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#i saw this and it was the very first thing i thought of
tonycries · 1 day
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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
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Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
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You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What? 
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 
“Alright. Plan B, then.” 
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least. 
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 
Gathered here - for you. 
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
 Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip! 
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s���too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be. 
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 
“Close?” 
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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hitomisuzuya · 2 days
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Yandere!Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Aphrodisiac. Creampie. Finger sucking. One mention of killing. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.
Yandere Kunikuzushi won the poll. I hope this measures up to the first part. Kuni cumming inside for the first time.
As much as Kunikuzushi enjoyed devouring your pussy to his heart's content, he was starting to crave more. There was something so intensely arousing about cumming inside of you. He knew very well that it ran the risk of pregnancy, but your hips just looked so fucking perfect. Perfect for breeding.
He didn't want just that though. Oh no, he wanted so much more. He knew you would agree without hesitation to let him cum inside of you, you were starting to crave him as much as he craved you.
Kunikuzushi wanted you to look him right in his eyes, your eyes glassy with lust and desperation for him and tell him you wanted him to cum inside. He'd read about aphrodisiacs. He deduced that this would be the best method to get you say that without him asking first.
His cock throbbed thinking about folding your body into a mating press, being caged in by him and doing nothing but moan and cry for him while he pumped his cock inside of you, his cum seeping and coating it more with every thrust.
Kunikuzushi put his plan into action once he obtained the aphrodisiac capsule from a small pharmacy. You were distracted with a book when he broke open the capsule in the drink he got for you from the kitchen.
Now all he had to do is sit and wait, anticipating when the symptoms of the aphrodisiac setting in started to show.
He counted every second until he saw you shift restlessly on your bed. It looked like you were having a hard time concentrating. "Is something wrong?" He asked innocently as you closed your book and set it aside.
Your cheeks were flushed, and your breathing was sort of labored. You looked at him and said, "I feel really warm, and my body aches," You said, moving closer to him on the bed.
"Oh? Do you want me to go and get a doctor?" He asked, putting a hand on your forehead.
You shook your head. "No, I don't. Did you know that I have always thought your fingers are beautiful?" You said, glancing longingly at his fingers.
Kunikuzushi smirked. You were already so far gone. There was only one thing on your mind now. And that was him. He could see it in your eyes. "Oh?" He said, brushing his fingers on your lips. "You look like you have something rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
"Mhm," You said, the tip of your tongue flicked out against his fingers, sending a shiver through him. "I want to suck on your fingers, and then," You stroked his wrist, "I want you to cum inside of me."
Kunikuzushi felt such a rush course through him. You were just so fucking addicting. You would never say that to the blacksmith who he overheard telling his friend about wanting to ask you out. And then in the next breath said very vulgar and distasteful things about you.
That man was by now weighed down by rocks and dismembered, serving as fish food. Never to be found. He bled out so fast, but a pound of flesh was the only payment he would accept for insulting your honor in such a disgusting manner.
Kunikuzushi pushed his fingers into your mouth, savoring the happy moan that you muffled on his fingers. He pumped them in and out of your mouth, his fingers exploring as you sucked.
You gagged as he pushed his fingers into your throat. He was fast getting swept up in the dominant power he held over you. He could've made you choke over and over on his fingers and you would've gladly kept sucking once you recovered.
Your tongue lapped and curled, worshipping on his fingers. When he couldn't ignore the throbbing in his cock any longer, he took his fingers out of your mouth. Capturing your lips in a heated, open mouth kiss, his hands hastily removed your clothes.
Kunikuzushi indulged in every fantasy he'd jacked himself off having about you. This would be the first time his cock was ever inside of you. It felt so good to just let go and further corrupt you. He needed to build you up to a certain point by making you cream over and over again on his tongue first.
You felt such comfort under the sheer weight of his dominance as he bit and sucked bruises that would rapidly darken on your skin. Everyone would know you belonged to him. They needed to know. That way they wouldn't dare to fathom taking you away from him.
Your pussy felt so wet on his cock, your body folding so fragile and pliant underneath him as he bent you into the mating press he'd read so much about. He could tell your body struggled to tremble in pleasure as he pinned you down, caging you underneath him.
His hands tightened possessively on your wrists, holding them down on the bed, and using them as leverage to grind his aching cock between the drooling folds of your cunt.
"Say it again," He groaned, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. "Tell me you want me to cum inside again," Your pussy clenched around the tip of his cock, your hips jerking up to urge it against your entrance.
"Yes, Kuni, please! Cum inside of me!" You pleaded, struggling to grind against his cock. Need for him gripped your body, amplified by the aphrodisiac. You mewled, the sensation of his cock teasing against your clit sent made your body ache, and tremble more.
Kunikuzushi wouldn't dream of denying you. Especially not when he had dreamt of this moment so many times. With a husky groan, he pushed his cock inside of you.
"So wet," He moaned, his cheeks flushing from how lewd his cock sounded as your pussy swallowed it. "So tight. Clenching like a perfect slut on my cock," He pulled out just to bottom out again, his cock throbbing as your walls squeezed around it.
Kunikuzushi enjoyed watching you struggle to buck your hips up as his kissed his cock into your sweet spot. He felt your body melting under his with every thrust of his cock, surrendering yourself to him completely.
You looked so cock drunk, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth as you moaned shamelessly. Shamelessly for him. It sent him reeling that you made someone like him capable of feeling such filthy human emotions.
The closer he got to cumming, the more he started to whimper with raw need. It sounded so disorienting to him that he had to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth to muffle them.
The way your fingers intertwined with his, squeezing like you were clinging to him was pure bliss to him. The mewl of pleasure when he emptied his cock inside of you, unable to stop thrusting down into you was utterly addicting.
He wondered if you could even hear yourself babbling about you were his and only his fucked so dumb on his cock.
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afterglowsainz · 2 days
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fresh out the slammer | max verstappen
summary: after you broke up with your boyfriend, you join your friends for a night out in monaco and decide it's a good idea to invite max
warnings: fluff, mentions of breakups, drinking
word count: 1.8k
a/n: giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of a situationship with max
the tortured athletes department series
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it’s been one month since you and your ex-boyfriend of one year broke up. you couldn’t say you were heartbroken because you really weren’t, like most men do at some points in their lives, he was disappointing you long before you broke up with him, so in a way, you mourn your relationship while you were still in it. now you just felt a bit lonelier than before, but you had definitely moved on.
on a saturday night, you had a few friends over to your monaco apartment for dinner and a very well deserved gossip session. you told them all about your breakup with your most recent boyfriend and how you were feeling almost too good.
“guys, what if we go out?” one of your best friends suggests. “a friend of mine is having a party at this club downtown and is supposed to be this very exclusive thing.” you thought about it for a few seconds after agreeing. it has been a while since you went out with your friends, especially in monaco where everything can happen. you got ready in less than ten minutes since you already were put together and joined your friends in the car on your way to the club. 
during the quick ride you check your instagram and saw that your friend max posted a story. you and max have had this weird relationship for years, were you’re both really close friends who’ve also liked each other forever, but none of you had actually made a move on each other (except for that one time, but you’ve never talked about it). you clicked on his profile picture and the story popped up, a picture of him and his friends playing fifa on his couch. you smiled and liked the photo, putting your phone away.
once you got to the club your friend led you all to the entrance and when she gave her name to the bouncer they let you all in. the place was completely packed, but she took you all to a place on the top that was a bit less full and looked more like that exclusive event your friend was talking about. soon enough, alcohol was running through your system and your body was moving along with the blasting music at the club when a thought almost made you stop on your tracks. you looked for your best friend all over the place and ran over to her when you saw her near the bar.
“hey.” you call out loudly over the music.
“hey.” she smiled at you. “having fun?” she asks and you nod.
“can i tell you this idea i just had?” she takes a sip from her drink and nods. “would it be a good idea if i invited max?” her eyes widen with surprise and gives you a knowing smile.
“max like max verstappen?” she asks. “like your max?” you nod again, this time more euphorically.
“yes, my max.” you took a sip of your drink and cleared your throat. “he’s in monaco, so why not? the worst that can happen is he says no.” you shrug, like the idea of him not wanting to see you didn’t kill you a bit inside.
“go for it!” she exclaims. “absolutely, yes, invite him over.”
you smiled and headed over to the balcony, relieved to feel the cold air of the monaco night hit your skin, cooling you down. you took out your phone and hover over max’s contact for a moment, wondering if you should text or call first. you decided to call since that would be much more immediate. you listen to the phone ringing for a few moments and when you thought it would send you to voicemail, you heard max’s familiar voice.
“hello.” he answers.
“heyyy.” you greet him with a smile that he couldn’t see.
“y/n.” he calls your name with happiness. “how are you?”
“i’m good, how are you?” you ask. “what are you up to?”
“oh, i’m good, yeah.” he says. “just hanging out with some friends. you?”
“i’m in monaco.” you say looking at the stars. “actually, i’m at this club, i was wondering if you wanted to come? you can bring your friends, my friends are here too.”
you waited for him to answer so long you thought the line had dropped.
“what club are you in?” you gave him the name and heard some loud voices in the background. “okay, we’ll be there in twenty.”
you smiled at the sky and bit your lip.
“okay.” you answered and finished the call.
when you got back inside you met your friends again and let them know that max was coming with his friends. twenty minutes later, you were still dancing in the middle of the place when someone tapped your shoulder with tenderness. when you turned around you saw those blue eyes that you loved staring back at you.
“hello, you.” you smiled at him and he returned it.
“long time no see.” he said, giving you a small kiss on the cheek. you felt yourself flustered and were grateful that the place was mostly dark with a few colored lights.
“you should’ve told me when you got here, i would’ve gone outside to get you.” you frowned, ignoring the blush on your face.
“i wanted it to be a surprise.” he defends himself. 
“it can’t be a surprise if i invited you.” you fought back and he placed his arm around your shoulders.
“you know what i mean.” he clicked his tongue, teasing you.
you spent the next hour dancing, drinking and talking with max. it was like the world around you had disappeared and it was only the two of you left in that club. when you took a quick break from dancing he got close to you and whispered in your ear.
“do you want to go outside?” he asks. you felt yourself blush again but nodded.
he was about to guide you to the balcony but you redirected him to the exit of the club. you stopped briefly to let your friend know that you were leaving with max for a moment so she wouldn’t worry and she just winked at you. you took his hand so you wouldn’t lose him while walking through all the people at the club and once you were outside you dropped his hand, even though you didn’t really wanted to, but the last thing you wanted was to make it uncomfortable for him.
“you wanna take a walk?” he asks while taking his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.
you nod and smile at him, grateful for his jacket. you both start walking along the streets, talking about nothing in particular until he makes the question you knew he wanted to ask all night.
“how’s it going with your boyfriend?” he doesn’t look at you while asking, no matter how much you wanted him to do so.
“we broke up.” you answer dryly.
“oh.” he finally looks at your face for any hint of sadness, but there is none. you’re not sad about it.
“how’s it going with your girlfriend?” you ask now, remembering the gorgeous redhead he was dating a few months ago.
it was on one of those few occasions both of you were in monaco at the same time. you were leaving from café de paris with your best friend and you crossed him at the entrance, next to him was one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen, holding his hand. you remembered she introduced herself as his girlfriend and your heart skipped a beat at the word, even though you had no right to feel anything like that since you had a boyfriend yourself. you said your goodbyes and he did too and that was the last time you saw him.
“what was her name again?” you asked. “i can’t remember.”
“we broke up.” max ignored your last question, answering the first one you asked instead.
“oh.” you frowned, sad for him for whatever reason. maybe it was the alcohol in you bringing out all the emotions. “what happened?”
“it just didn’t work out.” he answers simply, giving you a reassuring smile.
“when did you break up?” you knew you were a bit out of line meddling into his relationship. especially when he didn’t ask you these types of questions about your own breakup, but you couldn’t help it.
“a few months ago.” he said, completely unfazed by your curiosity. “actually, it was the day you met her.”
“at the café de paris?” you questioned with surprise and he nodded. “why would you break up with your girlfriend there? it’s such a lovely place.”
he wanted to laugh at your remark, but bit his lip instead.
“i saw you.” he whispered and you felt like all the air was leaving your lungs.
“you broke up with your girlfriend because you saw me?” you ask incredulously and he nods again. “why would you do that?”
“why do you think, y/n?”
he holds your eyes for a few seconds until you turn your head and continue walking. you didn’t answer him and he didn’t say anything else, his words hanging in the air while you got wrapped into a comfortable silence. you were trying to process his train of thought while also processing yours. could his words have such an impact on you? did he feel about you the same way you’ve always felt about him? would he want to try something with you? with each question you asked in your head, you felt yourself leaning more and more into max until the back of your hands brushed each other while walking. he felt so familiar in so many ways.
before you could realize it, you were both outside of your apartment building. did you really walk this much?
“well.” he said, breaking the silence. “i guess this is where i leave you.” he pointed with his chin at the building.
you looked at him for a few seconds, your mind racing ten thousand miles per hour.
“you could stay.” you whisper.
max looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes you knew too well.
“you’re drunk.” he murmured, just like you had. you shook your head and got closer to him, touching the collar of his shirt gently.
“just as much as you.” you were so close you could see every speck of color in his eyes. “i think the walk here sober me up, anyway.” you joke, taking your eyes off of him, fearing that looking at him a second longer would make you do something unexpected.
“are you sure about this?” he took your face between his hands, forcing you to look at him. the beautiful blue of his eyes was now much darker and you fell a little bit more in love just by looking at them.
“of course i’m sure.” your voice low, only for him to hear. “i’ve always been.”
his eyes went from your eyes to your lips, and then back into your eyes.
“come inside.” you ask.
he smiles at you like he just won a championship, taking your hand and pulling you into the building.
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hughesyodaddy43 · 3 days
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Just maybe ⎸ N.H
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Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(
Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.
From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.
Him.
The captain of the New Jersey devils.
Him. 
The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you. 
Him and his cute accent. 
Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.
Him. Nico Hischier.
This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .
After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.
Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.
Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back? 
Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?
Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.
Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men. 
However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.
Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.
You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA. 
You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day. 
You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency. 
You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.
“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.
“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it. 
“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.
His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own. 
“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red. 
Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.
You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot. 
“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.
“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.
Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump. 
“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing 
“Hello?” 
“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.
You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.
Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.
You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats. 
“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face. 
“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers  in your lap. 
“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.
Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she  chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.
If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico 
Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)
“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me”  she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.
“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread. 
“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.
“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink. 
“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.
‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?
surely  just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.
X
X
Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils. 
Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.
Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.
X
You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.
He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly. 
“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.
“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask 
“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady. 
A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you. 
Fuck it. 
You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. 
You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away. 
“I like you.” you confess. 
Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.
“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek. 
Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.
You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.
Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?
Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.
Maybe.
Just maybe…
He does love you back.
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🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin
# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗
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🌿┊ASTARION
Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.
Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.
He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.
He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.
Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.
Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.
The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.
He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.
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🌿┊GALE
So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.
Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.
Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.
Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.
He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.
Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.
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🌿┊WYLL
If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.
The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.
Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.
Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.
Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.
Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.
You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.
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🌿┊HALSIN
Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.
Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.
Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.
Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.
Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.
I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.
Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.
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yunhoszn · 2 days
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to hell with it
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pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader word count 5k genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
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“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now. 
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate. 
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver. 
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart. 
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest. 
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.  
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.) 
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call. 
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof. 
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again. 
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present. 
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background. 
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed. 
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional. 
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational. 
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated. 
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush. 
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest. 
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away. 
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand. 
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there. 
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.) 
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck. 
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it. 
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in. 
but enough is enough. 
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for. 
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well. 
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair. 
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling. 
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you. 
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him. 
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind. 
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right. 
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell. 
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely. 
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason. 
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest. 
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of. 
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time. 
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated. 
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently. 
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm. 
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face. 
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways. 
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
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© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
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flem17ng · 3 days
Text
It’s a date.
UCLA! jessie fleming x reader
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summary: reader starts her first semester at UCLA and meets bruins midfielder, jessie fleming.
content: fluff, short one-shot. author has no knowledge of the American education system.
The first day of university was always going to be hard. New people, new campus, new lecturers and new classes all together. Maybe it was the fact you’d never been this far from home before that made it worse. 
UCLA was your dream school. Quite literally. You remeber looking at the university website back when you where in middle school and imagining yourself there: kicking a ball in the oval, studying in a library, laps in the big pools. the feeling of actually being here was… overwhelming. 
Like all eighteen year olds do, you had launched yourself into this thing head first: packed bags, kissed your dog goodbye and hopped on the plane. And like most eighteen year olds , you where now struck with the intensity of your actions. 
Here you where, miles from home, no connections in the state, standing outside the lecture theatre for your first class. So yes, overwhelming would be the word of choice. 
You looked down at your timetable for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last minute, checking and triple checking that you had got the room right. 
“Environmental Studies: Spheres 101”. The name of the course seemed to taunt you at you stared at it blankly. 
Leave it to you to go to one of the most prestigious sports schools in the world, (doing very minimal sport yourself) and end up doing a course all about what? Water, earth, wind and fire?
You knew it was more important than that of course. You picked environmental engineering for a reason: because you cared about that sort of stuff! 
You took a long breath readying to walk in when-
“Oh shit I am so sorry! God I was not looking where I was going!” The thump in your shoulder didn’t knock you quite as off balance as the thick Canadian accent. You froze for a moment, not knowing whether to be pissed at this stranger’s clumsiness or charmed but the voice that reminded you of home. Your eyes flashed up to meet the source of the voice and decided to be charmed. 
Her eyes where the first thing you noticed: large and brown and…. well charming you suposed. Every other part of the girls face fell neatly into place behind those eyes: perfect, warm and adorned with a lopsided and slightly guilty smile. 
It was then that you realised you hadn’t responded. 
“Oh no don’t worry. I was distracted myself” you rushed out, words melding into a lump as they rushed to get passed your lips. It was worth it as you watched the girls guilt melt away into an easier grin. 
“Another Canadian! I thought I was going to be alone here you know” she laughed “I don’t think I would have survived”. 
You nod eagerly, feeling the other girls  relief. “God same! I’m already off kilter over here”
“Eh. we’ll muddle through” she grinned back giving an animated wink before looking back at the door you where still loitering before. 
“Might need to…” she trailed off at motioned with her chin to the door. 
“Right right yes! I don’t want to be late to learn about the spheres of the environment” you drawled sarcastically. The girl rolled her eyes in agreement. 
“Right!? when I saw that on my timetable I couldn’t believe it! I swear I learned this in 9th grade”. 
“American’s eh?” you tut with a playful smile. God you hoped none of the resident americans would over hear you. 
The girl (you realised you didn’t yet know her name) laughed loudly, her teeth flashing handsomely (Looking at her you realised that “handsome” was a pretty accurate diagnosis: broad shoulders, a freakishly athletic build, sharp jawline. Yes, handsome was the word). Together you walked forward into the lecture hall, thankfully not late before parting ways: her going to sit next to a few other athletic looking girls with tight ponytails, and you going to sit near the front (curse your poor eyesight). 
~
To be brutally honest, after that little interaction, you almost completely forgot about the handsome canadian girl with charming eyes from your environmental engineering course. Almost. You saw her about a few times: in the distance on the playing field, walking around campus. But you hadn’t really talked to her since that first class at the beginning of semester. Everytime you got into class she was already there, sitting next to the Bruins girls, pen in hand, with deadly focus. 
You reasoned that it would be impolite to interrupt her, it would be nosy to try join her little group and it would be downright stalkerish to try track her down across campus. 
Not to mention the university work that was flooding in… it was not stopping for anything, that’s for sure, definitely not your strange hang up over a girl you had one interaction with. 
Your reasoning for this preoccupation was simply that you missed home: Canada seemed so far away especially as the weather only got warmer. This girl was simply a reminder that the faraway moose land was real! Additionally, maybe your brain got confused: a kind interaction plus the familiar Canadian accent equals weird unreasonable attachment. 
You shook your head and tried to refocus your eyes in the screen in front of you. You had been staring at the blank document you so long that your head had started to ache and the hot chocolate you bought before you sat down was now definitely cold. The cafe was one of those tiny ones with maybe three indoor tables and a booming espresso machine that took up most of the counter space by the cash register and drowned out the soft music echoing from the speakers. 
You had found it during the second week of semester and now frequented it most afternoons to try and crank out as many assignments as possible. Routine was important, you must understand that. 
You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temple before being rudely startled by a tap of the shoulder. 
“Jeezus! give a girl some warning please!” you snapped before looking up at the offender. Brown eyes stared back at you filled with an amused glint. 
“We gotta stop meeting like this” she laughed. The same laugh that showed off her handsome features and warm glow. 
“Oh hey! It’s um… you!” it wasn’t meant to sound like a stutter but it came out that way anyways. 
“Jessie” she smiled softly, catching your fumble “Jessie Fleming? We have some lectures together?” 
“Yes no! I remember sorry. I just didn’t catch your name” you rambled, feeling suddenly very foolish. She patted your shoulder to pull you out of the spiral. 
“I know. I’m just messing” she sat down in the seat opposite you with a sigh. 
It was then that you really looked at her. She looked very much the same as she had the first time apart from a few key things: her hair was shorter (sitting just above her shoulders whereas before it had hung in a long plat down her back) and her left eye seemed strangely swollen and purple. 
“Um… get into a fight Fleming?” you asked, indicating to her, now obvious, black eye. To your surprise she laughed!
“Oh this old thing! No just a bad tackle during soccer practice” she grinned, poking the swollen lid with a dramatic wince. 
“Soccer… OH! Oh it makes sense now” you lean back in your chair and look at her like you had only just noticed her properly. 
“Fleming! 21! bruins midfielder! God I never made the connection!” you laughed, feeling stupid. Maybe if you had payed more attention to the sport at your SPORT university, you would have found out her name sooner. 
“Oh hush. It’s really nothing” she muttered looking embarrassed. 
“No, shut up Fleming. No it isn’t! I heard a girl in the library talking about your goal in a match a few weeks ago! Boy I know jack shit about sport but I know it was impressive” you hissed back eagerly. 
“No really-“
“Take the damn compliment Jessie”
“Fine! Thank you” she smiled awkwardly with a role of her eyes “It was a pretty good goal I guess”
You smiled and watched her for a long moment as she settled into the seat fully. Your eyes followed her perfect nose, flickered up to her eyebrows before coming to rest at her lips. How could someone look that good so effortlessly?
“Staring is rude” she stated bluntly, as her lips curled into a smirk. You looked away with a jerk, cheeks flaming. 
“I- I was not!”
“Okay…”
“I wasn’t staring! You soccer types, always so big headed!” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest. You felt childish: of course you had been staring! God how silly that this girl, Jessie, thought you could hold back from staring at her! You’re only human after all. 
“I-“ Jessie started to speak but cut herself off, her mouth hanging open slightly. 
“Yes?”
“I might be out of play for a few weeks. Concussion protocols and all that but… well stop me if this is too forward but, I’d love for you to come to a game? One of my games I mean” her question ended in a rush before she leaned back from the table with big curious eyes. You stared back, dumbfounded. It took a shake of your head to get you to respond. 
“You want me to come to a bruins game?”
“Uhh. Yes?”
“You know I don’t know anything about soccer?”
“I did assume that, yes.”
“But you want me there?”
“Yes.” her tone was soft but firm, determined. “I want you to come to a game please. To watch me play? Or we can watch it together if I’m still out for injury?”
You laugh and clap a hand over your mouth. 
“Are you asking me on a date Jessie Fleming?” you spit out, feeling suddenly emboldened by the other girls flustered expression. Jessie’s cheeks only became redder at your sudden inquiry. 
“Yes please?” came her hopeful squeak. 
You grinned and leaned over the table, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just under her bruised eye, before sitting back in one swift movement. 
“Ok. But you’re going to have to let me wear your jersey 21. Oh, and explain the offside rule.”
Jessie groaned, but her pink cheeks gave her away. 
“Fine. It’s a date.” 
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Note
Freebee to write whatever you want!
"Harpies," Alfred sniffed, tossing the paper aside with disgust.
Your first public outing with the family had been fine. Successful, honestly in helping to integrate you. The boys had been kind and had seemingly started to understand how to work with and around your little... quirks. But the media had lost their god-forsaken minds.
After nearly a decade of taking male children, taking in a FEMALE child? And her being a little SHY? And COVERED UP on the beach? (In a long-sleeved t-shirt and some capris you found comfortable) For shame. And Bruce to be mindful of her physical boundaries? Of course, he's a secret misogynist. Not just a gentleman and a now experienced foster parent.
"Hn."
Alfred glanced at Bruce and smiled ruefully and patting his shoulder, "Second thoughts?"
"No," Bruce said shaking his head. "I don't think it would be good for her to hot potato her around. And, it's not like we can't handle her but-"
"She is very sweet," Alfred said, pouring him tea deftly. Flipping the Tv on to see what the news was saying about it. Debating a call to the planet. To see if they'd be willing to do something about it.
"But it's just- just-"
"Different," Alfred finished nodding. "Stocking her closet was a nightmare. I don't know what I would have done without Miss Barbara's help."
Bruce smiled a little. "It'll be an adjustment." He sipped his tea and frowned at the morning talk show. Of course they were talking about you. How sickly and shy you were. Timidly participating. Sometimes holding Dick's hand, sometimes Bruce's. Sometimes playing little games with Tim. Covered up compared to the rest of them in swim trunks with their shirts off. The three of them rough housing and playing in the water while you sat in the shade and watched.
It did look odd from the outside. But- you were content. Participating how you were comfortable. On the way home you fell asleep with your head on Dick's shoulder and he carried you inside while Bruce carried Tim. It was a good day. "Should I have picked a different-"
"I never saw the ocean before."
Your quiet little voice and a persistent uncertain feeling sends them both grabbing for the remote to shut the TV off.
"No?" Bruce asked, pushing out a chair for you.
"Just lakes. But some of those were pretty big. I remember taking a old mail boat once on a tour. They showed us where Al Capone had a house."
He nodded and smiled a little, "So you had a good day?"
You nod and he reaches up very carefully and sweeps hair out of your face, "And you don't think I'm secretly a misogynist?"
"I don't know what that means."
"That I hate women."
"I don't think you hate anyone," you tell him, and now he can feel crackles of confusion leaking your as your forehead crinkles.
Bruce exhales slowly, some of the frustration he felt falling away. "Thank you," he hummed. He didn't know if it was your influence or your words, but he appreciated it. And when little arms looped around his neck and he hugged you back on instinct, he realized that, for all the differences, some things weren't going to change. Kids were kids. And he loved them. And once they were his, they were his.
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orangekittyenergy · 2 days
Text
Indulgent Desires
(sorry for the repost if you already read/saw this just moving things around)
NSFW Gale Smut Fic
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Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, masturbation, hand jobs, Gale fluff and some angst but mostly smut, Gale POV, non described Tav (aside from she/her pronouns but no mention of genitals)
Words: 4000
Info: After the orb is stabilized, Gale realizes he can indulge fully in certain pleasures he had to deny before. (Set after they meet Elminster but before the love scene)
Read below or directly on AO3
---
Gale lay in his tent, sleep altogether eluding him, as it often did as of late. Despite his words of reassurance to Tav, he didn't feel nearly as comfortable with the edict from Mystra as he projected. It was one thing to contemplate ones death for so long, but to be faced with the absolute certainty of it was, well, it was something else entirely. He knew this damned orb would ultimately be his demise, and he wasn't lying when he said he was happy he could use his predicament to save everyone. But.... he couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of regret. Why now? Why did this have to happen now of all times? A month ago he felt quite ready for death; he would've leapt at the chance to earn forgiveness, and additionally going out as a hero in the annals of history- what more could one have asked for?
But for one very specific wrench in this acceptance now. Tav. He'd seen the way her eyes flashed as Elminster spoke. Thankfully she was tactful enough to hold her tongue; but he could tell from her clenched jaw it hadn't been easy. She had been curt in her responses but very insistent that this was not the solution and there would be opportunity still to find another way.
When she approached him after to discuss he could almost see the ghost of grief in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what this meant through their conversation. Asking every question she could seemingly think of and explore every avenue. But even as her emotions still flared, her last words echoed in his head.
She had stepped close, placing a hand on his arm gently. Her eyes were brimming with what he thought at the time was anger but as he mused on it, he realized it was something else, something she hid inside that he couldn't place.
"You are not going to blow yourself up, Gale. I won't let you." She said, her voice tense, with a steely resolve that almost cracked through his own carefully crafted veneer of acceptance.
That was hours ago. Now he lay back in his tent, scared and alone - again.
Tav. She had always been there for him. From the very start she showed no hesitation in helping with his condition, always provided him with the utmost care and warmth. When she said they would find another way, she was so certain of it that he almost dared to believe her. After all, if she kept up with the spell lessons he had been attempting to give her, she could certainly take on any foe. With a lurch his mind leapt back to the first time they connected in the weave; the image in her mind, as clear as if it had been reality. It felt like ages ago now but he recalled it as distinctly as if it had happened yesterday. A soft tender kiss. Giving way to eager tongues and warm breath and roaming hands.
Gale sucked in a deep breath, sleep well and truly gone from any corner of his mind as deeper thoughts took hold.
Tav. The way she ambled up to him at the party, her face blushed slightly as she tried to dance delicately around her own flirtations. A coy bite of her lip and twinkle in her eye looking at him, as he finally realized her intentions and was forced, with a heavy heart and a pain in his chest, to turn her away.
Would he get another chance again with her? He thought, he could swear at least, that she still gave him lingering glances before heading to bed each night. Or was that the workings of his own greedy imagination? Their route had turned more perilous than ever and they hadn't had the same chance for any of their usual lighthearted conversations as of late. Exhaustion and battle weariness finally taking over as they succumbed to sleep each night. Each of them really, stumbling to their own tents at night, too weary to make much conversation as they prepared to face a new set of horrors the next day. Tav though, Tav always seemed to make time for conversation, checking in with everyone, and he thought – or hoped - specifically him, before heading to bed herself.
His body stirred with a delicious sensation before his mind even realized what was happening. It was such a strange, distant, but familiar feeling. Desire like this. As if something from a half forgotten dream. The tingling started in his gut and before he knew it had settled into his very core and he felt a stirring in his cock.
Once he realized what it was his first instinct, as always, was to push it away; desires like that were previously vastly overshadowed by the pain of the orb. And even when the orb felt sated, he was still always too worried about it's condition and the consequences of indulging in such self pleasure to tempt fate. Even once his feelings for Tav had taken hold in his mind, his situation and their current predicament left no room for any hint of such a pleasure. But his body still stirred. He was half hard before he fully realized; the orb was sated. Truly this time. He felt no pain, no angry rumblings, no lingering worry about accidentally setting anything off. Nothing now holding him back from any such gratification.
Without fully intending too, he let his mind drift back to Tav. A rushing flood of memories of her that he had pushed away all coming back at once. Her exposed thigh as Shadowheart healed a nasty cut on her leg. A chance encounter in the river by the Grove catching a glimpse of her naked back and wet hair. Her bending over to search her pack, her tunic dropping scandalously low. Her eyes, flashing brightly at him at the end of each battle, checking to see that he was safe. The thing that truly aroused him though, was the memory of just earlier that night. Her delicate touch on his arm. Her caring eyes searching his. Her resolve that this wouldn't be the end.
It wasn't anger in her eyes, he realized, it was compassion. Dare he think….love? Her eyes had streaked with internal fire at her deep desires for him, he thought. Or was that his own lust and his now throbbing cock speaking? Safely alone in his tent, did it truly matter?
He reached down, tentatively at first, still not sure how this would go, and unlaced his trousers. He pulled up his tunic a touch as well and eased his hardness out of his pants. He was more grateful now than ever at the brilliant foresight and blessings that they had their own tents to retreat to at the end of the night.
Mind firmly set on Tav, the look of her gazing at him fondly, he ventured his hand down again, wrapping his palm slowly around his own length. The immediate sensation was almost too much to handle, his mind frying as if he'd been shocked at finally being able to indulge in such base urges. In his mind, Tav leaned close, her lips hovering above his before crashing together. His hand firmly on himself he gave a gentle pump up and down, trying to savor the sensation.
It wasn't indulgent; he told himself, sucking in a sharp gasp at the feeling of his warm palm as he continued to slowly stroke his length. If Tav did care for him as much as he dared to dream, he couldn't have his first time in ages with a woman, let alone a woman he felt so strongly for, end so quickly. And it surely would with how pent up he was. This was merely preparation. With just a minor hint of indulgence.
He imagined himself and Tav as they continued to explore each other's mouths, pulling away only briefly to undress. He pieced together how he thought she would look like naked from the brief glances he had gotten, letting his own imagination fill in the gaps. It wasn’t even a clear image, but he knew she was immaculate.
He felt a dribble of his own seed leaking out of the tip and paused a moment there, giving his tip a few soft squeezes and pumps before moving back down, spreading his own precum across his cock as he pumped harder. His base instincts taking over, pumping and feeling and squeezing without thinking; getting reacquainted with the veins and ridges of his own cock. Finally allowing himself to give in fully to this experience.
He pressed his lips together hard, determined not to make a noise aside from the inevitable rustling of fabric. But as his fantasy Tav peeled off the last layers of her clothes and approached him once more, his strokes picked up the pace again and he felt a groan escape his lips. Had he any foresight on how this night would go he would've thought to take preparations, cast silence or darkness or anything to allow him to fully invest himself into this. But as it was, he was too far gone now to cast a thing and far too deep in his fantasy to stop now.
In his mind again he whispered sweet nothings in Tav’s ear as he explored her newly naked body with roaming hands. Imagining all at once that it was her hand wrapped carefully around his aching erection. Her hand furiously pumping up and down. Her hand that twisted slightly now as it pumped, adding another carefully crafted level to his pleasure.
"Tav." He couldn't help but moan out, his mind blurring the line between fantasy and reality at these practically new sensations. How long had it been since he felt such flesh on flesh contact? Even his own. He began to thrust his hips up slightly as well, adding to the pace of his trembling hand, growing delirious with his evolving fantasy. He could picture her face so clearly, lips partly slightly, eyes shining at him, picturing her as he thrust his cock upwards into his fist with reckless abandon. He started to feel a pull in his very core, a feeling he was all too familiar with, albeit not under these circumstances. A hot warmth building in his balls as he continued to stroke himself furiously. His body close to reaching that delightful peak.
"Tav..." he groaned again; his own indulgent desires clogging any leftover sense of caution. He wanted to hold on, wanted to make this fantasy last, but was too close to the edge. He would spill his own seed calling her name and it would be the most welcome relief from all the built up tension he had felt.
Just as he was ready to succumb, he heard an unmistakable shuffle outside his tent. A footstep. The sound of someone moving. He froze, his blood running cold. How could he not notice a noise earlier? His pulse throbbed in his ears as he strained to hear in the new silence, his fantasy lost, his fist still paused halfway down his cock. An aching moment passed and he wondered if he had imagined it.
"Gale?" Her tender voice called through the folds on his tent.
A string of curses he didn't even know he knew flew through his mind as he released his hand and struggled to compose himself enough to answer. He frantically started to tuck himself away, his stubborn erection refusing to waiver even at the thought of being caught.
"Ahem...um..yes, Tav?" He replied, his voice hoarse. The woman he was just furiously masturbating to was standing outside his tent; the gods truly had cursed him, he thought.
"Can I come in?" She said quietly and he realized, through the fog and panic it must still be late; the others asleep. Why was she here now? Did she hear him? Had he been louder than he thought?
"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat again, successfully tucking his still hard cock away and sitting up, hoping to hide the obvious nature of his predicament with his loose tunic. You fool, why didn't you just not answer or send her away? He chastised himself. But even as the words entered his mind he realized he couldn't do that. Not to her. He had sent her away too many times already. He wouldn’t do it again. Not with their time left together so short.
After a moment she ducked into his small tent, the subsequent crack in the fabric allowing the campfire to provide a small amount of illumination inside.
"Sorry," she said, a little louder now that she was securely inside, "I hope I'm not.... bothering you." She finished and Gale wondered again if she had heard him.
"No, no, you could never be a bother to me." He sucked in a quick breath, trying again to regain composure and still his rapidly beating heart. "I wasn't even sleeping. Just laying here with my thoughts." Well, he mused, it wasn't a total lie. Tav seemed to hesitate before speaking again.
"I just, I felt bad...leaving things like I did. I didn't want you to think that I don't respect your choice, or your feelings, because I do." She said quickly and edged closer. In spite of the situation he couldn't help but smile, feeling touched that she was worried about how she might have spoke with him. In the dim light, he scooted to the side, allowing her room should she wish to sit on his bedroll.
She took the invitation and stepped forward, taking a seat next to him on the bedroll. His bed. His bed where moments before he was pleasuring himself to her visage. He quietly shook the thought from his head and again tried to calm his rapidly increasing heart rate. She obviously came here to say something important to him. Fully settled, he turned more to face her, still acutely aware of his blood rushing through his veins and offering silent thanks for the darkness to hide his still very active erection.
“I…” He started and paused, taking a thick swallow. “I’ll have you know, your words were of great comfort to me. I didn’t once think you didn’t heed my choice, difficult as it is, and I truly...do appreciate how much you care.” He managed out. He found himself suddenly cursing the darkness, where seconds before he had thanked it; he wanted to see her face now, see how she was looking at him.
He sensed her movement before even being able to see it, and felt her reach up and cup his cheek. He leaned his face into her hand, nuzzling her palm for a second, wondering if he was still dreaming.
“Gale….I just...I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered and he could feel her breath on his face and realized she was close enough to see even in the low light. He wanted to speak again, reassure her, offer the same words of comfort he soothed himself with before but couldn’t find them now.
Before he could come up with any words at all he saw her face move closer and felt her lips ghost against his. Now he was certain he must be dreaming; lost in a fantasy so stark and deep he hoped he would never wake up. Pushing aside lingering hesitation or worry he had been struck mad, already in the thick of the moment, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against hers and for the second time in the night, feeling like he could burst from the contact.
There was no further discussions or hesitation, their mouths both parted eagerly and he couldn’t tell who slipped a tongue in first but just as quick as it started they were kissing deeply and passionately, devouring each other with their mouths. Months of desire and waiting dissolving into their kiss.
Tav slid her hand off his cheek and onto his chest, giving him a gentle push of encouragement to lay down. His heart again beat a heavy and rapid pulsing in his chest as he leaned back, head positively spinning at the new development. He half-expected her to crawl on-top of him as he stretched his legs out, but found her sliding her body down next to his. He turned his head to the side to meet hers, aching at the momentary lapse in contact and desperate to get his lips on hers again; now that he had felt the real thing there was no going back.
She lay on her side next to him as their lips met again and he tried to savor the feeling and not think too hard about all the steps that led him to this specific moment. He felt her push her hips against him, angling her body half onto his and hooking her leg over his thigh. Her hand roved downwards, crossing his thrumming chest and pausing just above his navel.
Gale took a sharp breath in through the kiss, realizing where her hand might be heading, but making no move to stop her. As she edged her hand down she finally broke away from the kiss, allowing him to suck in a few ragged deep breaths he so desperately needed. Tav pressed her wet kisses into his cheek instead and he thought he felt her smiling into his skin with each kiss.
Her hand finally reached its purchase, his unavoidable still aching cock yearning to be freed again after being so painfully denied release. She tentatively gave it a stroke through the fabric he had hastily tucked it back into. Gale felt a powerful shudder roll through his whole body and couldn’t help but let a soft moan escape his lips.
He hadn’t even had the chance to lace back up and Tav made quick work of the loose fabric and tangle of laces and pulled his cock back out of the edge of his pants. She nestled her face into her neck, resting her head half on his shoulder as he turned his head back to face upwards, hoping he didn’t cum at the barest of her touches.
His breath hitched in his chest as she finally wrapped her own warm palm around him, her soft touch holding him gently and feeling his pulse beneath her. As indulgent as his own flesh was, as good as it felt to merely imagine her palm on his cock; it paled in comparison to the actual feeling of her. As she started to ease her fist gently up and down him he bit down hard on his lip and tried to focus his brain on not releasing that same instant, the same lingering feeling still simmering in his core.
Gale was well trained in concentration, whether on the battlefield or in practice, he had plenty of experience exerting a certain level of mental fortitude and holding himself steady. But he quickly realized that holding concentration on a spell and staving off this burning feeling bubbling within him were two entirely different skill sets.
Tav leaned her head in again to give his neck a quick nibble and started pumping her hand up and down him in earnest. He leaned his head back towards her again, wanting to feel her her lips on his again, even if they were trembling, but he wanted her as close as she could be as she finished him. Decorum fully lost under this fantasy become reality, he felt himself thrust his hips upwards with her hand, fucking her fist with a greedy need that surprised himself.
She swiped her hand over his tip, collecting the cum gathering there and gave it a quick flourish of attention with a playful squeeze and he knew he was done for. Their lips grazing, breath mingling, he felt his body again reach its limits. The heat that had been building within shot upwards in divine explosion.
Gale couldn’t help but cry out, letting loose a few strangled chokes as he came in her hand, spilling his seed on her fist and loose pants. He reached his hand over his chest, grabbing at her cheek, holding her close while his body shuddered and the delightful waves of pleasure crashed through him, still letting loose a few final moans as his cock stopped pulsing. 
His chest pounded hard, but for the first time in a long time, it was a pleasurable feeling as a level of relaxation he didn’t think was possible anymore took hold of his body. Every inch of him seemed to calm and ease and he felt like he could melt into a puddle in the bedroll beneath them.
Tav released his softening sticky member and lay her hand on his thigh and he suddenly realized the mess he made.
“Oh, let me get -” He started to move, aiming to grab the towel and bowl he had used to wash up with earlier. But Tav held him down with her body, nestling herself further against him and rubbing her nose against his neck with a soft sigh.
“Don’t worry. Lets just lay here a moment.” She said softly into his neck. Gale grinned like a fool at that, his body still pulsing dimly with the rush of his release, at her care, at her words, at her….love. They adjusted themselves so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, bringing her further into him.
They lay in content silence, relaxation still swimming through Gales body. He could feel Tav’s soft breath on his neck and it felt like a wordless lullaby. To be holding her so close like this, it was a wonder he couldn’t begin to wrap his dizzy head around. Her breathing slowed and for a moment he thought she might have fallen asleep until he felt her mouth open against his neck.
“I have to admit...I actually did come here to just talk.” She said. Gale pulled his head back to try to look at her and she tilted her head up to meet his eyes. He could swear in the dim light he could make out a small smile on her face. For once he found himself at a loss of words and gaped at her a moment; she did hear him, he realized with a lurch. If the evening hadn’t have worked out as it did and if he wasn’t still so high from his lingering orgasm he might have had the good sense to feel embarrassed. But instead he just returned her smile and gave her another kiss before settling his head down, finding himself unable to focus on any one thought at a time, exhaustion and release finally taking over his body.
Tav lay back down and settled in next to him, letting out another content sigh into his neck. As sleep was about to take him a thought did strike out to him amid the brain fog and hit him like a dagger. How could he be so selfish? He could never just take pleasure like that without return. His senses must have fled him entirely. He raised head again, quicker this time and caused her own head to jerk up.
“Tav. I...what about you? I cant just lay here in bliss, while you remain…. what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t-” His rising panic at the thought of not offering her the same level of pleasure was overtaking his ability to form words. A wide visible smile spread across her face as he rambled and she leaned in to kiss him into silence.
“I am perfectly content, laying here with you if you’ll allow me.” She murmured as sleep seemed to tighten its grip on her. He swallowed away his words, for once too tired to form an argument back and gave her another kiss and a nod before they settled back down again.
“Besides…” Tav breathed out heavy on his neck. “We have time. You can make it up to me next time.” She finished barely above a whisper and he felt her body relax against his.
Gale stewed on that a moment, fighting against sleep. He would. He would make it up to her. For this; for everything. His sleepy mind raced, thoughts giving way to dreams as he conjured up ideas of all he would do to, and with her, to show her his feelings and love and, of course, ever the gentleman, repay her for tonight.
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cialovesklopp · 1 day
Text
GENIUS ➺ MV1
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↳ when mercedes amg hits a new low in their season, they bring in aaliyah prince to put them back on top. but where does she come from?
– synopsis: a ruthless reputation proceeded her. she was known as the engineering genius who turned the silver arrows' season around. turned their middle class car into a championship worthy one – p4s were suddenly turned into pole positions and wins. and they may have not won the world cup that season but everyone's prepared now. a new danger had risen – a threat in form of her.
and some people are willing to do everything to win.
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GENIUS – PLAYLIST! ↳ max verstappen x black! mercedes! engineer! oc
1 -> mercedes [ brent faiyaz ]
2 -> genius [ sia, labrinth, lsd ]
3 -> chérie [ aya nakamura ]
4 -> could've been [ bryson tiller, h.e.r. ]
5 -> like i want you [ giveon ]
6 -> lost you [ snoh aalgera ]
7 -> we can't be friends [ ariana grande ]
8 -> law of attraction [ snoh aalegra ]
9 -> escapism [ raye ]
author's note – firstly, very excited to finally share my new project with you that i've been working on as a side quest while finishing mon amour. i'm really excited to finally start this series especially because it's my first time writing max so i spent a lot of time getting character and looking how most writers portrayed him. i'm very happy to finally share this even if i can't instantly start updating. and sadly, this won't be as fluffy as mon amour.
ps: the banner was inspired by one i saw but I forgot the user (it think there was madelyn cline on it ) so if anyone knows the user pls text me in my inbox so I can credit them for the inspo <3
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OFFICIAL CAST!
yara shahidi... AALIYAH PRINCE ❪ 1997 / nigerian-south african / cancer ❫ — the genius engineer
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madelyn cline... EVA MÜLLER ❪ 1996 / french-german / aquarius ❫ — the best friend
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rome flynn... MICAH EMERSON ❪ 1996 / african-american / virgo ❫ — the brother, she wished for
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CHAPTERS!
PROLOGUE (soon) ➺ where the hell did toto find HER again?
PART ONE — MERCEDES AMG (soon) ➺ it's her first day and she realizes she's in for a lot more than she thought
PART TWO — ...AND AWAY WE GO (soon) ➺ formula one had always been a world of eat or be eaten. there's always a subplot
PART THREE — WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (soon) ➺ when given a choice between a (your heart) and b (your brain), choose b
PART FOUR — LATE NIGHTS (soon) ➺ walls come tumbling down only to reveal several more
PART FIVE — LIKE I WANT YOU (soon) ➺ why does she suddenly feel sixteen again, sneaking around and all that shit?
PART SIX — LAW OF ATTRACTION (soon) ➺ some things are meant to stay secrets, and some people are not meant to be trust
PART SEVEN — LOST YOU (soon) ➺ one step forward results in three hundred steps back and a knife in her heart
PART EIGHT — DOOR ONE OR TWO (soon) ➺ what is one supposed to choose between two heavy doors that both include some poison?
❪ omg i’m soo excited to write this. hope you all enjoy and that i can update this as quick as possible <3 ❫
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inuiiwonderland · 1 day
Text
Twisted Captivity
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Chapter 3
Twst third years x fem reader
A/n: Sorry for the long wait! This chapter is a bit longer than the first and second one so I hope you guys enjoy! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes and grammar it’s like really late rn and I’m sleep deprived😵‍💫
Words:1.3k
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You spent half an hour talking to both ace and deuce in the heartslabyul enclosure. The two were absolutely curious creatures. They asked all sorts of questions about humans and what they eat. (With the best of their ability since they couldn’t speak the human language all to well)
You of course answered their questions with the best of your ability. While the three of you chatted you also decided to ask your fair share of questions about merpeople.
The two of them were rather thrilled when you asked. With the little bit of human language that they know, they started telling you about all sorts of traditions, stories, and cultures about them and their people. You were amazed as you wrote everything- well rather try since they said so much you couldn’t keep up.
You were all so caught up in the conversation that you didn’t realize that you still had to go visit the savanaclaw enclosure!
“Shit! I’m so sorry you two but I have to go!”
“Go?”
“Why?”
“I forgot that Crowley also asked for me to go visit the savanaclaw enclosure! Shoot I’m late! Bye guys I’ll see you two later!” You quickly grabbed your things and bolted right out of there. The two mermen sadly watched as you left.
-
You ran as fast as you could to get to the next enclosure that you were supposed to be at 20 minutes ago.
Your lungs burned and your legs felt wobbly but you decided to ignore it all and push yourself to run even faster. The relief that ran through your body when the doors to the enclosure came into view as you slowed down and started catching your breath.
“Shit! Ah I can’t breathe-“
“You’re late!” You quickly looked up to see a man who seemed to be in his late 50s look down at you with a raised brow.
“I’m sorry!” You bowed while also trying to steady your breathing.
The man just shook his head before sighing.
“Since you’re still new, I suppose I can let this slide for today. But next time I won’t, so please make sure you make it here on time”
You could only nod as you still tried to catch your breath. The man then handed you a silver bucket. You curiously looked in only to see a pile of dead fish. You grimace at the sight before looking back at the man.
“It’s their feeding time. I suppose Crowley also mentioned that you’ll be in charge of feeding the mers, no?”
“Ah yes he did say that” you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck as you gave him a sheepish smile.
“Well I suggest you go in and feed them. One of them is very upset right now. He doesn’t like waiting when it comes to feeding time”
“Right. And thank you”
“Mhm”
He moved out the way as you opened the door. You were once again met with a beautiful sight but too bad you didn’t have the time to gawk and admire it this time since you have hungry mers to feed.
You walked in and looked around before you saw them. There were multiple mers surrounding a giant rock and you can tell some looked very upset.
You gulp before quickly making your way over to them. One of the mers seemed to have noticed you as they chirped and whistled which caused everyone to turn and look at you.
“Sorry for the wait” The moment they saw the bucket. They grew Wild.
You gasp as some tried yanking the thing out of your hands but you quickly backed up before they could.
The hell?! They’re acting like they haven’t seen food before or something!
You quickly grabbed a fish before throwing it in the water. They all went wild so you quickly threw more in until there were only three left.
You looked around to see if everyone got one and once you saw how everyone had their own fish you let out a sigh of relief.
You looked down at the bucket and wondered if you should take it back or just give them extra.
You were in deep thought until you heard a whistle
You look down to see a mer. He pointed at the bucket and then his stomach.
“Oh! I’m sorry here” You grabbed one of the fish from the bucket before throwing it to him. The boy quickly grabs it before scarfing it down.
Poor guy….does Crowley feed any of them at all?
Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you felt webbed hands wrap around your ankles. You gasp as you look down to see the mer pointing at the bucket again.
“I’m sorry but I already gave you some already. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone if I gave you another”
The mer tilts his head in confusion before pointing at himself and shaking his head. Now you were the one confused. You watch as the mer points at the bucket again but then he turns around and points at something.
You look to see a cave. He was pointing at the cave.
“Do you have some friends in there that haven’t gotten any?” The mer only nods as you sigh.
“Alright, take me to em” The mer then motions you to follow him as he starts swimming towards the cave.
Once you two got there, you looked at him and he motions you inside. He swims right in and you follow suit. You were thankful that there was a small path for you to be able to walk right in. You were careful, making sure you didn't slip and fall right into the water.
The mer stops and calls out who you assume to be his friends.
You felt a shiver go down your spine as you swear you heard something similar to a growl. You gulp as two mermen make their presence known as the other one just swims away.
“I-I have your food” You say as you raise the bucket. One of them, the one with white hair swims up to you as you try to stay still.
Jeez….I sometimes forget how scary some look.
He eyes the bucket curiously before sniffing it. Once he is satisfied, he nods before patiently waiting for you to give him one.
“Oh! Here” You gave him the fish and he thanks you with a nod. You watch as he also scarfs it down and your heart couldn’t help but break.
Does anyone even feed them? They eat like they haven’t eaten in ages!
He senses your stare and quickly swims away. Like he was shy.
You watch as he swims deeper into the cave. You then turn to the other one who was already staring intensely at you. You gulp as you grab the last fish from the bucket and show it to him.
“Here” The mer just stares at you. You didn’t know what to say or do so you just stood there uncomfortably with a dead fish in your hand.
Damn it. Did I say or do something weird? Feels like I’m being judged.
You just carefully placed it down on one of the rocks that you saw near you before getting up.
“Well I guess it’s time for me to go. Enjoy your um…meal!” And you bolted right up out of there.
The man just watched as you ran away.
Yes he was mad that you were late with his meal but he was more surprised that you dared step foot into this cave. Some keepers either don’t feed him at all for this reason or just hand the fish to one of the two mers with him so that they can give him his food.
You were sure a interesting one that’s for sure
He grabs the fish before swimming deeper into the darkness of the cave.
What an interesting human
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Taglist: @ruisann @roseapov @anunholyabomination @owodi @mochi-lover26 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @floevi @thatpersonuouknow @h0rr0r-10ver-69
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little-sleepy-owl · 2 days
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𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,
who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.
this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.
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oh? so, you're just like him.
the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?
though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.
but… becoming your first?
“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”
it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.
that's a first for him too, after all.
give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.
a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!
hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)
now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.
he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.
you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.
you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.
none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.
judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.
inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.
(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)
he needs to talk things out first.
“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”
the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.
he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.
his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.
and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.
he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?
jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.
he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.
you never saw this, either.
he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.
“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–
you don't want to continue this thought right now.
he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.
he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.
his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.
he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.
he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.
he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.
but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.
that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.
if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.
expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.
he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.
it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.
humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.
but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.
set some boundaries and you'll be alright.
once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.
will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.
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he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.
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justporo · 11 hours
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
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As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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leadexorcist · 2 days
Text
I Want You to Lose Control
Summary: Adam just wanted Lucifer to lose control
WARNING: Smut, Praise Kink, Heavy Feminization, Crossdressing, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Car Sex, Thigh Riding, Fingering, Eye Contact, Finger Sucking, Top Lucifer Morningstar, Bottom Adam, Adam has a Pussy, Double Penetration(kinda), Anal Fingering(kinda), Established Relationship
Adam’s content.
He’s happy, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
And he’s finally with the love of his life, well, afterlife, but still.
Just as it should have been since that damn Garden.
Sure, coming back as a Sinner was the last fucking thing on Adam’s mind after the last Extermination Day, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have rekindle what he thought was lost, way back in Eden.
Lucifer had offered a deal that Adam couldn’t turn down, protection from Hell that wanted to do less than savory things to the First Man, due to the past Exterminations.
It was really a no brainer on what Adam’s answer was.
Since then, Adam had been staying at the Hotel, and as he would hate to admit it. It was actually kinda nice. There weren’t any eyes on him all the time, no expectations he had to meet. He was just Adam.
But Lucifer had been awkward, well he’s always awkward, but more than usual? And at first it was easy to ignore, until Adam noticed it was just around him, that Lucifer loses his cool, making everything tense and leaving everyone embarrassed, sans Adam, who was just confused.
Surprisingly, it was Husk, who spilled to Adam late one night, on why Lucifer was so off.
And let’s just say the night ended with Lucifer going to sleep, a very happy man, cuddling with his Dove.
The past few weeks after that had been the same, just with more Lucifer involved and Adam couldn't find it in himself to particularly mind Lucifer's attention was solely focused on him, just like he had always wanted.
And the sex! Fuck, Adam had never felt so safe, wanted, cherished, loved.
Lucifer always make sure if he’s okay and comfortable, but Adam is getting fucking sick of it.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves what he has with Lucifer in and out of the bedroom, it's just..
Adam wanted Lucifer to lose control, just this once.
So when he put on a black silk dress, he had a mission; Drive Lucifer Fucking Crazy. Lucifer was already at the bar with the rest of their friends and Adam was supposed to meet them as soon as he finished tending his garden. It was a gift from Lucifer that left Adam with a very sore throat when he showed Lucifer how thankful he was.
Usually, it would take Adam a while to get out of his garden, but he finished early, he was a man on a mission after all.
His dress barely covered his ass, it was too revealing, but Adam knew how he looked, knew that people usually liked him because he was hot. He put on red lipstick, finishing the look with a gold choker on his neck, a L dangling from it. He could feel all eyes on him when he stepped into the dive bar, he made his way to the bar, ordering a glass of vodka. The bartender had handed it over with a compliment, and Adam would have thanked the man, if it wasn’t for his not so subtle eye-fucking and the excessive lick of his lips. He shuddered in disgust and ignored the man, making his way to the booth that the Hazbin’s had occupied, after spotting them the minute he walked in.
Lucifer actually choked on his drink when he saw him, and Adam hid a smug smirk behind the rim of the glass in his hand, and was quickly pulled to Lucifer’s side, who was content to pepper kisses on his neck and collarbone as Adam talked to the rest of the group. Soon they scattered around, some dancing, some to the pool tables, and Adam and Lucifer were left alone.
“Oh, Adam baby,” Lucifer groaned into His Dove’s neck, inhaling his scent. “Do you actually wanna kill me?”
“Hello to you too, Luci,” Adam snickered, and Lucifer pulled away from the tempting pale neck to kiss him, Adam’s hand softly brushing his red circled cheeks.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Lucifer mumbled against Adam’s lips, slowly pulling him into his lap. Adam ignored what he said and kept on kissing him, sucking his long snake tongue into his mouth, his hands playing with the blonde hairs at the nape of the shorters neck. Lucifer sighed contentedly, happy to stay there, making out with His Dove.
“Let’s go home?” Adam whispered as he pulled away, his lips swollen, Lucifer’s face messed up, red lipstick smeared all over his chin and mouth, he looked up at Adam, dazed. Adam grinded on a thin but muscular thigh, letting out a soft moan. “Please, Luci?”
“Fuck, yes baby,” Lucifer was still nodding as he was led outside by Adam, their hands entertwined. Adam heard him growl, Lucifer’s free hand squeezing his ass. Thankfully, the Royal Limo was waiting outside for them, and they quickly climbed into the backseat.
“Adam, baby, light of my life,” Lucifer said with a groan as Adam straddled him again, slowly riding his thigh. “You look so fucking good like this,” Lucifer whispered, pushing his fingers past plump lips, Adam sucking them as a soft moan escapes his mouth at the praise. Lucifer pushed his thigh into Adam’s core, helping him grind more firmly, Adam kept looking into red eyes, letting out soft whines as he sucked on the offered fingers. “Such a good girl, my prettiest good girl.”
“Fuck,” Adam whimpered, burying his head into Lucifer’s neck now that both of Lucifer’s hands are on his hips, pulling him down harder. Lucifer’s slacks were wet, ruined by Adam, but he groans each time he feels his wetness spread on him. Adam was reaching his climax, letting out soft ‘Ah, ah, ah’s’ repeatedly, his plush thighs are shaking as he loses his rhythm, Lucifer keeps his hands on his hips, helping him ride his orgasm. Adam keeps his face buried into Lucifer’s neck, biting and sucking.
“Thank you, Sebastian.” Lucifer says, carrying Adam and basically running to their shared room. Adam makes a small mental note to ask Lucifer to give the man a raise, poor man is probably traumatized. But Lucifer pushes him against the door as soon as they step inside, a knee between his legs.
“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” Lucifer groans into his collarbone, leaving a trail of bruises that Adam wouldn’t mind showing off. “Coming into the bar, looking like this, I wanted to rip this dress off as soon as you walked in, taking you in front of everyone, especially in front of the ones who stared for far too long,” Lucifer carefully took off the silk dress. “I really like this one, I don’t wanna ruin it,” he answered sheepishly as Adam arched a brow at him.
“But Luci~! What if I wanted you to lose control?” Adam purred against his lips, pushing down against the knee between his legs. “What if I wanted you to bend me over that table and fuck me in front of all those people? Until I’m so sore I can barely walk. Then everyone would see how good you fuck me.”
“Holy fucking shit, Dove, your driving me crazy,” Lucifer groaned into his neck as Adam, wrapped his legs around his waist, rubbing against the firm muscle he can feel through Lucifer’s button up. Lucifer sucks a nipple into his mouth, backing until he sits down on a sofa, Adam on his lap, riding his thigh once again. “Open your mouth for me baby,” Lucifer says as he pushes three fingers into his mouth, and Adam sucks on them greedily. “That fucking mouth of yours, you just love sucking, don’t you?”
Adam mewls, Lucifer’s other hand strokes his face softly, and Adam leans into the touch, moving his hips slower. “I’ll take care of you, My Love,” Lucifer whispers against his plump mouth, as his wet fingers dip inside Adam’s cunt, his thumb rubbing firm circles on the others stiff clit. “Will you be a good girl for me?”
“I’ll be your best girl,” Adam whines into his mouth as Lucifer’s fingers move inside him, stroking his sweet spot relentlessly. Lucifer helps him ride his fingers as he pulls and pinch his nipples, addicted to the noises Adam lets out breathlessly, he twists his fingers suddenly, and Adam arches his back, his plush chest pushed into Lucifer’s face, a bright blush spreading to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
“That’s it baby,” Lucifer coos, kissing his neck and biting, soothing the bites with his long tongue. “You’re so beautiful like this.” Adam whimpers, dropping his head onto Lucifer’s shoulder.
Lucifer carries him to their bedroom, dropping him on the bed and crawling on top of him. “I’m nowhere near done with you,” Lucifer says with a wicked grin and snarl as Adam pushes his shirt off his shoulders. “Wanna taste you,” Lucifer mumbles out as he trails wet kisses down Adam’s body. He pushes Adam’s legs apart, an appreciative hum leaving his mouth as he inhales his scent, kissing the inside of those thighs, leaving red angry marks on pale skin, letting out hot soft breathes on Adam’s quivering cunt, listening to him moan and watching him chase his mouth, such a beautiful mess. Lucifer quickly leans down and sucks his clit, hard, and Adam cums, hard. Lucifer laughs softly as he licks up the mess he made. He stands up and takes off his pants, flipping Adam onto his stomach, two thumbs pressing on back dimples.
“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Lucifer praised. “Spread out, looking so fucked,” Lucifer presses his cock into Adam’s dripping cunt, slowly pushing in, Adam moans high and loud into the pillows. “I bet my throne you look the best with my cock snuggled deep inside of you.”
“God, Luci~,” Adam moans, his voice gone. “Fuck me, please,” he pushes back, but Lucifer keeps him in place, admiring how good he looks. He pushes in, his thick cock sinking lower, spreading Adam out as he groans and thrashes.
“What a beautiful mess,” Lucifer whispers, his chest flushed to Adam’s back, a lazy rhythm of pushing and pulling, wet slick noises filling the room. “My beautiful mess,” Lucifer presses soft feather kisses between Adam’s shoulder blades and back, his thumb now pushing into that tight puckered hole, his other thumb rubbing firm circles on his clit, helping him relax. “I wanted to fuck your ass for so long, baby,” Lucifer whispers, as Adam’s high moans fill the room, Lucifer’s thumb finally pops inside. “You’re so tight, baby, do you think I can fit my cock?”
“You’ll make it fit. You always do” Adam moans, his words slurred. “Please, fuck. Please Luci~!”
”What do you want, baby?” Lucifer asks, pushing all the way in, leaving kisses on Adam’s back. “Tell me, anything for you.”
"I don’t know,” Adam sobs into the pillow, frustrated. “Make me feel good, Lucifer.”
"I’ll make you feel good, My Love,” Lucifer promises, pulling his thumb out. “Relax for me?”
"Yes,” Adam breathed out, now laying on his back, spreading his legs farther. “Anything for you,” he echoes, Lucifer’s smile is full of love as he leans down, kissing him thoroughly. “Tell me if it’s too much?” Lucifer says, looking into Adam’s eyes, who nods, enthusiastic.
Lucifer pushes his cock into Adam, slow and deliberate. Before setting a pace that drives him wild, giving it to him how he likes it, fast and dirty, Adam’s moans drive him wild, and before he knows it Lucifer cums undone, absolutely ruined as he kisses Adam’s pale throat, who rides out his orgasm slowly.
"Up for another round?” Lucifer asks after a while, trailing light kisses on Adam’s jaw. “Or do you wanna take a bath and then cuddle?”
"A bath sounds perfect, Lu,” Adam’s voice is raspy, and Lucifer’s sure he’d fall to his knees if he wasn’t already lying on bed, he purrs into the bruised up neck as fingers softly scratch his scalp.
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lis-likes-fics · 2 days
Text
Your Delusion
Pairing: dark!Dream of the Endless x Reader Word Count: 4.8k words Warnings: NSFW, dubcon, somnophilia, fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, forced(?) breeding, swearing... A/N: This was to get me out of Writer's Block. Kind of worked? Dream is a bit (ridiculously) delulu in here. He's doing some mental gymnastics in here, and I applaud him cause same. Anyway, enjoy this strange, strange man.
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You look so beautiful like this.
Wrapped in your sheets with your eyes so delicately closed, lips so delicately parted, breaths so delicately passed, you look like a dream. My dream.
And you shall always be mine.
No matter what you may believe.
Your rejection was a white hot burn in my chest, a clawing in my throat. The searing courses through my veins, but I know that I cannot blame you for what you had said. You meant only the best, you meant only not to worry me.
But you shouldn't need to worry. Not about such things.
When I saw you in that field, my field—Fiddler’s Green—I knew then and there that I could await our union no longer. I had to have you, I had to keep you.
You turned when you felt me near, and your eyes filled with confusion for just a moment before the recognition of my presence replaced it. You always knew it was me in the end. No matter how many dreams you dreamt.
“Dream lord,” you greeted me, with a smile so soft and true. Oh, how I love your smile.
I took slow steps across the green grasses beneath me, slowly approaching. “It has been a while since you have come here.”
I usually find you with the brothers of the First Story, or perhaps with Lucienne in the library. Other days, you would wander through other fields or amongst the waters of the Golden Rivers. But not then.
Then, you stood in the flowers of Fiddler’s Green. The very place we first met.
“How are you?” I wondered.
You glanced away. It was a shy little gesture, and a quick one at that. In no time, your eyes were back to me and it meant the world. “Better now,” you mumbled, placing your hand against a tree. “I almost forgot how beautiful this place was.”
Though I would usually acknowledge your words, I cannot help but to stare. “I have missed you.” I cannot always find time to see you with all the work I find myself caught in, but when I do, you never disappoint. It had been a couple of nights since last we saw one another, but it was a couple of nights too long.
“I missed you, too.” You said it as though you truly meant it, and that was all I needed. “How have you been doing?”
“Thinking.” I moved closer. There was still too much distance between us.
You tilted your head gently. “About?”
“Many things,” I shrugged. “But mostly you.”
You seemed almost taken aback by what I said, but you remain as kind as ever. “Me?” you chuckled—a bashful thing, really.
My eyes never left you. You're so beautiful, I mustn't ever look away. Perhaps I may lose you if I do…
“I can't keep you from my mind.” I watched as your smile faltered and your face shifted. “Every moment, I think of you.”
You tried to take a step back, but I grabbed your hands and held them within mine. I let the words spill, and I confessed what I had been holding in all this time. “You come and you go from my realm as you please. You smile and laugh as though any being could resist falling for the very thought of you. I look at you, and I know that what I feel is true.”
You looked away from me, down at our hands joined so firmly in one another. You close your eyes shut, and you squeeze them tight. “Dream, I don't think I understand.”
Then I would help you understand. You needed to know how much I need you, how much I crave you.
“I long for you,” I confessed. “Your beauty, your touch, your heart… And I can't keep from you any longer, my dear.”
I stepped even closer, the distance nearly squashed as I set my forehead against your own. “Dream,” your voice seemed so far away, so uncertain. But you mustn't feel that way.
“Be mine,” the desperation began to become clearer in my voice. “Join me as my wife and queen.” My thumb brushed the finger where your wedding ring would be placed. I would almost feel it now… “I shall protect you with my life and love you with all that I am–”
“No.”
The icy chill of your disagreement, the stern tone of your voice, it created a sour taste on my tongue that I deeply resented.
I did not break away from you, though my grip on your hands may have tightened a bit more than they should have. “What?” My voice is low, upset and full of disbelief. You pulled your hands from mine, and I knew that I had to let you or else I may have hurt you.
“Dream…” you sighed heavily, like it pained you. “I can't.”
My eyes fixed on you, and I thought you could see the sudden darkness in them. Perhaps you did, but it wasn't enough.
“Why not?”
“Look at you.” You gesture toward me, taking another few steps away to establish a distance that left me cold. Your voice was not as steady as I'm sure you hoped it would be, but it was firm nonetheless. “Look at me.”
Your hand slapped back down to your side. It was a defeated movement. Hopelessness filled you in the form of tears, and that's how I knew you cared.
“You are the King of Dreams,” you continued, “one of the Endless, the fucking—ruler of sleep and unconsciousness, who's been alive for eons.”
Your brows knitted together, and your hand reaches across your frame. “I'm some…human you've been talking to for the last year.”
I swallowed thickly, the sourness turning to a bitter agony. “Don't you love me?”
I sound pathetic asking, but I simply could not go another moment without knowing.
“Of course I love you!” you exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The leaves in the trees around us shook incessantly, yet there was no wind. Your voice was weaker when you spoke again. “How can I not?”
Hope filled me, if only for a moment. If you loved me so, then why do you choose to deny me your hand?
“But I can't have you,” you explained. “I'm mortal, you're Endless. I will die, and you will go on living for damn near the rest of eternity.”
If time was what concerned you, we could take it away.
“I can get you immortality.” I tried to step closer, but you stepped away.
You shook your head. “It's not mine to take.”
It was times like these where I wish you weren't so good. It was times like these where I wish you were more selfish, more possessive.
“Nonsense,” I disagreed. “If you were mine, the whole of the Dreaming would be yours.” You grunted with such frustration that my own crawled up my neck and into my teeth.
“Morpheus.” I still don't like the way you said it…with such a stern resolve, so bitter and broken. “I can't… I've heard about what happens to those who love the Endless.”
I nearly scoff. “Is that what this is about?” I shake my head.
If danger was what concerned you, I would quash the threats set against my love.
“As I said, I can protect you.”
“I'm not afraid for me,” you urged, “I'm afraid for you.” Oh, my love, you hurt me so. “You've lost so much, I can't hurt you like that.” You took tentative steps away from me, looking down and finding it so difficult to reach my gaze. “It is easier for you to let me go and move on, than to humor this ‘relationship’ and get the both of us hurt in the process.”
You looked up, despite the pain, and you moved forward to take my face in your hands. I must close my eyes to relieve the ache of you so close to me now. Oh, how deeply you cut…
“Forget about me,” you insisted, trying to smile for my sake. I could see how much it hurt you. “I know it's not fair, but it's how it has to be.” When my hands land on your waist, you drop yours from my face.
Reluctantly, you set your hands on my wrists and pulled them slowly away from you. Your voice was soft, wavery. You were trying not to cry. “I am not meant for you.” You take a deep breath in. “And you were never meant for me.”
I didn't know what to say. Though, I suppose it did not matter, for the next moment, you were gone. You left from the Dreaming, and you were lost from my sight.
But that was days ago. You have been avoiding me since.
But I've been there. At every turn, I have been there. And I know you feel me, you know that I am always there—lurking, watching, waiting.
You know it's me when you glance over your shoulder for the shadow in the corner of your eye. You know it's me in the shiver down your spine, the phantom billow of my robes as I ghost past. You know it's me in the faintest sound of breath out of sync with your own.
And I can tell that you know it's me now, in the walls of your bedroom while you lay fast asleep. You look so beautiful, soft and serene. To be in your dreams is one thing, but to watch you lost in your sleep is something else. To know that my realm has so much power, so much influence over something as perfect as you… If only I could watch you sleep forever.
Perhaps I could… but I shall not.
I don't understand how you were so sure of how deeply we did not belong, but I did know that you were wrong. Of course you're wrong.
We are meant to be together. We always were and we always will be. I am not prepared to let you go.
You worry so deeply about us, my well-being and yours if anything were to happen. But as long as there was a gap between us, we could never be together. If our eternal marriage wasn't enough to fill that, then I would just have to find something else.
Something deeper. Something more important than bands on our fingers.
And every kingdom needs its heir.
I shed my robes, the sky hidden beneath them as black as the darkest sapphires. My gentle steps are silent as I approach, the moonlight glinting on your skin now blocked by my frame.
Slowly, I sit on the bed beside you, and I cannot resist the touch of my hand against your cheek. You're so soft and sweet, especially when you lean your face into my hand. I smile, and I know you love me.
I lean down ever so slowly, and my lips press to your forehead. Your head shifts, a little keen against me. Oh, how you beg for my touch, my darling.
And I shall give it.
I remove the covers from your body, revealing you to me. Your shirt rides up your belly, exposing the soft expanse of your skin to me. I place my hand there, and hear you sigh. I slide down, my fingers caressing your skin until my hand dips below your shorts and presses to the cotton of your undergarment.
Your breath hitches when you feel my fingers against your clothed clit, brushing so gently, it's like a phantom touch. Still, you do not wake.
Spreading your legs for me, I cup your perfect little pussy in my palm and sigh. Just as I thought you'd be, warm and wet and waiting for me. I tease, stroking gently with my fingers to bring your arousal further. You squirm against my touch, but still you do not wake. You know I am here, you have no reason to fret.
I knew you loved me.
I lean down and kiss you, though you're so tired you do not kiss back. But that’s alright, you are all I need.
I pull away from you, standing once again and standing at the foot of the bed. I grab at the waistband of your shorts and pull them and your panties down your legs, pausing when you stir too much. When you no longer shift, I pull them off completely.
Oh, you are lovely.
My hands stroke the expanse of your smooth skin, and you sigh at my every touch. Your brows knit together, a far off focus in your dreamland. My fingers tease the seam of your sweet cunt once more, delving between your wetting folds to feel how hot you are around me.
You begin to stir again, but my hand to your stomach eases you. I do not want you to wake yet. Not yet. Soon.
Your walls clench around my finger, and I reward them with another. A tiny whimper slips through your lips. I massage my fingers in and out of you, deep and slow movements that coax more and more wetness from your cunt. My thumb presses to your clit, and your hips roll against me very slightly.
I can no longer control myself. I move onto my knees and hold your legs apart. I just want to taste you. And when my tongue meets the arousal seeping from your lips, a deep moan rumbles within me.
Such sweet honey you make all for me, only for me. I suckle around you, licking and sucking and tasting you with a growing enthusiasm. Your tiny whimpers are becoming moans, broken and needy as you keen into my touch. Your fists clench and unclench, your thighs try to close, your hips roll against my mouth. But I keep you steady, steady and still and open wide for me.
As I suck around your clit, I can feel you clenching around my tongue, which licks in and out of you and laps up your sweetness. You're so close, I can feel it, I can taste it. Your desperation for a release is a potent syrup on my tongue.
Your body shakes and your mewling moans fill the room when you come undone. You gasp, a pitchy, wonderful sound that makes me suck harder around your pulsing clit. You try to break away from me, but I only pull you closer, drunk on your taste and refusing to let up until I have had my fill.
It's a wonderful thing, watching you cum for me so deep in your sleep. I can see flashes of your dreams behind my eyes, skin against skin and warmth and passion and even brief images of me. I feel you tremble beneath me, shuddering and whimpering so sweetly.
I work you through your brief overstimulation, groaning around your pussy as your taste overcomes my senses. The intoxication is a precious salve to my hunger for you, but it does not last long. No, I will never not hunger for you.
And I soon shall never have to find myself starved of you either.
The next time you cum, your back arches off the bed and your mewls mix with your heavy gasp. When I hear the sound of your quickening heart and feel the tug of your slowly building consciousness, I pull apart from you.
Shh. Not yet. Sleep, my love. Soon you shall awake and see me giving you all that you desire.
I place my hand to hold your cheek, and your fluttering eyes steady once more as they seal shut in your returning slumber. And when all is right, I smile. Your slick allows my fingers to glide right through.
Perfect.
I move away, stripping the both of us until we're nothing but skin. The bed dips under my weight, and I pull your thighs over my legs.
Taking my cock in my hand, I hiss lightly. You've truly made a mess of me: hot and hard and leaking. I lean down to you, pressing my lips to the side of your face and dipping down into your neck.
“Don't worry, my love,” I whisper in your ear. “We shall be together.”
I line myself with you, and holding my breath, I thrust inside. Warmth blossoms along my body, and I shudder at the tight heat which welcomes me. “All of us.���
You whine as I push farther inside of you, going deeper and deeper until you've taken me all the way. A thick sigh heaves from my chest at the way you clench, and my hips stutter at the feeling. I pull back and thrust in once more, building a steady rhythm that grows with my passion and desperation for you.
You whimper and moan, squirming beneath me as you stir beneath the slumber I've placed you in. The images in your mind—our bodies, our lips, flashes and breaths—they mix like a cocktail that further my intoxication.
My thrusts are perhaps a bit too rushed for our first time together, but I cannot help it. You are better than I have ever imagined you'd be. I want to savor this, to take my time with you, to cherish each feeling and each taste and each sight…
But we shall have plenty of time for that in the future. Right now, I must ravage your body lying so pliant and willing for me.
I kiss your neck, taking the soft flesh between my teeth and sucking. You taste like flowers and honey, a precious taste I shall never tire of. I rut into you, listening to the sweet sounds of your slick along my cock, listening to your weak moans, your needy whimpers. I'm determined to make you cum with me as I rub your aching little clit with the pad of my thumb.
My need for you trumps everything else. I want nothing more than to bury myself as deeply inside of you as I possibly can and fill you with my love, a love that would take root within you and grow our dearest child. I hook my arms underneath your thighs and put you in the perfect position to receive it, chest to chest as I bury my face in the warm column of your throat.
“Oh, my love.” The words spill out of me as the pleasure grips my throat, and I thrust deeply inside of you. In the same thrust, your back arches off the bed and you actually shake in my arms as you cum around my cock, squeezing me so tight that I have no choice but to cum inside of you.
A rough groan tears through my throat and into your ear. As your tight pussy trembles around you, you gasp as the pleasure rips through you. I feel the harsh tug of sleep being taken from you, and you fully awake with me still buried so perfectly in your cunt.
You choke on my name, and the sound is so sweet that my hips stutter in a half-thrust that pulls a moan out of you. I smile, pulling back without pulling out and looking down at you. You're so beautiful like this, dazed from the pleasure, still coated in sleep with the confusion of it all.
“Dream,” you whisper again, your voice thick with sleep and something else. “Dream, what–?”
You don't have time to speak because I have already begun fucking inside of you again. I'm not quite done yet—I want to make certain that you shall carry my heir in your belly, certain that I shall claim you forever.
And I'm already so addicted to the feeling of your body. To be without it would be a crime.
With the relief of a release, I can focus now as I gaze down at you. My hips thrust in and out—a steady, quick, rough rhythm that has you moaning with loud and helpless sounds that are music to my ears. Your hands reach up, clenching my arms with an uncertain goal.
You struggle to speak, so driven by your lust for me that all you can do is form wordless words as I fuck you. You curse and swear, glassy eyes on me as I hold you close.
Suddenly, I pull out of you, and the most pathetic whine slips from your throat. I flip you onto your belly, spreading your legs and pushing your chest down as I enter you from behind. You welcome me, as I knew you would. My perfect girl.
“Hello, my darling,” I whisper through a groan after a particularly rough thrust. “Did you miss me?”
You mutter something of my name, and I smile.
“I missed you, too,” I say. I press my chest to your back, bringing my hand to wrap around your neck so gently. “But I shall never leave you again. And you shall never leave me.”
You try to say something but it doesn't matter. I pick up my pace, my strength. I hold you tightly and fuck into you with everything that I have. As my fingers circle your abused clit, you moan and gasp for breath as all the pleasure stacks on top of you, one right after the other.
“You're so good for me, my love,” I sigh. “You're always so good for me, as you sleep and as you wake.” Another whimper resounds.
I've longed for this moment for so long. This moment where you would be beneath me, moaning my name and welcoming me into your intimate warmth. Your body moves against me, seeking me out and shuddering under my touch as I give you everything you need. All the slick has built with the addition of my cum dripping out of you, coating me and the sheets below in white. The sounds we make together—the moans, the creaks, the smacks—it's a beautiful cacophony of sweet music. I could stay here forever, locked in this room with you and your body and your love, fucking you with all my passion and making love to you with all my heart.
Your hand reaches out to grab something, settling for the pillow, which you grip so hard, it looks as though you may tear into the fabric. The pictures in your mind have become so much more muddled. Now they're flashes of white, the vague movements of bodies and the vague sounds of groans. It's a mess, a beautiful mess of tangled thoughts and watered down cohesion.
Your moans shudder like cries when I pull another orgasm from your weak little body. As I fuck you through it, the pleasure becomes all the better as you go blinded by it.
“So perfect, my beautiful dear.” I pull out of you, and you sigh as I do, as if you think this is over. I turn you back onto your back.
My knuckles smooth gently down the side of your face as you stare up at me, your eyes glazed over. I kiss you, a deep, bruising kiss filled with all of my lust for you. It takes you a moment, but you kiss back. It's a wonderful feeling.
As our lips are joined, I join our bodies once more. You gasp into my mouth as my cock fills you once more. I trail my kisses along your jaw and back to your neck, painting you in love bites and taking you as mine.
My hips snap into you, my hands hold you tight, my lips lave along your skin. Oh, how I love you so. It shows in the way that I thrust, in the way that I sigh, in the way that I kiss, in the way that I hold you close to me. I can't let go.
A couple of stray tears slip down your cheeks, and I kiss them away. Poor thing, so full of pleasure that you're crying for it.
Without giving you much time to recover, my thumb is at your clit again. I've become utterly intoxicated with the sight of your undoing: the way you tremble and shake, the way you gasp and sigh. I love you.
And for a while, we stay like this, rocking and grinding and moaning into one another. The sight of our faces are drenched in utter bliss, and I bask in the moment. I can feel the beginnings of a second release prickling within me, and my steady thrusts begin to falter.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Your dazed eyes look up at me, your question interrupted by a moan. “Say–ah! Say what?”
“Tell me that you love me. As I love you.” I press my forehead against yours, rutting into you with all my strength as I begin to lose control. “Tell me, my darling. Tell me.”
“I…” You clench your jaw, arching your back as you struggle to speak through your pleasure. “Fuck, Dream.”
Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are closed so sweetly. But I need to hear you say it. I need it. “Say it.” My grip on your hip tightens, my thumb on your clit becomes more ruthless.
Lost in euphoria, you gasp and nearly choke on the words you give to me. “I love you.” You huff out a heavy breath, holding me tighter as your lips search for my skin. Their sloppy contact slides against me, wanting nothing more than to feel my skin against you. “I love you, Dream. Fuck, don’t stop, I love you.”
I sigh at the pleasure it gives me to hear those words on your delicate lips. “Again. Say it again.”
“I love you.” A whimpering sound mixes with a groan. “I love you, Dream.”
My fuse is running out, and with the way you tighten around me, I don’t stand a chance as my rough thrusts bring the both of us even closer to our highs. I can taste it on my tongue. The taste of your honeyed flower skin and your sweet arousal is my own personal wine.
My voice is barely a whisper in my haste. “Say it.”
“I love you, Morpheus.”
The dam breaks as I spill inside of you, shoving my cock as deep as I could possibly reach. Your gasp joins mine, and our sounds mingle with heaving breaths, your pitchy moans mixing with my deepened ones. You hold me as close as I hold you, and our lips slot together in the white noise of our ecstasy.
My hips continue their endless pursuit within you, desperate rolls thrusting within you just to make certain we’ve created our heir. For a while, I lay there on top of you, sparing you my weight but offering my warmth as I stay comfortably sheathed within you. Our gasping breaths have settled to gentle sighs, and you lay limply beneath me as you stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating.
When the time has unfortunately come to remove myself from you, I do as I adjust some hair from your face and kiss your forehead.
There was a fog in the room that I had not noticed before—not a physical one, of course. It’s beginning to clear in the aftermath of our combined pleasure. Your eyes slowly find mine, glazed still but the clearest they have been all night. Now that the blinding bliss has settled and you’ve fully awakened, there’s a clarity you’ve suddenly gained. You take in the sight of my face and I smile down at you, brushing my thumb over your cheek.
“Dream,” you mutter gently, to which I hum. “What have you done?”
My smile grows. I place a kiss to your lips, one that you seem to have trouble returning. Hooking my finger under your chin, I ensure you see me as I speak softly, a gentle hum that I know you shall hear.
“No one shall steal you from me now. Not even Death, no one. You are mine and only mine.”
Your eyes are glossy now, unshed tears gracing them that I hope to wipe away. “Dream,” you whisper, holding onto me with a tight grasp that I embrace. You look like you’ll say something, something dire and important. Instead, you close your mouth and smile, the kind of smile that must be pushed for.
“I love you,” you whisper. There’s an undertone to it that I dismiss. You’re tired, that’s all. I know you love me, and that’s all that matters.
I smile, kissing you again with all the love in my heart. My hand on your waist tightens, and I must remember that you are human. Pulling away from your lips, I brush my finger over your bottom one.
“I love you, too, my darling wife.”
Nothing can take that from us now.
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accio-victuuri · 8 hours
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4/29 candies to enjoy ^^ 🍭🍬🍩
this was a busy day for us cpfs. so i’m gonna compile some bits that made our cpn-senses go off! 😂
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the most obvious, and my fave, because of how it follows the pattern is them not overlapping their releases. i thought gg was gonna release the gucci stuff at his usual 10:05 or 10:10 but he didn’t. that’s because wyb had jeanswest release on 10:30. i love how that was given it’s time till 13:00 when gg posted the ad. i’m clowning cause 13 is yizhan! and then 13:20 will be the weibo live for FPU, which was kinda delayed too when it went on. some more materials for GUCCI was released throughout the day but moreso on international platforms.
it’s hilarious cause i saw a hot take from an xz anti before who said he is “afraid” of doing stuff alongside wyb. that is their perception. lol. but i think even if you don’t believe in the whole cp thing, maybe it’s professional courtesy? maybe these two are friends and have this unspoken rule? 🤷🏻‍♀️
tho i was very happy to see them both pop up on my weibo opening screen! and to experience them having these international campaigns, for wyb, lacoste recently— makes me proud. 😌
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a funny cpn from today is this parallel. in a segment at FPU, there was a moment where a fan said jiayou and wyb said cheering is not always necessary. It reminded us of that time xz was told to jiayou when he was about to go to the restroom and he’s like???? why do i have to jiayou???
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oh these two. 😂😂😂
yibo is the resident gremlin who always has a smart ass reply or some savage comeback for you but xz usually doesn’t. but we know what he has that in him too and i wish we could see more of that!
bonus cuteness before we proceed, this edit of them looking like they are doing the choreo for jisoo’s flower 🌸 and they are BP fanboys so it fits!
now some double standards. in the movie channel interview, they were asked where they first met, and wyb couldn’t remember. compare this to how he was with xz! he was always very proactive that they met in ttxs!!!!
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there was also a part where they were asked to give an example of what they wanna learn from each other. and if they communicated to learn. so HJY said street dance and WYB said jiu jitsu but they both weren’t able to learn from each other. in the meantime, wyb taught xz a dance routine 😂😂😂 among other things. i’m sure yibo will be more than happy to help someone out, but i think you have to be at a certain level of closeness to him. or he is really comfortable with you.
this last section is for the beaded bracelet. i think it’s time to discuss it again because this is the 3rd time he is seen with it. so this looks like something personal for him. tho i have to say, you have the coco crush which is both personal and part of him promoting chanel too. i’m invested in this cpn and at the same time frustrated because of the questions.
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( p1: him wearing it for the fpu bazaar magazine shoot // p2: worn during the movie channel interview // p3: what so/os are saying is the bracelet not that it matters cause i can clown this too )
1. i hate how no wardrobe accounts have confirmed what it is. and i kinda understand cause we never see it fully, plus there is cpn attached to it so they are extra careful. which is also another source of my frustration. why does he wear it when he has long sleeves on??? he was wearing a shirt earlier and his arms were bare! but wait.. he changed his clothes and as soon as he had something to sort of cover it, the bracelet was on. ����💀💀💀
it’s like he is purposely clowning us!
2. if this was a jewelry to show off and promote Chanel, why can’t we see it well? and i want to see the change in the beads’ color to confirm if it is what the solos say it is.
i’m also side eyeing international solos who are proudly commenting how wyb’s bracelet is luxury and not some cheap buddha beads like xz’s. what? it’s such an insult to a culture that is important to yibo. those bead bracelets made in specific temples for protection is part of his culture. he knows it’s importance and respects it. but what can i expect from solos really? lol. the bar is already very low when it comes to them but they still manage to disappoint me. 🪦
3. and if it is Chanel, i can still clown by thinking GG bought it for him so they can match. 😂😂😂 atleast with the aesthetic.
bonus: the bone necklace!!!!!
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another bonus, i saw this photo of like a celebration i guess for queen of tears. and the cake! the way the actors are cutting it! lol. reminds of xz and wyb! 😂
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banner edit source 圣衣雪琳
-END.
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