, but you’re still connected to him through the thin string of saliva starting from your lips. You bring your fingers up to wipe your mouth, and decide to mutter the praise that you know always makes him weak, “You’re just so big, Joshy.”
He would deny later how his knees nearly buckled under him when he heard those words. You lean back on your heels to look up at him to see that smirk you knew would be there. 
You’ve won him over. You can see it with the special glint in his eye and with the way he rakes in his bottom lip. 
He taps your lips with the tip of his cock that is still slick from your mouth against your lips, and he breathes, “Yeah? You think so?”
You reply only with an eager nod. 
“Don’t tell me you’re calling it quits now, princess.”
You shake your head and utter a faint, “No.” 
He rolls his hips forward, sliding himself along your flattened tongue once your mouth opens again, “Mmm, that’s my good girl.”
Josh quickly finds a rhythm he’s satisfied with. Danny can no longer sit back and just watch the two of you. He tests another boundary by grazing his hand across your shoulders to sweep away the hair that  has fallen out of Josh’s grasp.
Seeing this, Josh releases all for him to hold. To have both of their hands on you like this is threatening to distract you entirely. 
Josh doesn’t stop there. He places his hand over Danny’s, the one that’s keeping the hair from your face in a makeshift ponytail. The resistance of it lets him push into the back of your throat just a little deeper. 
You’ve broken so many rules tonight that you just want to redeem yourself to him; to fight back the limitations of your body. You couldn’t possibly survive another week if he holds out on you again, but you’re being pushed to the very brink as the seconds tick on  by. 
He lets go of Danny's hand, and the tips of his fingers graze beneath your chin, lifting your face with a caring nudge so you’re no longer treating him to the pleasure of your mouth. The pad of his thumb rubs across your swollen, wet bottom lip as he looks down at you in admiration. 
Josh bends down and takes your hands in his to bring you up to your feet, supporting you as you balance yourself on your shaky legs. You wince from the soreness coming from your knees that you have been able to ignore until now.  
You’re a little out of it still as you catch your breath, but he turns you to face away from him. He brushes the hair from your shoulder to place hot kisses along the bare skin and you catch the sight of Danny still seated on the couch.
It’s really the first time you have looked into each other’s eyes since he first walked into the living room tonight. The deep coffee-colored irises are carrying the same look of desire and longing, but now with the new touches of jealousy that wasn’t quite there before. 
Josh sits on the couch with his hands still placed around your waist. He kisses the small of your back before leading you onto his lap, taking the time you need to find the right position. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he takes his other hand to his cock that’s pressing up between your legs. 
You brace yourself as he coats the head through your slick, and he slips effortlessly through your folds. He pushes himself to your entrance, letting you take the control of lowering yourself onto him.
Josh pushes himself to the hilt, earning a sinful cry from you. It’s been a long time since he has felt this, too. So with the way your mouth made him feel with how your walls are wrapping tightly around him, he can’t help the pitchy whine that breaks free. 
Danny finally stands to his feet and starts to undress in front of you. He reaches above and takes a handful of his t-shirt from between his shoulder blades to pull it over his head in one swift motion. He takes another step forward and brings his hands to the band of his jeans, and whips out the belt from the loops and tosses it across the floor. This whole time his cock is still out in the open with the zipper of his pants pulled down. 
He kicks his boxers and jeans off just as he stands before you. You reach out to him, taking a hold of his hip to bring him in closer. With your open hand you feel across his stomach that’s twitching under your palm. You pet over each dip and rise of his ribs as he takes in steadying breaths, traveling to the trail of coarse, dark  hair leading from his navel down. 
He leans down to kiss you and you are able to taste yourself on his soft lips. He is much gentler than Josh was with you as he teases the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip. You welcome him the second you feel it, taking the role of being the greedy one. 
Josh’s fingers nudge into your jaw so you break away thinking that he was wanting to kiss you but he didn’t. To your surprise, you weren’t pulled away from Danny for that reason. 
You thought he was going to kiss you but instead, he pulls in Danny from the back of his neck. It takes Danny off guard as well, but he welcomes it. 
Josh purrs in pleasure, breaking the kiss, “She tastes sweeter on your lips.”
Danny whines on Josh’s full lips and mumbles a desperate plea, “Please…can I feel her too? Please, Josh?”
A grin spreads across Josh’s mouth when he realizes he has Danny right where he wants him, “She is addicting, isn’t she?”  
Danny can’t help but let out a pitiful whimper in response. 
Josh caresses Danny’s cheek with a sweep of his knuckles, “You’re just as pretty as she is when you beg.”
Danny takes that as permission and bends down to wrap his hands around your thighs and lifts you up in a fluid
motion, bringing you around his waist. You instantly lock yourself around him in fear that you might fall, but you feel secure once Danny has a stronger hold on you. 
You remember this feeling, being in his arms again. However, the last time you didn’t feel his cock pressing up against you like it is now. He’s waited long enough to have you that he doesn’t waste the time to tease you before lining himself with your pussy. 
You think for a second to brace again  for it when you feel the head slide effortlessly back and forth through your folds, but the feeling of his lips attaching himself to your skin as he buries his face into your neck takes all your focus. You’re still so wet, and now that you’ve been stretched out by Josh - he slips right in without much resistance. 
At least he does at first until you’re greeted with the familiar sting of him bottoming out. You do your best to lift your hips while he tries to thrust up, but it proves to be useless. It takes all your strength just to hold onto his shoulders and keep your legs locked tightly around his back. 
He walks back towards the couch, staggering a step or two but manages to carry you far enough to lay you across the cushions. You melt into the furniture, embracing the new comfort of his weight of his body laying on top of you. 
He takes a second to find the right angle with his legs nudging underneath your thighs, but soon enough his hips begin rocking into you. The intoxicating warmth of his cock filling you up takes you over and your legs wrap around his waist once more to pull him even deeper. Your hand finds a place around the bicep of the arm that’s holding above you and you feel the muscle flex with each thrust. 
He’s measured with his movements, but you’re not sure if it’s because he’s already so close or if it’s because he wants to be careful with you - or that it's a combination of the two. 
You glance up to watch his face. You want to take in how his brows are sewn tightly together in concentration, causing a little crease between them. You bask in his pants sending warm puffs of air past his lips onto your skin. 
It’s like he’s forgotten about everything else but just you. Just the feeling and embrace of you. 
Josh is quick to remind him that it isn’t just the two of you. His presence is felt as he walks up from behind you, and you search for him with an open hand above your head until you feel his bare stomach. 
Your knuckles drag along the skin, making him release a pleased sigh. “You miss me?”
Danny sits up, disconnecting your legs around his back so he can lift you up farther onto his lap. He curses under his breath at the new angle, captivated with the way you’re lying beneath him. 
 Josh sees the admiration in his friend’s eyes for you. “You should see yourself, baby,” he praises and by the raised pitch of his voice, you can hear that he’s getting close.
 “You really are fucking gorgeous taking us like this,” Danny agrees, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit.
The strokes of your hand on Josh are listless and uneven. He takes over for you, pumping his first over his cock with an expert hand. It doesn’t take much before he finds himself in the throws of his release.
He curses under his breath with a final thrust through his hand, “Holy shit.” 
At first you flinch the spurts of his hot cum covers across your naked breasts, but only for a second as you welcome the reward. 
Danny falls forward into you, and you’re startled by the feeling of his tongue licking across your hardened nipple, tasting the mess that is left there. It yanks you from your daze to see Josh holding back Danny’s hair from his face. 
You can’t even begin to form a thought from what you experience before he swipes his finger across your other breast and brings it to your mouth. You take it in without question, licking the familiar taste of Josh on your tongue, sucking around his finger as much as you can. 
Danny’s eyes roll back from the sensation of your mouth as he loses the last shred of control he might have been holding on to. He’s not paying attention to rules, to the arrangement, to any of the boundaries that may or may not be in place. 
He’s accepting the fact he’s falling apart while deep inside you. He forgets he needed to pull out. That he should finish on your stomach or even your chest to mix with what Josh has left. 
But he doesn’t. 
In a second before either one of you could react, he releases inside your soaked cunt, filling you up with the warmth of his cum in a couple staggered thrusts of his hips. 
That was not the plan.
For what seems like hours, the three of you sit in silence as you collectively come down from the height of your pleasure. You are overcome with the feeling of Danny’s release starting to leak from you in addition to what’s been left across your chest. Danny hasn’t looked at either of you, opting to keep his head down as he regains his composure. 
He withdraws from you and you know he's processing what just happened because that’s where your own mind is at. With the stiff, rigidness of his body, it’s obvious that he’s nervous to look up at Josh. 
He finally speaks to break the silence, but stutters over the apology, “Josh, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I know she’s yours and, b-but I just couldn’t-“
Josh cuts him off with his fingertips brushing across Danny’s cheek to shush him. “‘Shhh.”
Danny looks up at him wearing a face or confusion from the reaction. 
Josh lets out a fucked-out giggle and sighs, “I think it’s safe to say that she might be yours now, too.”
TAGLIST:
@josiee-gvf @gabyvanfleet @ageofbrokenbells @maddie-van-fleet @gretasmokerising @prophetofthedune @gardensgatedaisy @lek-gvf @baguettejuliette @ashabeannn @daniellefersblog @seventieswhore @lo-pe-ak @sammiejane22 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @pr41sethemoon @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanfleas @freckled-wonder @gvfrry @myownparadise96 @jordierama @mywaykiszka @jmksbuttsupremacy @weightofdreamz @maverick-rose @brokenbellz @jakekiszmyass @milkgemini @sarakay-gvf @idk-anymore50 @kels-gvf @strangersimp @richjaaasss @greta-van-chaos @shesawomaninadream @joshkiszkashikingboots @brinlygvf @alexxavicry @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @sammyslappers @lvnterninthenight @josh-iamyour-mama @ksmiz711 @garbagevanfleet
If you would like to be removed for the taglist, please send me a message. If you are interested in joining, please fill out the form here!
362 notes · View notes
fruitcoops · 6 months
Text
Slowburn
Tumblr media
Fic O'Ween Day 12: Goosebumps, with part five of the firefighter/ EMT AU! Coops, Leo, and Layla belong to @lumosinlove, fest header belong to @noots-fic-fests!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
TW extremely brief mention of bodily fluids (one sentence at the beginning)
Five hours and forty-four minutes. He had been bled on, puked on, grabbed, yelled at, and nearly toppled. His only spare pair of pants was now bound up in a plastic bag. Miracle of miracles, Sirius’ shirt was the only thing that hadn’t been damaged in the miserable afternoon. It made a great undershirt. It would also need to be washed at least four times before he could even dream of returning it.
Layla stared at a spot above his shoulder in the opposite jumpseat. One side of her eyeliner had been completely smudged away; the other, smeared sideways to her temple in a smoky trail.
“Nice job today.”
“Thanks.”
“That was a lot.” Layla nodded mutely. His heart pulled for her, a little bit. Even if their cases had been run-of-the-mill, nearly six hours of back-to-back calls would wear anyone down. He nudged the tip of her shoe with his own. “You’re learning fast. I saw some good work out there.”
“I’m…” She blinked slowly, then shook her head. “Wow, I think I fell asleep sitting up for a minute.”
“It happens.” In time, she’d learn to sleep wherever she could catch it. “When does your shift end?”
“Seven.”
“Almost done, then.”
“Mmm.”
The ambulance went over a bump, rattling the near-empty shelves and bashing Remus’ tailbone against the back ledge. “Sorry!” Leo called through the small window to the cab.
He had mostly given up hope that he’d see Sirius in the next twelve hours. His shift wasn’t over until midnight, and Sirius’ started at six the next morning. If he made time between his dentist appointment and calling his parents, he might be able to stop by in the afternoon, but it would be a stretch if he wanted to get any laundry done. And, Christ, that was a chore he couldn’t delay for another week. He liked those pants. More importantly, he now knew just how much Sirius liked them.
Something stirred in his belly at the thought. Warm hands cupping his ass and sliding over his flanks with astonishing care. Sirius had felt him up enough that he could probably make a Model Magic version of Remus’ body on touch alone—and wasn’t that a thing to picture. Somewhere between rounds two and three, Remus remembered kissing the backs of Sirius’ thighs. Pale skin and dark hair above the bare, sensitive bend of his knees. They slotted so well in his palms. Sirius had looked like glory itself when he peeked over his shoulder to look.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Remus jumped. “What? Nothing. Sorry, nothing, why?”
“You’re all frowny.”
Thank god for that. “Just…the day.”
A vague and reliable excuse. Layla snorted. “Tell me about it.”
There will never be a day when I tell you about this. Remus hoped his laugh didn’t come out too strained. “Seriously.”
They took the next turn a little wider, sending their final two ointment boxes sliding out of place. He fixed them blindly while the city center rolled past through the back windows. Did Sirius still have scratch marks on his upper thighs?
Another bump knocked the thought from his head. “We’re home,” Leo singsonged from the driver’s seat. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the showers, wondering why I chose this life path.”
“Mood,” Layla mumbled.
“I’m also Grubhubbing a sundae, and you can’t stop me.”
One of the last functioning neurons in Remus’ head lit up. “Get me one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Get your own.”
“I’m your boss.”
“You make more money than me.”
“Yes, let me flaunt my extra fifty cents an hour,” he countered dryly. “Every night, I rub my quarters together, just to flex on you. That beautiful sound of a handful of nickels.”
“…I’ll see what they have.”
“Good rookie.”
He didn’t wait for the ambulance to stop before opening the doors. The familiar ka-chunk of the lock coming free was music to his ears—a sweet, sweet anthem of freedom, the promise of a lukewarm cup of coffee and a maybe-stale donut from the break room.
And Sirius.
Sirius, sitting on one of his packed and labeled inventory bins.
Remus stared.
“Remus?”
“Go ahead,” he said absently. “I’ll catch up.”
Layla hopped out with a groan. Six hours was a long time to be up and down. Remus was sure his feet would ache the same when he stood. If he stood. Sirius’ hair stuck up at the back, like he’d been running his hands through it.
Remus loved when he did that.
He just. He really did like him, quite a lot.
Keep me.
What had he been thinking? Six hours was a long time to wait. He had told Sirius he’d be right back. It was his day off; why hadn’t he left after it was clear Remus wouldn’t return?
He supposed he could ask the same question about that morning. God, could it really only have been a few hours since he felt Sirius’ bare chest against his own? They had practically been spooning with how tight they were tangled in each other when he woke. Remus hardly remembered falling asleep, only aware of the pleasant ache in his muscles and the humming pleasure in his belly. Pure satisfaction. Pure comfort, at having Sirius hold him like more than a friend.
He watched Leo wander off. Sirius didn’t seem to have noticed. He didn’t so much as flinch when Remus stumbled off the rig and beelined for him, not until Remus stopped in front of him, unsure what to say. I want you I like you I’m sorry please kiss me again, I still get goosebumps thinking about the way your mouth tastes with adrenaline.
Sirius blinked up at him, full lips and glossy lashes. His bone structure was fucking criminal. “You’re back,” he said, so soft and sweet and genuinely happy that Remus’ stomach flopped over itself. Sirius stood, tucking his phone into his pocket without a second glance at it. He was just—big. And tall. And gorgeous. Remus now knew precisely how solid his chest was, and how nice it was to kiss. “Did you have a good day?”
Remus stepped forward and planted his face directly into that chest.
“Oh,” Sirius laughed. It vibrated against his forehead; he closed his eyes. Arms came up around him, hands settling at his nape and the small of his back. He knew he smelled awful. Sirius didn’t seem to care as a tentative kiss nestled on the top of his head and melted Remus’ insides out his throbbing feet.
He sighed. Sirius smelled all warm and spicy. Detergent, cologne, or simply the way he was? Remus couldn’t wait to find out. “This is nice.”
“Yeah.” The delight was back. Sirius pushed the breath from his lungs on a squeeze. “Yeah, it is. I like this.”
“I’m gonna kiss you,” Remus mumbled. “Gonna kiss you so good. Just…two seconds.”
“You can kiss me whenever you want.”
“Two seconds.” It was so dark in his new haven. Sirius’ lungs moved calmly, steadily. His heart rate was a little fast, but nothing to worry about. Remus let his ears go foggy and pressed closer, nuzzling into the space between his collarbones.
Sirius kissed the top of his head again, less hesitant this time, before resting his chin there. “Long day?” he asked after several seconds. Remus hummed. “Sounded like you guys didn’t get much of a break.”
“Mhmm.” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his cheek over Sirius’ sternum. He couldn’t count the number of times they had sat together on the couch or at the table or in the window seat, legs intertwined while they worked through their days. Separate snacks at first, then a single bowl to share once they knew each other’s favorites. It had been nice, to have someone there. Someone to talk to, someone to listen, someone who understood.
But this…this was so much better.
Sirius’ thumb stroked a short path along his spine. It zinged all the way into the base of Remus’ skull. “I sweated through your shirt,” he muttered, pushing his head further beneath Sirius’ chin. “After I stole it from you by accident. Sorry. I’ll wash it.”
He felt Sirius’ smile on his temple. “Keep it. Looks better on you.”
“Think I left mine at your place.”
“Guess you’ll just have to come back and get it,” Sirius whispered playfully. Remus couldn’t help a grin, raising his head despite the pounding drowsiness behind his eye—he had barely opened his mouth to retort when there were lips brushing his own, a wordless request. He granted it easily.
This was different than the rushed promise on the ambulance. Different than last night’s smoky, need-fueled passion. He let Sirius lead, tender and questioning, then pushed into it a little more. Have it, he tried to say. Take it all, it’s been yours for a while. The words may not work, but he was willing to bet Sirius would understand anyway. His lower lip was chapped on one side when Remus ran his tongue along the seam, giddy and dizzy with the kiss-buzz of chasteness.
“Hmm.”
That was good. It was all good, if Sirius would keep making noises like that. He brought his hands up to rest on narrow hips (marked with a tiny scar just above his thigh, which Remus was so fucking glad he knew now) and gave a little more, pushed a little harder. Sirius’ hand cupped his jaw and the right side of Remus’ brain powered down.
“Hm—wait, wait.”
His attempt to lick forward into Sirius’ mouth was stymied by sudden distance between them. Not far—he could still pick out each fleck of quicksilver in Sirius’ unfocused eyes—but far enough to be frustrating for the part of him that was enjoying turning his thoughts off. Remus went up on his toes for more, but Sirius pulled away. “What?” he whispered, though they were alone. “Did you—are you mad at me?”
“No,” Sirius said hurriedly. His hands soothed down Remus’ sides in a long drag that sent tingles through each cell. “God, no, I’m trying to—” His cheeks went a touch pink as he glanced around them and coughed lightly. “Uh, I’m trying to calm down.”
“Oh. Oh.”
Remus hadn’t even thought about that. He was pretty sure he was too tired for his body to consider arousal, aside from the inevitable spike of desire for a soft place to land for two to eight hours. Sirius’ mouth was so nice, his body so warm, that it was all too tempting to get lost in it.
Sirius’ tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. Well. Remus supposed he might be able to feel something other than pure exhaustion, if he tried. “What time do you get off?”
“Whenever you want me to,” Remus answered immediately, then felt himself redden at the arch of Sirius’ brows. “Fuck—sorry. Midnight. My shift’s done at midnight.”
The fingertips on his back had become an extraordinary distraction. Sirius looked almost shy, so at odds with the animated boy he knew against this backdrop that Remus wanted to memorize every inch of it. “Can I…” Sirius began, then trailed off as his blush darkened. His thumbs hooked around Remus’ hipbones and paused there, lingering on bare skin. “Can I maybe take you to dinner? Or a diner?”
“At midnight?”
“I know a couple places.”
Remus frowned. “You have work tomorrow.”
Sirius gave a sheepish half-shrug. “We could nap together. Today, I mean. If you want.”
“I smell horrible.”
“You smell fine.”
“I’m soaked in dry sweat.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I—” That was it for excuses. That was all he had. Every defense against Sirius was dust in the wind. He smiled, and stood on his toes again to kiss one scruffy cheek. “Yeah, sounds good. Let me wash my face and grab some water. I’ll meet you in the bunks.”
Sirius’ eyes crinkled, and Remus fell for him all over again. “I’ll be waiting.”
97 notes · View notes
cy-cyborg · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Prologue for my Legend of Spyro fanfic is up on AO3!
The story centers on Cynder as she tries to find her place in a world where she survived the events of The Legend of Spyro games, but Spyro did not. Her past turns out to be much harder to outrun than she’d hoped though, and with the help of new friends, she’ll learn to accept that her history is a part of her, but that doesn’t mean she has to be bound to it going forward.
I'm planning to include some art in each chapter (Which I'll also post here/to my art account) and aiming to upload once a week, but we'll see how that goes lol.
Read the chapter on Ao3
Next ->
[Header ID: An image of Cynder from the Legend of Spyro as a teenager watching Sparx fly through a ruined corridor. Cynder is a black dragon with 6 white horns, her back is to the viewer, but a small purple gemstone is visible in her mouth. She is hiding behind a piece of broken wall. Sparx is a yellow, glowing dragonfly, though from here no part of him is visble outside the glow he emits. The Temple Corridor is covered in ash. A purple banner sticks out from the ash, illuminated by Sparx's light. /End ID]
29 notes · View notes