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#i just came across one in a tag and my eyes....
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Naughty Girl » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky punishes you for sending him dirty texts while he’s at work.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty texts, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, male masturbation, unprotected sex, rough sex, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, choking, degrading, handcuffs, sex toys, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut, whore), aftercare, use of pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any kind of mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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Bucky pulled his phone out of his pocket when it vibrated. He smiles widely when he sees a text from you.
Doll🩷: I want you
Bucky: I’m in a meeting, doll
Bucky shut his phone off and continued to listen to the rest of the meeting. His phone vibrated again. He opened the message to see a picture of you completely naked with your legs spread in front of a full body mirror the two of you just bought, making his eyes go wide. Bucky shifted in his seat, feeling his cock get hard. He completely forgot he was in a meeting. His mind wandered elsewhere. Like how he was going to punish you when he gets home from work.
“You ok, Buck?” Steve asks.
“Uh huh, yea.” Bucky says, clearing his throat.
Bucky shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket. When the meeting was over, Bucky left the Avengers Compound and raced home, zooming through traffic on his motorcycle. Bucky slammed the door to yours and his apartment, walking straight to yours and his shared bedroom in search of you. He found you lying on the bed completely naked.
“Care to explain why you sent me a naked picture of yourself while I was in a meeting, babydoll?” Bucky asks, taking his jacket off and threw it somewhere in the bedroom.
“I was horny, daddy.” You answered. “I still am.” You say.
“Tell me, babydoll…” He approaches the bed. “Did you touch yourself?” He asks.
“Mhmm yes.” You hummed.
“How many times did you cum?” He asks.
“Two times.” You tell him.
Bucky licks his lips and sat down on the bed. He practically manhandled you to get you to lay across his lap.
“Since you decided to act like a slut when I wasn’t home, I’m going to treat you like one.” Bucky says.
His right hand rubbed across your ass cheeks before he landed a harsh smack on it, making you moan. He landed another smack on your ass that was harsher than the first one. Bucky spanked you eighteen more times. Your pussy was dripping by the time he was done spanking you. Your ass was red as a cherry with his hand print on it.
“Lay on your back.” He orders.
You listened and laid down on the bed, hissing when the sheets came in contact with your stinging skin on your ass. You watched as Bucky went in the closet and came out with a box. Your eyes widen. You know that box. It’s the box you and Bucky keep sex toys in. Bucky put the box on the nightstand and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of it.
“Arms above your head.” He instructs.
You put your arms above your head and Bucky handcuffed them to the bed frame. He tied your legs to the bed frame with silk ties. Bucky’s right hand disappeared between your legs, his fingers rubbing your pussy and spreading your wetness around. Your breath hitched in your throat when you seen him pick up a vibrator from the box. It’s the one that can make you cum in seconds. Bucky rubbed it in between your folds, covering it in your wetness before turning it on a low level and held it against your clit, making you squeak.
“Ah fuck, daddy!” You moaned.
Bucky loves watching you fall apart with the vibrator. You begging for him to fuck you with his fingers, tongue, or cock is like music to his ears. He watched intensely as your chest rose and fell, pants and moans of his name leaving your lips. His metal hand went to your breasts, giving one of them a squeeze before pinching your nipple. Bucky repeated the same actions on your other breast. Your pussy clenched around at the feeling. He turned the vibrator up to a higher setting causing you to moan loudly. His metal hand caressed your cheek, his metal thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and sucked on it, your tongue swirling around it like it were his cock while holding eye contact with him. A growl left Bucky’s lips as he watched you. Bucky put the vibrator on the highest setting. You arched your back and threw your head back against the pillow in pleasure. Your orgasm was building up quickly. You were right on the edge. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.
“Oh fuck…” You whimpered. “Can I- ah fuck! Can I please cum daddy?” You asked desperately.
“Cum.” Is all he says.
A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you and the vibrator. Bucky nearly came in his pants at the sight of you squirting. He shut the vibrator off and put it on the nightstand, making you whine. That earned you a smack on your thigh.
“Quit your fucking whining or I’ll give you something to whine about.” Bucky says.
You watched with hungry eyes as Bucky stripped off his clothes. Your eyes immediately looked down at his cock, hard and leaking with precum.
“My eyes are up here, doll.” He says, snapping his fingers in your face.
Bucky got on the bed in between your spread legs. You looked at him as he wrapped his right hand around his cock. He thumb swiped over his tip, using his precum as a lubricant. You watched with hungry eyes as he began pumping his cock. You licked your lips, wanting nothing more than to suck his cock. You whined and tugged on the restraints, making Bucky chuckle.
“You did this to yourself, babydoll.” Bucky tells you. “You shouldn’t have been acting like a little whore. Now you have to watch daddy play with his cock.” He says.
“But daddy…” You whined.
“What did I say about whining?” He asks.
“Quit whining or you’ll give me something to whine about.” You answered.
Your eyes stayed glued to his cock as he began jerking himself off. Tingles went through your body when moans fell from his lips.
“You could be putting that pretty little mouth of yours to good use, but it’s too bad you can’t.” He says tauntingly.
Your breathing hitched in your throat as his hand moved faster. Your pussy was wet with slick as you watched his hand move up and down on his cock. Precum leaked down his cock. He used it as a lubricant. You were so focused on his cock that you didn’t even realize that you were drooling.
“Hungry for daddy’s cock, doll face?” Bucky asks.
“I’m always hungry for your fat cock, daddy.” You say.
“Too bad you’re not getting it yet.” He chuckles, making you pout.
You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief, but you couldn’t, due to the restraints. Bucky looks so incredibly hot. His muscles flexed as pleasure took over his body.
“You look so hot, daddy.” You say, bitting your bottom lip.
“Yea?” He rasps, moving his hand faster.
“Mmm.” You hummed. “So fucking hot.” You say more in a moan.
“I know what you’re doing, doll and it’s not going to work.” He says.
You huffed and pouted as you continued to watch him jerk off. His hand lost rhyme due to his orgasm building up, but regained it.
“You want daddy’s cum, babydoll?” Bucky asks, panting.
“Yes please! Give me your cum, daddy!” You say a little too desperately.
Bucky chuckles at your desperateness. He moved closer to you. His hand moved faster on his cock. Soon enough, his cum landed on your stomach and chest. You moaned at the warm feeling of it. Bucky sat back on his knees to catch his breath for a moment.
“Can you uncuff and untie me now?” You asked, tugging on the restraints.
“No.” Bucky says.
“But I’ve been a good girl for you daddy.” You say with a pout.
“That’s true, but I’m not done with you yet, babydoll.” He says.
Bucky rubbed his hands on your inner thighs, dangerously close to your pussy. He rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, covering it in your slick before tapping his tip on your clit a few minutes, making your hips jolt up at the sensation. He lined his cock at your tight entrance and slid it inside of you in one hard thrust, making you gasp.
“God damn, you’re fucking tight.” Bucky groans, tilting his back a little.
He pulled almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you before thrusting back inside of you hard. You tugged on the handcuffs and threw your head back in pleasure. Bucky’s hands grasped your hips tightly as he fucked into you. Loud moans and screams left your lips. It was like music to Bucky’s ears. Bucky’s eyes wandered your body, stopping at your breast and watched as they bounced every time he thrusted into you.
“Tell me again, babydoll…” Bucky starts. “Why did you send me that naughty picture of you while I was in a meeting?” He asks.
“I wanted you so fucking bad, daddy.” You say more in a whine.
“You’re getting me now, doll face.” He says, his voice a little deeper than normal.
His vibranium hand left your hip, placing it on the headboard above your head. His dog tags dangled in your face. You desperately wanted to grab the chain of his dog tags and give him a filthy kiss. Your eyes wandered further down his perfectly sculpted body, watching as his abs flexed every time he thrusted into you. The perfectly trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit, stimulating it.
“Checking out daddy?” Bucky smirks.
“Mmm.” You moaned.
Your lips parted, a loud moan leaving them when his cock hit your sweet spot. You arched your back in pleasure, tugging on the handcuffs and pressing your chest upwards towards his face. Bucky took the opportunity to mark up your breasts with hickeys. His mouth was occupied on your left breast while his right hand found its place on your left one, squeezing it and pinching your nipple. A gasp left your lips when his teeth grazed your nipple. A tingling sensation shot through your body and your cunt squeezed around his cock at the feeling. He repeated his actions on your other breast, getting the same reaction from you.
Bucky stopped thrusting and pulled out momentarily to untie your ankles from the bed frame. A squeak left your lips when he flipped you over onto your stomach, the chain of the handcuffs twisting. He lifted your hips, angling your ass towards him. He placed his metal hand on the top of your back and pushed the top of your body down against the bed, making you stick your ass out more. He nudged his thigh between yours to spread your legs apart. You moaned when his thigh came in contact with your wet cunt.
“You look so much better in this position.” Bucky says, his hands rubbing your red and sore ass cheeks and gave them a squeeze, the coolness of his vibranium hand soothed the stinging of your ass.
“But I want to look at you while you’re fucking me, daddy.” You say with a pout, looking over your shoulder to look at him.
“You shouldn’t have a naughty girl and sent me a dirty picture of yourself while I was at work.” He says.
Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance. He circled his tip around your entrance to tease you, making you whine which earned you a smack on your ass.
“How many times do I have to tell you quit fucking whine?” Bucky asks.
“Sorry, daddy.” You mumbled.
Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in a harsh thrust, making you gasp. His thrusts were more harder and faster than when you were in the first position. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips.
“You look so breedable like this.” He says, taking in the sight in front of him.
“Breed me, daddy.” You blurted out in a moan.
Him hearing those words come out of your mouth made him go feral. The image of you pregnant with his child is the only thing in his mind at the moment.
“I’ll fucking breed you real good, babydoll.” His voice lower than normal. “Everyone will know who you belong to when they see you pregnant with my child.” He says, almost a growl.
His thrust sped up. The sound of skin slapping and the smell of sex filled the bedroom. His cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly with each thrust. Your legs began trembling as your orgasm started to build up. It felt like a tidal wave was about to come crashing down on you.
“Can I- fuck! Can I please cum, daddy?” You asked, begging. “I’ve been a good girl.” You say.
“Cum for me, doll.” He says.
Bucky’s vibranium hand left your hip and reached around your front, blindly finding your clit and began rubbing it in fast circles. A loud moan left your lips as you came hard, your cum soaking your thighs and his cock. Bucky gave your clit a particularly rough run before focusing on his own orgasm which was coming fast. His thrust became sloppy before he regained his pace. A moan left Bucky’s lips as he came inside of you, painting your walls. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out and sat back on his knees to catch his breath. His eyes watched as his cum dripped out of your pussy. His fingers on his right hand scoop it up and pushed it back inside of you. You moaned and squirmed at the feeling.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll face.” Bucky says, uncuffing your wrists that are now red.
“Don’t wanna move.” You mumbled with a pout.
“I’ll carry you.” He says softly.
Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom. He ran you a warm bath and helped clean you up before cleaning himself up. When you two were done in the bath, he dried you off and carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed after giving you one of his shirts to wear to bed. He got in bed next to you and wrapped his arms around you protectively, pulling you closer to him.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky says softly, kissing the top of your head.
“I love you too, Bucky.” You say sleepily before falling asleep with your head on his chest.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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lqveharrington · 2 days
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Hidden Hatred | V.
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summary: You’re a new Overlord and meet Vox for the first time. Who knew what that first interaction would do for the both of you down the line.
pairing: Vox x witch Overlord!reader
includes: name calling, mentions of murder, technically enemies to lovers, Vox being whipped by you, jealously, suggestiveness, teasing, fluff, angst if you squint, (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: 1st request for Vox done! Also, tell me why I love giving them powers like wanda? it’s so cool tho
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When you became an Overlord, you quickly recognized all the other Overlords at meetings, matching their personality to name. For example, Alastor’s voice effects gave the illusion of a radio, hence Radio Demon. Or Carmilla and her pointe shoes made of angelic steel. However, there were some Overlords who never attended the meetings, sending in one of the associates in place. The Vees being the only Overlords to do so, typically sending the youngest to attend the meetings. In doing this, you never met the others, refusing to associate online presence with their real self.
So when Vox came in place for Velvette for one of the Overlord meetings, you were slightly confused.
“Vox, how lovely for you to join us this afternoon.” Carmilla gestured toward the Television Demon across the table, her stare sharp when he tapped away on his phone.
“Uh-huh, can we make this quick? I have a company to run.” He threw her a bored look and scanned the rest of the room, noticing a new face. “Who the hell is this bitch?”
Your face jumps in surprise at his words before giving him a small smile. “It’s—“
“You know what? I don’t give a shit.” Vox glanced back at his phone. “Please, continue Carmilla.”
You huff, conjuring up red wisps from your fingertips to mess with while the meeting continues. You thought dealing with Velvette when you first met was a pain, but Vox was ten times worse than she was, and you just met! He seemed interesting, and you never expected a demon Overlord to have a television for a head, but his disinterest in you put you in a sour mood. You genuinely wanted to understand how he was an Overlord, but it seemed impossible with his nature.
“Now dear, let’s not think of murderous thoughts.” Alastor hummed in your direction when he saw you send a death glare toward the Television Demon as you left the meeting room, to which you only received an eye roll back. “Only I can have an enemy like him.”
“Al, during our short break he told me to fuck off and shoved his finger in my face!” You seeth as your eyes glow red with more wisps emitting from your fingers. “I’m going to murder him.”
Alastor caught your arm, “You will not do such things to an Overlord. If he appears at the next meeting and continues to act rude toward one of our gracious ladies, please tell me.”
“Of course, Al.” You snap your fingers, creating a portal to your Overlord territory. “I’ll see you in a month.”
Although you weren’t going to see all the Overlords in one place for a month, that didn’t mean a certain Television Demon consumed your thoughts because of your behavior toward one another during one meeting. It seemed as if every piece of technology reminded you of him, causing some unwanted thoughts to form during wanting times.
Much like you, Vox’s thoughts were filled to the brim of you. How has he never met you? How has Velvette never mentioned a new Overlord in Pentagram City? Oh, he wanted to know more about you. It was only a matter of time before he realized he was entirely whipped by your presence.
“What’s up your ass?” Velvette stepped inside the elevator with Vox as he messed with his suit for the nth time. She already had a suspicion something was up when he decided to tag along for the meeting, but he was acting nervous for a group of people he disrespected. How the fuck does that even work? “Vox.”
“What?” He whipped his head over to his shorter associate as the elevator door dinged.
She gave him an unimpressed look, “What’s going on in your system? You look like you’re going to reboot any second now.”
“Do I?” He reached up to touch his screen, pulling out his phone for vitals.
Velvette furrowed her brows at his reaction when they walked into the meeting room, a couple of other Overlords mingling amongst themselves. “Okay, what’s the fucking problem? Is there someone you—“
“Vox and Velvette.” Carmilla took her slow strides into the room, quickly diminishing the added noise. “To what do we owe the pleasure of two out of the three Vees?”
“This fuck wanted to join me for no reason.” Velvette jabbed her thumb in Vox’s direction, earning a snort from you. All heads turned as you covered your mouth, letting a quick apology fall from your lips.
Carmilla raised a brow, “Thank you… We’ll start off with the…”
Her voice soon became white noise to Vox as he took his seat, glancing up at you every few seconds. God, he hated the way you would quietly speak with Alastor or how you made eye contact with him just to break it with a glare. He hated the way you always dressed to your heart's content and how you failed to respond to Carmilla when asked a question. He hated how he failed to actually hate you.
“Vox, you’re wrecking Carmilla’s table,” Velvette murmured in his direction as Vox’s claws dug deeper into the table’s top.
He looked down at the table, pulling his claws out. He was too focused on your quiet laughter with Alastor to notice the damage. As your quiet laughter subsided, you made eye contact with Vox again before glancing down at the claw marks, and raising a brow at the television.
‘It’s boring.’ Vox mouthed toward you.
You pursed your lips at him, not understanding the game he was playing. ‘Of course it is, it always is.’
Vox rolled his eyes in a joking manner, shooting his attention back to the Overlord in front of the table. You, on the other hand, shot a quizzical look toward him. Sure, your dead heart sped up a bit, and you felt your face warm, but it was only an exchange of two sentences. You felt the red wisps emit from your fingertips again from confusion, pulling at the soft fog created by the magic.
“My dear, what’s gotten you all out of sorts?” Alastor caught up with you when the meeting adjourned with a sharpened grin, noticing your encounter with the Television Demon.
“What do you mean?” You glance back at Vox who offered you a small smirk. Waving him off, you let a small smile slip through.
“That, my dear!” He squinted his eyes toward the television. “Don’t fraternize yourself with him, he’s involved in too much trouble.”
You tilt your head back to Alastor, “We’re in Hell, I can’t think of any reason why anyone would not be in trouble.”
“What I mean to say is don’t get too comfortable with that… thing. It’s not ideal.” His ears fell flat as you paid zero attention to him.
“I won’t. Plus, I’m sure he got bored and bothered the first person he saw. After all, he did tell me to fuck off during the last meeting.” You tuck your arms behind your back. “Don’t worry so much about me, Al. I can handle myself just fine.”
“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about the man you’re associating yourself with.” He patted your head. “Until next time, my dear.”
You watch as he slips away with his shadows, rolling your eyes at his antics. It was highly unlikely that you would start a friendship with Vox, considering the people he lives with. Alastor had nothing to worry about, it was just a moment of boredom consuming the both of you.
At least, that’s what you told yourselves. Satan knows that the first interaction was uncalled for, but it wasn’t Vox’s fault. No, he blamed himself for the image he had to uphold and being struck by a new Overlord’s looks. But as time passed, along with meetings, the urge to see each other became stronger, resulting in meetings outside of the Carmine building.
Literally.
“Doll, you take way too long to get here.” Vox pulled you toward him by your hand, linking them together.
“Aw, I’m sorry. Were you too scared to be here all on your own? Too afraid there are no bodyguards to protect you?” You tease with a wide grin. You watch as he rolls his eyes at you, tugging you closer. You laugh while patting his chest, “I had to deal with an incompetent sinner. I know you wanted to spend more time together before the meeting.”
“You have to make it up to me now.” He smiled down at you, eyes filled with admiration.
You hum, your own eyes gleaming in such a lovesick look. “Like what, Mister Vox? How should I make it up to you?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted your head further up, the electricity over his hat reflecting his fast heartbeat. “What do you think?”
“I think…” You flit your gaze to his lips before moving them back up to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t be in debt to you.”
“Is that so, doll?” He squints as he tightens his hold on you. “I think I’m deserving of something at least.”
“Mm, no.” You squeeze his hand. He gives you a playful look before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You grin before reciprocating, using your free hand to hold his shoulder. The both of you separate, eyes fluttering open with soft smiles. “Must you defy me, handsome?”
“Only when I want to.” He whispered against your lips as he pressed more kisses on your lips. You giggle as you let your red wisps emit from your fingers, watching as your wisps pull him away from you. “Doll…”
“Mm?” You stay still as he continues to get pulled away by your powers.
“What are you doing?”
You flick your wrist, the wisps disappearing. “Nothing, you’re the one moving away from me.” Vox grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You squeal as he peppers kisses across your face, “Vox, we could be seen.”
“Who’s going to come down this alleyway?” He left one last kiss on your lips, smiling as a fool would.
“The other Overlords who are going to attend the meeting.” You push his screen away as you catch the time on your watch. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”
“Yeah, but they should know you’re taken.” He squeezed your waist.
“You want them to think we hate fuck each other?” You grab his wrists as they sway you around. “You know they still think we hate each other right?”
“Who said we don’t?” He bared his teeth to you, earning an eye roll. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it—“
“Shut up.” You sucker punch his shoulder. “The Tech Overlord dating the Witch Overlord? Never.”
“Never.” He linked your hands again, leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I despise you.”
“Horrible thought.” You pull him along out of the alley, separating as soon as you see Alastor appear out of the shadows. You watched the Radio Demon send you a sharpened grin, which you returned with a small smile.
Although you kept your relationship a secret from the likes of sinners and Overlords, both the Technology Overlord and Witch Overlord knew what they were to each other, even if that meant it was kept hidden.
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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sorrowsofsilence · 1 day
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Desolate Love • N.S
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader (oneshot)
Words: 1.7k
Warnings: Angst, angst, angst.
Prompt: His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love; but you weren't meant to be sung for, even if you loved each other first.
Authors note: I have never written anything like this publically before, but I'm feeling a little sad and angsty lol. I hope you enjoy the words that came from my heart. (ps. I know many on the taglist are here for smut, and this isn’t smut, but I'm just re-using tags since I'm not sure who enjoys what! Pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things!!)
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician
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No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.
He got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.
A reminder of what once was.
A reminder of what would never be.
You wrote unspoken words in your diary, quarrels that would never be said aloud.
Words that confessed years of feelings, years of silenced affections.
As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.
Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours.
He consumed your mind; the way he smiled at you the day you met; his contagious laughter that danced through the walls in grandeur.
“Is this Henderson’s gym class?”
The voice behind startled you, and you turned, meeting a pair of ochre eyes. The stutter that left your lips caused your face to warm in embarrassment, as the messy brunette locks that fell across the boy’s features left you captivated.
“Yeah, I think so?” Your brows furrowed as you second-guessed yourself, even though you double-checked the classroom timetable a thousand times.
His lips spread into a dancing grin, his slight buck teeth chewing playfully on his bottom lip in shyness.
“Cool,” He stuck out his hand, long fingers wrapping around yours, “Noah.”
“Y/N,” You returned the smile, your ears heating as his October gaze never left yours.
You pulled away, briefly glancing down at his shirt, immediately excited.
“You like blink-182?”
Noah looked down at his shirt, pointing at it, “Oh yea, I fucking love them.”
He glanced up at you, fixated, “Do you?”
You nodded excitedly, “They’re probably my favourite band at the moment, other than the 1975, and Oasis, and-” you began to ramble, but stopped, afraid to embarrass yourself anymore than you felt you had.
Something flickered within his eyes at that moment; something you never noticed.
“Wonderwall?” He asked.
A song that became yours.
The burned CD he gave you collected dust in the corner of your room, aged and scratched from years of use. The disk player sat untouched, left as a painful reminder from when the tunes that played were melodies of hope; melodies of elation.
These feelings of grief consumed you, engulfing you into an overwhelming feeling of remorse.
The waves of heartbreak came and left, nostalgia shielding your anguish when memories flooded in.
No one ever filled you with such devotion and desire as he did; and throughout the naivety, you could have sworn it to be love.
It was the way Noah would shout your name from across the room when he saw you, or the way he would cover your eyes, asking you to guess who.
Every time you would laugh, placing your hands on top of his, saying you weren’t sure.
But you knew every time.
His long fingers would twirl your hair when he sat behind you in class, tugging the strands playfully before running his nails over your scalp.
“I just like your hair,” He’d say.
And whenever he picked up his guitar in the band room, he would strum the chords to your song, as if inviting you to listen to his lyrical confessions.
His texts consisted of using silly nicknames, and an overload of emojis to express his feelings. It was over the top, almost as if he was afraid he never came across as genuine enough without them.
Late night conversations went on for hours, laughing at the random stories and memories exchanged through flirtatious banter. You wanted to tell him everything about you, and learn everything about him.
You wanted to know his favourite colour, and what cologne he wore. His goals and dreams intrigued you, his fears and dislikes alluring.
You began to like the things he did, just to have something to talk about. You watched the shows he recommended and googled the things you didn’t know. Anything for him.
Noah would tell you how proud he was of you if you shared an accomplishment, or how pretty you looked when you wore your hair down.
He told you he loved your sneakers, and the way your oversized sweaters engulfed your body.
“You could wear mine,” He said, “You look good in my clothes.”
He would grab your hands, drawing silly pictures in Sharpie. It always left you frustrated when the image of an scribbled smiley face barely faded with each scrub.
But really, you would stare at it in admiration, blushing at the thought of his fingers brushing against yours.
“You like him, don’t you?” Your best friends pried, causing you to flush in embarrassment.
“He doesn’t like me like that,” You sighed, shaking your head, “We’re just friends.”
Just friends don’t play with each others hair like that.
Just friends don’t call each other pretty.
Just friends don’t text each other all night long.
“Is it easier to just pretend?”
Time went on, and your heart fluttered at every smile Noah shared with you, and at every word you exchanged.
The daily good morning and goodnight texts left you melting, succumbing your heart to his as he claimed it for his own.
Deep down, you knew he liked you more than just a friend. The way he treated you was special; there was no way that was how friends treat friends.
N: “Hey, your crush 100% likes you back.”
You: “Uhh hey? How would you know?”
N: “Well, I know who you like.”
You: “I guarantee you don’t.”
N: “Hmm, but I do? And I know he likes you back.”
You: “Sure Noah, haha. Go to bed.”
N: “I’m just saying. He likes you. Goodnight Y/N <3”
With a spiralling mind, your heart hammered.
Did he know how you felt about him? Did he just confess his feelings?
Hope.
It wasn’t until he pulled you into the storage closet a week later, that sorrow knocking down any previous signs of faith.
Torn.
“Y/N, I just wanted to talk… but I know you have feelings for me.”
His eyes bore into your own, sorrowful and sullen.
“Look,” he began, grabbing your hands in his, eyes glancing at your entwined fingers, “I- I just promised myself to someone else. My girl- ex-girlfriend, is coming here, and the reason we broke up was because I transferred.”
He began to ramble, unable to look into your eyes as he confessed his worries. Your heart began to shatter as you forced a small smile. Pulling your hands from his you placed them on his shoulders, causing him to pause.
“Noah,” You said softly, the words leaving your mouth a blatant lie, “It’s ok. I understand.“
His shoulders fell as he watched you. He brought you into a hug, squeezing you against his body, holding onto you.
Ludicrous. Empty.
You cried, your knees held to your chest in comfort as a shield from the feelings of abandonment. How could you be so naive?
You: “Just wanted to say thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if my feelings complicate things, I care about you a lot Noah.”
N: “I’m sorry, for everything. You mean a lot to me, and I care about you. ”
You: “If you knew who I liked all along… why did you say that my crush liked me back?”
It took him almost an hour to respond.
N: “Because I do like you Y/N. I like you a lot… but I promised myself to someone.”
The tears that fell from your face that night left you parched and broken, your world-shattering.
You found someone else a year later. Love that fulfilled your every need, someone to cherish you for you. It was someone who gave you everything; but your mind selfishly always wandered back to him.
You didn’t know that the day he found out you became spoken for, was the day he broke into a million pieces from a whole.
His heart was mutilated, head spinning with uncontrollable thoughts of regret.
How could he have let you slip through his fingers? All for some what-ifs?
He pretended to be happy for you.
Years passed, and you both grew. Both changed, both matured.
You got a ring, and Noah played in a band. You went to every show, you still showed up, even though you knew you were always a second choice.
He watched you the whole time as his fingers traced the strings of the guitar, and your heart yearned for him; screaming and aching and crying that you were just a body in the room.
It wasn’t until he found someone, that you told yourself it wasn’t healthy to fixate on past uncertainties.
It was rare you went to shows now. But when you did, you watched as he stood on that stage and sung; his smile brilliant and just for her.
But then you would meet his gaze, and you knew that the ochre was always for you. Forever yours.
His October eyes sang secret confessions as he poured his soul into the melodies of desolate love.
But you weren’t his: you weren’t mean’t to be sung for.
Some nights you called him drunk. You told him you missed him, that you wanted him to know you think about him all the time.
He told you he missed your voice, and how he wished you two still called.
He said he was happy you found someone to love you, because you deserved to be loved.
You knew he was lying.
It was the last time you talked, until you saw him sitting in the audience as you walked down the aisle, marrying a man you loved. A man who promised himself to you forever. A man who chose you first. A man who was not him.
Noah asked for your hand, he asked you for a dance. Your bodies swayed one last time in a synchronized beat, but just as friends; as desolate lovers.
You never listened to Wonderwall again.
Tears pricked at your eyes as you let out a quiet sob, unsure why you were even crying for someone who was never yours. You were meant to be happy now.
As your fingers grazed over the pages of yearning within the leathered journal, your heart reminisced the ache for unattainable amour.
A reminder of what would never be.
A reminder of what once was.
Noah got a tattoo; a constant reminder of the pain.
No one talks about the grief of a loss that was never yours to mourn.
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killjae · 1 day
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leon catdad fluff cause he’s such a cutiepie, this is for you anon!! i hope you see this :3
this is also my second fic, so please enjoy!! special tags :3 @wriosmilk @scorpiolara
ribbon border made by @cherubify !!!
ermm sweet sickle leon, praise and appreciation, catdad leon!!! you’re surrounded in lovebites!!!!!
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it was storming outside, the light pitter patter of rain hitting your windowpanes continuously. the sound of thunder booming every now and then, despite the fact you were huddled under a blanket trying to keep yourself warm while watching a movie.
a ring could be heard from your doorbell as it chimed loudly, the sudden noise making you turn your head towards the door and get up.
your soft footsteps making their way across the floor before your hand reached the doorknob and opened it to a small soaked cardboard box with a wet piece of paper attached to it.
what? who would leave this here? you questioned yourself, unsure of what lies inside of the mysterious box. the thought lingering in your head as you carefully peaked over, the sound of rain filling your ears as it was pouring down outside.
there was no one to be found, who could have done this?
a small mew comes out and startles you. what? it was an animal inside, left out in the rain.
you leaned over and opened the box to find a small calico cat, it was soaked with water and mud in it’s fur as it stared up at you. poor thing. you quickly moved to take it inside despite the water leaving a trail as you brought the box inside along with the note attached.
it read. “i’m giving this cat up for adoption, as i cannot hold another one. i don’t have much time left to foster anymore animals so i’ve been sending them out to be adopted by other loving homes. please take care of her, she’s very loving and energetic when you get to know her.”
the feeling after reading the soggy paper left you with a frown and a feeling of sorrow as you looked down at the kitten once again, another meow could be heard.
you grabbed the kitten despite the mud, fleas and murky water coating your hands before bringing her over to a small bowl and filling it with warm water.
giving her a small dawn-soaped bath getting all the fleas and dirt off of her tiny body as she mewled and whined out, not yet used to the feeling of this new warmth.
she was a beautiful calico cat with a brown heart birthmark on her left cheek, almost reminding you of leon with the way you smiled at her. you wrapped her in a small blanket to keep her warm before calling leon, holding the phone to your ear as you rubbed both her sides in the blanket to warm her up faster.
“i-i found this kitten outside left in a cardboard box, with a note about her owner having a limited time left on this earth. i know you said you wouldn’t want a pet, let alone a cat, but she needs us—“
“…are you kidding? you know i’m not very fond of cats.”
“—leon, come on. she’s a baby, she looks barely 4 years old. plus, i kinda gave her a bath and everything, including the flea treatment and now i just have to get some formula that would be good for her to feed on till she gets big enough on her own.”
“..i’m coming home now.”
“don’t be mad, okay? she’s really cute.”
it wasn’t until twenty minutes later you heard the front door open and leon was taking his work boots off and his uniform before leaving himself in a tanktop and his workpants. you were sitting on the couch, keeping the kitten in your lap as she snuggled into your embrace.
“so, where is she?” leon’s booming voice came from behind as he moved from the side of the couch to sit next to you, his eyes instantly going to the small animal sitting in your embrace.
he lightly gasped seeing her fur pattern and genes before leaning closer to her. “..she’s pretty. you said someone left her on our porch? what a shame they can’t take care of anymore but that doesn’t mean we can foster her.”
“leon. she’s just a baby, a kitten literally. why can’t we keep her?” you tilted your head with a frown, looking at him before he huffed.
“we have to get her spayed, her check-ups, and going to the vet.. that’s a lot, plus YOU like her, i’m not into cats like that.” leon gave you a look, although secretly he was considering the possibilities of keeping the kitten.
“i’ll handle all of that, she’s gonna be my baby. she’s gorgeous and such a beautiful breed.” you smiled, lightly petting the kitten’s fur as she yawned before closing her eyes.
“are you sure? i still think we shouldn’t, and we should wait to get a bigger house.” leon spoke, as he crossed his arms.
little did he know.
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months later you three are staying at home on a saturday as he’s throwing a squeaky mouse for your cat to catch. you ended up naming her miri, despite leon’s protest on not keeping her. he protested for a long 12 months, eventually coming to like miri.
“you’re a reall, pretty girl. a good one too, you really like this mouse, huh?” leon chuckled as he watched miri repeatedly chase it with excitement.
you stared at the two of them with a smile, remembering how leon went against keeping her a year ago when she was left on your front porch in the soaking wet rain. that stormy night, you’ll never forget the staying up late and having to change schedules because you two were new cat parents.
“shut up, okay? i know what you’re thinking of. i didn’t realize she’s not that bad and she’s actually pretty adorable.” leon spoke out of nowhere as miri was on his shoulder, nibbling his earlobe and slow blinking to signal she was really comfortable around the two of you.
leon felt a sense of pride and achievement in his life, being a catdad despite his previous attitude in the past.
he was happy to have two beautiful girls in his life that he would die for.
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fandomnerd9602 · 2 days
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Spideypool: guess who?
Gwenpool: we’re back!
A/N: what now?
Gwenpool: just look at the title @fandomnerd9602 !
Rogue x Wolverine!Reader NSFW Headcanons
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Rogue never got to experience love before she met you, the son of Wolverine.
You’re the only one who’s not affected by her parasitic touch. She was ecstatic when she realized it. But yet love came naturally for you and her
Rogue is an affectionate lover. She always wants to wrap her arms around you in some way or rub her fingers across your body.
She is a goofy lover. Rogue loves making little quips and jokes as the two of you make love.
Favorite position? Missionary. She loves looking into your eyes and letting you just how good you make her feel. She also revels in knowing that she’s making you feel like heaven.
Another favorite? Against the wall. It’s exciting for her.
Rogue is big on encouraging you, “oh sugah! Keep going! You know the right spots don’t ya? Oh baby you make my heart skip a beat!”
Oral? Big fan of giving and receiving. It’s a mutually loving experience.
Kink? Sensory play. She loves blindfolding you and running a feather across you. Anything soft really. She also loves it when you do it to her.
She has a high drive. Could be attributed to her years without physical contact or maybe that’s just how attracted she is to you.
A big no no? Whips. Rogue is all about love not pain. “There’s enough pain in the world, sugah, I don’t wanna hurt you”
Anna Marie is a gentle lover, preferring to take it slow and steady. She relishes your touch. But she’s not adverse to little fun quickies.
Turn on? When you get all sweaty after a training session with Logan and Colossus. Her smile turns you on.
Favorite body part? You love her thighs. You want them wrapped around your waist or face all day long. Rogue loves your fingers and she loves caressing your claws, she’ll place little kisses to them.
Anna Marie loves falling asleep in your arms after going a couple rounds. It makes her feel safe to be spooning with you. She wants you and only you.
Rogue is a major tease. She’ll steal your shirts and wear them around the Mansion because she knows how her wearing your clothes is a major turn on. Rogue will wiggle her hips or wear the pants that accentuate her body just right and top it off with a wink too.
Rogue is a fairly loud lover in bed. She’ll guide you to the places that make her gasp and scream in euphoria. “Oh sugah!!!” She also laughs a lot too, it’s one of the things you love about her.
Your life with Rogue is full of love, adoration and exploration. There’s no one else you want to grow old with.
Spideypool: aww @fandomnerd9602 you make everything so cute and fluffy
Gwenpool: yeah
A/N: thanks. will you two please leave my house now?!
Spideypool: nah we love crashing on your couch, buddy
A/N: fine
Tags: @ma1egamer @jacelion @deafeningsharkslimeempath @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @revanshand @wombatking @konstantin609
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delicatebarness · 22 hours
Text
i cant read your mind | chapter four
Summary: The journey to Madripoor.
Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout. Zemo.
Word Count: 1148
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: If I didn't split this episode up then this chapter would have been too long for my brain to be okay with. The next one is gonna be looooong.
Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos |
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Strolling down the prison corridors, the sterile white tiles and harsh fluorescent light amplified a feeling of isolation, as well as a headache. “I’m gonna go alone,” Bucky admitted, addressing both you and Sam. Just as Sam questioned his decision, you objected with a firm “No,” as your mind went back to the last time Bucky was alone with Zemo.
“You’re an Avenger. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky continued, answering Sam's question as he shot you a warning glance that silently said, “Don’t push it,”. You didn’t say anything else while he gave Sam more reasons for him to go alone, you let out a sigh as you watched him leave. 
Anxiety began to rise throughout your body as you stood waiting, Sam sensed your apprehension about the return of The Winter Soldier. “He’ll be alright,” he said as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder in reassurance. 
Your hand instinctively reached up to rub your neck as you responded, “I’ll believe it when he comes back and doesn’t attempt to kill me,” your memories flooded with your first encounter with Bucky. “Again.” 
That day on the bridge changed you. Never before had you been on a mission that came so close to disaster. His right hand effortlessly closed around your neck, you tried to fight back with punches, and kicks and even tried reaching for your gun. He maintained a distance that prevented you from gaining any ground. 
Just in the last second, the shield slammed into his back, which forced him to release his grip, sending you tumbling to the ground. 
~
Your eyes sparked with relief at Bucky’s return, and his expression mirrored yours. You suppressed the urge to rush forward and embrace Bucky, absent from The Winter Soldier. As he walked over to you, he instructed you and Sam to follow him. 
Guided by Bucky, you ventured into the dimly lit garage, relying on flashlights and Bucky’s hand to navigate. You reached for it the second you stepped into the darkness and stuck close to him as he and Sam debated the merits and risks of freeing Zemo. The tension in the air kept you silent until Bucky located the light switch. With a sigh of relief, you exhaled deeply. As you relaxed into the newfound brightness, you slipped your hand out of Bucky’s. 
“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky retorted to Sam. Recognizing his tone of voice, betraying his statement, you knew he had indeed done something. Concern gripped you as you wondered what it could be. Your attention was focused on him as he outlined a plan to free Zemo.
Startled by the door slamming shut, you instinctively moved toward the source. To your surprise, it was Zemo. He strolled into the garage as if it was his own. Maybe it was? “What the fuck, Bucky?!” you exclaimed, joining Sam in a heated exchange with Bucky about this turn of events. As Zemo attempted to interject, all three of you shut him down with a simultaneous “No!”. 
“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You both broke the law, and you stuck your necks out for me.” Bucky shifted his gaze between you and Sam, the weight of the past heavy in your eyes, tears threatening to spill. “I’m asking you to do it again.” he pleaded, his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded, affirming your loyalty to Bucky as Sam commanded rules to Zemo before agreeing. 
~
Sitting on a private jet beside Bucky and across from Zemo felt surreal. Their casual conversation with Sam about Marvin Gaye seemed out of place, prompting you to feign sleep, keeping your eyes closed for most of the journey. Your attention snapped back to them when they mentioned Madripoor, the destination you headed to. Intrigue sparked within you as Zemo started the topic of disguises. They have secretly been one of your favorite aspects of being an agent since the beginning. 
“Don’t touch her,” Bucky’s voice growled a warning, causing you to snap out of your feigned sleep. You opened your eyes just in time to see Zemo reaching towards your shoulder. Grateful for Bucky’s protective instinct, you glanced around feeling disoriented. Bucky was almost on his feet, presumably to stop Zemo physically. 
“Apologies,” Zemo directed to Bucky, who seemed to calm down after Zemo retreated. Zemo then brought his attention back to you. “I have picked out a dress for you to wear, Agent, to blend in,” he gestured toward the door of the jet’s toilet.
~
Unzipping the dress bag, you were surprised by the beautiful red material and its intricate details. Who would have thought Zeemo had such good taste? Without any hesitation, you shed your casual yet tactical wear and slid into the dress. You admired how it hugged your body perfectly. Rushing to see the final look, you adorned yourself with the accessories he had chosen as well. 
Stepping out of the bathroom, you revealed your new identity to your team, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo. Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise, Sam whistled appreciatively, and Zemo offered a polite nod of approval.
“Not a chance,” Bucky’s voice cut through the moment, his gaze bore into you as you walked out wearing the red dress, its neckline plunging and the hem barely covering anything below your waist, your back exposed. 
Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to him, he was looking you up and down with only his eyes still seated. “Excuse me?”
His jaw tensed as he continued to assess your appearance, “You’re not wearing that,” he stated firmly.
Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “And, since when did you get an opinion?” you shot back, defiance in your voice as you met his gaze. 
The tension on the jet thickened as Bucky maintained his stance. Sam sensed the conflict brewing, he decided to step in and attempt to diffuse the situation. 
“Okay, let’s just take a minute,” He interjected, his voice was calm yet authoritative. “We’ve got more important things to worry about-”
“I’m serious,” Bucky interrupted, insisting you wouldn’t be wearing the dress. “You’ll draw too much attention.”
“This dress will not compromise the mission,” you began, your voice steady. “I’ve been in the ‘arm candy’ role for Steve enough to know what I’m doing.” you noticed the shift in his demeanor as his body tensed at the thought of you and Steve being perceived as intimate.
Sam nodded in agreement with you, “She’s got a point, Bucky,” Sam interjected, affirming your statement. He had witnessed this act on a few occasions now to know you’re right. Bucky hesitated, torn between his protective and possessive instincts over you or respecting the supposed end of your so-called relationship. After a moment of silence, a begrudging “Fine.” cut through the tension.
---
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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sincerelyyycece · 2 days
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you frustrate me incredibly, sweetheart.
Who knew that having Remus Lupin as your academic rival could be so enjoyable?
note: classic academic rivals to lovers trope, remus lupin calling you sweetheart ACK
tags: @burningwitchprincess
sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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Y/N Y/L/N stood out as an exceptional individual, effortlessly excelling in all endeavours. Her professors held her in high regard, and her peers looked up to her with a mix of admiration and envy, yearning to emulate her brilliance or bask in her presence. Within her academic department, she held a prominent position, often the subject of conversation and admiration, embodying the epitome of "brains and beauty."
Confident in her abilities, Y/N never fretted about being outshone academically, firmly believing in her own supremacy. While she garnered some rivals, she dismissed them as unworthy of her attention, except for one: Remus Lupin. Despite her initial disbelief, Remus once surpassed her in one of her favoured subjects, leaving Y/N both bewildered and intrigued. From that moment on, Remus became her foremost academic rival.
Y/N found amusement in besting Remus at class activities, relishing in her victories, yet seething with jealousy whenever Remus claimed an award she coveted. Their rivalry provided a captivating spectacle and a source of entertainment that heightened the stakes of academic achievement.
Their ongoing rivalry stretched across countless months, captivating everyone as they eagerly watched the intense competition between them. She harboured a strong disdain for him, and she suspected Remus felt similarly. Yet, as the saying goes, the boundary between love and hate can be remarkably thin.
It all began in the Care of Magical Creature class. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment or reason, but whenever she laid eyes on Remus, a strange sensation gripped her.
As he presented his project to the audience, something about his demeanour made him unexpectedly appealing. When did he become so captivating? She hadn't even realized she was admiring him until their eyes met. Caught off guard, she quickly averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. What just happened? She sighed in frustration, closing her eyes momentarily.
From then on, conflicting emotions about him plagued her thoughts incessantly. He occupied her mind entirely, and she yearned to free herself from his influence. The situation grew increasingly perplexing for her. She went to great lengths to avoid him, strategically ensuring they never crossed paths in class. Despite this, she remained actively engaged in her studies, except when Remus was involved.
She believed she'd successfully dodged him. Keyword: almost. En route to her next class, she found herself abruptly pulled into an empty classroom. Just as she was gearing up to give the stranger a piece of her mind, he beat her to it. "Why are you avoiding me?" came an all-too-familiar voice, causing her to tense. "Well?" he prodded.
"I'm not avoiding you, Lupin," she replied, turning to confront him. "I'm simply preoccupied with my studies," she shrugged. Remus emitted a small snort and remarked, "Please. You can come up with a better excuse than that, sweetheart." The endearment melted her, but she pretended to grimace at it, retorting, "I've asked you not to call me that."
"Not until you enlighten me on the genuine cause of your avoidance," he interjected, clearly teasing. "I've told you, I'm swamped with my academics!" she protested. He responded with a buzzer-like noise akin to those in TV game shows. "Incorrect. Try again," he prompted. "This is so ridiculous," she groaned. Once more, he replicated the sound, drawing out the exchange. "Ugh, I can't stand you!" she finally exploded. That's not true.
"That's not true," Remus interjected, almost as if he were privy to her thoughts. "What?" she murmured softly. "You don't hate me," he remarked with such ease, as though it were a commonplace observation. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What leads you to believe that?" she inquired, hoping to conceal her nerves. "I just have a feeling," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging.
"And what basis does this feeling have?" she pressed, her patience waning as his responses remained terse. "Just a hunch," he reiterated. "You're not making any sense," she protested. "If we're finished with this conversation, I need to head to class. I'm already running late."
As she moved toward the door, he halted her with a sudden confession, addressing her by her first name, a departure from his usual address. She turned back, silently urging him to continue. "I don't hate you," he admitted. Her expression twisted in confusion. "But you do," she retorted.
Remus shook his head, his smile unwavering. "No, really," she persisted. "You hate me!" Once again, Remus refuted her claim. She sighed inwardly in frustration. "Then why have you been competing with me relentlessly? Why strive so hard for the top spot if you don't harbour any animosity towards me?" she demanded.
"I confess," Remus began, "the only reason I've been your constant rival is because it was the only way to capture your attention." He paused as he noticed her silence, then added, "Your intellect has always fascinated me. I've admired you from afar, too intimidated to approach you directly. So, I engaged in every debate, competition, and challenge to ensure your focus was on me, if only for those moments when our minds clashed."
With a deep breath, he continued, "But now, I want more than just rivalry. I want to be the one you choose, the one you love."
My demeanour softened at his confession. I had mistaken his competitiveness for mutual hatred, yet he had been tirelessly vying for my attention all along. His confession made me realize his feelings for me. As Remus anxiously waited for my response, I finally spoke up, saying, "I've spent countless hours competing against you, but I've come to a realization." Remus visibly relaxed upon hearing my voice. "I no longer desire competition. Instead, I want to work with you, beside you, because... because I've fallen in love with you too."
He flashed a grin and remarked, "You frustrate me incredibly, sweetheart." I responded with a smile, quipping, "It's my forte."
With that, he tenderly encircled his arms around my waist, murmuring, "Can I kiss you?" I couldn't help but chuckle as I noticed the hint of a pout on his lips. He pleaded, "Pretty please?" I closed my eyes, leaning in to meet his lips. The kiss unfolded languidly as if we were relishing each other's presence. As he eventually drew back, he sported a foolish grin. He jestingly remarked, "Perhaps this is my finest reward yet." I couldn't help but snort at his cheesy humour.
Their lips met again in a moment that seemed to suspend time, sealing their newfound affection with a tender promise. With the weight of competition lifted, they embarked on a journey together, intertwining their paths in both love and academia. As they walked out of the empty classroom hand in hand, Y/N knew that their story was just beginning, brimming with possibilities and shared dreams. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of their shared laughter, she realized that sometimes rivalry could blossom into the most unexpected love story of all.
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lucienarcheron · 2 days
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Spirit Meets the Bones - XVI
Genre: Angst/Romance  Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.
shoutout to my bby @abruisedmuse for staying on this journey with me!
tagging: @climb-the-mountian | @vanserrass | @positivewitch | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @readthelastpaage | @clockwork-ashes | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @readychilledwine | @goldenmagnolias | @thedarkinmansfield | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @moonfawnx | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @illyrianshadowhunter | @alohaangels | @moobell55 | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @feysandfeels | @thelovelymadone | @corcracrow | @dawneternal | @teddyhoneybear | @sinnerrsworld | @queenoftheworld1998
Find it all here.
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Before panic closed his throat and he could dive into an irrational mental breakdown, Iris returned with a bowl and a small cloth in her hands, and visceral relief washed over him. Eris watched her make her way toward their couch and sit. She looked at him and then calmly gestured to the seat next to her. “Come sit. I want to see your hands.”
Eris’s blink was the only show of surprise he would allow himself to give but slowly, he made his way over to her. He carefully sat next to her, allowing enough space between them in case she needed it. In case — in case he had indeed frightened her.
Iris paused at the space and her brows furrowed. “Are you uncomfortable if I come closer?” she asked quietly, a flush on her face and Eris felt his chest tighten.
“I’m giving you space — from me.”
He watched her expression soften and with a small shake of her head, she moved closer to him and held out her hands. Eris let his eyes roam her face before his gaze dipped to her open palms. She was so steady. So steady and calm. No panic to be found. His wife, a healer through and through.
His eyes flickered back to her face, her bruises still evident and he felt a part of him die at the sight.
“You’re the one who is hurt,” he said roughly. “He — he left bruises on you.”
Iris paused and Eris had to swallow as a rage like no other consumed once more. He had half a mind to find her father again and just rip his head clean off his body. He wanted to kill him again and again and maybe even —
“Eris.”
He blinked and Iris came back into view. She surprised him once more when she gave him a tight smile.
“I’m okay.” she said softly. “It’s already healing. This isn’t even the worst he’s done.”
“Not the worst?” he snarled and Eris’s hands fisted in his lap, the cuts and scrapes stinging in protest but he still said through clenched teeth, “He shouldn’t have been in here. He shouldn’t have laid a hand on you. I gave you my word —”
“My father is the only one responsible for what happened here. Do not blame yourself.” she said firmly, mirroring a statement of his own.
But how could he not blame himself? He was supposed to have protected her. He was supposed to —
“Can I see your hands, please?” she said and held out her hands once more.
Eris’s eyes flickered down to them, steady and open for him but he met her eyes again. “Are you sure?”
Iris only paused for a moment then quietly said, “Of course.”
Slowly, he slid his bruised and bloodied fists into her hands and his heart began thumping wildly as she ran her thumb across them, turning them over to assess. Iris rested them in her lap then turned to the bowl, wetting the towel and wringing it out before bringing it back toward him.
“It might sting a little.” she said softly.
“Believe it or not, I can handle a little sting.” he said quietly, and the corner of Iris’s mouth lifted as she shifted closer. Eris almost did as well but his face immediately fell at the slight wince that crossed her face.
“I’m fine.” she said quickly but he pulled his hands away.
“Clearly.” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m going to call for Nevien. She can heal you and I can heal fine on my own.”
“No!” Iris said and Eris froze at her tone. At the wide eyes and the bob of her throat. “I — I don’t want anyone to know. It’s healing as we speak so just — let me heal you.”
His eyes narrowed, assessing, and Eris tilted his head just so, hearing the frantic beating of her heart. Sensing the embarrassment radiating off her. He felt himself reluctantly soften.
“There isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, Iris.” he said quietly, and his chest tightened again at the tremble in her lip.
Her eyes fell to her lap and she took a breath before looking up at him again. “Can I please just heal your hands?” she whispered. “Please?”
And it was the pleading look in her eyes that had Eris run his tongue over his teeth and give in, slowly resting his fists in her lap once more. He watched her silently, slowly inhaling and exhaling to calm himself, to calm the rage still sweeping through him so that Iris didn’t back away from him. Only when she had started dabbing at his cuts and running her fingers gently across them to heal, did she finally speak.
“You beat him to near death.” she commented.
“If you had let me, I would’ve killed him.”
Iris stopped and looked up at him. She watched him silently for a moment then her eyes fell back to his hands. “For me.” she stated.
“For you.” he confirmed, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt no hesitation in answering. None. And he straightened as that thought sobered him up completely.
He let it fall silent between them once more, observing her as she curled a strand of loose hair behind her ear then continued with his hands. Eris watched her face as he flexed a fist in her lap and Iris winced slightly, freezing for a moment. His face fell.
Trying to hide the slight desperation in his tone, he asked, “A question for a question.”
It made his heart clench when the corner of her mouth went up in a sad smile. “A question for a question.”
“Did I frighten you?”
She blinked at him in surprise. “No.”
“You flinched back when I flexed my hand.”
Iris’s lips went into a thin line but she fell silent. Eris watched her swallow, holding as still as possible, hearing how rapidly her heart beat. He wanted — gods, he wanted to soothe her. He wasn’t exactly sure how but cauldron, he wanted to bring her some peace. He wanted to pull her closer and — and — Eris licked his lips, his eyes darting all over the tight expression on her face and grimacing.
He had only held her in his arms for the first time last night. He didn’t realize wanting to hug someone would be so hard.
So he waited and did the only thing that felt most natural between them, he took her hand in his and gently ran his thumb against the back of it.
“He — he slammed me against the table so my lower back is a little sore. When I shifted just now, I felt the aftermath of that.” she explained calmly, her hands now resting beneath his. She carefully met his gaze.
And Eris waited again as she watched him. She swallowed then her face fell, her bottom lip trembling violently and Eris’s expression mirrored hers.
“Iris —”
“I talk a big game.” she said faintly. “But in the end when it comes to my father...I am nothing.”
Eris’s grip tightened on her hands. “Don’t you dare call yourself that. He is nothing. He is nothing but a piece of shit —”
But Iris squeezed his hands again and the sniffle that followed silenced Eris. “I am weak.” she whispered and her hands shook in his. “When it comes to him, I always am. I am glad you came but I still wish — I wish you hadn’t seen it.”
“Iris — no.” he breathed, and this time Eris did pull her closer, his fingers gently skimming her cheek and curling a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You and I — we — we’re two sides of the same coin, remember? I want to see. I want to know. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”
“I’m — I’m not used to anyone seeing it when he acts like that.” she continued and looked anywhere but at him. “I don’t like this feeling.”
“Iris.” he said gently and pulled her chin towards him. It killed him to see the silver lining her eyes, to see that lip still trembling, to hear another sniffle. He still didn’t know how to soothe. He still wasn’t sure how to ease. All his life ever consisted of was chaos and yet — with her, everything seemed to calm. He met her gaze firmly, even as his own hand trembled lightly on her chin.
The words spilled out of him easily, as if they’d always been there, sitting on the tip of his tongue. “It’s just you and me. We are in this together and I want it all.”
Her eyes bore into his and she gently, slowly, took his hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek even as she sniffled. “You promise that?” she whispered, and Eris felt the breath nearly choke out of him at the sight of his hand on her face, at the feel of her skin still healing beneath his touch, that she had deliberately put it there herself.
“I promise.” he swore hoarsely, his thumb caressing reverently. “I know I broke my word today but I —”
“I know why you weren’t there. I knew he had something to do with it.” she said gently and shook her head. “I don’t blame you at all.”
“I’m sorry.” he mumbled and the familiar feeling of self-loathing began to fester in his chest. “I should’ve been — I was supposed to —”
Iris shook her head once more and took a breath. She tilted her head back, resting both of his hands in her lap once more, and blinked rapidly before sniffling then meeting his eyes again.
“This is why I am the way I am.” she mumbled. “The only thing I know how to do is fight, even when I am at my weakest. Even when I won’t win. He’s stifled me my whole life. Whether it’s through his words or his fists, all he ever did was bring me down. All I’ve known is this anger.” she bit her lip and quickly wiped angrily at a stray tear that fell. “For a while, I listened, let him do whatever he wanted without saying a word. I followed all his rules, all his requests...but then I realized whether I fought against him or not, his punishment was the same. He relished it.”
Her mouth twisted in disgust. “I was the enemy from the moment I took my first breath and it got worse and worse as I aged. He acts that way because he can. Because he has all the power to do so.” she said. She looked at Eris, then looked down at their hands in her lap, where he had started rubbing soothingly again. “With you...I expected a similar situation...but you could hurt me differently. You could hurt me a lot. In fact, I’m sure he counted on it.” she said with a hollow laugh. “But instead...you’re the first person to ever defend me. To actually listen to me and give me a chance. To ever show that you — you care.”
Eris watched her and pain wrapped itself around his wretched heart as she spoke because oh gods, did he care.
“Of course, I care.” he said tightly and then swallowed. “I — I know I’m not the most graceful with my words and I’m an ass most of the time but — Iris. You’re my wife. You’re — you’re my friend. Of course, I care.”
Iris met his eyes and then looked down at their hands once more. She took a breath and then met his gaze once more. “Well…that’s a relief, I suppose. Because I — I care about you too.” she said more shyly than she’d ever been with him. “And I want you to know that I am not afraid of your hands. You are my friend. You are my husband. I am not afraid of you.”
Eris closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath at her words then looked down at their hands, now intertwined.
“Those words…” he began then blew out a breath. “They mean more than you know.”
The corner of her mouth lifted for a moment. “What you did today means more than you know.”
“One word.” he vowed. “Just one — and I will gladly wipe him from existence.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
Eris’s eyes roamed her face, wanting to say more — wanting to do more. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted so desperately, it hurt. But her bruises were still fresh and she still winced when she moved and Eris would be damned if he caused her any more discomfort.
What she clearly needed was some rest, some time to collect herself, and maybe some food. She didn’t need him pawing at her like one of his hounds. He was barely keeping it together as is.
“Why don’t you freshen up and get some rest?” he suggested, letting his thumb run across her hand one more time. “I will let Lucien and Elain know not to expect us today. We’ll go another time.”
“No!” Iris said, straightening with a wince. “I still want to go.”
Eris arched a brow and gave her a pointed look. “Are you sure? I want you to feel your best when we go.”
Though she flushed, she firmly squeezed his hands and gave him a pleading look. “I won’t let him ruin anything else for me. I’ve been looking forward to this and we still have time before we have to leave. I want to go.”
He realized again, as she gazed at him, that he would likely never refuse a request from her. Never put her in a position where she had to plead with him.
And oh, did Eris Vanserra realize how incredibly fucked he was when he sucked in a breath and then simply said, “Then we will go.”
Iris nodded as her shoulders sagged in relief then bit the corner of her lip, glancing at him and then down at their hands. “Before we go...do you think we can see the hounds for a moment?” she asked quietly. “They make me feel better.”
Eris gave her a small smile then squeezed her hands as she looked back at him. “Of course,” he said. “They make me feel better too.”
Iris shared a small smile with him and Eris watched her swallow, surprising him by leaning in closer. Eris froze and held his breath as she met his gaze then looked away, delighting him by placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. He hardly blinked, watching her slowly stand, her cheeks burning.
“Thank you.” she said softly. “I hope that was alright.”
It took him a minute to process the feeling of her lips on his skin. To hold himself back from pouncing on her to demand he feel those lips again elsewhere. “Very.” he said roughly. “It is always alright with you.”
Iris’s gaze dropped to her feet and the air between them seemed to shift. Despite the circumstances, despite what happened, it buzzed pleasantly.
“I’m — I’m going to go change.” she said, and again Eris noted that shyness in her tone again. A side of her he was definitely not used to.
“I’ll be right here.” he confirmed and with a small lift of her lips, she turned, heading towards their bathroom. She paused once, right in front of the same spot with the flecked blood and Eris watched her swallow hard before she hurried into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her.
He let out a breath, sagging against the couch, and closed his eyes momentarily.
Eris realized with alarming clarity, the depth of his feelings for her. He had felt this pull towards her gradually from the moment she threw that chair at him their first night together. But this constant desire to see her happy, to be the one to make her happy, to protect, to care for. He had certainly never felt like this before.
He ran shaky fingers through his hair, pulling at a lock to stare at it. He had woken up this morning instantly wanting to cut his hair — just because she had suggested it — because she liked the idea of him with shorter hair. The thought had made his body lock up in bed, knowing he would. He realized he would do just about anything for her.
And that — that terrified him. Because Eris wasn’t foolish. He had guessed at this emotion — this attachment, but it was with no confirmation and so he buried it deep enough to ignore it. Yet...he kept sinking around her.
Eris glanced at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of running water.
She was his wife. His friend. His partner. And today only solidified that he wouldn’t let a single thing harm her again. He’d kill it. Consequences be damned.
~
When Iris had finally emerged from the bathroom, freshened, and in a new dress, Eris was immaculate once more and already had the room cleaned and organized, with a tray of light snacks waiting on the table for her.
She paused at the threshold of their bathroom door and tried not to stare at him for too long, wondering how she would clamp down on the intensity of what she was feeling at the moment. He had nearly killed her father. Because of her. For her. He had not hesitated a single moment and Iris was nearly overwhelmed by the surge of emotion that hit her as she watched him shift the tray slightly, his back still to her.
When Iris had stepped into the bathroom and finally allowed the tears she’d been holding back to fall, Eris’s lingering touch had been the one to keep her from crumbling completely. She cried silently as she stripped the day dress she had been wearing and the tears continued to fall as she looked in the bathroom mirror to see the bruises. She let the tears continue as she washed away the ghost of her father’s hands and the sound of his hateful words, just as she had done every other time this happened over the years.
She let herself process and only when she could take a deep breath without tearing up, did she let herself heal her bruises, watching in the mirror as she began to slowly fix herself, as easily as the deep breath she took. It was thanks to Eris that she could master it enough to do it so easily. It was thanks to him that her father hadn’t done worse this time. It was thanks to him her father would hopefully never do it again.
The image of Eris’s wrath being unleashed on the person she hated most had filled her with a sense of vindication like no other. She hadn’t feared him for a moment. Only could watch as he raged for her.
Until he threw her father out. Until it hit her that Eris had seen what others had never seen on her.
Iris watched him now, fidgeting still with the tray and she looked down as her face flushed, biting her lip. Her eyes flicked to the now clean floor where the blood of her father had been spilled and she took a deep breath. She was fine. It would be okay.
She did not want his pity and he would not be the one to pity her.
So Iris sat with him at the table as he silently moved the tray towards her, watching her take a small bite. She had no appetite but with the intense way he watched her, she knew Eris wouldn’t budge until he was sure she ate something. So she indulged him.
Just as she had finally indulged in giving him a chaste kiss.
He continued to watch her as she finished, swatting her hand away with a scowl when she attempted to clean up, and shooed her away silently as he took over. She felt his eyes on her as she put the finishing touches on her dress, as she styled her hair, and much to Iris’s amusement, Eris continued to watch her intensely as they left the room and made their way to the hounds, his grip on her tightening whenever they passed others.
But she said nothing and he said nothing, only holding her closer against him, their hands interlaced the whole way.
A far cry from where the two had started.
Her heart beat wildly at how much she liked the way he watched her. His eyes didn’t watch her with pity or disdain. His gaze was a claiming, a look filled with emotions as mixed as her own.
And Iris knew without saying a word, Eris felt the whirlwind of feelings she was experiencing.
As they slipped into the kennel, Iris squeezed his hand gently and Eris reluctantly let her go, clasping his hands behind his back so she wouldn’t see his twiddling fingers. As the minutes passed and Eris watched Iris coo and cuddle with their hounds, he felt exceedingly pathetic as he physically restrained himself from touching her. Whatever cool, calm, and annoying demeanor he usually had vanished completely.
“Are you going to keep watching me like that?” Iris asked him quietly, a small smile on her face as she sat between the hounds, petting as they nuzzled into her enthusiastically. “I’m alright, you know.”
Eris gave her a half-smile. “I can’t help it that I find you incredibly breathtaking, wife.” he said with a shrug as Lyra came to nudge his side. His hand slid to scratch behind her ear. “Do you not want me to look at you?”
Iris bit her lip then slowly stood, turning towards Eris and he straightened at her solemn expression.
“You’re looking at me because you’re worried.” she said quietly and when he opened his mouth to respond, Iris held up a hand and then moved closer to him. “What happened between my father and I is something that I have had to, unfortunately, deal with for years but...I have learned to handle it as best as I can. To do what I can for myself and keep moving forward, even as he’s tried to paralyze him by his mere presence.” Iris closed her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath then exhaled softly, her expression easing as she looked at him. “I don’t want to give him any more power to dwell in my mind or to ruin anything else for me so please, don’t keep looking at me like I’m going to break. I think you, of all people, would understand this…I don’t want to think about him or anything that has to do with him anymore.”
Eris scanned her face and her stance as she spoke, her words mirroring so much of his own thoughts about his wretched father. He understood more than she’d realized.
He held out his hands and Iris raised a brow before slowly sliding her hands into his. “I want to make sure you’re alright. That is all.” he said quietly, and Iris gave him a small smile.
“Is it?” she asked. “You once told me not to pity you when it comes to your father and I told you that I expect the same from you.”
Eris’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I do not pity you. There is absolutely nothing to be pitied when it comes to you.” he muttered, and Iris squeezed his hands. “I look at you because I care about you and want to make sure you’re fine. I am a bastard in many ways but not when it comes to my duties. And it is my duty to pay attention to you.”
Her expression softened and Eris was thankful she looked away from him so she wouldn’t see his hard swallow at his own words. When she looked at him again, he squeezed her hands.
“You’re alright?” he asked.
“I am alright.” she confirmed softly and the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Then please note that at this moment, I am looking at you because I am simmering with carnal desire.” he teased gently. “No other reason whatsoever.”
“Ah, so your true intentions have emerged,” she said with a soft chuckle. “Please husband, you’ll scandalize the puppies.”
“Not puppies.” he replied, his lips twitching.
Eris simply watched her with a small smile that Iris shyly returned and once again, said nothing more. Last night in each other’s arms had certainly shifted things between them but he wasn’t sure if he could handle any more of the feelings he was failing miserably to push down.
His wretched heart leaped into his throat when she stepped back, then interlaced their fingers again, the gesture so comfortable and normal, it made Eris’s throat tighten. His heart continued to thump wildly as they said goodbye to his hounds and made their way to the winnowing point, his mind whirling a thousand thoughts a minute.
“Do you have Lucien’s letter from your mother?” she asked quietly. “And our house gift?”
“I have the letter and sent the gift ahead.”
“Did you write a nice note?” she asked him and Eris couldn’t stop staring at her face, scrunched in all seriousness. “I didn’t get a chance to.”
“Yes.” he answered, distracted momentarily by how she bit her lip and then cleared his throat. “I said it was from you to Elain specifically and that Lucien can choke on a dick.”
Iris stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes. “You did not.”
Eris smirked as his eyes locked on her face and gave her a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll see for yourself when we get there.”
Iris shot him a glare and the look was one he was so used to, he couldn’t help but tilt his head back with a laugh. He pulled her closer into his side as he grinned down at her but Iris only squinted at him.
“You’re so annoying.”
“I know.”
“Sometimes I really can’t stand you.”
“I know that too.”
Iris rolled her eyes then gently knocked her shoulder against him and Eris’s mouth tilted up, all the feelings in his chest unfurling. He couldn’t stop staring at her. He also really felt like vomiting.
“If you know you’re being annoying and that I can’t really stand you, why do you behave the way that you do?” she asked, pursing her lips and Eris chuckled at her failed attempt to hide a smile.
“Don’t pretend you aren’t obsessed with how magnificent I am, wife. I can see the lust in your eyes.” he said quietly, his free hand threading a loose curl between his fingers and then tugging on it gently. “Will you be able to control yourself while we winnow or will I need to get myself a shield for additional protection?”
“You’re the one who looks like you’re going to faint every time I touch you.” she mumbled and scrunched her nose, avoiding his gaze when he chuckled again.
“It must be the witchcraft in your touch.” he replied and held out his hand.
Iris’s lips twitched as she met his gaze, sliding her hand into his and said, “Maybe one day I’ll put a spell on that mouth of yours to get some peace and quiet.”
“And go a moment without hearing my voice? Why do you insist on making things so difficult for yourself?” Eris tsked with a raised brow and Iris rolled her eyes.
“Too cocky for your own good, prince.”
“Confident just the right amount I’d say, my lady.”
Iris shook her head with a small smile, but she didn’t look away from him and Eris couldn’t look away from her if he tried. He thought back to their first night together and how he had craved something normal then. How unexpected it had come. How delightful it was. A simple joy he had not experienced...in so long. A joy he wasn’t sure he rightly deserved but would latch on to with everything he had.
“Ready to see the Day Court?” he finally asked and Iris smiled at him.
“Oh yes.” she began and Eris stilled as she faced him, her free hand smoothing a nonexistent crease on his shirt. “But before we go, I need to give you something.”
Eris arched a brow and tried not to be too distracted by how much of her body was touching his. How right she felt, holding his hand and looking up at him with such an open look in her eyes. Her bruises had faded completely but only because he was looking for them, did he still see the shadows of them and tried to hold back his anger from flaring up.
He focused on her eyes instead.
“Yes, wife?” he murmured, and Iris squeezed his hand before slipping it free, sliding both hands down the fabric of her plum-colored dress instead. Eris’s eyes followed her hands and he took in the cinched waist of the dress, tied with a pretty bow in the middle — the delicate sleeves, the modest cut of her cleavage that gave him a small tease. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding a hand to gently tug on the bow, looking up just in time to see Iris’s flushed face giving him a knowing look.
“Focus.”
“I am very focused.”
“On what I would like to say, please.” she said with amusement. “You can tug on the bow all you like, it’s not going to budge.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it.” He said with a smirk but obediently let his hands fall back to his side.
Iris only rolled her eyes. “I look presentable, then?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as Eris looked up to meet her gaze. “You look beautiful.” he said simply.
Iris flushed and bit her lip, looking down to where his hands rested at his sides then slowly, carefully, she moved them to settle on her hips instead. Iris’s hands slowly moved to settle on his chest and Eris felt his heart short circuit. “Before I give you this something I want to give, I would like to tell you something.” she whispered with a little smile.
“Tell me what?” he asked helplessly and he couldn’t take his eyes off her stunning face, off those beautiful hooded hazel eyes that seemed to look into his very soul.
“I wanted to tell you again...thank you.” she said and the little shy smile blessed her face once more. “For defending me.”
Eris swallowed, his eyes drinking in the sight of her stunning face. He could only murmur, “Nothing to thank for. I only did as a husband should.”
“And for being my friend.” she added softly, the smile still there as his heart thumped too loudly.
“I’m — I’m happy to be your friend, Iris.” he said with a small smile of his own, his hands tightening on her waist.
“I am happy to be yours too, Eris.” she replied with a small chuckle and if possible, moved into him closer. “Even though you are very obnoxious, and I was very prepared to hate you for as long as possible.”
Eris let out a choked laugh, tightening his hold on her. “Can’t blame you, my reputation precedes me.”
“I do recall you saying it was catered to a specific audience,” she said, spreading her fingers across this chest. “I don’t think I’m part of that category anymore.”
“You never were.” he said with a chuckle. “You did just say you like being my friend.”
Iris’s gaze dropped to her hands then flickered back to meet his. “I do.” she said quietly. “But I think — I think I’m ready to be a little more than that with you.”
Eris felt the air leave his body, barely blinked — barely had a moment to hear what she said as the only warning he received was the mischievous glint in her eyes before her hands curled into the front of his tunic and she yanked him down to her, her lips finally, finally meeting his.
He felt the world tilt, wondering if he had stumbled into a daydream until Iris leaned into him more firmly, pressing her body into him, and the soft noise that slipped from her lips had Eris’s body unlocking immediately.
And gods, if she wasn’t the most divine creature he had the pleasure of kissing. Kissing her ignited every ember of fire in his heart, his heart that was dangerously close to bursting out of his damn chest. Eris let her lead for a moment, let her nip at his lips as her fingers tightened into his tunic and he let her pull away for a second — just to breathe — so he could look into her eyes and her flushed face — ensuring that indeed, this wasn’t some kind of strange hallucination.
And then Eris was on her.
Her full lips were soft, welcoming to his own and Eris groaned at the taste of her. He leaned into her desperately, a hand cupping the back of her head while the other rested on her lower back as he dipped her slightly, pouring himself into the kiss and Iris returned it with a fervor he would be delighted to think about later.
He kissed her and she kissed him, the heated claiming saying all the words they wished to say but couldn’t just yet. A kiss that seemed to soothe all the jagged ends of his soul. A kiss where their jaded spirits met their tired bones.
And it was as he pulled her closer into him, drunk on the taste of her lips did he feel the thread between them, thumping in his bloodstream. The same thread he had seen before, that he now understood had woven around his wretched heart. The thread that pulled.
It hummed the one word he had been waiting for — Mate.
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aanxiousangel · 2 days
Text
𝘝𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 2 {𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘗 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳}
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - I do not allow MY work to be used or adapted in any way.
notes: it's my first somewhat-graphic smut. do i like it? no, but it's only because i feel awkward posting graphic wording- i'll get better <3 i take requests btw <3 and i hope you enjoy & thank you for all the love <3
triggers/tags: smut, relationship, face fucking, stressed!Keegan (i'm not sure what else to put :'))
𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀: @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
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You made the right decision. The best decision of your life. For the rest of the vacation, Keegan showered you with affection. Kisses, cuddles, even flowers. His arms were constantly wrapped around your waist, having you sit in his lap whether it be in public or at the renthouse. Every night, he ended up in your bed just to sleep in your arms. Every moment was savored.
The goodbyes were bittersweet even if everyone would eventually meet up because of work. Keegan kept his face buried in your neck until it was time to leave.
“I promise, I’ll come see you as soon as everything gets situated,” you whispered against his cheek.
Every passing second since the two of you parted ways was agony. Keegan was more than stressed. Training and keeping himself busy during work was an understatement. Though you two were deployed together, the relationship had to be kept under constant wraps. It meant keeping away from each other, acting like the usual pair you were.
Seeing you across from him during meetings, sneaking subtle glances only enhanced the desperation. 
One night, it all came crashing down. Keegan had been in the training room, wrapped fists slamming into a punching bag. Sweat drizzled down his face, further pissing him off. He let out a grunt with a final punch and wiped his face aggressively.
This is bullshit. He huffed as he pulled out his phone and your message thread. Rereading the sweet messages from you made him take a deep breath as he sent the message he’d been fighting off for the last month.
Meet me in the locker room. Now.
You jumped, the notification bell unexpected so late at night. Your eyes lit up as you dropped your phone back onto your bed and darted out silently. Gentle footsteps were the only thing that echoed in the dim halls as you made your way to the training gym.
Relief washed over you as the gym revealed itself to be empty. A soft echo of a running shower led you right to him. The closer you got, the clearer you could make out his grunts and groans. Mild adrenaline pumped through your veins as you moved to the showers.
“Fuck,” his voice was low and strained, his head leaned back against the tiles. “Fuck, Y/N-”
“Keegan?” Your voice slithered into his ears, making his eyes narrow in on you.
The way he stalked through the steam made goosebumps prick your skin, “Baby, I can’t take–”
The drop took him by surprise. He looked down at you, furrowing his brows in confusion. You brushed your lips against his tip before he could say another word. A weakened breath escaped him as you enveloped him in the warmth of your mouth. His jaw clenched as he grasped a handful of your hair, relentlessly fucking into your throat.
Your eyes twitched and burned with tears as he hit your gag reflex. Nails dug into his thighs as your eyes fought to look up at him. His head rolled from being tilted back to look at you, mouth open as he panted.
“Goddamn, don’t look–” Keegan sucked in a sharp inhale, “Don’t look at me like that, baby.”
What he saw was your hallucinating eyes, wet lashes, and pretty lips hungrily sucking him in.
Your choked noises were muffled by his cock cutting off your oxygen. His movements quickly grew sloppy as he finished in your throat, shuddering as he climaxed. You trembled and fell forward with a shaky gasp for oxygen. Panting and still craving more, you looked up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks.
“Keegan–”
“Up.” His command was firm with no room for denial.
His hands worked quickly, removing your entire outfit from your body. He threw the articles of clothing away from the showers. Keegan lifted your figure into his arm, pressing hot kisses to your throat with mumbled apologies.
“Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered desperately against you, hands massaging your thighs.
“Kee–” Your words were cut by a sharp yelp as the tiles shocked your skin with ice.
“I promise,” Keegan groaned, his tip brushing your folds as his hips bucked, “I promise I’ll give you mindblowin’ head soon, baby. I fuckin’ promise.”
Your back arched instinctively against him, crying out at the sudden intrusion. His cock felt different now that it was buried deep inside you versus your poor throat. The stretch was unlike anything you’ve ever toyed around with.
“S-slow! Keegan, wait–” You begged desperately as his thrusts were brutalizing your cunt.
“T-tryin’,” he growled against your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the soft muscle of your shoulder.
At least he was honest. Though, he couldn’t help himself. The way you took him in, the velvety feeling of your walls, threatening to milk him of everything he had. Hips bucked ruthlessly, his soaked skin slapping against yours just enough to sting. Keegan’s lips traveled all along your neck and shoulders, leaving whatever mark he could. The only reason he didn’t shove his tongue down your throat was because he needed to hear you.
“Mine,” Keegan grunted against your jaw.
That made your toes curl. His claim. Pure and sinful claims. When you moaned, he fisted another handful of hair, making you look at him. Sweat mixed with the steam’s condensation on his skin. His lips were swollen and parted as he heaved.
“You understand, baby? All fuckin’ mine,” Keegan observed your fucked-out expression as he made sure to puncture you deep and calculated.
“Y-yes, sir.” Your whimpers slipped out as you kept your heavy eyes on him.
“Sir?” His lips curled into a grin. “Attagirl.”
The way his voice caressed your senses drove you mad. It was breaking you down slowly. The combination of him observing exactly how to fuck you like a god and his voice never letting up with the noises. That was becoming your favorite thing. How insanely vocal he was.
“Want you,” Keegan hissed, coming close to his second climax of the night, “forever, baby.”
“Promise?” You gasped out, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach.
“Promise,” his hand moved to cup your face, leaning closer to you. “Fuckin’ swear on my life. I’m yours, baby.”
That did it. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open. Keegan’s eyes widened as he heard the most angelic sound slip past your lips. You moaning his name. Your legs locked around him, stomach tightening as you climaxed around his cock that still chased after his next high.
Keegan shuddered, hips bucking against you. The sensitivity levels on your clit were higher than a video game. [ha, get it?] You cried desperately, begging him to cum.
“Don’t pull out,” your plea made his brain go fuzzy.
In that moment, you could’ve made him do anything you damn well pleased.
“D-dangerous fuckin’ game–” Keegan tried to argue but the control slipped. Oops?
His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, an animalistic sound escaping him as he finished inside of you. Deep inside of you. His movements stopped the moment he bottomed out. His body jerked, trembling as his cock kissed your cervix.
A euphoric exhaustion washed over him. It was a dizzying feeling. Keegan refused to release you from his grip–let alone pull out.
Silence lingered between the two of you for a few moments. Eventually, you picked up your head to look at him. Keegan’s head dropped against the wall behind him gently to look at you.
Your hands were gentle as you caressed his face, wiping away sweat from his face. It shocked him for a moment. The gentle touch. It was quite unlike you in the past. Lately, you were this softhearted girl when you used to be a dog that growled and snapped at anyone who grew much too close.
“What’s wrong?” Your voice was soft, revealing how much his brutal pace affected you.
“You’ve gone…soft.” Keegan mumbled.
“Tch,” you blushed as you looked away. “Your fault.”
“Good,” he smirked. “At least you like me.”
Keegan caught your wrists as you went to try and smack his shoulders. You fussed at him, telling him he needed a shower. Keegan continued teasing you until the end of your shower together. He really was the best choice.
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aleksanderscult · 3 days
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so. First of all I love your blog. Seriously I think you are one of the person who have comman sense in this fandom. I like everything you post. While scrolling through Tumblr I came across the usual anti darkling post ( he is groomer , murderer etc etc ) i did the thing I usually do when I came across such thing : I skip. A tag caught my eye. I don't remember but it's say something like : the only reason you like him is that he is Ben Barnes if darkling is a girl you couldn't like him. Which made me think what if darkling was a girl and alina as a boy. I just image a sexy hot black hair women with pale skin and grey eyes and morozova genes. Which..........is enough to made me think if I am a Bi 🤔. That image has not left me for a week and my dreams. So my question is
What do you think might happen if darkling is a girl and alina is a boy. How might the events of SaB and SaS will be affected. And m*lina too,of mal is a girl too. You thoughts 🤔
Thank you so much, anon! It makes me happy to know that others enjoy my blog and content. 😍
First of all about what that anti said: I personally didn't like Ben Barnes as the Darkling so it obviously doesn't apply. And even if the Darkling was a girl I would still root for her. I root for any character that fights for something better, for a positive change to happen among such oppression. And I think that's one of the major reasons his fans love him as well.
Now about your question: Boy, I would love to see that. I was always attracted to dangerous women, especially the ones that combine beauty and slyness (like Milady in "The Musketeers" or Morgana from "Merlin" post season 2).
But I don't think the story would be affected that much with the only exception that Alina in a male form would probably not be slut shamed for his attraction to the Darkling (in this version she would be called Aleksandra which is a fact that I love!)
The Darkling would remain an interesting character but, God, does that mean that Alina as a man would still avoid his duties?? 😭
And Mal as a girl. She would obviously be popular and well-liked by everyone but imagine that: she would sleep around with many guys and then attack her best friend for falling in love with a girl that isn't her. Well, for one thing it doesn't stick. You see if Mal as a girl fucked around then she would be called a whore (just like Alina was indirectly called one by Mal for wanting Aleksander) while in the original story when Mal did that no one raised a single eyebrow. So we live in a fictional world where if you do that as a guy then you're okay but if you're a girl then you should be called a prostitute. And Leigh had Mal get away with his behavior so she was more willing to let Mal pass with his sexist behavior than the Darkling who had enough and tried to put end to his people slaughter for good.
Anyway, I believe Mal's character would change a lot if he was a girl (primarily his fuckboy nature because the author doesn't allow a girl to have sexual liberation in her books) and I have a feeling she would be boring (again). And I don't think she would be a tracker?
Alina as a man wouldn't be slut shamed (because he's a man 🤷) but he would still avoid the Darkling. Nevertheless the chemistry would be off the charts. And the Darkling would slay like always. She would be the personification of femme fatale but her goal would be selfless and true like always. For some reason, I imagine her as a very seductive figure (although my wishful thinking might be speaking here).
The real question here is how the relationship between the Darkling as a girl and her mother, Baghra would be. Would Baghra want a daughter in the first place but she got stuck with Aleksandra because it was her only child that shared her powers? Or if Baghra had no problem with her child's sex, would she still be that possessive and controlling over her?
My own answer is yes and Baghra would most definitely leave a trauma to the Darkling even if she was a girl. That woman has no parenting skills in any universe. Just like I can't see the Darkling be anything else other than a fighter and a survivor in any other scenario.
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jungle-angel · 9 hours
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The One With The Fertility Field (Rhett Abbott x Reader)
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Summary: You and Rhett decide to have some fun in the back field but you have no idea that it's been the Abbott family fuck spot for generations
Warnings: Smut, implied smut, several generations of fucking, trying for a kid, pet discipline etc.
Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @sebsxphia
You moaned loudly as Rhett thrust himself in and out of you, attacking your neck, his animalistic grunting and groaning obscene as it married together with your own noises.
"C'mon baby," he growled. "C'mon I know you've got it in ya, c'mon and cum for daddy!"
His big hands pawed along your thighs and with one more thrust, you both released onto and into each other, panting and out of breath as you came to rest, one on top of the other.
"Holy fuck," Rhett panted. "You're amazing baby."
You giggled a little as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, letting you rest against him.
************************************
Cecelia quietly sang along to "Mule Skinner Blues" as it played from the little bluetooth speaker on the counter near the coffee machine. Dinner prep may not have been hers or anyone's favorite part of the day, but at least she had some time to herself and could enjoy most of the peace and quiet before everyone came in for the night.
The peace and quiet was suddenly broken by the opening of a door and the sudden barking of a small dog in the living room. "Hey!" Cecelia shouted. "Shut the fuck up Alberto! You're ok."
Alberto, the little black and tan chihuahua dog leapt from the couch to go and beg for scritches from Royal who hung his hat on the hook and kicked off his boots near the rack.
"Somethin smells pretty good sugar bear," he remarked, Alberto's barking having reached fever pitch.
"Here," Cecelia said, handing him the cardboard paper towel roll. "Use this if you need to."
Luckily, Royal only had to snap his fingers and the little dog sat right down, his little batlike ears pricking straight up and his tail thumping on the floor. "Quit bein a little turd Alberto, nobody wants to hear it," Royal told him.
Alberto yawned and followed him into the kitchen, hopping up onto one of the seats as Royal wrapped his arms around Cecelia and kissed her cheek. "Any idea where (y/n) and Rhett are at?" he asked.
"Nope," Cecelia answered. "Last I heard they were goin for a ride into town and haven't seen head or tail of'em since."
With those last words, the door creaked open and shut once again, Alberto's barking starting again. "Alberto! For shit's sake, knock it off!" Rhett ordered. "I will stick ya'll downstairs so fuckin fast......!"
Alberto finally quit his yapping when you came over to give him scritches behind the ears. You went upstirs to wash up for dinner, hobbling and limping just a little bit, the same going for Rhett.
"You two ok?" Cecelia asked, trying to hide the smile that threatened to crawl across her face.
"M'fine, Ma," Rhett answered. "Why?"
"Well for one thing you and (y/n) were walkin a little funny."
"Walked into a fencepost in the back field Ma," Rhett told her.
"Sure ya did," Royal chuckled as he stirred the pot of meatballs simmering in the marinara sauce. "There ain't no fence near there and hasn't been since the day your Ma and I moved here."
"Wait, which field?" Cecelia asked Rhett.
"Um......the back one near the river towards the north pasture," Rhett answered hesitantly.
Cecelia's eyes went wide and Royal started laughing. "Oh my God," he laughed. "No way, ain't no fuckin way ya'll walked into a fencepost."
"Dad what the hell's so funny?" Rhett asked him.
"Rhett that field was the same field your Ma and I did the nasty in when we were tryin to have you?"
"OH MY GOD!!! DAD WHY??? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS???!!!!!" Rhett blurted out.
"I'm tellin ya because that's where at least four generations of Abbotts were conceived," Royal told him. "Including you and Perry."
"Perry wasn't conceived there," Cecelia reminded him.
"He wasn't?" Royal asked.
"Nah, Perry was conceived in the back seat of your '76 Firebird," Cecelia told him. "I remember because that was the night we went to the drive-in to see 'Conan The Barbarian.'"
"Oh fucking damnit," Rhett said, making a gagging noise.
"What's going on down here?" you asked. "Did I miss something."
"Nope, nope, change of subject," Rhett answered.
"Oh we were just tellin Rhett that ya'll might've stumbled on mine and Royal's favorite fuck spot," Cecelia answered.
You shrieked a little, laughing at the traumatized and exasperated look on your husband's face. The four of you had a good laugh about it over dinner, not daring to say a word in front of Amy lest she repeat it outside of the house.
Yet Royal and Cecelia hadn't been wrong when they had said that a little adventure in the so called "fertility field" would work, for a few days later, you and Rhett were all too happy to find out that Amy would be the proudest big sister in Wabang.
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junkmailmusubi · 29 days
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tunes to get a good night's sleep to
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the-acid-pear · 1 year
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I dreamt RT rated character that had been pregnant, spiraling into a bit where the old man from Up talked to the kid, who was now a grown adult, who also called him dad (there was a subtitle saying this was 100% canon) and idk the exact words but he got mad because the kid supported capitalism now so he said "i need to make another one..." and called his new wife i guess. Woke up before seeing the sex scene sadly.
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iniziare · 1 year
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Me yesterday: Having lost my Onenote notebook is fine, I’ll get to organize better and even update my old tags I wasn’t updating because I already had some so I could be lazy... Me this morning: Screw that, actually. Youtube this afternoon: Embrace your dreams. And, whatever happens... protect your honor... as a SOLDIER! Me now: 😭😭 Okay, I’ll do it for you, only because it’s you. I’ll do it a thousand times over.
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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i. deer dolly
part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love
"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"
"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"
“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”
“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”
"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"
"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."
Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."
Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."
"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him. 
Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~" 
Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"
Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."
Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."
"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.
Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."
"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."
“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”
Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."
“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”
"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”
.
Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town. 
A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.
It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.
Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers." 
Charming. 
With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman. 
Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow. 
As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.
"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"
"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"
‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'
"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”
Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."
Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.
"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.
Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.
Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.
"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.
The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.
Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.
As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"
Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"
"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.
In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.
Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale
The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.
He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.
She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around
As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.
“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.
Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.
The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.
"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”
With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.
‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.
Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.
There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features. 
“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile. 
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.
"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.
Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "
"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."
A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.
"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"
"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."
Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."
“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.
With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.
Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead. 
This man could fucking dance.
As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.
"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.
"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."
After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.
"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.
Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."
While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.
As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose. 
What were you doing to him?
"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"
Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.
"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.
Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."
Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.
Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.
However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.
"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."
Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.
Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.
"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout. 
"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."
Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"
He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.
"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"
“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.
“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.
Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."
You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."
Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.
"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said. 
Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.
"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.
With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit. 
Yes, he shall see you very soon.
Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."
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fairy-angel222 · 2 months
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—gojo’s single and geto’s a good friend. good friends share everything.. including girlfriends
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pairing: gojo x fem! reader x geto
content: crack, smut, threesome, praise, cum eating (gojo), pussy eating, blowjobs, cream pie, throat bulge, throat fucking, tag team, playful banter, squirting
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Geto thinks he’s a great friend. Being willing to share his precious girlfriend with his best friend. He’s seen the way Gojo looks at you. And he’s not mad, no, he’s quite happy. It makes using you as a gift so much easier— especially when he knows you get wet at just the thought of a threesome with the white haired man.
“I am not lonely. I could go get a quick fuck right now if i wanted too.” Gojo defended, taking another gulp of the beer in his hand as he leaned back into the couch.
“Hmm, i smell lies, you’re very lonely this season.” you teased, giggling softly when Gojo glared at you with the flip of his middle finger. You gasped dramatically, turning to Geto with a pout, “Baby your friend just flipped me off.”
Geto simply smiled at you with the shake of his head, taking a quick swig of his drink before he was wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Pulling you into him and placing an especially wet kiss onto your head. “Don’t disrespect my girl bro.” He joked along, Gojo only scoffing before flipping him off too. “I’m being targeted by weirdos. Great.”
“Weirdos who aren’t single. Can’t relate now can you?” you retorted with a grin. Gojo finally letting out a chuckle, “Ya got me there.” downing the remaining contents of the bottle. “I’m gonna get another one, you guys want any?” he questioned, standing up to head to the kitchen.
“Oo, yes please.” you piped in cheerily, Geto’s head snapping towards you with an eyebrow raised. “Uh, no. She’ll just have a coke or something. But i’ll take one.” Geto corrected.
Gojo nodded, making his way past the dining area and into the kitchen to open the fridge.
Geto winced lightly when you pinched his side. “Why can’t i have one?” you whined. Geto pinching your cheeks with a faux frown, “because your alcohol tolerance is too damn low.” You simply huffed, fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of your boyfriend’s sweater.
“So, is it still happening?” you questioned in a whisper, a smirk forming on your boyfriend’s face as he brought the bottle to his lips to empty it out. “Mhm.”
Gojo came strolling back into the room with two opened drinks and a cherry flavored soft drink. And you fought the urge to roll your eyes when he handed one bottle to Geto and the red colored drink to you. A smile on his face as he bit back his teasing words about Geto not letting you drink alcohol.
Geto cleared his throat, setting down the drink and placing his hand on your thigh. Squeezing as he travelled it higher and higher, his breath hot on your ear when he leaned in. “That’s your queue baby.”
Your face heated up, watching as Gojo raised an eyebrow across from you, taking a swig at his drink after mumbling “fucking weirdos i swear.”
Getting off your seat, you bit at your lip as you looked back at Geto. Your boyfriend only giving you a reassuring nod before his drink was at his lips, watching as you almost shyly walked up to Gojo.
Sitting yourself on his lap with practically no warning making the man’s eyes widen. “What are you-” being cut off by your lips on his, your ass lightly grinding on his cock as you gripped his shirt. Gojo’s eyes met Geto’s in panic, the latter simply tilting his head, “Better enjoy it while you can.”
Gojo groaned, your hands slipping under his shirt to run your nails over his hard abs. Slowly bringing them down until you stopped at the bulge in his sweats, groping it through the fabric before smiling as you pulled away. “You’re already hard?” you giggled.
“Shut up.” His face flushing red as you got off of his lap, situating yourself on your knees between his legs. Your hands working to pull his pants down mid thigh, your head in his crotch as you licked a strike along his cock through his underwear. Looking up at him through your lashes before freeing him from the thin black fabric
Gojo nearly choked on his spit, watching as you ran your thumb over his tip. Collecting glistening precum before using it to stroke him, circling your wrist while you moved it up and down. “S-shit.”
Your eyes met his cock with a hard swallow at the length. Taking in a breath before sucking him into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around his leaking tip then taking him in deeper. Bobbing your head up and down as your drool coated his veiny skin.
You could hear Geto standing up behind you, reaching your kneeling frame in two large steps before his hand was stroking your hair. “She’s good ain’t she?”
Gojo only letting out a cracked moan as he nodded. Geto’s hand suddenly grabbing hold of your hair to quicken the pace of your mouth. “But trust me, she can be better.” Roughly pushing you to take Gojo down your throat before pulling you back up again. Repeating the process as you slobbered onto the man’s dick with muffled moans.
Your eyes pooled with water each time your boyfriend forced you to take his best friend all the way. Gojo’s cock bulging in your throat as your nose pressed at his base. “See that?” Geto hummed.
Gojo’s mouth hung open in breathy grunts as he began thrusting his hips upwards. Head falling back onto the back of the couch with his breathing speeding up. Basking in the way his best friend used your warm mouth to fuck his twitching cock. “F-fucking hell— ahh.”
“Good girl” Geto dragged out. “gonna make him cum already.” he praised, “Wonder how long it has been since he’s felt a pretty girl’s lips on his cock.”
Gojo grunted, “f-fuck o-off, shit—” a loud groan sounding in his throat when he began to spill into your mouth. His body shuddering when you continued to suck on his tip while maintaining eye contact. His cock throbbing as the last bits of cum spurted onto your tongue.
“Now what do you do?” Geto asked with a smirk, watching you swallow the thick substance before glancing between the both of them with a smile. “That’s my girl.”
Gojo panted with heavy breaths, receiving a pat on his shoulder from the black haired man. “That’s not even the half of it.”
It wasn’t long until you found yourself on your hands and knees. Geto’s cock down your throat as Gojo fucked into you from behind. “Is this what you like baby?” your boyfriend groaned, Gojo’s rough thrusts effectively rocking your mouth on and off of Geto’s cock. “Showing this lone fucker how good your pussy feels?” Gojo being too lost in how deep you were sucking him in to even respond.
You mewled, clenching down on Gojo’s cock as he hammered into your g spot. His thick length easily sliding in and out your tightness.
Gojo’s hand groped at the flesh of your ass, the sound of his hips slamming onto your flesh only getting louder when he sped up his pace. Allowing his tip to graze your gummy walls with force. “Haah- think this might just be the best pussy i’ve ever had.”
“Hear that baby? He loves that perfect pussy of yours.” Geto breathed, his eyes closing as he used his hand to guide your head faster. “Shit. Swear that mouth of yours is made of gold.”
You let out a muffled cry when you felt a coil build in your stomach. Your body still being jerked between the two men as you drooled onto your boyfriend’s cock. Your back arching when Gojo leaned onto you, his chest against your back as he brought his hand down to rub your clit. Your loud mewl sending vibrations through Geto’s dick.
Gojo groaned into your ear. “You feel so good pretty girl. Wish i could fuck into this pussy forever.” His thrusts getting sloppy as he moaned noisily into your neck, his eyes fixed on the way your swollen lips had stretched to fit his best friend’s girth. “O-oh shit— clenching down on me so tight.” he rasped into your skin, voice cracking into a higher pitch at the feeling of your warmth ready to milk him dry.
Geto pulled you off his cock with a grin, watching as you whimpered before taking in a well needed breath, your chest rising and falling as your eyes lost their focus. “Nnhg— Suguru, ah- Satoru, ‘m close,” you cried out, feeling yourself getting closer as Gojo continued to rub small circles on your sensitive bud, his cock hitting deep inside you with each movement
“Yeah baby? Gonna show him just how good he made you feel?” Geto husked, pulling your head back onto him before you could even nod in response, using your mouth as a wet flesh light to get him off the edge.
Gojo groaned loudly, his thrusts hard and mean as they lost their speed. Rolling his hips desperately into yours to chase his release. “Shit, can i cum in ya, pretty?”
You were only able to let out an incoherent babble, feeling the coil in your stomach painfully close to snapping.
“Don’t push it.” Geto warned, your chin getting messy as he lazily fucked your face, his head falling back with a string of deep curses.
“Selfish prick.”
“You’re fucking her aren’t you?”
Your body shook as you came, whimpering with a broken cry around Geto’s cock as your pussy spasmed. Eyes rolling back and your head fuzzy as you gushed messily. The force of your orgasm threatening to make Gojo’s cock slip out.
“There you go baby.” Geto started, Gojo finishing his words as he slowed his movements on your clit, “That’s it.”
Both men breathed heavily as their movements came to a halt. Geto holding your face down on his cock to spurt ropes of his cum down your throat.
“Suguru- fuck, please let me cum in her. Tight pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” Gojo moaned out, pleading blue eyes looking up to your boyfriend.
“You do that and you’re gonna lick it all out.” Geto growled out, tapping his cock onto your tongue a few times before he was pulling out. Watching as you moaned softly when his cum slid down your throat.
Gojo’s lips parted as his cock ached for a release. Deciding to take his chance at burying himself inside you, his twitching cock pumping thick ropes of cum into you. Looking up to meet your boyfriend’s fake grin.
“Baby, lay down, and you, better get every fucking drop outta her.”
Gojo pervertedly smiling as he willingly crawled in between your legs. Lapping at your sopping folds and swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned and mewled into the air.
Your fingers tangling in white strands as his tongue dipped into your hole, sucking a mixture of your juices and his cum into his mouth with a groan.
Geto let out a short laugh in amusement, “So this is what a lack of pussy does to a guy.” Watching as Gojo licked you clean, bringing you to another squirting orgasm in the process.
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