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misspoetree · 2 years
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writingsbychlo · 6 months
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HIDE AND SEEK | mattheo riddle
summary; you and mattheo play a little game on hallowe’en.
word count; 9058
notes; don’t forget to check out the sister fic to this one by @azrielscrown, we did a lil joint thing, and you can see me making some cameos if you wanna hang out 😉 we’ve been keeping this lil secret for WEEKS and I’m so happy we can finally share it with you all <3
“Sit still, will you?” Your giggle echoed off of the stone walls in Mattheo’s bathroom. He scoffed, shuffling between his feet once again. 
“S’not my fault it tickles! I don’t know how you girls do this every day, don’t the brushes make you want to sneeze?” His nose scrunched up as he spoke, but he let you continue to set the wet paint around his face with powder. His eyes focused on you, you could feel the stare as you observed the photograph he was holding up, a cut-out piece of a magazine. “You’re pretty when you’re focused.”
“And you’re distracting me,” You switched brushes, slapping at his hand as his fingers began to tease at your thigh. Returning it to its place on the counter beside your thigh, he shuffled between your legs impatiently once again, and pouted. “I can’t do your makeup like that. Smooth your face out.”
“Kiss.”
“Mattheo—”
“Kiss!” He repeated, and the smile you wore was against your control as you leaned in, pecking his lips softly, doing your best not to smudge the makeup you’d already applied around the centre of his face. It was too short and chaste for his liking, that much was clear when you pulled away as he licked at your lower lip, a whine coming from him as he chased you forward, only to be foiled by a chuckle, and a hand on his chest.
“I’m not redoing this for you if you make a mess of it! I don’t have time, I still have to get ready myself. Party starts in less than an hour, you know.”
“I know.” Mattheo grouched, smoothing his features out as you ran a thumb over his lips, refocusing on painting the skeletal features onto his face. “Y’know, you still haven’t told me what your costume is going to be.”
“You’d know if you’d gone for a couples costume with me. Stop moving your mouth.”
“That’s not fair!” He cringed and the brush slipped right into his mouth, leaving a streak of wet paint across his tongue, and you raised your brows. “I had to go with the boys, I couldn't be the only one who didn’t join in!”
“I’m messing with you, honey. Now, stop talking.” He merely grumbled behind closed lips, but his eyes were sparkling. He remained still and quiet, letting you paint the final pieces of his makeup around his mouth, stretching the creepy, toothy grin across his cheeks. Plucking the picture from his fingers and holding it up, you glanced a few times between it and your boyfriend, shrugging with a sigh. “That’s as good as it’s gonna’ get.”
Standing straight and moving to the mirror, his jaw dropped a little, hand rising but fingers never quite touching his face, tipping his head side to side to observe it. “Damn, baby, this is better than just ‘good’, it’s great!”
“Yeah? Good enough for your little boy’s night scare fest?”
“Don’t call it that, but yes.” Reaching for his hand, you tugged him back toward you, standing him before you and shaking the bottle in your hand. “What’s that?”
“Special setting spray. Close your eyes.” He did as told, eyes closing as you unpopped the lid. “I warn you, it may take some serious scrubbing after this to get the paint off, might leave some stains.”
“Wait, what—” You sprayed it across his face, and a choked sound between a gag and a cough left him as you covered his skin in a thick layer of the spray. Flapping your hand over his face to help his glistening skin dry, his frown deepened, hands reaching for you blindly, and gripping your hips. “I feel like my eyelids just got glued shut.”
“You’re so dramatic.” He cracked his eyes back open, several blinks and a few funny faces to adjust the stiffness, before he was tapping lightly at his skin, fingers pulling away clean. “You should still be careful with it, but it should hold. Just don’t… rub your face, or get any drinks thrown at it by scared party-goers.”
“Always ruining my fun.” Mattheo’s wistful sigh had you laughing once again, slipping down from the counter and slipping your hands under the edge of his baggy shirt. Lifting it up carefully and guarding his face, he raised his arms up, helping to slip off the shirt without disturbing the makeup on his face, leaving it heaped next to the paints and brushes on the counter. “Always helping me out.”
“Yes, well, someone’s got to keep your hopeless arse out of bother.” You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest. “What does the rest of this group costume consist of?”
“Suits. Not sure whose choice that was, probably Dray’s one condition on joining in.” Pretty brown eyes rolled at his friend, even if his lips were raised in a wide smile. “I’ll get ready, and then we can go to your dorm and get you all ready before meeting the rest?”
“I’ll go start getting ready now, while you do. Save some time.” He only hummed, your heart skipping a single beat as the first deception of the night passed seamlessly through your lips. 
“Alright, I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
You only nodded, pecking his lips delicately one more time, before slipping from his arms, out of his dorm and into the corridors. Your feet were moving fast, like a sprint through the halls towards your own dorm. Fifteen minutes was barely enough time to grab the things you need and escape from the Slytherin dorms without your boyfriend seeing you. You dragged out the bag you’d already packed from under your bed, and the pre-written note you’d hidden in your bedside drawer. 
His name was written neatly across the front, and you flipped it open, double-checking the message inside. In perfect, neat cursive;
‘Find me before midnight xo’
Folding it back up and propping it on the bed where you knew he’d see it, you eyed it for a second. Putting down your bag and rooting through, you gave your lips a half-hearted swipe of red lipstick, blotting them for a second before pressing a kiss to the note over his name, a single clue to start the game, before returning it to its spot. 
With that, you were off, leaving your dorm unlocked and enchanted, for his entry and his entry alone.
The common room was packed with groups gathered, ready to leave for the Weasley twins’ party, making it easy for you to blend in and disappear. The halls were just as busy, decorated and overflowing with chatter, the castle ghosts crowding and gathering happily to add to the atmosphere. 
Everyone else seemed to be heading down and out, leaving you as one of the few people heading up, to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. It was empty as you arrived, the sound of your bag hitting the floor creating an echo to bounce off of the walls. 
Tugging on your costume only took minutes, stashing your clothes back in the bag and leaving it open as you fished through for your makeup kit. It was as you were leaning across the sink, one eye closed as you swept eyeliner into a sharp point in one corner that the door crashed open once again. Jess stumbled through it, arms full of whatever costume the Weasley boys had forced upon her, and you stood straight up, trying not to blink and smear the wet liner before it dried. 
“Pushing it late, huh? Party starts in fifteen minutes!”
“Don't remind me…” Jess shucked off her robes, dumping the cloak on top of your empty bag, and beginning to undo the buttons of her shirt as you turned back to the mirror once again. 
When you were satisfied with your makeup, two sharp wings on either side and red lips to match your dress, you gave a happy nod to your reflection. With a few minutes to spare and a bottle of nail polish waiting to be used, you hopped up onto the sink. Costume now donned, Jess was lacing up heeled boots that reached all the way to her thighs. 
“Are you trying to scare the masses, or seduce them?” With only a sly smirk of her own in return, Jess made her way to the mirror beside yours, plucking the red lipstick from your makeup bag. 
“I’m supposed to be a bloodthirsty sorceress,” Popping the cap, she applied a coat. “Know any men who wouldn't mind having their hearts ripped out?”
“A few. The boys will be in skull makeup tonight, so aim for them first.” Your legs swung as you chuckled at her statement, focused on the brush moving across your nails. You wondered just how many of the boys were ready, and what Mattheo was doing right now. Surely, he’d already be on the hunt. “Save the curly one for me, though.”
Jess only beamed in response. “You’ve sent Riddle out on that wild goose chase yours, then?” 
You shrugged, ever the picture of easiness as you blew on your wet nails to dry them. “He’s got until midnight to find me.”
Excited knots twisted at your stomach with the mere thought, the thrill of the cat-and-mouse chase. It would likely drive Mattheo insane, knowing you were toying with him as he searched. “What happens when the clock strikes twelve?” 
“Let's just say, that I’m fully prepared to live up to my house name, and let him slither in.”
Zipping your makeup bag up with the nail polish inside, you packed all of the clothes into your bag, stashing it behind one of the sinks. “At least one of us is having fun tonight.”
Oh, that was no doubt. You weren’t sure ‘fun’ was even a fair word to use, knowing that the way you were riling your boyfriend up was more like a first-class ticket to seeing Heaven. “Who says you can’t? You may owe Fred a favour, but that doesn’t mean you can’t cause a little trouble.”
Jess shared a devious smile, sliding a gold mask into place as you slipped your own red one on to match, “I like the way you think.”
Placing the final part of your costume onto your head, the small horns on the headband complete your ‘devil’ look, and you hopped down to join her.
With your arm linked through your friend’s, the two of you set off. At the pathway marked as the beginning of the no-doubt terrifying journey ahead, Jess split off, a wink in your direction as you blew a kiss in hers, wishing her luck on the night of haunting ahead, mind set on your own task. 
Mattheo had told you where the boys all planned to meet, leaving you plenty of time to slip into the throng of people and disappear into the masses. Your plan: to remain hidden in plain sight.
Weaving through the crowds, eyes scanning over every person there, it wasn’t long until you spotted your boyfriend. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, flanked by only Enzo and Draco so far, he was already searching for you amongst the hordes. You followed closely behind a group, slipping into their ranks seamlessly, as Mattheo’s focus moved across you, flickering over the group and dismissing them quickly as strangers. A spark of excitement shot along your spine. 
Just like that, you were walking straight past him. Your cover merely being that of standing among people you didn’t even know meant letting him look right through you like fog in the early morning. 
Slipping inside one of the hidden walkways, darkness encased you, hiding you from view as all the horrors and thrills Fred and George had managed to create took place. 
Actors in costumes, enchantments to create realistic scenes, and laughter poured from your lips as much as screams did, your heart was pounding as you cleared the tunnel minutes later.
Surrounding the clearing on all sides were various attractions. How they’d managed to pull all this together, you had no idea, but the twins never failed to impress you. Several hexed bonfires filled the clearing, a hazy setting washing over your skin from that very first sniff of woody smoke pulled into your lungs. 
A haunted hayride, pulled along no doubt by the thestrals that Luna seemed so fond of took off on your right, a speakeasy-style building to the left, a haunted house with screams filling the chill night air right before you. Bobbing for apples, a spooky corn maze with moving scarecrows, everything that would send chills down your spine. 
Mattheo and the boys would likely catch up any moment, more visitors pouring in around where you’d paused at the end of the tunnel to admire, so you spurred yourself into action. The night couldn't end just yet, you still had hours of fun ahead of you. 
Angling yourself towards the speakeasy first, you stepped through the door, the subtle smell of gin and perfumed musk washing over your senses as you stepped up to the twisted staircase, flickering lights disappearing into darkness before your very eyes. 
Down, down, down, you moved. Swallowed whole by the shadows, your shaky laughter would doubtless have clouded your breath with the sudden chill that took you over, so dark for a moment you couldn't even see your hand before your face. Then, just as your hand skimmed towards your wand for a Lumos spell, a curtain swept aside, a couple stumbling out between fits of tipsy giggles, guiding you with flashes of coloured lights and the beat of unconfined music. 
The moment you were inside, all silencing spells wore off, blinding lights flashed across the dance floor, with the music that was pounding through the room so deep the base travelled up your legs. The floor was packed, everybody dancing to their heart’s content, and those who weren’t were gathered around small tables for card games, or crowding the bar. 
It wasn’t long until you located a group of your friends, some with their dates, some solo, and you were quickly immersed under the cover of the group. The beat had your eyes slipping closed, rhythm flowing through you as your body swayed. A drink was pressed into your hand by a friend, the fruity taste coating your tongue and leaving your body in a numb haze. 
You had to say, you were impressed by the effort the twins had gone to. Despite the student-body having only found out about this party a few weeks ago, you knew for them to have pulled this off, they’d have to have been planning since Valentine’s Day. Songs passed by in a blur of dancing and more drinks, a shot came soon, so spicy your eyes watered and throat stung, only soothed by the lime you were handed to follow. 
Wiping a stray droplet of juice from under your lip as you pulled the slice away, you almost missed the flash of skull makeup and blond hair in your peripheral. Draco was on the dance floor, making his way across, a smirk on his lips as a hand with manicured nails reached out to clasp his tie, trying to tug him into a dance. 
You didn’t have to search for long to find the face you knew so well, the one you’d painted yourself only a couple of hours prior, also on the dance floor. Hands reached for him too, trying to pull him this way and that, but he wasn’t stopped. No, he was searching. Looking at every face with your hair colour, checking under masks and turning dancers around despite their protests, just to rule them out from the game. 
And he was heading right for you. 
Spinning away from him, you ducked across towards a friend, her arms looping around your body as you neared, none the wiser to the game you were playing, and the distraction she provided. Swaying your body with her own, you pushed your lips close to her ear, watching Mattheo over her shoulder. “I need another drink, you want one?”
She only shook her head, released you near the back of the group and let herself get swept back up, as you were hidden away behind the crowd, sneaking towards the bar. 
Padma and her sister were serving quickly, wands in hand as they floated several cups through the air all at once. Slices of fruit and cubes of ice drop, tinkling into plastic cups ready for them to fill.
Flagging down one of the twins, a shaky breath of pure excitement leaves you, as you turn your focus back to your boyfriend. He looks like he’d been having fun. A little dishevelled, the top buttons of his shirt undone and his tie loosened, smudges of dirt and glitter on his clothes from wherever he and his boys had been playing, scaring unsuspecting patrons and gathering screams. 
His hair was no longer the neat style he’d doubtless have gelled it into, the stands messy from running his fingers through it, and curls beginning to form in the heat of the bar. A single curl fell across his forehead, brushing through the paint, and your fingers itched to brush it out of his eyes, like always. 
He’d reached the group now, searching idly in the area you’d been occupying, not finding you where you’d once been, chasing only steps behind and having no idea. 
The visible frustration he wore gave you a cocky smile, a rush of pride filing you up, watching as he made to move on, to more fruitless endeavours.
Then, a hand shot out. 
A hand in a black lace glove, attached to a girl in a full-body leather jumpsuit, hugging every inch of her body, the little cat ears you knew well. A member of your former dance group, poking up into the air. Pulling him to a stop, he bowed his head, lips moving and a conversation you couldn't hear taking place, and his head snapped up in your direction. 
For a second, your breath caught, swearing he almost looked right at you as he scanned his gaze over the bar. Someone had told him you’d been there, that you’d headed for the bar, and he filled with renewed vigour, eyes twinkling with mischief even from this distance. 
Motioning to Draco— who now had the rest of the owner of that manicured hand wrapped around him— to head to the bar, he moved like a man whom wild horses wouldn't be able to stop. The crowd parted around him as he moved, leaving nobody in his wake, not until he was right up to the bar at the other end. He motioned for one of the twins to take his order. 
Padma finally arrives to take your drink request, your order only adding to the floating display over their heads, and the display is utterly mesmerising. Much like the floating candles in the Grand Hall, light shimmers and reflects through every drink and piece of glass, light bursting out across the room. 
Following one trail of light, you spot Jess entering the bar, followed quickly in tow by someone in matching skull makeup, this one with shaggy blonde hair, his eyes locked on her like she’s the only girl in the room. You quirk a brow, sealing that little piece of information away for later.
You’re so caught up with your people-watching that you almost forget the game afoot, that Mattheo is so close, until the rough grate of his voice only a few seats down breaks you from your reverie. Snapping your eyes to him, he’s leaning on one arm, back to you as his focus scans out across the crowd. Somewhere on the dance floor is Enzo, you’re sure, and Draco has his lips on the neck of his mystery girl, completely ignoring Mattheo’s summons to the bar. You know where Theo’s interests lay, and you’re not sure where Pansy and Blaise will have snuck off too, likely some dark corner where they won’t be seen.
Your boyfriend was the only one in the group not dancing tonight, something that had you smirking. Swiping up your drink and bringing the straw to your lips, you admired his jawline as he stretched his head, once again searching. That was until a girl in a tight black dress and black feathered angel wings made her way over to him, clearing her throat lightly to bring back his attention as he continued the hunt. 
“Hi, Mattheo. Over here all alone, why aren’t you out there—”
“I have a girlfriend.” His curt response was flat and bored, and you almost snorted some of your drink trying not to laugh. Her expression wavered, a pout forming on her lips as she tried again, undeterred, reaching out to take the end of his tie between two fingers. 
“I don’t see her.”
Smoothing his hand down his front to remove his tie from her hold, he scoffed, shaking his head; “Neither do I, that’s the damn problem.”
This time, you were too slow in holding back your laughter, the sound bursting from you against your control. You hoped the music would cover it, but Mattheo heard it, whipping his head around in your direction, as he began to analyse every person at your end of the bar. 
Taking your drink and quickly ducking behind a man dressed as the Phantom at the Opera, you ducked and dove between people, daring a look back at the bar to see Mattheo stood where you had once been, looking amongst the people, but thankfully, not in your current direction. 
Glancing around for some quick cover, you spotted Jess, making your way over to her and watching as the boy she was with parted with a lingering kiss to her cheek. She clocked your approach, a wide smile bursting free on her lips, and her hands reached for you, tugging you into a dance with her as soon as you were near enough. 
“I take it Riddle hasn’t found you yet?”
“No, but he’s close.” You have to shout over the music, tipping your head in the direction you last saw him. She glances over your shoulder toward the bar, where her dance partner seems to have found himself too, along with the others.
“Gettin’ colder, he and Draco are heading toward the exit.” Spinning you around smoothly, a smirk pulled on your lips. A determined-looking Mattheo began to chase a cold lead, the unsuspecting girl who did look rather like you from behind leading him off-course. 
Twisting back to face her, your brow hitched up as the mystery man began to make his return, two new drinks in hand. “Is that Theodore Nott you’re flirting with?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” It was her turn to smirk, shrugging and brushing her hair from her shoulders. “He doesn't know it’s me, though, so if he asks you, you have no idea who I am tonight.”
“My lips are sealed.”
With a final wink, you slipped away, knowing she’d only be alone for a second before your boyfriend’s best friend was all over her once again. Following in the direction Mattheo had just left, you reentered the dark halls. The glow of his and Draco’s wands ahead, that and their murmured chatter bouncing from the walls, was your pin-point to follow through the new maze of tunnels. 
Too busy looking ahead, he had no idea you were right behind him. 
Hands reached out, faces flashing before your eyes as actors and other fear-mongers stalked the dark tunnels, and if it wasn’t for your boyfriend’s light ahead, you’d have screamed and given yourself away a long time ago. When you reached the central clearing once again, it was even busier than it had been before, you emerged not long after the boys, from a hidden alcove between the cornfield maze and a stand selling hot cider. 
Mattheo and Draco were gone, disappearing faster into the masses than you could comprehend, likely to find more of their little group, and you grabbed a cider, digging a galleon out of your pocket and tossing it into the collection jar, before taking a stroll around the maze. It was in there that you found Pansy and Blaise, hidden away in a darkened corner, just as you suspected. 
Both had swollen lips and glossy eyes when you cleared your throat at them, grinning at the blush spreading across your friend’s pale cheeks, as Blaise only smirked. 
“Ah, well, look who it is.” He mused, covering Pansy as she attempted to adjust her costume once again, and your laughter wasn’t lost on her, only getting flipped off as she tried to pull the corset top back up over her bra. “By your absence of lover boy, I take it Mattheo hasn’t found you yet?”
“So, he’s told you about the little game I’ve laid out, has he?”
“Oh, absolutely. We have a little bet going. By all means, keep this up, you have me winning. I bet he wouldn't find you at all.” Your head tipped to the side, a little sip of your hot cider as you considered his words, before Pansy was snatching it from your hand, sniffling it, and taking a gulp. 
“You bet against him?”
“Of course, look at you. Over halfway through the night and he still hasn’t found you. Pansy, on the other hand…” He teased, and she smacked at his arm. You gasped.
“Pans, you bet against me? And to think, I was sharing my drink with you.” Snatching it back, she pouted, but shrugged.
“Hey, nothing against you. He just had better odds, he’s recruited everyone to help him find you!”
“And a marvellous job you’re all doing of that. Tell me, did you find me hiding behind Blaise’s tonsils?” Her cheeks went red again, along with a burst of deep laughter from the other culprit that had him clutching his stomach. She shushed him quickly, despite the silencing spells cast over the maze for an added air of creepiness. 
“Well, here you are, are you not?”
“Sure.” You rolled your eyes fondly, stepping away from the pair. “I’ll let you get back to your intense searching. Don’t tell Matty you saw me!”
And with that, you slipped back into the darkness, the bushes around you rustling and creaking as they changed with every step you took. It wasn’t until you’d successfully given up, growing bored as the chill of mist rose goosebumps on your skin that the hexed forestry finally freed you, a pathway clearing and opening up ahead of you to release you back to the party. 
Seeking the moon in the sky, you found it not long until midnight, Blaise had told no lie, your game coming closer and closer to the end, where you would be crowned the winner. Taking a seat before the fireplace, you settle in to watch the flames, and peer around to spot your hunter. 
There. It only took a second to find him but there he was, a little clearing across the way, leaning against some haybales with a blunt balanced between two fingers. Bringing it back to his lips, he took a drag, smoke filtering out into the cold air and obscuring his face, before passing the roll to Draco. 
When the smoke cleared, his eyes locked on your own. 
Just a second. A moment across the field, so far away, but he knew. Your breath hitched, his back straightened. Then he was moving, without even warning the rest of the group, he was taking long strides across the field, closing the distance between you both, and adrenaline surged through your system as you shot to your feet. 
Your closest building was the haunted house, his eyes narrowing, a silent warning when a smile curved on your lips, already knowing your next move. 
You bolted, a giggle breaking free as the true chase began, and he called your name, the sound lost amongst the chatter and amusement of everyone else gathered around. Slipping through the hoards of people, you stumbled through the front door, watching as Mattheo rounded the porch, trying to snake his way through to catch up. 
A kaleidoscope of colours, screams and shouts and music, different rooms with every theme as you were ushered through in a rush, the whole attraction feeling like a fever dream as you searched for the exit. The game was reaching its peak, midnight neared, the moon called it into the sky, and being so close to the last moments, you were determined to win. 
Stumbling out into the cold night air once again, you headed for the tree-line, secluded enough that you could lean on the thick trunk of an old oak. You watched the entrance to the haunted house, a red-painted lip caught between your teeth, eager for him to emerge in your wake.
You waited. 
Waited.
Seconds ticking by, and the thunderous race of your heart in the moment finally began to slow. Gasping breaths became softer pants, calling to you the silence of the world around you when blood was no longer pumping in your ears. 
A twig snapped behind you, and before you could turn to acknowledge the sound, a hand was sealing over your mouth, an arm banded around your waist, dragging you back into the darkness. 
Spun around in their arms, your panic lasted barely a second, before soft lips were pressing firmly to your own, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke and woodsy cologne filling your senses. Your arms came up, gripping him just as tightly as he walked you backwards, pressing you to a tree as he left a dozen kisses on your lips, longing and loving after hours apart.
“You’re a little minx, do you know that?”
“Actually, I’m a little devil.” You snickered, hands on his chest to push him back enough to look down at your outfit, motioning to the horns still on your head. “See?”
“I see it, baby. I have to say, I love this costume.” His hand fell to your thigh, callouses scraping across soft skin until he found the short hem, tugging and twisting the flowing skirt around his fingers. “I’ve been searching every girl for red lipstick all night, thanks to your little clue. Should have known you’d be decked out in all red, too. Standing out, right there, the whole time.”
His mouth descended upon your own once again, a happy sound rumbling in the back of his throat as you kissed back just as eagerly, one hand sliding up into his hair. His hand squeezed at your thigh, slipping back down as far as your knee, only to hike your leg up around his hip, shocking you into a gasp.
“I’ve been running around all night trying to find you, and you were right under my nose the whole time, weren’t you?”
His kisses descended to your neck, a shaky sound slipping free as his teeth teased a spot on your jaw that made you tremble, gripping tighter to his suit for stability. Your breath was shaky as you spoke, desperate to reclaim some power, despite the way he was undoing you already, “What, you didn’t like my little game?”
“Oh, I loved your little game, baby. But, I think I just won. It’s a few minutes to midnight.” Licking a stripe across the underside of your jaw, you mewled, head tipping back against the tree, hips bucking up to meet his own, and he grunted. “What’s my prize?”
His gaze came back up, dark and challenging and sultry as he stared down at you, smirking. Licking across one red lip, his attention focused there, his own lips parting, getting closer, needy for another taste. “The second part of the costume, of course.”
Gripping his wrist and sliding it up and under your skirt, his fingertips smoothed over the lace of your panties. He didn’t hold back his groan, gripping your ass tightly in his hand and tugging you forward to rub against him once again. “Red, I assume?”
“Smart boy.”
“My dorm?” He whispered, forehead falling to your own, a needy sound your only form of reply as your hips rolled together, friction dragging and sparking heat across your body. 
“What, you want to leave the party already?”
Your teasing words weren’t appreciated if the squeeze to your rear was any indication. “Game is over, don’t play with me anymore, my love. I need you, now.”
“Then let's go.”
The two of you stumbled along, barely keeping your hand to yourself as you hurried back through the woods, avoiding the crowds and teasing whistles of your friends by taking a more covert route instead. You certainly weren’t the only ones with the same thoughts, various couples were dotted through the woods, wandering hands and desperate kisses exchanged behind the trees and throughout the branches. 
His hand was tight around yours, tugging you along with his pace, but when he stopped short, you almost crashed straight into his back. Following his line of sight, you huffed, pushing him with a hand on his back to get his feet moving again. 
“Is that Theo over there, zipping his pants back up? Who’s he out here with?”
“You want gossip, or you want sex, Matt?” His body jolted at the insinuation, feet stumbling over one another as he picked the pace again. Guiding the two of you through one of the tunnels he had likely discovered during his night of scaring, the two of you paced back through the speakeasy. 
Up the haunted stairs. 
Through the woods. 
Along the halls.
Past the common room.
And then, he was backing you up against his dorm door, fingers fumbling with the lock, pressing frenzied kisses to your lips as he slid the mask off of your face and threw it to the floor. 
"You taste like cinnamon and wine." Mattheo moaned, practically sucking the taste of mulled cider from your tongue as you ground against his clothes cock. 
"You taste like cigarettes and whiskey." Your words are bitten off as he nips on your lower lip, a whine spilling from you as his hand snakes back up your skirt, toying with the lace of your panties again. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he snapped them against your hip. The sting of the elastic on your flesh made you gasp, and he only chuckled into your mouth in response. 
“Godric knows, you’ve been driving me crazy tonight, baby, thinking about these red lips, lookin’ for them everywhere. Now I want to see what that red looks like around the base of my cock.”
Your fingers trailed across the front of his body, shaky fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it more and more until it hung open, only his tie in the way as you peppered his chest with open-mouthed kisses. A moan spilled from his throat, his head tipping back, and he yanked at the tie, throwing it to the floor, quickly joined by his shirt and blazer until his torso was bare and exposed to your ministrations. 
Your hands gripped his hips, spinning his body with your own until his back was to the wood instead. Mattheo only smirked, eyes half-lidded as he watched you, your red lipstick already smeared across his mouth, printed on his chest, his own makeup smudged to match. 
One heavy hand found your shoulder, pressing you down, until you were on your knees before him, tugging at his belt as he lifted his hips from the door. His arrogance only grew, lifting one hand to comb through your tangled hair as you struggled with his trousers, pulling at them until they were halfway down his thighs. His cock sprung free, a hiss on his lips as the cold air of the dorm met his flushed skin. 
Gathering your hair up and out of your face, he gripped it in a bunch behind your head, not pushing or pulling, just waiting as you peered up at him, licking over one kiss-bitten lip. His other hand fell to your cheek, smudging streaks of black and white facepaint as he went, tracing his thumb across your lower lip. 
“You’re so beautiful, my love,”
Your smile made his thumb fall to your chin, a single squeeze, before he was retracting his hand, and manoeuvring your head towards his cock. Slipping the tip past your lips, a shudder passed over his body, his thighs clenching under your hands as your nails dug into his flesh, and his head ‘thumped’ on the wood of the door as it fell back. 
“Salazar fuckin’ save me,” He panted, slipping further and further, his grip in your hair tightening with every inch, until he was tapping the back of your throat, your gag buzzing along his flesh in a way that made his hips buck. “Love your pretty little mouth. Make it so good for me, baby.”
Smiling as best you could with every inch of his cock slipping into your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair, pulling back just enough to let you take a breath before his hips were bucking again. This time, as he sank back into your mouth, your lips tightened around him, sucking suddenly, and his broken moan bounced off the walls of his dorm. 
Again, and again, he was pushing you further, until you were comfortably taking him deep into your throat, tears lining your eyes, threatening to spill over your cheeks in a way you knew he loved to see. “Fuck, you’re so good down for me,”
Tracing your tongue around the head of his cock, you took control, sinking down against him and dragging your tongue along his cock, feeling the throb of that prominent vein. You moaned against him, and his body tensed at the feeling, making you pull back, just enough to have him gasping as the pleasure was ripped away. 
You kissed at his hip, nipping his hip bones where they pressed to his skin, and a babbling mess of your name was all you got as he panted, flushed skin rising and falling. 
Your hand took over, pumping his spit-slick shaft slowly, dragging up until his hips were following your hand with a pathetic groan. He finally had enough, enough of your teasing as you caught your breath, his head tipping back forward against his shoulders and blissed-out eyes narrowing on you. 
“Tongue out for me, pretty girl.”
Your stomach flipped at his words, at the gravel in his tone, the way he yanked your hair back to control you as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out as he’d asked. 
His cocky smile grew as you grinned back at him. Guiding his cock back to your mouth, he let the weight of it sit on your tongue, rubbing softly, pre-cum leaking and the taste of him made your thighs clench together. 
He didn’t miss the action, not at all, his hips thrusting lazily in and out of your mouth as he gave you a nod. Sealing your lips back around him, you moved enthusiastically once again, bobbing up and down along his cock, wringing every bit of pleasure from him that you possibly could. 
“So fucking good, baby, just like that. You like sucking my cock, huh? Always so eager for my cum in your mouth.” Pulling back, his cock fell free of your lips, spit tainted with red lipstick and pre-cum connected his tip to your lips, and he gathered it on his fingers. That same hand cupped your cheek, smearing it across your skin, “Not today though. Today, all my cum is going in that pretty pussy of yours.”
Kissing across his abs as you rose to your feet, his mouth was slamming onto your own. Tongue plunging in, your moan was lost to his lips as he worked at your clothes too, tugging at your dress, horned headband falling to the floor as he yanked the garment over your head. 
Kicking off his trousers and stripping himself the rest of the way, he panted, eyes wide, admiring the lace set you’d donned for his eyes only tonight. “You’ve been wearing this all night, and you let me chase you ‘round for hours?”
His hands skimmed over your body, almost reverent with the lightness of his touch, tracing the corset top that hugged your chest, pushing your tits up to the perfect fullness. The panties with their tiny straps, sitting perfectly on your hips, across your cheeks to make your arse look round and shapely, the strings and ribbons that had his mouth watering as he stared in awe. “You like it?”
He only growled, a flash of cold travelling across his eyes as you fuelled the carnal desire boiling within him. He was moving in a flash, sitting on the edge of the bed and bending you sideways across his lap, his wet cock prodding your stomach as you gasped at his manhandling. His hand smoothed over your flesh, across the seam of your panties, chuckling at the wetness he found on the material, and swirling at your clit. “How many times, huh? How many times did I almost get to you, but you escaped me?”
“Th-Three.” Your mind was foggy, hazy as pleasure began to take over. Your eyes fluttered shut as you hung limply across his thighs, core clenching around nothing. He hadn't even touched you properly yet, and you were already falling apart for him. Your gut was tightening, hips rocking and pressing back onto his fingers as you neared that peak, the excitement and electricity of the night had had you worked up for hours now, all moving toward this. 
“Three times. Three times you ruined my victory, so I think three times, I’ll ruin yours.”
His words had barely even registered in your mind when his touch left you, a cry of protest being cut shut by a sharp slap across your ass, your body jerking forward at the force, and pleasure zipped through you, despite your denied orgasm. “Damn it, Matty…”
“That’s what you get, baby.”
You pushed yourself up, shaky hands, putting on your best pout as you turned to face him. He only mimicked the expression, mocking you. Tugging you in instead, he licked his way into your mouth, filthy, panting kisses taking over as he made sure to ruin whatever was left of your makeup. You adjusted yourself across his body, settling down to sit against one thigh, nipping on his bottom lip and rocking your hips. 
Slow, so slow, you moved over him, feeling the muscle of his thigh tense up underneath you, his hands roaming your body, distracted and oblivious of the pleasure you were taking for yourself as that fiery pleasure rekindled once again. He reached for the back of the corset, tugging at the hoops, undoing them roughly until it was falling to the floor and he was catching one nipple between his lips. 
“Oh, fuck, Mattheo…” You whispered, arching closer to him, pushing your chest further into his face as he teased his teeth across the taut bud. A sob left your lips, fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the roots to convey words that were melting to nothing on the top of your tongue.
His arm caught around your waist, tugging you closer into his body, making it harder for you to move as you tried to squirm in his lap. His breathy laugh spread over the skin of your chest as he littered it with hickies, switching to the other side and leaving one wet, perky nipple cool in the air of the room.
“Matt, please!”
“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” When he was satisfied with the havoc he was wreaking on your body, his attention moved to your neck. Your arms around his shoulders, head tossed back, panting and whining as you ground against his thigh. “You wanna’ come, baby?”
“Y-Yeah.” The feeling was burning through your veins, taking you over, your eyes rolling back as your pussy throbbed. 
He pulled you in, a finger and thumb on your chin to guide your face back to his own, lips brushing. “Too bad.”
He gripped you once again, both arms holding you steady, unable to chase any kind of pleasure, as he kissed your neck, his smirk on your skin showing he knew just what he was doing. 
“Thought you’d get away with that, didn’t you? I’m not even going to count that one.” Tugging your panties to the side, two fingers sank into you, and your back arched into his body as he touched you at last. “You can’t win at my game. My little loser, huh? What a shame.”
You were shaking atop him, the feeling of his fingers, the curl and the pump he knew so well. Mattheo could read your body like a map, he knew just what you needed, just how to touch you, and he was using that to his advantage. Two fingers became three, stretching you out deliciously and yet it still wasn’t enough. You collapsed against his body, desperate to come, moaning like a whore and forever on the edge as he toyed with you. 
Your forehead was pressed to his, crying his name, begging against his mouth as he licked at your lip, tipping his head up to catch you for a kiss. When he pulled away this time, you could feel the tears in your eyes, nails digging into his skin, pleading with sounds that no longer resembled words. 
You could feel his frustration; every time he’d almost found you, every dead-end, every narrow escape.
A sick, twisted part of you was loving every second of this delicious torture, and you found yourself face down in the sheets, panties around your thighs and his cock slamming into you, so hard that a scream ripped through you. 
“Shh, you can take it, my little demon. I know you can.”
“I can, Matty. I can take it. I can take more.” You wanted it, you wanted it bad, spurring him on. Your hands scratched in the covers, legs spreading even further, body rocking with every deep thrust he gave you. His kisses travelled over your spine as your tears smeared mascara and eyeliner into the sheets. His body smothered you, one hand coming around to clasp your own, love shining through in his actions even as he ruined you, took you apart until your mind was shattered. 
You’d be wrecked in the morning, you’d surely be unable to walk, sore legs and trembling limbs, you’d have to spend half the morning just recovering from the way he was fucking you now. Brutal, fast, slamming in and out and making you sure your eyes would never come back from how far they were rolled into your head. 
Nerves were lighting up, electricity shooting along every cell of your body as his slick skin slid against yours, one hand in your hair, tugging your head back as his lips brushed your ears. 
“Wish you could see yourself, pretty girl. Wish you could see what I see. Shaking, dripping, my cock sliding in and out of this pussy like you were made for me.” He slowed his pace, for just a second, and you keened back into him, chasing the pleasure that was already building once again, even if you knew it would be fruitless. 
You may have lost the ability for sentient thought, but his count was ringing in your head, only two of three failed orgasms served. Your body tensed with a shudder, the anticipation lingering in the air like a sword over your head.
“You really do belong in the pits of hell, don’t you? Look what you do to me.” His teeth grazed over your shoulder, biting down on your skin enough to make you cry out his name, bucking against his touch as he soothed the bite with gentle licks. “There’s nothin’ angelic about you, you’re nothin’ but a sinner.”
His name spilled from your lips, again and again, like you were begging for redemption. 
“You’re on your knees, but you’re praying to me.”
His hand snaked around your body, finding your swollen clit and brushing his fingertips across it, pitching the bud harshly between his fingers. “Matt—”
“You want to come?”
“Yes!” 
“What a shame.” He slipped himself out of your cunt, spewed curses in anger leaving your wobbling lips, more tears spilling over as he took away the last part of your dignity. 
Twisting your entangled bodies, he guided you until your back met the bed sheets, pushing you up as he crawled over you. Hooking his fingers into the edges of those panties and pulling them away, he spread himself over you. 
He barely gave you time to recover, the stimulation all too much, as he lifted your legs to hook them over his shoulders plunge his cock back into the sopping heat of your cunt. 
This may have been his game, but when his forehead came to rest on your own, hands frantically bunching in the sheets beside your body, you knew the last round had begun. The ball was in your court, his own need displayed clearly on his face as he rutted into you desperately. His rhythm was lost, sloppy and out of control, and you squeezed yourself around his cock. 
You pressed sweet kisses to his lips, tempting him over the edge with a drag of your teeth across his lip, a lap of your tongue, and he was done for.
Finally, your peak crashed over you. Waves and waves, blinding pleasure that left you with silent, open-mouthed screams. Twitching underneath him, your fingers tore down his back, your legs snapped against his hips, holding him to your body as white-hot bliss drowned you. 
He only needed a few more thrusts, your back arching and his name a chant, enough profanities to scar anybody passing by as the lewd sounds of your movements covered your moans. He came with a groan, thrusting through until the sound tapered off into a whimper, his own unsteady body collapsed down on top of you. Dragging breaths into his lungs to recover as his sweaty body covered you, you hooked your arms around him, hugging him close, unwilling for him to move even a fraction.
You felt numb, the aftershocks of pleasure racing through your body, still twitching and shaking despite his weight on top of you. Freeing one hand, he smoothed it up your body, dragging from your thigh to your ribs, stroking softly in soothing motions, as his lips gave delicate pecks, shushing every lingering whimper that escaped. 
You reciprocated the action, raising one hand to land in his hair, fingers brushing through sweaty curls, as his cheek found your shoulder. 
“That… was some of the best sex we’ve ever had.” Your words were still breathless, and he laughed lightly, nodding against you where he lay. 
His skin was littered with lipstick, smudges of his facepaint on every part of your body, painted with love and lust everywhere you’d touched one another. The night was still heavy on your skin, the festivities outside still raging even if your night had come to an end. 
Maybe minutes had passed, maybe hours, but eventually, Mattheo dragged himself up, pulling himself free from your body, and smirking down at every mark he’d left on your skin. With unbalanced steps, he wandered away to the bathroom of his dorm, the squeak of the taps and the splash of water in the basin signalling the running of a bath. 
He offered you a hand as he returned, pulling you to your feet, the two of you wobbling your way through to the bathroom and taking stock of your mess as the water ran. Elixirs and salts, the fresh smell of jasmine and honey filled the air, and then you were sinking in, leaning back against Mattheo’s body as the two of you revelled in the hot water. 
His hand looped around your body, fingers lacing with yours and resting on your stomach, as his chin hooked over your shoulder. For a while, the two of you remained just like that, chasing the cold of the night from your bones and merely enjoying one another’s company.
“Tell me, was that your little friend— the one who was ripping out hearts for the Weasel-twins— that I saw running from Nott in the woods, this evening?”
“Oh, Matty,” You chuckled, turning to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You have no idea the games she’s been playing tonight.”
He only grinned, head resting on the edge of the tub. “I fear those two together, they’ll rip each other’s hearts out.”
“Maybe so,” You mused, his fingers dragging along your ribs, and you shuddered happily. “Or maybe, they just found their perfect match together.”
“Just like I found you.” He whispered, lips brushing along your cheekbone, and you scoffed. 
“You’re so cheesy.”
“It was your game!”
Your hum echoed off of the walls. “Don’t tell Theo. I want to see how it plays out.”
“What, and ruin the surprise? I would never.” He smirked, “Besides, Theo didn’t help me find you, let him search for a while.”
Holding onto his forearm banded around your waist, your fingers traced up and down, before his hand caught yours, holding tight and weaving fingers your together. 
“I love you, but don’t you ever run from me again. There is not a place on this earth you could hide that I wouldn't find you. I’d search forever.”
“You know,” You whispered, turning in his arms to sit across his lap, and he made a happy sound, face tipping up to brush his lips on your own. “That sounds vaguely threatening. You’re a little bit fucked up.”
“That’s because it is a threat, and a promise. Besides, you’re a little bit fucked up too, because I know you love it.”
You couldn't deny it, only able to snicker in response instead, and press a firm kiss to his lips, which he was happy to return. “I love you too, Matty. Now, let’s try and scrub off all this makeup, hm?”
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daddyfordaeddy · 1 month
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Pairing: king! Seonghwa x queen! f! yn
Word Count: 2804
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Fluff, smut, royal au, M for mature audiences
Summary: Your marriage to Seonghwa has been nothing exciting. But things change during his coronation ball.
Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, slight begging, pretty vanilla if i do say so myself lol
Written for @cultofdionysusnet's permanent event <3 took me a bit to get it down lol, and a big thank you to @arafilez and @sanjoongie for helping me out <3 i really wrote 1.5k prologue before getting to the smut and u can tell it got to me since the smut is very storybook like and not just filth lol
AND yes i know the irony of having a red themed banner when the title is blue blood but hey man i...have no excuse
-
Your palms are sweaty. It’s the first ball the royal family has hosted since your marriage to the then-Crown Prince, Park Seonghwa. And it’s the first social gathering you’ve attended since. You’re pretty sure the maids can see how nervous you are and you’re grateful the wine-red gown you’ve adorned for the occasion will cover any sweat marks or wrinkles you’re sure you will make.
You cannot even politely decline this event—not when it’s marking the start of your husband’s reign as king.
As the maids layer one last necklace, you shiver at the feeling of the cool metal touching your skin. The sparks flickering inside the red jewel catch your eye and you brush your fingers against it with a bittersweet smile. It was a wedding gift from your husband, the Park family blessed with fire magic. You find it ironic that such a cold-faced family can have control over such warm and bright magic, as well as red being their crest colour.
You don’t hate Seonghwa, of course. He’s been respectful to you, only speaking to you when necessary and otherwise leaving you be. The two of you share different, albeit connected, chambers, and he never enters your room without permission on the rare occasion he needs to.
But God, you wish he would at least smile at you so you don’t feel like a piece of furniture in your new home. While high up in nobility as the daughter of an Earl, you were no duchess and you were sure if you attended social teas you would be scrutinised. So you stick with counselling the civilians who cannot win an audience with Seonghwa and managing the household.
With another sigh, you send the servants away to gather your wits before meeting your husband in the foyer. You squeeze your eyes shut, breathing deep, before moving to pour yourself a small glass of wine.
As you down the bitter liquid, a knock sounds at the door. “YN, are you in there?” The honey-deep voice of your husband makes you jump a little.
“Ah, yes, I’m coming,” you call out, setting down the crystal glass and opening the door to see your husband standing just a bit too close to the door. You’re met with a faceful of his chest and you stumble back. “Ah–”
A firm hand wraps around your waist to keep you from tripping on your skirt and you can see the faint amusement on Seonghwa’s face. “Now, now, we can’t have you falling even before the dancing starts,” he chuckles, and you stare at him, unused to such a cheerful demeanour from him. His lips twitch as he holds back his smile. “Are you all right, my wife? You look a little befuddled.”
You blink up at him owlishly before realising how you must look and quickly turning your face away. “I’m all right. Shall we go down, then?”
Seonghwa chuckles low in his throat. His hand reaches up and brushes a few strands of your hair out of your eyes. His touch is soft and you involuntarily find yourself melting just a little. “Yes, let’s go and show off my beautiful wife.”
You laugh at that, pushing him away playfully. “This night isn’t about me, it’s about you…my king.”
Seonghwa coughs when you use his new title and it’s his turn to face away from you, although you can see his ears are red. “Yes, well. Let’s get going then. We can’t keep our guests waiting.” He offers up his arm for you to take, and you gingerly rest your hands on him with a small smile, keeping your eyes lowered.
Thankfully the distance from your rooms to the foyer isn’t far as the walk there is awkwardly silent. But as soon as you enter and all eyes are on you two, it’s like a button is pressed that makes you immediately at ease and you intermingle easily with your guests. Waiters are milling about serving a selection of wines, and you drink just a tad more than you ought.
It’s nice to mingle with the courtesans and landowners like you used to, and you make a mental note to start attending tea again. You were anxious about them for nothing—they’ve known you since before you were the queen so they aren’t forming any new opinions of you.
Giggling, you weave your way around the crowd until you bump into a firm back. “Hello, my wife,” Seonghwa hums, holding you steady with amusement dancing behind his dark eyes. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”
You blame the lingering burn of alcohol in your veins for the following actions. You lean onto his shoulder, a dazed smile pulling at your lips as you look up at your husband. “I am, Hwa.” The nickname tumbles naturally from your lips without a second thought although Seonghwa’s eyes widen for a split second. “Are you enjoying yourself too?”
“I’ll excuse myself, you spend time with your wife.” You hardly even register the minister of defence’s words as you wrap an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and press a kiss to the shoulder of his uniform. “Congratulations on your ascent to the throne, your majesty.”
Seonghwa bows as best he can with you attached to him before turning to you to place both his hands on your shoulders. “Do you need to go to bed? The party is slowing down a bit so you can if you’d like.”
You shake your head, subconsciously pouting. “No, I wanna wait for you first.” Your head leans against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat pick up slightly.
“...Alright. Let’s close this up nicely, YN.”
You don’t really know what’s happening, but you smile and farewell the last stragglers as the time passes. The alcohol is almost out of your system, but you stay close to Seonghwa, not ready to let him go quite yet. His arm around your waist makes your heart flutter and you look up at him as he waves away the last guest.
“Why are you staring at me?” he murmurs without even looking down and you chuckle to yourself, gaze unwavering.
“I like you, Hwa.”
It feels like time stands still as soon as the words fall from your mouth. Seonghwa’s eyes find your own and neither of you move for a long second. “...Are you still drunk?” You would find his question offensive, but his tone is hopeful so you can’t find it in your heart to.
“No, not for this,” you shake your hair and before he can stop himself, Seonghwa brushes your hair out of your face again. “I’m not in love, not yet. But I can safely say I like you. Especially if you keep touching me like this.”
Something must have overcome Seonghwa in that moment because he leans in and his grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. “Well, in that case. I like you too. And I could touch you a lot more if you’d let me.” He practically whispers the last sentence, his lips almost ghosting over yours.
You blink at him, a mirror to just before the party, and a smile grows on your face. “I’d let you.”
Seonghwa straightens up immediately, a light blush dusting his cheeks and he calls over one of the servants and whispers something to them. When the servant nods and hurries off, Seonghwa turns back to you, a wolfish grin growing on his face. “Shall we head back to our chambers, my wife?”
Heat slowly crawls over your face as you nod eagerly and Seonghwa chuckles and cups your face tenderly, placing a kiss on your forehead before taking your wrist and leading you up the flights of stairs in the next breath.
The two of you burst into his room giggling and hands clasped. Seonghwa kicks the door closed and pulls you into his arms, his face buried in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “...You’re sure you’re not drunk?”
His voice is small, and you smile to yourself at the sound of it. Wriggling your way out of his grasp, you bring his slender hands to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of his fingers. “I’m absolutely sure, my king.”
Seonghwa lets out another deep breath, stepping closer and leaning down to gently press his lips against yours. You taste of bitter wine, but he seems to enjoy it, brushing his tongue over the seam of your lips and you eagerly grant access. The two of you deepen the kiss as he slowly backs you to his bed. When your knees touch the mattress Seonghwa breaks away, his lips swollen and spit slicked.
“Strip?” he asks, his voice gravelly and your thighs clench at the sound of it. You reach behind you, attempting to reach the fasteners but failing. Seonghwa chuckles, spinning you around. “You’re so pretty, YN. I’m glad I get to share my life with you.” His hand rests on your shoulder blade as he undoes each clasp with his other hand.
Suddenly, his lips touch your shoulder bone and you gasp at the soft feeling. “Hwa–”
“I’d like to bend you over right now, but you’re too precious to be taken so roughly on our first time. I want to cherish you like the queen you are.” Seonghwa mouths at your hot skin, his hands moving up and down your sides as your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in your undergarments.
Your hands instinctively come up to cover yourself but Seonghwa’s reflexes are faster than yours and he grabs your wrists, holding you in place. “Don’t cover up, my wife,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “Let me love you like you deserve.”
You look at him with wide eyes, before nodding the tiniest bit. Seonghwa isn’t satisfied, an eyebrow raising, and you squeak out a quiet “yes”. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, his mouth is reattached to your neck and his hips grind down onto your hip and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh.
“Hwa, please,” you whine, feeling a burning in your core.
“Mmh, love it when you call me that,” Seonghwa murmurs, his hand coming down to unfasten his pants and shoving them down enough to free his cock. “There’s something about you that’s so fucking alluring. All I can think about is fucking you so well all you can do is think about me just as much as I do with you.”
He shifts, adjusting himself so he can grind his cock against your dripping folds and kiss you at the same time. The softness of his lips makes you smile and you throw your arms around him to bring him closer to you. For a moment, both of you are too caught up in your kiss, but then the tip of his dick gets caught in your fluttering hole and you moan into his mouth.
“Gods–” Seonghwa groans, hips stilling. You can feel every time his dick twitches inside of you. “Are you ready? Please–” The last word falls from his lips in a whisper, as if he’s almost embarrassed to beg.
Instead of a response, you hook your legs around his waist and pull his hips flush against you, immediately driving his cock deep inside you. You throw your head back at the feeling of it spearing into you, Seonghwa dropping his head to rest against your chest. “Fuck, you’re so– so perfect for me,” he stutters out, his voice low and heavy with lust. “Want to stay like this forever.”
“Less talking,” you order, twisting your hips to try and get him impossibly deeper inside of you. A crooked smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips, and before you can say anything else, he pulls back and starts hammering into you like it’s his last day in the kingdom.
You can hardly get words out, only whines and mumbles, his cock reaching so deep inside of you. With every thrust, he hits that perfect spot inside of you and your hands dig into the thick fabric of his uniform top. “Ah– Seonghwa, you’re splitting me apart so good,” you moan, breath hot on his neck.
You swear your guts will be rearranged after this, his thick cock stretching you so perfectly. With every thrust, you can feel your walls squeezing so tightly around him and your hips are shaking with pleasure. Seonghwa’s eyes are trained on the junction where his cock is driving deep into you, mesmerised by the glistening slick covering both of your thighs.
Without warning, his slender fingers travel down your body to press at your clit. A gasp rips its way out of your throat and you moan embarrassingly loud, your hips kicking up. “Seonghwa–”
He leans in, his hand still rubbing small circles on your clit, pressing his lips sweetly to yours once again. “Shit, Hwa, you’re too perfect for me. Treating me so well.”
Seonghwa groans and bites your shoulder. “You look so pretty on my cock, my wife. You’d look so pretty full with me dripping out of you. I should show you every day how much I love you, hmm? It’s what you deserve. A pampered life as my wife, the queen by my side.” His teeth sink into your lower lip and his fingers speed up their ministrations.
“Ah– I’m close Seonghwa,” you moan into his mouth, and you can practically feel him smile against your lips.
With one particularly well-delivered thrust, Seonghwa growls, “Come for me, YN.”
Without much further prompting, just a twist of his fingers on your clit, you groan, back arching and your cunt clenching around Seonghwa as you fall over the edge of your orgasm, your husband following soon after. Ropes of searing hot come shoot deep inside of you and you let out a long sigh at the feeling. Seonghwa rests his forehead on yours as his hips slow to a stop, letting your orgasms wash over both of you completely.
You let your body completely relax on the mattress, staring up at the canopy of the bed. When you were preparing for the party, the last thing you expected was to get your brains fucked out by Seonghwa, but you won’t complain. You breathe out and relax, bringing your hand up to brush your fingers through his dark hair.
“Feeling good?” you ask your husband, and Seonghwa laughs, tilting his head up.
“Yeah. Come on, let’s get my lovely wife cleaned up. I have to change the sheets in the meantime.” Seonghwa gets up, stretching a little, and you can’t help but stare at the sliver of waist you see. You can feel his come dribbling out of you and instinctively you clench your thighs although you know you must get up soon enough.
But before you can even make any move to, Seonghwa leans down and scoops you up, carrying you over to your shared bathroom. “Ah– Hwa–” you scold, gripping onto his shoulders. “My legs work!”
Seonghwa laughs, nuzzling into your hair. “Then I should fix that next time.”
You laugh and smack at his shoulder. “Hwa, no, I like being able to move.”
Seonghwa shakes his head but doesn’t respond, just turning on the faucet and sitting you down in the water. “Is this all right for you?” he asks, and you raise an eyebrow.
“Come sit with me too, Hwa. You should get to relax too.”
“Ah, but the sheets,” Seonghwa tries, but you grab the hem of his shirt.
“We can use my quarters, Seonghwa.” You stare up at him with pleading eyes, and you can see him hesitate. “Please, Hwa?”
And just like magic, your words break down Seonghwa’s hesitation and he sighs, unfastening his shirt and throwing off his pants. As he lowers himself behind you, your hand reaches back to steady him.
As the two of you sit in the warm water, you take a chance and lean back against his firm chest. You can feel him stiffen and your breath catches in your throat, but in the end, he just relaxes and throws an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“You know, ever since I saw you on the wedding day, I was happy to have you as my wife,” Seonghwa hums, rocking you back and forth slightly.
You tilt your head up to smile at him sweetly. “And seeing you in your wedding robes looking every bit of a fairy, I was happy to have you as my husband.” Seonghwa leans down to press his lips against yours, brushing your hair behind your ear. You can feel his own smile against your mouth and your eyes flutter shut.
“Let’s stay like this for as long as we can.”
515 notes · View notes
telail · 4 months
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☆- [7:26 AM] Waking up with Wooyoung
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Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Poc!Fem!Reader Tags: 1k wc, established relationship, fluff, suggestive, ateez scenario 🎧- PILLOWTALK by ZAYN note: a request for my pookie and current fave moot @kairoot hope u like it stinka. ^3^ - TAE
You had to move as slowly, and as quietly as possible.
That is if you didn't want to wake up the ticking time bomb next to you. Softly snoring with his mouth slightly agape, it looked as if he was in the deepest state of zen that an unconscious person could possibly be in.
But you knew better than to believe that. It was Wooyoung, for all you knew he’d crack his eyes open at the sound of a deep sigh. 
Your body had subconsciously woken you up without the help of an alarm about 40 minutes before you needed to head out for work.
Wooyoung lay still on his stomach, his head facing in your direction as his arm bent slightly above his head. Resting barley under your pillow but more so under his. 
You sat up and stretched, extending your limbs in the most subtle way possible in hopes that your boyfriend would not interrupt his own rest and wake up at the simple movement of your stretching.
Your hopes were in vain when just as you were about to relax your arms from their place above your head you felt warm slender fingers glide their way across the little portion of your slightly exposed tummy. Settling on the other side of your hip with a subtle squeeze.
The sensation of Wooyoung’s fingers tickled and caught you off guard a bit, causing you to jolt and bring your arms down in one quick motion.
“Morning baby..” He mumbles, a sleepy smirk making its way onto his face as he turned his head slightly away from you to yawn.
“Good morning, woo.” You respond, your tiredness still evident in your voice.
He hummed to himself, using the arm that had already secured itself around your waist to tug you closer to him.
“Hey..” You say, sighing. You were intending to start a sentence but when you moved to look at him you were met with Wooyoung’s tired yet love filled eyes. Making you cut yourself off just to admire his current appearance for a moment or two.
“Hi pretty.” He responded, grinning and resting his eyes shut for a little longer than a few seconds.
You thought he’d fallen asleep again, that is until when you went to move, his grip on you only tightened as he urged you to stay close to him.
“You work today?” He grumbled, opening his eyes to look at you once again. “I do.”
He whined at this, rolling himself over so that he was laying in your lap. He looked up at you, his plump bottom lip jutting out a little, he was pouting.
“Don't look at me like that, you know my schedule honey. I’ve gotta make money one way or another.” You said, running your free hand through his messy but layered blonde and black strands.
“You don't “gotta” make money, you just choose to. I make enough for both of us and more.” He negotiated, peppering light kisses over the scape of your navel. He’d rubbed his hand under the cloth of your cami so that the lower portion of your belly was revealed to him. 
“Call out,” He said between kisses. “Tell them you’ve come down with something and can't make it.” 
You sighed, it wasn't often but every now and then Wooyoung would get a break in his schedule and would want to sleep in, but not without you.
“I can’t do that, I’m fine. If I stayed I'd probably end up staying in bed all day.” You said, a small smile making its way onto your face as you thought back to you and Wooyoung’s last lazy day where you’d stayed in bed and cuddled, made out, and watched dramas all day.
“What's wrong with that?” He asked, lifting one of his eyebrows slightly as his body relaxed against his will at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his scalp.
“Everything when I’m supposed to be working.” You huffed. You tried to make a quick escape and shimmy your way from under him but you weren't able to get more than both legs off the bed when he clung onto you like a sloth on a branch.
“You know..” he started, a pinch of mischief in his tone. “I could really give you a reason to stay in bed all day. If that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” You groaned, fighting back a smile as you rolled your eyes and maneuvered yourself out of his grip. “I am not.”
He laughed at your reaction, loosening his grip enough to let you finally get up but not before grabbing your wrist when you went to walk away.
He puckered his lips expectantly, normally you'd oblige with his silent request for a kiss but you’d just woken up not too long ago and felt the need to brush your teeth more than anything.
You blew him an air kiss watching as his face contorted into that of disapproval. 
“I need to brush my teeth.” You said, suppressing a giggle at his offended expression.
“On my cheek then.” He said turning his cheek towards you, still a little puffy considering the fact that he’d just woken up.
You shook your head before leaning in to peck him on what you thought was gonna be his cheek before he turned his head at the last moment to meet your lips with his.
“Woo-” you went to protest and pull away but his hand had come up to the back of your head to gently hold you in place as he planted 2 more kisses on your lips then a third on your cheek. 
He pulled back with a proud grin, licking his lips as he watched you walk towards your shared bathroom, mumbling about him being gross.
“Love you too baby.” He said, stretching his own limbs and sitting up, preparing to mess with you throughout your entire morning routine until you eventually would leave him without you for a few hours.
He didn’t mind though, as long as you came back to him so he could do it all over again.
excuse any mistakes ;P
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ms-demeanor · 5 months
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I don't even know what to call this but oh my god.
I had leftover pie crust but not enough for a pie and three apples, which is not enough for a pie, and some honey I accidentally got water in and this isn't a pie and it's weird and it's so good.
It's kind of a take on my caramel apple pie in that the base components are apples, butter, and brown sugar but I also added two teaspoons of cinnamon and a few tablespoons of watery honey and half a teaspoon of almond extract. It was about half a cup of brown sugar and maybe a third of a cup of melted (salted!) butter and 3 tablespoons of potato starch.
Baked at 400 for 45 min.
The edges are covered in this foamy bubbly caramel stuff that like, hardens into candy as you chew it. I used envy apples so it's very sweet and just a tiny bit tart. The water from the apples and honey and the butter soaked into the very thin layer of crust so it's crispy rather than flaky in a very nice way.
It's not a pie, it's kind of a tart? But not. It's just really really good and it's frustrating when something I randomly mixed together to use up ingredients comes out well enough that I want to duplicate the recipe but the recipe includes stuff like "honey I accidentally got some water in when I was trying to decrystallize it."
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writingoddess1125 · 6 months
Text
Relationship Fluff
Simon 👻, Soap 🧼, König 👑
They realize they are getting chubby being in a happy relationship
Simon, Soap, König x GnReader
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Support me on Ko-Fi! ☕️
Ghost - Comfort Meals
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You and Simon had been dating for well over a year now, it had been a happy accident how you two had met. What was anquick tumble in the sheets after a drunken night you had woken up early and made breakfast for the solider much to his surprise. Truthfully it had been far too long since he had a home-cooked meal so it had been a delight to his senses and heart.
Assuming it was just a one off, Simon did agree to take your number and 'maybe' stop by if he got the need or chance.. Which ended up backfiring on him wonderfully, It took 6 months for you two to move in together, 8 months for you to see his face and Simon taking leave more often to be with you.
This was one of those times, having 3 weeks to himself to spend being pampered in your love and affection. That and the cooking- he hadn't realized how much he missed good hot meals that weren't from a bag or a mess hall, So he was practically a garbage disposal for you. Eating all the food you had to make, every treat you wiped up from a pinterest blog.
It was heaven!
He had gotten up early, like every morning and sat out on the patio taking in the morning air while reading. He did some basic chores and straightened up, knowing you preferred the kitchen area to yourself. Saying it was 'Yours' afterall.
"Honey! Breakfast is ready" You call out, Simon quick to set down his book and roll up. Knowing a nice breakfast and black coffee was waiting for him.
"Thank you Lov" He said softly and kissed your cheek as you set out both plates, pouring a cup of black coffee for himself as the plate of waffles, eggs, and bacon greeting him.
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"My angel" He said and kissed your cheek lovingly as you sat next to him to tuck into the meal.
Mindless conversation taking place between you two as you guys ate, Simon getting seconds and a cup of tea for himself as well.
"Oh before I forget, Si can you go to the market to pick up some things? I was going to make cakes tonight" He nodded at the simple request, the closest market at around a 20 minute drive from your home anyway so it wasn't an issue.
"I can head out now, Get it done with" He said calmly, Standing up to take both your empty plates and cleaned them up. Always cleaning since he felt it was fair before heading upstairs to change to head into town.
Deciding that his jeans and coat would do fine started to change into that quickly, Mumbling about needing gas and.. and?..
Simon Paused- The pants felt tighter then it had before.. even if these were admittedly older pants they should have been fine not a new tightness around his admittedly full stomach.
Pulling off his shirt he took a look at his for in the bathroom mirror- while still seeing his muscular and admittedly large build however around his stomach and sides there was a new thin layer of.. Fluff? Some pudge that had defiently not been there before and just slightly dampening his abs.
"The hell?" He mumbled, look over himself. You walking into the room as well and seeing him staring at himself in the mirror.
"Something wrong?" You question, walking back to him as you see him looking at himself in the mirror.
"I've gained weight?" He questioned as he looked back at you, This surpsing you as you personally didn't see any difference.
"You look fine to me, Sexy too" You wink which earns a laugh from the man who quickly pulls you into his arms.
"While I do appreciate your support I've gained some weight. Seems I've gotten too comforble with the nice suppers and cakes" He said with a sigh, surprised he had let the comfort of food do this. You kissed his cheek gently and giggle.
"It's probably relationship weight"
"Relationship weight?" He questioned with a brow as you laugh and blush softly.
"It common for people in a comforble and happy relationship to sort of- Get comforble physically if you will" He hummed at hearing this smirking at the idea.
"Well if that is the case, I'm going to end up like the Stay Puff Marshmellowman" He said with a chuckle and kissed you.
Soap - Candy Monster
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Candy- candy everywhere. That's how you two even found each other was by candy. Johnny wasn't a man huge of sweets till he met you, working as a repair specialist for the team you would fix all the toys they constantly broke- often eating on candy or giving out candy whenever any of the team members would stop by to gather their things. Johnny enjoying your clear sweet tooth always partook in your offers, which lead to hour long talks, sharing different candies from around the world and eventually dates. Who knew that just some candy could lead the Scot to the happiest time of his life-
Two years of relationship bliss which had fulfilled the Soilders life in ways he didn't know possible. While he was still in the service with you in his life, he was starting to take some steps back in order to create a distance for you to be in his life. The nice condo adding to this as well since you two had moved in together the year previously.
"The new candy bag is here!" You call out as you walk into the kitchen area seeing Johnny sipping his drink and excitedly looking to see what was brought. The monthly surprise bag of candy was your idea and truthfully he had found it genius.
"Uh let's see, some yuzu japanese white chocolate, Lucas chamoy candy, oh Cream savers! I used to love these" You say cheerfully ajd quickly open the bag- Johnny curious as well as he held out a hand which you happily handed him a few.
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Johnny unraveled the strawberry sweet and put it to his lips as normal. Used to the constant wave of new confectionery that you passed to him, humming as he tasted the waves of strawberry and cream that filled his senses.
"Oh these are good- a little odd?" He hummed as he bit through the hard treat making your face scrunch up.
"Impacient as always" You muse as he crunched through the hard candy with a grin.
"Just like to get to the good part" He winked taking a few more candies into his mouth as you giggle at his reaction.
"Still ready for dinner tonight?" Johnny questioned, a gleam in his eyes as he watched your enthusiasm at it.
"Yeah- Also the show is on tonight" You remind him earning a knowing smile from the man, His eyes drifting to his phone to check the time which prompted you to do the same.
"Oh the shows almost on! Wanna watch it then head to dinner?" You said cheerfully, always watching to catch your favorite TV show before leaving anywere. Johnny of course agreeing before he headed upstairs to get a head start on changing.
"I'll be right down!" He called out, having a outfit in mind already as he reached for his 'sexy jeans' and a nice botton up.
Johnny huffed as he jumped up and down to get the jeans over his body. Stopping as he looked, sure they must have shrunk in the wash or- thays when he looked again.. noticing the thickening of his thighs and admittedly his ass.
He stared for a moment at the jeans before breaking out in a laugh. Grabbing some sweats instead as he headed back down to you with a smirk.
"You Husband weight me Darlin" He said with a almost proud smirk, you raising a brow at this.
"Husband weight?" You question, Watching him slap his plushed hip with a laugh.
"You are fattenin me up like I were ya husband" He said calmly as he plopped next to you, pulling you into his lap.
"I hope that's not a bad thing" You giggle, assuming he enjoyed it.
"It means ya make me happy darling" He said with a laugh before kissing your cheeks and leaned back to enjoy the show, well hidden in his sweatpant pockets a velvet box laid.
König - Taste Tester
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Now most would find it cliché that a soldier ended up with a medic- and König would have no issue telling them to mind their own. You had saved his life, and gained his heart in one swoop.
After a rather nasty battle he had been rushed to the nearest Army Hospital were you had been, saving him from the brink of death and respected his boundaries. You two spending hours just talking about books, shows and different foods you had tasted while in the military- Both of you being quite the foodies.
It had been a long time to build trust between each other, however it had been worth it to say the least. After several years of a slow and steady relationship it had become clear you two would be permanent in each other's lives, moving in together and creating a routine for each others wants and needs.
It was a rare moment but both of you were on leave at the same time, having a nice long break from the hard demands of your guys jobs. König was sitting at the dining room table finishing a Lego set, this time being the Van Gogh one, a hobby he had taken up to help him relax and focus.
"Hey Love, How does this taste?" You question and hand him a spoon of something which he eats without question. His eyes lighting up as he nodded- Fried rice, some form of gravy or curry, and nice soft eggs.
"Ja, gut Schatz! (Its food Love), What is it?" He questioned as he hands back the cleaned spoon and you give him another spoonful which he inhails.
"It's Omurice, I found the recipe and wanted to give it a go. I don't know if I got the egg constancy right but I'm more concerned about taste" You shrug truthfully König clearly agreeing as he turned to look if you had anymore- this drawing a laugh from you as you make him a fat plate which he accepts happily.
"Danke" He says quickly before tucking into the large plate, happily chatting away setting his lego project further on the table so it didn't get disturbed. You only pausing the conversation to point to the larger males shirt which had a large stain on it.
"You got sauce on your shirt love" You say with a giggle, the Austrian make looking down and sighing softly. Giving a quick curse as he stood up to change his shirt.
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Heading upstairs he took off his shirt and went to grab another when he paused and looked at himself in the mirror-
Now König knew he was a big guy- that was no surprise however he was defiently noticing he was becoming a bigger guy. Mainly his shirts didn't fit the same around his stomach and sides region but he hadnt really noticed till now, Looking himself over he saw a nice thin layer of plush over his whole form.
He blushed at this, realizing he may have been getting way more comforble then he realized. Remembering his mother telling him that once a person finds themselves in a life long relationship they can get bigger due to being comforble.
Had he truly gotten that comforble? He thought back to the days they would spend together, how he found everything that you did to be adorable and you had just become a part of his life. His heart fluttering at the thought as his need for a new shirt was forgotten and be stepped out of the room.
He walked back down, shirtless still in deep thought as he held his stained garmet. You raised a brow at seeing him so out of it and holding the shirt, Stepping forward you gently touch his hand to gently bring him back to you.
"König? Love you okay?" You question as he finally comes back to reality and blinks at you. Like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.
"König?.." You question again but he leans down and instead captures your lips in a deep kiss. A blush forming over both of your cheeks at the suddently passionate kiss, he pulled away after a moment after the need for air won out. After a moment of catching your breaths he stared you in the eyes.
"Let's go to the Juwelier (Jewlery Store) Tommorow Liebling~" He said with a shy smile and hands on your hips, A new sparkle in his eyes.
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stellar-skyy · 1 day
Note
hello dear <3 i was thinking an iced hibiscus tea for arlecchino, perhaps? feel free to decide the specifics and details on this one hehe
“i have an order ready for arlecchino! an iced hibiscus tea, for arlecchino!”
☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!
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i. SUMMARY: Arlecchino's child is struggling, but she is there to reassure them. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. platonic arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. iii. A/N: the way i ran to get this order done- THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE THIS ILY /p
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It was a cold day in the House of the Hearth when Arlecchino called upon one of her children for nothing more than a simple chat.
One of the unspoken rules of the House was that the most leisurely of discussions were only a preface to something deeper; layers of ulterior motives hidden underneath an innocent invite for tea. Some children had never glimpsed the privilege of being summoned to her office, while others found themselves carving a dent into her seat cushions with the number of times they sat in them. But one thing remained unchanging with every visit: their Father would send for them with a purpose, and they would not leave until it was fulfilled.
When [Name] received word that they were to visit Arlecchino’s office at 7:00pm sharp, their first instinct was dread; for the dozens of possible reasons for them being the one to be called upon. Musing upon the ‘why’s shifted their mood from the dull thrum of anxiety to sweeping waves of confusion. As far as they were concerned, they had no due cause for such a meeting with the Director herself; no failed missions to be reprimanded over, no shady plots of subterfuge to be exposed. They weren’t any rowdier or more troublesome than any other of the children, so the list of matters that would merit a visit was short.
Still, they knew better than to avoid the call. 7:00pm, they stood outside the office, hand poised over the door. They closed their eyes, knocking on it sharply and wincing at the echo that reverberated off the walls.
Three short raps. A smooth, calm voice, from inside the room: “Come in.”
The doorhandle creaked loudly as it turned. The door was old, and rather heavy, so it took a gentle shove to push it fully open to reveal the neat, cozy office inside.
“Ah, [Name], you’ve arrived.” Arlecchino greeted them as they entered. She was seated behind her desk as she usually was, with a full tea-set in front of her. As they slowly approached, she motioned towards the plush chairs opposite her. “Please, take a seat. I have been waiting for you.”
They quickly settled into the closest chair, hands folded in their lap. The room was quiet and cold; enough to send an uncomfortable prickle down their spine. Arlecchino paid no mind to their uneasiness; her hands were busy deftly arranging the teacups on the tray. Once she was satisfied with their placement, she then moved to pick up the teapot.
“I have some new tea from Liyue,” she hummed, gently tipping the teapot to let the dark red drink fill one cup, then two. Steam rose from each, cutting through the chill of her office. “Hibiscus. It’s quite sour, but I have added a spoonful of honey and sugar to the brew to sweeten it.”
She held one of the teacups out, and they clasped both hands around it with a murmured thanks. As they moved to take it from her, the side of their palm brushed against her fingers—icy cold, enough to make them shiver with a single touch.
“Your night has been well, I am assuming?” Arlecchino asked, taking a sip from her cup.
“Yes,” they murmur, bringing the tea to their lips. It was hot, but just enough not to burn their tongue. The honey she had added did little to mask the sour taste of the hibiscus, but it created a lightly sweet aftertaste that was pleasant enough to warrant a second sip.
“And your days, how have they been?”
They frowned, scanning her expression for any hint of what she wanted. She was clearly speaking to them in search of something, even if she didn’t say it aloud. A mission report, perhaps? They had already submitted the paper copy to her desk, but if she had missed it, or it had gotten lost with the rest of the paperwork handed in that day, she could be waiting for them to recount the mission directly.
“I returned from the mission you sent me on,” they blurted out. “I… it was a success, mostly. No casualties. Minimal injuries. And I also—”
“No need for a summary, I’ve read your report.” Arlecchino cut them off smoothly. “I want to know how you are, not how your mission went.”
They almost choked on their tea. Arlecchino raised an eyebrow at their sudden lack of composure, and they hurriedly covered it up with a half-hearted cough. “S-Sorry… you want to know how I have been… feeling?”
“That is correct.”
The air was thick with silence and the bitter smell of hibiscus, until they blurted out a quick “Fine! I’ve been fine, thank you.”
“Fine?”
“Fine, yes.”
“Interesting. I have been hearing curious things,” Arlecchino said casually. “Some of your siblings seem to have noticed a change in your behaviour. You aren’t sleeping as well, your mood has been significantly worse, you haven’t been joining during social activities. There is clearly something wrong.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” they said weakly. Their feeble attempt at normalcy was nowhere near convincing enough to fool her, and they knew it. They were a passable liar in the best of circumstances, but she was the one person who would always be able to see right through them.
“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
They couldn’t look at her. One look into those sharp eyes, one wrong word and they would crumble right there in her office. They had to keep it together for as long as it took to convince Arlecchino they were alright and be dismissed from her office. They only needed to hold back the burning behind their eyes until they were far away from Arlecchino and her pressing words and bitter tea, and could quietly fall apart.
She was waiting for an answer, but they could hardly breathe through the lump in their throat, let alone formulate a response. If she stopped now, saw them for what they were—a lost cause—and gave up, it would be fine. But instead:
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, and something inside them snapped.
Tears burst from their eyes, spilling over their cheeks and down their face. They gasped, choking back a cry, holding a fist to their mouth to stop the hiccupping and wheezing breaths.
“I’m sorry,” they sniffled, rather pathetically. They kept their head ducked down low, unable to bring themself to look up into her undeniable face of disapproval. If they were any stronger, they could grit their teeth and make up a spiel about how they would do better next time, but instead they had to cry.
Now, not only were they going to be reprimanded for letting their emotions affect their work, they would be scolded for crying as well.
“Now, there is no need for crying.” Arlecchino stood, scraping her chair against the floor. They flinched away from the jarring sound, shrinking inwards with their tear-streaked face hidden in their hands. As much as they tried to stop them, the tears kept flowing into their palms. The walls were shifting closer with each second, and the thick scent of the tea filled their lungs until it choked them with that cloyingly bittersweet scent—
They jumped, as something cold touched their fingers. Their hands were carefully pried away from their face, revealing Arlecchino kneeling in front of them, with an unusually concerned expression on her face.
“I’m not upset with you, dear.” She said gently. “If that is why you are apologising.”
“You’re not?” they asked slowly. It had to have been a lie, but with how softly she said it, a part of them couldn’t help but wish it was true.
“Of course I’m not. But do you know why I’m not upset with you?” she asked. Hesitantly, they shook their head. “I’m not upset in the slightest, because I know whatever is clouding you is something that you will work through. You will emerge the victor of this battle, no matter what it is.”
They made a strangled sound, and felt a new wave of tears form. Arlecchino sighed, pulling them to their feet and against her chest.
“You are strong,” she said softly, carding her fingers through their hair. “You are capable. You are able to overcome whatever hardships you are facing, no matter how much they wear on you.”
She kissed their temple, her cool lips feeling almost warm pressed to their skin. While she lingered there, she whispered to them, softer than a mother’s touch. “You are strong enough to face this on your own, but even if you aren’t you will always have me here behind you.”
Their hands stretched out to grab the back of her jacket, shuddering out a breath. If Arlecchino minded their teary face being pressed against the front of her clothing, she didn’t comment on it; she only murmured more reassurances as she held them close.
“Just breathe, dear.” She whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
how about "are you comfortable?" with stevie and he's just being really needy with reader
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✶ ┄ PUPPY !
summary: steve isn't just needy, he's downright insatiable, and he'll take you any way you’ll let him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 1.5k warnings: sub steve always needs his own warning, dry humping, r calls steve "puppy" once (spoiler alert: he likes it), smut 18+ a/n: thanks for your request, anon, and for giving me more oppurtunities to write sub!stevie <3
( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )
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Steve Harrington was a sweetheart — the sweetest of sweethearts.
All boyfriends were supposed to be nice, but he was perfect and then some. He’s made of marshmallow fluff, all gooey and saccharine. He loves you so much that it’s got him dripping honey.
It’s sweet. He’s sweet. But sometimes all of his mushy goodness is suffocating.
He’s always needing you. It’s like if he’s not touching you, he might die. Most of the time, it’s purely innocent — a hand on your back to keep you close, an arm around your shoulder to press you into him, fingers spread on your thigh to keep you tethered to him. 
But there’s always another side of that coin, a far dirtier side, that has him rutting up against you like a damn dog.
Freshly showered and winding down for the night, you lie in the middle of your shared bed on your stomach while you flip through a too big novel.
Steve watches you from the doorway. His step stutters when he catches sight of you. It leaves him frozen where he stands. 
Your underwear isn’t anything special, a cotton number he’s seen about a thousand times before, that leaves more of your ass covered than not. Your tank top is possibly older and decorated with a number of dubious stains you've never been able to get out.
And it's not like you’re in the sexiest of positions either, posed in wait for his arrival. It's quite the opposite really. You’re lazing and in your own world, totally sucked into the book you’re reading.
He might've been offended that you didn’t wait for him to come around so you could read to him like you always do, if he weren’t so incredibly hard at the sight of you.
Steve isn’t quite sure how someone could be doing something so mundane, at their most comfortable and more at peace than he’d ever seen, and still be so goddamn beautiful.
It’s just not fair.
He clamors on top of you without saying a word. He presses his nose to your neck, sprinkling tiny kisses onto your skin, while he grinds his hard cock into your ass.
His sweatpants-covered hips drag into you all slow — the feeling makes him exhale sharply in the place of a low moan. Chill bumps erupt at your skin, at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your shoulder, and the gratification of your boy finding you so irresistible.
It’d be too easy, to roll over and let him take you like he wants. You don’t give in so freely. You rarely ever do. Instead, you take to teasing him, mocking him, because you know he likes that just as much as you simply giving yourself to him. 
“Are you comfortable?” you monotone as he rests the bulk of his weight on you.
“C’mon, baby, please,” he all but begs. “I’ll even take a handjob, I just— fuck, you don’t know how hard I am right now.”
“I think I have an idea,” you scoff out a laugh and flip the page, trying your best to ignore the throbbing cock he presses against your ass. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“I just love you,” he mumbles into your neck, punctuating his admission with a kiss.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm…”
You laugh softly to yourself, several exhales through your nose, at the way he ruts into you all needy.
His cock is still prevalent through the thin layers both of you wear, warm and so incredibly hard. You still feel so much of him despite the fabric that separates you. You can tell he went without underwear for the night. It makes the raging hard-on he has for you, that much more prevalent.
It makes you wonder if it hurts. If the stiffness brings about a throbbing and ravenous ache.
“Flattery goes a long way with me, Harrington,” you purr.
You feel his smile contort against the skin of your neck, all proud of himself because he thinks he’s gotten you to concede. “Yeah?” he mumbles before pressing another wet kiss to your shoulder.
“Yep,” you assure. You turn your neck to look at him over your shoulder and it forces him to leave the refuge of you. He’s lit up with anticipation. You’ve got a playful glint in your eye that excites him. “So you can do whatever you want—”
“I like the sound of that.”
“—But you have to keep your pants on.”
His hips still. The smirk on his face washes away like an ebbing tide. His face contorts into a look of confusion — bushy brows furrowed, nose scrunched, and lips quirked. “…What?”
“I’m gonna let you come,” you shrug.
“But I have to… keep my pants on?”
“Yes, Stevie,” you affirm, almost stern as you arch a brow at him. “Do you understand?”
He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, then nods with wide, twinkling eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “I understand.” 
When he humps his cock into your ass again, it takes little time for him to pick up the pace. He was needy before, heavy with his want for you, but now he’s downright desperate. He grinds his hips into you, holding himself up on his forearm — next to the elbow that props up your chin — while he lets out pitiful little whines into your skin. 
He might not be pleasuring you just now, but a similar feeling swirls in the pit of your stomach. You’ll always feel satisfied when he begs for you.
“Fuck, honey, you feel so good,” he murmurs, breathless. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”
“I’m almost done with this chapter. If you’re not finished by the time I’m done, you’ll have to get yourself off, ‘kay?” you warn with a voice that’s far too sweet. You know he’ll be done by the time you’re finished reading. Besides, it’s not like any of the words are sticking in your head, anyway.
But Steve likes a challenge. Give him a time constraint and an obstacle he has to get over, and he’s golden. Your subtle threat, the way you act like you’re not as into it all as he is — like your panties aren’t soaking wet — just makes him need to come more.
“I’m almost there, baby,” he promises under his breath. “I’m almost there— almost there—”
He mumbles it to himself over and over again as pleasure takes over every fucking lobe of his brain. His free hand tightens its grip on your clothed hip, keeping you nice and still for him while he pathetically ruts his weeping, throbbing cock into you.
His wet, pink lips part to let out every heavy breath and low moan. You wish you could see him right now — the glazed look in his honey-tinted eyes before they squeeze shut tight as his orgasm so quickly approaches.
You know that he’s close by the way his hips stutter against you, like he’s fighting to keep his rhythm as his impending orgasm threatens to take control of his body. His sweats go damp and sticky when several loads of come spit from his cock without much warning.
A whine escapes from the depths of his throat and he leans more of his weight against you, still warm and comforting as heavy as he is. His heaving moans are heaven in your ears and stars against your skin.
Steve stays like that, pressed so fully against you, while pathetic whines spill from his mouth. Even on the comedown of his orgasm, just having you so close makes him feel high.
His head is stuck in the clouds until he hears you laughing. Soft, hearty little giggles spill from your mouths — muffled at first like he’s stuck underwater, until he comes back to reality.
Then he’s laughing right along with you, lazy exhales at how good he feels just now.
You shift under him, silently asking for him to roll off of you, and he abides — still so obedient for you. You sit up on your side as he flops onto his back. Your eyes have a hard time leaving his fucked out face, all flushed and glowing red, to catch that darker gray stain at his crotch. Both sights are equally as beautiful. You don’t know which to gape at.
“Was it worth it?” you ask him with an arched brow.
“Every damn second,” he pants with a sloppy grin.
“Good,” you smile back at him, pressing a too innocent peck to his warmed, freckled cheek. “Now go get cleaned up. You’re a fucking mess, babe.”
Steve eyes flit from your face to the wet spot spreading on his gray sweatpants. He’s embarrassed, almost, feeling like a teenager who’s got the stamina of a goldfish. But he’s more so terrified of leaving this room.
To get to the bathroom, he’ll have to walk by Robin and Eddie’s rooms, and he’d rather die than run into them in a pair of come-stained pants.
“How am I supposed to walk out like this?” he wonders, bewildered.
You shrug in response. “You’re the one who made the mess. You figure it out, puppy,” you tease innocently, though you don’t miss the way Steve briefly perks up at the use of the pet name. The feeling of anticipation swims in your stomach all over again.
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luveline · 9 months
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hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3
thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k
cw discussed maternal mortality and death
Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome. 
Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."
"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight. 
He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup. 
"Dad," she whines. 
"Avery," he whines back. 
She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead. 
"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it. 
He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works. 
"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?" 
"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle. 
"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.
"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries. 
Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book. 
"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?" 
"No, please," she says. 
He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?" 
"I'm not hungry, daddy." 
Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?" 
"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.
"Where are you going?" he asks. 
"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince. 
"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her. 
"Okay!" 
"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib. 
Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle. 
"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask. 
"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?" 
"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"
"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."
"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow. 
"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table. 
"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice. 
"Still mad at me?" 
She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no." 
"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww." 
He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.
"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink. 
"I want dessert." 
"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."
"She wakes you up?" Avery asks. 
"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes." 
"It's a good thing she has you, dad."
"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?" 
Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook. 
"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks. 
"I have something to ask you." 
"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer." 
"It's a weird question," Avery warns.   
"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it." 
He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax. 
"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly. 
Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?" 
"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?" 
"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand." 
"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…" 
"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word." 
She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?" 
"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?" 
"Jordan's mom died having a baby." 
Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened. 
"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?" 
"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks. 
Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time. 
"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?" 
"Dad," she says, startled. 
"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking." 
"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says. 
It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass. 
"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen. 
"Hey, mom?" he asks. 
Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight. 
"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net." 
"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says. 
Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind. 
"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen. 
"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you." 
"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better." 
"She's worried about when you have the baby." 
"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers. 
You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?" 
Avery swallows around nothing. 
Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down. 
"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me." 
He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight." 
"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm. 
You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever." 
"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks. 
"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave." 
"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown. 
Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous." 
Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice." 
He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone. 
"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.
"It makes sense. Sorry." 
You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief. 
"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!" 
"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.
"That's what we're here for." 
Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television. 
"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."
"Are you scared?" 
You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?" 
"Why?" 
"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing." 
Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?" 
"I know so." 
"Thank you," she says. 
You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest." 
Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.) 
"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway. 
"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently. 
"Excuse me." 
You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously. 
"Daddy?" 
"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones. 
Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?" 
"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?" 
His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay." 
Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck. 
He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this. 
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senqv · 1 year
Text
LOVEGAME !
blue lock ! fanfic featuring : michael kaiser x gn! reader
warning(s) : lots of mentions of feminine stuff like dresses & makeup but still can be read as gender neutral ( hopefully ??? ) , kisses <3 , a bittt suggestive , loserboy kaiser , established relationship , no proofread so prolly some spelling / grammar mistakes , lmk if there are more !
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kaiser as the rich football star who loves spoiling his lover. he brings in around 2 million usd annually, so just say the word and he will deliver it. anything from givenchy to giambattista valli; or even the custom-made garments from paris couture week starting from the tens of thousands to several millions.
he’s also quite accustomed to playing around with makeup, loves it when you offer to do his eyeliner for him <3 but really, what he enjoys the most is dressing you up all pretty just for him !!
“gorgeous,” kaiser whispers, lithe fingers going down the side of the navy satin gown from saint laurent, teasingly flitting just below the hemline. his fingers press down onto your thigh at the way your makeup preoccupies you instead of paying attention to him, tilting his head to the side as he meets your gaze in the vanity mirror. “just a sec,” you continue to apply your mascara without a care in the world, oblivious to the impatient taps of your boyfriend’s fingers. he leans forward with a sigh, hands caged at either side of your frame.
kaiser frowns in displeasure at your refusal to spare him even a glance, and you can tell he’s getting restless at the way his fingers drum aggressively against the table. “kaiser,” it’s almost funny how fast he looks up at the call of your voice. “sit behind on the bed or something, please ? you’re distracting me.” you say, leaning even more forward to properly apply the opalescent highlights on your eyelid, disregarding the way your boyfriend’s jaw nearly drops at the sheer audacity ?? how dare anyone, much less his own lover, disregard his presence ????
kaiser’s frown deepens as he opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it as he begrudgingly sits on the side of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. he crosses his arms, biceps flexing visibly below his rolled sleeves that were just a tad too tight. from the corner of his eye, he can see you uncapping a tube, recognising it as the rouge hérmes lipstick he gifted to you not too long ago. the wine red sheen makes your lips especially ravishing, and he has to tear his gaze away before he gives in to his desires to kiss you until you can’t think. not after that stunt you pulled !!
kaiser purposely avoids your gaze as you walk towards him, glancing to the side and keeping his arms crossed as you climb into his lap. “kaiser,” your voice is a teasing lilt, and kaiser turns his head away from you, powered by pure spite and pettiness. “michael,” voice dropping to a saccharine sweetness, and usually this would do the trick. but kaiser seems hellbent on teaching you a lesson today. and so he continues to glance away from you, bottom lip jutting out adorably.
your lips curve down into a pout, pulling out all the stops. your pointer tips his chin towards you, sultry voice akin to dripping honey as you call out a “darling ?” you can see the way his adam’s apple bobs as heat rises from his neck, flushed face and all. finally, he turns towards you, still futilely trying to evade your gaze.
“ja? mmh-!” he is cut off by the press of your lips against his, jolting from the sudden kiss. you don’t think you’ve ever heard kaiser whimper as he shakily snakes his hands around your waist and behind your head, melting further into you. his tongue licks at your lips as you part breathlessly, desperate for more. his lips are stained a delicious red, and you’re sure that your mouth, too, is awfully smudged by that gorgeous carmine. his chest rises up and down unsteadily, pupils dilated and blown wide.
“you-“ you pay no mind at his protests, swiping on another layer of lipstick as you end whatever he was about to say with another kiss on the corner of his lips. then on his cheek; down his neck, the tip of his nose; he shivers at every touch of your lips, and if someone were to walk in, they’d think you were bullying the mighty emperor with the way he was shaking, a wild flush on his face.
you giggle as you admire your finished masterpiece, red kiss marks littered all over his face and down the dip of his half-buttoned shirt. he looks dazed, sharp blue eyes unusually cloudy. you take a glance down at his patek philippe 1915 watch. “hey, we’re gonna be late.” suddenly, you’re hauled back onto his lap, his grip on your waist tighter than ever. his gaze is electrifying, staring with a certain vivacity you’ve only seen him have on field. “again,” he whispers, eyes lidded as he brushes his lips against yours. “wait- kaiser!”
he is practically feral, leaning down and bending you back that you would fall if it wasn’t for his unwavering grip at your waist. a kiss at the side of your lips, against your mouth again, and repeat. “mmh- enough, ‘s too much-” you whine tiredly, hitting his back in vain. “too much? ” a mocking smile forms on his face. “im just getting started.”
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lululandd · 11 months
Text
being captain john price’s significant other would include:
>:3
♡ quick maffs.
you know for a fact its faster to ask him than to get your phone out, unlock it, open the calculator app, and typing the numbers in. it’s a blessing, really.
♡ never missing any appointments.
he just… rmemebers. man has near eidetic memory and even when he’s away at work he would message you to remind you of an appointment. man does not forget.
♡ would i lie to you?
price watches this show religiously. borderline obsessive even. can he find their tell on first watch? can he guess if its true or false? if you're both watching he would tell you tidbits about how to spot lies and all that. he had only been caught off guard twice watching this show. once was the one with claudia winkleman and her pet turtle yoshi, the other was kevin bridges accidentally buying a horse.
♡ lots of emoji replies.
you could be asking him for a quickie and he would answer with a “🤔🕦❓ 🕚❓”
♡ knowing features on your phone that even you dont know about.
“longpress the spacebar, love, it’s faster.”
“you can screenshot whole website pages, you don’t have to take individual shots.”
♡ zero tolerance for childish/bullshitty behaviour.
hes a funny man. silly. goofy. hilarious even. loves bantering around and mucking about. but the moment you try to act out to get in trouble or do something stupid for attention, he’s immediately captain john price. the change is drastic, immediate, and you don’t ever wanna see it again. mans has discipline ingrained into every fibre of his being and would not tolerate anything that could jeopradise both your image and your safety.
♡ having Nik and Gaz around on random holidays.
one day he just brought them over for christmas. Nik brought a simple two layered medovik (honey cake), and Gaz brought in potato dauphinoise. to this day you cannot replicate both dishes to perfection no matter how hard you try.
♡ random phone calls on random hours of the day no matter if he’s on duty or at home.
“hello?”
“allright?”
“yes john im fine.”
“good.”
and then hangs up.
you will never forget the one time he was so absorbed in research and paperwork that he called you. from the next room. you came into his study and he looked at you dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before you both burst into laughter.
♡ english breakfast.
in every brand imaginable. he likes certain brands in the morning, some brands he says are better drank during the rain or some shit like that. you tried pranking him by just giving him assam tea to see if he can tell the difference, and apparently he can distinguish immediately by smell so there goes that prank :’)
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shogunish · 7 months
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𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿.
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pairing. student! gojo satoru x reader
genre. fluff, slice of life, idiots in love
warnings. tooth-rotting fluff
summary. and when you laugh at his stupid comment, leaves of all colors and sizes in your hair, cheeks red from the low temperatures, he finally knows why you love autumn so much.
words. 901
note. don't imagine falling in love with toru in autumn, sharing hot chocolate, cozy movie dates and him giving you his sweater bc yours don't keep you warm enough
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <3
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satoru doesn't know why you love autumn so much when it's not only the busiest time for sorcerers, but also annoyingly windy with sudden downpours out of nowhere. days are cut short since the sun would set earlier than usual and dark skies would envelop tokyo at five pm instead of at nine in the late evening. autumn is the season in which everything starts dying or hiding away; may it be trees drying out and shedding their once lush leaves or that small hedgehog across the street searching for a cozy, safe place to hibernate.
a scowl rested on satoru's handsome face. the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks are bitten red by the chilly temperatures lingering in the streets. snot runs from his nostril and he sniffles. even the coat paired with the scarf wrapped around his neck can't stop his runny nose. satoru isn't sick, oh no. if anything, he's sick of the weather.
chilly temperatures always equal a runny nose for satoru.
he sighs, cerulean eyes rolling behind pitch black shades. "next time, you go on that walk by yourself. my doctor will hear about you if i get sick."
a light bounce is in your step. turning to face satoru, you smile at him. "stop exaggerating. i just wanted to see you and spend some time with you." satoru is right next to you, eyeing you from his peripheral. "you've been away so much ever since autumn came."
he just scoffs. luckily, satoru's cheeks are already red or else you would've called him out on the blush blooming across his cheeks. he likes to pretend to be tough and immune to your words when in reality, each of your honeyed words cut through his defenses like butter.
"must miss me real bad, huh? how cute." satoru puffs his chest out, proud of the comment he's just come up with.
a little pout rests upon your lips and all of a sudden, you feel a little shy, because yes, you do miss satoru real bad and feel almost..lonely without him. but with an ego as massive as satoru is tall, you can't give him that sort of satisfaction. so all you do is huff in response. "all i heard is that i'm cute."
selective hearing, hm?
despite the several layers of clothes hiding your skin and keeping you toasty warm, satoru knows how to worm his way through every single layer until he is underneath your skin, flustering you and making you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
popping into your personal bubble, he wears a smug smirk on his chapsticked lips. "ohhh, you do miss me!" satoru chirps, tosses his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.
occasionally, satoru forgets how strong he is compared to you and is a bit rougher with you than he should be. the pull is sudden, makes you squeak as you slip on a damp leaf and lose your balance. instead of finding yourself in satoru's arm, your butt lands in a pile of dried leaves.
dumbfounded you stare at satoru, owlishly blinking at him while a few leaves get stuck on the top of your head. he thinks he fucked up, will get a real good scolding from you, telling him to be more careful, but your nagging never comes.
instead, you laugh heartily with round cheeks and your teeth showing off. a melodious sound that fills the park and drips right into the cracks of satoru's heart, turning the snow into sweet, saccharine honey.
his heart does this funny thing again. the thing where it skips a beat and pumps just a tad bit harder, making him feel warm from the core up.
before satoru can even think about teasing you, a handful of leaves is flung right at his face and he finds himself laughing along with you. "what was that for?"
"for letting me fall and getting my ass wet!" you're still laughing, then your face scrunches up as satoru flings his own fistful of leaves at your face.
you begin chasing him with two fistfuls of leaves. suddenly, red, yellow and orange is stuck in his hair and you realize..it makes his eyes look even more mesmerizing than they already are. how unfair.
"not my fault you're getting your ass wet over me!"
oh, he's having the time of his life chasing you around the park, flinging dried leaves at each other and laughing so carelessly without a worry in the world. your laughter mixes with his, creating a symphony that only something akin to love could compose.
"oh, shut up, will you?!" playfully, you shove satoru into a pile of leaves, but if he's going down, he's taking you with him.
grabbing you by the collar, satoru falls into the pile of leaves with you and laughs alongside you. a tangled mess of limbs and puffs of white smoke fill the space around you. your head rests somewhere on satoru's chest while his arms and legs are sprawled out like a starfish.
"i'll only shut up if you make me, darling." satoru wiggles his eyebrows at you, all in good fun.
and when you laugh at his stupid comment, leaves of all colors and sizes in your hair, cheeks red from the low temperatures, he finally knows why you love autumn so much.
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taglist; @torusmochi
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sapphic-gardn · 5 months
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i will
ellie williams x f!reader
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summary: grief is complex and painful, ellie comforts you.
warnings: mentions of grief, nudity, ellie and reader take a bath together, mentions of boogers (yk when u have a runny nose from crying? yeah), no specific descriptions of reader other than having boobies and flesh, i dont think there is anything else but let me know!
word count: 1.3k
a/n: hi! i’ve returned from my hundred year long hiatus to torment you all. i started writing this comfort piece while i was experiencing life at Rock Bottom. i also found a lot of inspiration from the song i will by mitski <3 also thank you to @hier--soir for helping me with this one 💓 your writing inspires me, truly—i appreciate you tons & tons.
You find yourself curled up on the floor, the crisp breeze sweeping in from the crack under your front door. Chills dance over your skin, seeping into your body, coating your organs in a thin layer of ice. Your tears shed with a blue hue, painting your lips in a sheer lapis tint. Teeth chatter, bone against bone, reminders of the skeleton that is burrowed beneath layers of adipose tissue. Each exhale is accompanied by a dull ache.
Nights bring you here, disentangling your limbs from the warm confines of cotton sheets, calculated movements so as to not wake your girlfriend from slumber. The numbness creeps in through obscured dreams, visions of faces, now ghosts that haunt every distant memory. You emerge from the darkness, featherlight footsteps over creaky floors, loitering around the house amidst bewitching hours. You converse with the night sky, a one-sided interaction that mostly consists of your pleas—tell me why. Grief consumes you like tidal waves swallowing the shoreline. A mere particle of sand engulfed in foam, getting propelled further, further away from dry land.
The vibrations of Ellie’s bare feet padding on the wooden floor rumble through you. Her rasp breaks the silence. Baby—the only word that leaves her chapped lips, a pitiful tone leaking from her honeyed voice. Her hand caresses your tear stained cheek. Upon contact, a shrill sob rips through your larynx. You choke on anguish that rises like bile, it burns your esophagus as it creeps up.
Gentle hands guide your tenuous form to your feet, securing themselves at your sides. Subtle squeezes to the meat of your hips, wordlessly speaking—I’m here.
In your hazy state, you’re waltzed to the bathroom. One of Ellie’s hands fumbles with the light switch while she delicately maneuvers your entirety to sit upon the closed toilet seat. Cold porcelain hits the backs of your thighs, you hiss at the contact, a wince paints your expression. Ellie coos your name, a hushed thing that warms you from the inside. You study her features, a line forms between her furrowed brows, her green eyes searching for your own. Her gaze brings a settling feeling, something like a merciful wake up call. Ellie’s earthy scent mingles with the air. You inhale, the musky essence settles in your lungs, growing limbs and reaching for your heart; wrapping itself around the muscle in a tight embrace.
A tear slips past your waterline, her calloused thumb swiftly catches it as it trails down your cheek. A smile tugs at Ellie’s lips, “You’ve got boogers,” she gestures to your mucin coated upper lip with her pointer finger. An involuntary chortle escapes your mouth, alighting your saddened expression, “There she is, my pretty girl.”
Her focus shifts to the tub beside you, leaving the spot in front of you to turn the faucet on. Ellie peers over her shoulder to look back at you, “Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?”
Her digits fiddle with the running water as it warms, you examine the way her tendons tug at her knuckles, the freckled skin pulled taut with each swipe under the stream of water. Your eyes land on her side profile, you trace the shape of her nose and the protrusion of her pout like an etch a sketch to your brain. You count the freckles on her face, connecting them like constellations. Admiration blooms in your chest, you clutch your shirt where your heart beats faster.
Once the tub fills halfway, Ellie is undressing you—delicately tugging at the hem of your sleep shirt, pulling the thin material over the peaks and valleys of your body. Her touch is silken, it tickles your nerve endings, chills awaken beneath her fingertips. With each sliver of skin revealed, she whispers, beautiful, you’re so beautiful. And in these moments, you believe her, she utters the words with such conviction. You breathe with ease, allowing yourself to surrender to the woman disarming you.
She guides you towards the tub. Soft hands on your arm, your waist. That low, rasping voice in your ear, one foot, now the other… easy now, until you’re over the lip of the tub and being lowered into warm water. You let yourself sink a little lower, feel the water lap over your neck, your hair. You tilt your head back until everything is submerged except your face. Your eyes close, listening. You let the pressure of the water beat against your eardrums. Oceanic sounds bounce around inside your skull. For a split moment you are the sand and the sea, a shell burrowed in the earth.
When your eyes open, you meet the longing gaze of your partner. She admires the halo-shape your hair forms as it floats, the curve of your breasts breaking the surface, the way your tummy moves in waves with each steady inhale and exhale.
Your eyes wander to where Ellie is stepping out of her boxers, peeling her worn tank top over her auburn bed head, discarding the article in the tile. Her focus never falters from you. She looks so beautiful like this, the soft white light casting an illuminating glow to her supple skin. You sit up, folding your legs in, scooting forward—silent invitations. With two long strides, Ellie’s lanky limbs are climbing into the tub behind you. Your bodies mingle, arms and legs tangle and untangle, an uncoordinated tango.
Ellie surrounds you, she is everywhere. The warmth radiating from her coats every inch of your flesh like a blanket. Her thighs are pressed up against the sides of your own, caging you in, the physical security plucking away at your guardedness. Slippery arms snake around your middle, a vice grip pressing you against her front. You feel her heartbeat thump against your ribcage, feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. A connection so primal, so powerful, tethering you to her. Her lips graze the crook of your neck, a sigh escapes you, releasing the tension held in your abdomen. Taught muscles unfurl; a calmness washes over your senses.
Ellie begins to hum, short breaths tickling the shell of your ear. You recognize the song, familiar but just out of reach.
“What are you singing, baby?”
Ellie hushes you, “Shh, shh, just listen to me.”
Her gravelly tone recites the lyrics, “When all my hair turns grey, enter our twilight years,” you listen intently, the song bubbling at the forefront of your mind. A memory plays, placing a fragile disc in your record player, the needle spinning in its grooves, Ellie excitedly rehashing how she found it on patrol.
Both of you sat on the couch that night and tuned in, entwined and entranced. During the fourth song, Ellie stood, offering a hand—dance with me. And so, your bodies swayed around the living room as one entity. “And our friendships slip away, finding it hard to hear.”
Ellie memorized the lyrics, serenading you for weeks, “No I’ll never be afraid, as long as I still have you,” confessing her feelings through the Alessi Brothers.
And now, she croons the same song, “Together in an ocean of life / Just yours and mine / Motionless time / Love is the answer to eternal life.” Easing your mind, caroling the words that never come easy to her in conversation. Reminders of the fire you alight within her, the tenderness you pull out of her.
She is the breeze, the fierce wind that wrestles with the water. She reels you in from the deep end, a lifeline cast before you take your final breath. Her presence is a sanctuary, your vulnerability takes refuge in her arms—your safe haven.
[end]
a/n: hiii!! if you read this all the way through, thank you! it’s my first time posting an ellie fic so i’m a liiiitle nervous eeee! also im a little rusty on my writing so forgive me if this sucks 🧍🏽‍♀️ and i gave up on editing my last read through bc i need to get this fic out or i will never post it
i have an ellie series and a one shot planned out so hopefully it won’t take me a lifetime to post those!!! okieee byeeee 💓
tagging moots: @ilovepedro @gracieheartspedro @undrthelights @daydreamingmiller @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @amanitacowboy (idk who else to tag i dont have an official taglist lol why is this so embarrassing)
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"Daddy Please" Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 3 Stepdad!Dave York x Reader
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This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. This blog is a personal space and I write predominantly smut, with some dubcon and other Dead Dove Do Not Eat level content. I will always pre-warn for anything triggering and will always endeavour to include tw/cws in the tags, and warnings at the top of my fics.  Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Possessive!Dave, Men being sexist dicks on the internet, choking, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, exhibitionism. Let me know if I missed anything! Graphic made by me, does not convey shape, race, or hair colour of reader, the panties just looked so good, no use of Y/N.
Summary: Your hot stepdad Dave York catches you creating OnlyFans content. [Read on AO3] - [Ko-Fi]
Dave
“Honey? I’m home!”
Dave calls from the front door as he shucks off his dress shoes, hoping beyond hope that his wife was home and his stepdaughter – you – were not. But silence is all that greets him, neither of you it seems are home. He sighs to himself and heads straight for his basement, or his man cave as your mom calls it.
He descends the stairs slowly, fatigue making his body sag, frustration making his neck ache from strain. He’s been gone two weeks on a business trip in Hawaii, to you and your mom, it was some tax scandal for a congressional race in Arizona. In reality, it was a hit on some one-percenter who had fallen on the wrong side of a cartel.
Money can’t buy sense.
He thinks to himself as he throws his suit jacket and briefcase down on the tan, L-shaped sofa in the middle of the basement. He flicks on the TV to check the news and as expected, his hit was on every channel. He smiles morbidly to himself at his anonymous infamy. He groans and stretches as he looks around the bare, dark wood panelled walls, he really needs to remember to decorate this space someday.
The TV runs as background noise as Dave steps into the small office to the right of the basement. He strips bare, his clothes pooling at his feet as he locks the door behind him. This room is more his own, a double bed with crisp white sheets dominates the room. A desk and computer with multiple monitors squeezed into the right side of the room, and a door leading to his ensuite. A small dresser acts as a nightstand wedged between the wall and the bed.
The small space comforts him, one door in, one door out. No windows, no surprises. He lets out a long, heavy sigh of relief as he lets himself relax for the first time since he left two weeks ago. Dave pads into the bathroom and showers, brushes his teeth, and shaves the two weeks of stubble from his face.
Suitably refreshed he throws on a pair of sweatpants and flops down into his leather office chair. He wakes his computer from sleep and pulls up his VPN, scrambling his IP manually before logging into a private browser. Some of it is habit, some part of it is to make sure his wife never sees his browsing history. He doesn’t bother with headphones, no-one is home, and he probably won’t last long anyway.
He almost feels ashamed, sneaking around like a teenager, but when your mom refuses to so much as touch Dave when you’re around, he feels like he has no other choice. The video starts and the streamer is nowhere to be seen, her usual purple sheets are made neatly, her blackout curtains drawn as always. But there’s something new, something that Dave feels uneasy about.
A string of bumblebee fairy lights; hung over her headboard. Double layered in a rainbow of colours that pulse and fade like fireflies in the Summer. Something about it is too familiar, something he feels like he should recognise. He shakes himself out of it, turning to the comments to smirk at their desperation as the stream officially starts with her usual greeting.
“Hey there Daddies, you miss me?” The sweet lilt of his favourite OnlyFans streamer, Princess Luna, is like music to his ears as he feels his cock hardening before she’s even on screen. Comments flash up in the live chat straight away, and Dave chuckles to himself.
He never comments, he just subscribes on his private credit card, tips generously, and almost never misses a stream. Especially when it’s her. He feels superior to the others, never begging for attention, just admiring her in a way he feels no-one else can. He knows he’s being more than a little delusional, but he doesn’t care.
Moments like this, he can forget about how miserable his marriage is.
ImUrDaddy: Oh baby where’ve you been? Daddy’s cock has missed you.
StepDadz129: Fuck Princess, come on let us see you. Daddy needs you.
PDaddy1$: Stop teasing me Luna darlin’, show me that tight little cunt.
The messages keep on coming but Dave isn’t looking anymore, all he sees is Luna sliding into view. As always, Luna’s face is covered with an elaborate masquerade mask. This one is a deep burgundy with black lace forming a veil over her mouth, with gold filigree in swirling baroque floral patterns around her eyes giving her a mystical air.
Her dark red lace panties and bra compliment the mask as she settles on her knees in the middle of her bed. He slips his cock out of his sweatpants and takes himself in one hand, sliding over the soft foreskin languidly as he takes in her breasts. Salivating at the way they swell over her lacy cups, begging to be freed.
“I’ve missed you Daddy, been so tense these last few days, missing my step daddy so much.” She continues and Dave groans audibly at the taboo pet name, his cock already fully hard.
“He’s been away for two whole weeks, and all I want is him to stuff me full of his fat cock until he spills his load in me.”  
Dave tries to push the nagging feeling in his mind away, something is off, but he grits his teeth as he focuses on the beautiful woman on screen, her hands already pulling her lacy bra down over her pert nipples. He slowly pumps his cock, desperate for release but he’s not going to let himself go. Not yet. The shows only just begun.
~*~
You
A knock at the front door startles you, your two fingers are deep inside you as the stream begins to heat up.
“Shit,” You curse to yourself and quickly spring up from the bed, “Sorry Daddy, I’ll be right back.”
You hear the comment notifications go wild in your wake and you silently bless whatever distraction has come up. Your viewers are going to be so thirsty for you once you get back. You shoulder on a black silk robe embroidered with white cranes and loosely tie it around you.
You hurry down the stairs, eyes glued to your phone where you watch the comments come in on the stream.
PDaddy1$: Baby! Come back you were doing so good for me!
ImUrDaddy: Aw baby don’t be a brat, I know there’s no-one there!
StepDadz129: Bitch!
You roll your eyes, clicking the mute button on the one comment before you hop down the bottom step. You check yourself out in the hall mirror for good measure, modest enough to answer the door but slutty enough to raise an eyebrow. You grin triumphantly and open the door wide, clinging to the edge of the door to greet them.
~*~
Dave
Rage courses through Dave’s veins as he sees the slew of abuse popping up on the chat the moment Luna disappears. He hates it when the entitled pricks come out to play.
His head snaps towards the basement stairs when he hears the sound of someone in the hall upstairs. Immediately Dave switches into work mode, ripping the desk drawer almost off the runners as he snatches up his pistol. He snaps in a mag and stuffs his achingly hard cock back into his pants.
He stalks back up the basement stairs, breathing slow, regulating his heartbeat as he prepares to face the intruder. He cracks the basement door open and sighs with relief as he quickly flicks the safety on his gun before stowing it in the back of his waistband.
It’s just you.
He thinks to himself as he eyes you from behind, the basement door has a perfect view to the front door, and more importantly your bare legs. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the silk robe hugging your curves so beautifully. He hears your flirtatious giggle and if he wasn’t already hard, he knows he would be just at the sound of it.
Get it together, that’s your stepdaughter.
He scolds himself internally, but thinking it only makes him ache more. Isn’t that exactly what he was just watching on OnlyFans? He shakes himself out of his dark thoughts just as you finish signing for the parcel.
“Thanks dude, have a great day!” You call to the delivery driver and Dave makes his exit hastily. He closes the door without a sound and creeps back down to the basement.
Only once he’s back in his chair, watching abusive comments piling up in the live chat does he let out the breath he’s been holding. He stows his gun once more and waits for Luna to return.
She steps back into view with her phone in hand, black robe with embroidered white cranes on the hem. She’s texting in earnest before throwing the phone back down on the bed. A notification comes through on Dave’s phone and if he wasn’t already joining the dots the confirmation makes him almost come in his pants. The text comes through, from you.
Hey Dave, package for you on the kitchen counter, can’t wait to see you later! Xx
His heart is in his throat, surely it has to be a coincidence, some fucked up twist of fate. That can’t be you? You can’t be Princess Luna, surely?
“Sorry Daddy, a parcel came for you, left it on the kitchen counter for you.”
Then he hears it clear as day, you alter your voice a little, maybe you use software, or are just that fucking good an actress. He honestly can’t tell.
But the moment the robe drops from Luna’s shoulders he just knows.
“It’s you.”  
~*~
“So where were we Daddy?”
You ask to the webcam, mask secured, and panties pulled to the side, aimed directly at the professional camera you have mounted on your desk. You pull your phone back up to check the messages once more.
A litany of abuse for leaving too soon from your lowest tier supporters, typical. You have to have thick skin in this line of work, so you just mute a few before a familiar username pops up. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, it’s your favourite customer. The faceless, voiceless patron of your works that simply pays your highest tier, tips often, and not once has he given you abuse.
DukeSilver09: Hey there hon, don’t listen to these pricks, you’re doing a great job for me Princess.
Your cheeks heat up at his kindness and for the first time, you’re not just getting off to your own fantasies.
“What’s your story then Duke Silver? Fan of Parks and Rec?”
DukeSilver09: Yeah, my stepdaughter recommended it to me for when I’m travelling.
Your brows furrow for a second, trying to remember if you’d recommended it to Dave, or if it was just some crazy coincidence.
“Good taste, you fuck her yet Duke?”
You feel your orgasm building as you work a third finger inside you, rubbing your clit frantically as you imagine it’s Dave on the other end of this conversation. God, you wish. All you’ve wanted since they got married last year was to get him in your bed.
A girl can dream.
DukeSilver09: Not yet, but I think I’m about to get lucky.
“Good for you Duke, fuck her like the good little girl she is.”
You’re vaguely aware of the other men in the chat, some loving this interaction between you, some jealous, some angry, but you don’t care. All you care about is this stranger bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
~*~
Dave
Unbeknownst to you, Dave is leaning against the wall opposite your bedroom, waiting, phone in hand as he continues to watch you. He has headphones in to make sure he can still hear you without alerting suspicion. Dave types out a reply instantly.
DukeSilver09: She’s no angel, trust me, I know she’s filthy. I see the way she fucks me with her eyes at dinner.
Dave watches as you convulse on the bed, fingers working into your wet pussy, the squelching almost audible through the door. But maybe that was just his imagination running wild.
“Oh fuck, yeah? Well make sure to make her pay for being such a slut, sounds like she deserves to be punished.”
He groans aloud at that, and you freeze on the screen, Dave curses under his breath as he clamps his mouth shut.
This was stupid, fuck get out of there.
“Daddy?”
Dave looks down at the screen and sees that the livestream is muted, the sound hadn’t come from his headphones. He looks up and watches in disbelief as you open the door, robe on, mask off. Looking at him with a knowing look that would make even the toughest man flinch.
But Dave’s no ordinary man.
~*~
You
Dave stands there for a moment, frozen in place, but his face is anything but shocked. His one eyebrow is cocked, his plump lips curved up into a smirk, making his cheek dimple.
“Hey there Princess, what’re you doing in there? Got a guy over? You know how your mom feels about you having the door shut if you have visitors.”
“Nope, no-one here but me, Da- Dave.” You falter, already the taboo falling too easily from your lips.
It can’t have been him? Surely not, this is just some fucking weird coincidence, right?
“Then you won’t mind if I come in? Check on those fairy lights?”
“I don’t think-!” You start but Dave has already crowded past you, you suddenly realise he’s only got sweatpants on, his body heat rolls off onto you as you take in the painfully obvious erection straining against his pants.
“Well, well, this is what you’ve been up to.”
Dave purrs, picking up the mask you were just wearing, turning it around in his deft fingertips as he looks at the livestream. He’s just out of camera-shot as he grins at you wickedly.
“Dave please, don’t tell mom.”
“About which bit?”
You give Dave a confused look, breathing becoming laboured as panic sets in.
“What do you mean?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper at this point, and you feel compelled to shut the door behind you.
“What don’t you want me to tell her?” He asks, one long stride and he’s got you backed against the door, his free hand circles your neck, gently, a promise more than a threat, “That you’re whoring yourself out to dirty old men online?”
“Dave please, I can-!”
“Or that you’ve been waiting for me to stuff you full of my fat cock until I spill my load inside you?”
Your brain short circuits as you realise it is him, there’s no doubt now, he’s been watching you for months.
Did he know it was me?
“Dave please, it was all for show, I promise.”
Dave clicks his tongue in disappointment, but his hand tightens around your throat as he uses his thumb to nudge your jaw to the side. He leans in, pressing his rock hard, aching dick against your bare stomach as he rubs his cheek against yours.
“You sure honey? Because I’d be mighty disappointed if that was the truth.”
You moan, the sound escaping you before you can even think to stop it, you roll your hips up against him and wrap your arms around his neck before turning to face him. Your noses press against one another as you look up through your lashes into his hooded, lust-drunk eyes.
“You mean it Daddy?” You breathe as you brush your lips against his, your whole body vibrating with arousal as his breath fans against your skin, foreheads pressed together as you try your hardest to hold back.
“‘Course sweetheart, how could I not? You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“But what about-?” You begin to protest, and whatever you were about to say is lost as Dave’s lips crash into yours.
His free hand drops the mask before pinning your hip to the door. His broad hand sears against your skin as he grinds down into you. You moan into his mouth, giving him access before he even asks, letting him lick into your mouth with a hunger you’ve never known from a partner.
He dominates you, claims your mouth in a ravenous need that has you whimpering as you spread your legs for him, hitching an ankle around his leg, pulling him in closer as you run your fingers through his hair. You tug firmly and the growl he makes almost has you coming right there and then.
“Dave the stream.” You pant as you both come up for air, but a darkness falls over his vision. You already know what he’s going to ask before he says a word.
“You got another mask I can borrow?”
Your stomach flutters as you realise what he’s suggesting. You’re about to fuck Dave for the first time, on live stream for fucks sake. Your viewers are going to fucking love it.
“Stay here.” You breathe against his lips, taking control for a second and your heart flutters as Dave’s eyebrow raises in amusement. You’re filing that reaction away for later.
You bend over, making sure to brush up against Dave’s rock-hard bulge as you do, and pick up your mask, re-seating it before heading back into view of the livestream. The sound of comments firing in the background makes your stomach flutter in anticipation. You rifle under your bed for your box of props.
“Here you go Daddy.” You purr as you prance back to the doorway.
“Fuck.” Dave rasps as he twitches in his pants. He puts the black and gold mask on, smirking down at you as you bite your lip at him.
“Follow my lead, yeah?”
“Sure baby, it’s your show.”
You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s an oddly intimate act and you almost regret doing it until you see the lazy smile spread across Dave’s lips.
You turn to go back to your stream and before you’re even back in shot you feel the sharp slap of Dave’s palm on your ass and you yelp. You look back with a playful look as you roll your eyes at him.
“Hey there Daddies,” You say with a soft, sing-song lilt to your voice, “Sorry about that, I almost got busted! Daddy came home and I had to pretend to be a good little girl.”
You chuckle giddily as you watch the comments flood back in, all positive, begging for you to continue.
The violent banging on your door startles you and you yelp.
“Luna what the fuck are you doing in there?” Dave roars, loud enough for your viewers to hear and the comments go absolutely wild.
“I’m not dressed please don’t come in!” You feign as much panic as you can, pretending to fumble with the computer controls.
“You got a boy in there? I’ll fucking kill him.” Dave roars as he rips the door open. You stand up and clutch your discarded robe against your chest.
“Please, it’s not what it looks like, please don’t tell mom.” You mimic your terrified tone from earlier but both of you now know it’s just an act.
“What the fuck?”
Dave steps into view and you all but whimper as you see the murderous look in his dark eyes. He looks from you to the computer, and back again. His chest heaves and you take a step back, you’re not sure if you planned to or not but the intensity is more than you expected.
“Please, let’s just talk about this.”  
You plead as he crosses the short distance to grab you by the throat, harder than before and you audibly gasp as he takes off his mask. You watch as his eyes scan the stream, making sure he’s only visible from the neck down.
“You wear these fancy masks to hide your whoring from the world huh? Give me one, I’m not about to get caught fucking you on some sick little porno site.”
You make a show of turning to the camera, lace-covered breasts front and centre as you pretend to grab something from the shelf behind. You turn and tilt up onto your tiptoes to replace the mask on Dave’s face. You pout a little. As much as you know it’s necessary, you want to see him, all of him, when he fucks you.
“Good girl, now,” He growls, shoving past you to sit on the end of the bed, “Convince me not to tell your mom, show me if you’re good enough to keep a secret for.”
He’s a fucking natural, lined up perfectly in shot so that you can sink onto your knees in front of him. The notifications are going wild, the cheesy sound bite of a cash register opening and closing as your fans tip you firing faster than you’ve ever known.
“What if it’s too big, Daddy?”
“You’ll make it fit Princess, I know you will.”
You nod slowly and peel down the waistband of his pants and gasp at the sight of him. He’s uncut, thick, and a nice size. A Goldilocks dick, not too big, not too small. You salivate at the sight of him and look up to see his hungry gaze locked on you.
You pull his foreskin back gently and mewl at the sight of his pre-come smeared over his angry red tip. You lap gently at the mess and hum at the salty, bitter taste of his come.
“Good fucking girl, knew you’d be good at sucking dick, bet you’ve had hundreds of cocks stuffed down your throat.”
“Nuh-uh,” You say loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “Only you Daddy.” His dick twitches wildly at that and he looks down at you in shock, you see the real fear of this being your first-time flash behind his eyes and you subtly shake your head. He narrows his eyes and nods imperceptibly in understanding.
“Fuck, been saving yourself for me Princess?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
You punctuate it with a short, wet suck of his exposed tip and he groans, fisting one hand in your hair, shifting slightly on the bed angling it so that the stream can just see your profile as you suckle on his tip.
“See fellas, this is what you get when you’re nice to her.”
You whimper and feel the slick dripping down your legs as you sink lower onto Dave’s gorgeous cock. It’s so smooth, his foreskin making it a dream to sink down onto. He hisses as your lips and nose press into his pubic hair.
“Good fucking girl.” His voice is ragged, and you look up to see his plush lips parted, veins in his neck bulging. You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out as you flick your tongue against his head every time you come back up his shaft.
“She’s got such a fucking pretty little mouth, don’t you think?”
He shifts on the bed again until he’s standing, you have to sit up on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His face is out of shot, and he looks down at you with care in his eyes. He mouths down a “You ok?” At you and you smile, nodding as you take him deep.
“Shit, look at you.”
Dave’s Hand in your hair becomes possessive as he rolls his hips slowly into your mouth, you gag a little and tears spill from your eyes as you try your hardest to keep it together.
“Doing so well for me baby, making Daddy feel so good.”
You whine at the praise and his willingness to call himself daddy. He lets you take his cock for a little longer before he rips you off with a snarl.
“Need to fill that little pussy up, c’mere.”
Dave pulls you up into his arms and kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on you with a moan as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sits down on the edge of the bed once more before turning you in his lap, his cock sliding between your clothed folds as he holds your back flush against his chest. One hand is wrapped around your throat as his other trails down your body to your soaked panties.
“You been saving this for me too?”
He slowly peels them away to the side, exposing your wet heat. You arch your back as he glides two thick fingers through your folds. It feels so much better than you could have imagined. His calloused pads rake through you, teasing at your hole before gliding back up to your clit, rubbing slow, intense circles around your swollen bud.
“Yes Daddy, want you to be the only one, want you inside me. Daddy, please?”
You squirm in his lap, rocking your hips so you coat his length with your slick as it glides through your lips.
“Slow down baby, not going to last if you keep doing that.” He whispers in your ear, chuckling slightly as he nips a warning into your neck. You hum and slow down, but you don’t stop.
“Please Daddy, can’t wait any more, need you.”
It’s only half an act. You’ve dreamt of this for months, desperate to have him. You watch how your mother spurns him, how she hides her phone when he’s around. You know she’s not being good to him.
“As you asked so nicely.”
You’re caught off guard as he notches himself at your core and with one hand on your hip, the other tight around your throat, he drags you down onto his cock.
You cry out in ecstasy as you feel every inch of him pressing into you, every ridge and vein as he forces you down to the base. You’re grateful that you worked yourself open with three fingers earlier or this would have been way too much.
“Look at that baby,” Dave hums against your skin, looking into the camera over your shoulder as he tilts your head down to look at the screen, “Look at how pretty you look all stretched out on my cock.”
You pant heavily as you get used to his girth, it’s blinding. You’ve never had someone fill you just right like this, like you were made to be split open by him. You whine impatiently and a hard slap comes down on your right ass cheek. Dave’s cock twitches up into you as you yelp and mewl at the painful pleasure rocking through you.
“Naughty girl, so eager to get fucked, what would your mother say if she could see you like this?”
Dave taunts you as he moves both hands to your hips, pulling you further back into the bed so he can brace his feet on the sheets, holding you up for the camera to see you suspended above him. You know it’s for show, you know it’s all a fantasy, but in that moment, you lose yourself to Dave.
“Touch yourself baby, need you to milk this fat dick until you’re full of me, y’hear me?”
“Yes Daddy, want you to fill me up, fuck your cum deep into me.”
“Good fucking girl.”
Dave snaps up into you without warning, his pace brutal as he fucks you just right, kissing your g-spot with the head of his cock as you swirl your fingers aggressively around your clit. You feel your release building like a crescendo. The symphony of Dave’s hungry, aggressive grunting as he fucks you harder and harder with every thrust; and the staccato of desperate moans that escape your lips are all you can think about.
You’re about to come as Dave pushes you forward onto your hands and knees, he fuses his hips to yours, not letting you go for a single second as he pushes your head down onto the edge of the bed.
“Fuck yeah, let them see you, how fucking drunk you are on my cock, dirty little slut.”
“Fuck yes, Daddy, fuck me deep, fill me up with your come Daddy.”
The words fall from your lips without prompt or encouragement, you’re coming so hard you can’t keep your eyes open any more, your legs tremble and your arms feel like lead as pleasure rocks through you like no other orgasm you can remember.
Dave keeps fucking you as you whimper and shake from exertion and overstimulation. You let him use you, let him fuck down into you with such force you swear you’ll feel him for weeks. But you don’t care, pleasure ebbs through you like a heartbeat, stopping only as Dave’s hips snap into you one last time as you hear him groan in your ear. He falls against your back, holding you close to him as he releases inside you, pinning you to him as he pants and whines in your ear.
“Such a good fucking girl.” He rubs his nose along the column of your neck and suckles your earlobe into his mouth.
“All for you Daddy.”
You eventually ease off of his lap and turn the stream off without your usual sign-off. You don’t give a single shit about your viewers right now, all you can think about is Dave and the blissed-out look on his face as he watches you, propped up against your headboard.
“So, that was something else.”
You say with a giggle and the smile that spreads across his face has butterflies exploding in your chest. The love, the affection there is something more than just some kinky fantasy.
“Yeah,” He wheezes as he rocks up onto his feet and scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”
His whole demeanour has changed, gone is the dominant Dave who just fucked you within an inch of your life, right here the Dave you know so well. Caring, soft, yet still so fucking hot.
“Ok.” You mumble into his chest as you flop against him.
~*~
Hours later and your mom still isn’t home, Dave still hasn’t left your bed.
“We don’t have to do this again y’know.”
You eventually say what you’ve been trying to bring up for hours. You’re snuggled into Dave’s chest, under your freshly made sheets, watching some shit on Netflix. He sits up immediately, pulling you up to sit next to him.
“Is that what you want?”
There’s a vulnerability on Dave’s face that makes your heart clench, a myriad of emotions floods through your system. You dip your head, avoiding those soft brown eyes that you adore.
“No, I just, you’re married to my mom.”
Dave’s calloused hand cups your cheek tilting your head up to look at him.
“And where do you think she is tonight? Where she’s been the last six weekends in a row?”
Dave’s eyes are deadly serious, there’s an edge to his tone that arouses you, it’s possessive, frustrated, but most of all passionate.
“Do you want to keep, uh, seeing each other?” You ask as your eyes drop to his lips and you can’t imagine not kissing them again, not feeling them on your skin.
“Yes.”
Dave’s answer shocks you, not for his admission but for how firmly he says it, how much passion and surety he can pack into a single syllable.
“Good.”
You respond in turn before pulling Dave down on top of you, crashing his lips into yours as his hips slot between yours like you were made for one another.
What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.
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ncis-nerd · 1 month
Text
Austin (Part 3)
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort
Link to masterpost
About: Wanda finally arrives to the hospital. Is y/n okay? Where's Nat? Will y/n be mad that Wanda is there?
As the driver approached the curb, wanda sprinted out. She hurried to the hospital room, her eyes scanned the from for the spy. A young boy, all alone. A woman with a baby. Where is nat??
Wanda goes up to the reception desk and asked the old lady with glasses if she had seen Nat. The lady said "she asked where the bathroom was. She might be in there, dear." The woman pointed in the direction of the bathroom.
Wanda rushed to the door. She opened the door and was greeted with the sight of the spy, her eyes bloodshot red, probably from crying. Her hands shaking, and splashing water on her face. Wanda sighed in relief "Nat" wanda said softly, approaching her. She stood behind nat and layer her hands on top her shoulder. "Honey, look at me." Nat turned around, "w-wanda" she choked out, sobbing into Wanda's chest. Wanda stroked her hair gently. "It's okay, detka. I'm here. Let it all out." 
Once Nat had calmed down, they went back to the waiting room. Nat's head leaning against Wanda's shoulder. Wanda's hands intertwined with nat's hands and stroking them. Nat let out quiet breaths. On the verge of falling asleep.
Wanda wasn't sure if Nat was asleep or not but she didn't care, as long as the green-eyed spy was okay, that's all that mattered. No one would hurt her, and Wanda made some phone calls while on the car. Set plans in motion concerning whom harmed y/n. Wanda cares deeply about the both, but she knows she could never act on these. She dreams of sharing these intimate moments between the two but she wouldn't want to intrude.
"family of y/n l/n?" a voice broke the silence. Nat rose immediately, "That's us, can we see her? Is she okay?" Nat spoke. Wanda noticed Nat said us, and not just her. Including Wanda as a part of the family but she didn't want to say anything. Nat probably said it by accident.
Wanda held onto Nat's hand, to show support. Nat gasped when she saw y/n hooked up to all those wires. "b-baby" Nat whispered, going up to y/n and dropping Wanda's hand. Wanda was also in shock, of how beat up y/n was, all those cuts and bruises all over her delicate face. But she kept her emotions hidden, to keep it together for Nat. Nat trusted her to come and she didn't want to break that trust. Y/n was still unconscious, Wanda looked around Nat who was kneeling on the floor and holding onto y/n's hand, whispering sweet nothings. "I'm so glad you're okay, my love. I don't know I'd do if you weren't. I missed you so much baby." Nat spoke. Y/n groaned softly and grasped Nat's hand. Nat looked up and started to cry.
"Mmfpm." Y/n groaned, reaching for Nat to come and snuggle with her. Nat leaped up onto the bed and laid her head against y/n's neck. "n-natty" y/n whispered. "yes detka?" nat looked up at y/n. "want wans too" glancing at the red-head standing there awkwardly. Wanda looked at the two, wide-eyed. Y/n wants her? "come over here silly." Nat said.
A/N: like, reblog and comment for the next part! It's finally getting to the good part >.<
also i did not re-read this before posting so apologies if it is unclear at some parts
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kyeomsense · 5 months
Text
how svt hyung line breaks your heart
i’ve been wanting to do something more angst-heavy for a while and i think 2 am is the perfect time to do that <3 enjoy!
svt x gn!reader, angst
wc: ~1k
seungcheol
he breaks it off after a long battle with himself. he still loves you and hopes that you can forgive him, but he ultimately knows that it’s for the best.
the two of you have different values and wants out of life. maybe it’s not that you can’t be together at all, but it’s that you can’t be together right now. he knows that, and he knows that he loves you and you love him. but he can’t let this relationship tear you apart any longer.
so, he leaves. he’s firm on his decision. he tells you he wants to break up with a stern expression on his face. when you beg him to stay, he only insists on leaving, because if he stays any longer he knows he’ll break down.
jeonghan
he lets you down easy when it happens. when you ask him why, he just says it’s not you, but him that is the problem. he’s not ready for commitment. he’s not ready for the serious talks about marriage. he’s not ready for anything truly impactful.
he’s not even surprised when you get angry. he knows you’ve put your entire being into the relationship, and that’s exactly why he doesn’t feel comfortable staying in it.
a part of it may be that he doesn’t know how to feel. he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. all he knows is that when he looks at you, an unknown, honey-like feeling simmers in his stomach and it terrifies him.
joshua
he tries his best to be nice about it, but his words still hurt. behind his sweet, affectionate gaze and upturned lips is a man who you realize you don’t even know anymore.
maybe you’ve changed. maybe he has, too. neither of you know. what joshua knows at least is that whatever spark he felt for you has long since faded and been replaced with a thin layer of resentment.
he’s fallen out of love with you, and he decides it’s best for him to end things earlier rather than later. even as you attempt to ask him why or how you can fix things, he simply tells you the truth. he’ll always love you, but he’s not in love with you anymore, and nothing can change that.
jun
he’s not even sure how things ended up this way. he’s not even sure why he agreed to start dating you. perhaps it was the fact that he has trouble saying no to people, or the fact that he didn’t want to look like an asshole in front of all your friends.
but now he’s six months in. things were fine in the beginning, when the honeymoon phase and excitement of having a significant other fueled his affectionate gestures. now, everything feels fake and empty. he tells you he loves you, but he feels deep down that he barely knows you.
he brings it up while you two are on a date. he can’t do it anymore. he can’t do this anymore. the fake smiles and strained laughter. he just can’t. he leaves you crying at the table and calls you an uber before he leaves.
soonyoung
he can’t blame you. he can only blame himself. when he first started feeling things towards someone else, he knew that he should cut them off and refocus his attention on you. instead, he fed into the flirting with passionate touches and intimate texts.
he hates himself for doing that to you. it’s not fair at all. while you were waiting for him at home with a hot plate of pasta, he was locking lips with his hot duet partner. it eats at him each night when he greets you with a kiss, one that still tastes like his lover’s strawberry chapstick.
it explodes at dinner one night. while you expect him to propose, he bows his head in shame and tells you everything. he can only accept what he’s done and begin packing his things, tears rolling down his cheeks as he hears you sobbing even through the lit tv chatter.
wonwoo
the two of you aren’t strangers, but it definitely feels like it. from missed texts and calls to not even greeting each other, it feels like there’s a solid wall dividing the two of you, one that wonwoo builds higher the longer you date.
you feel the break up coming even before it happens, but that doesn’t mean you don’t do everything in your power to prevent it. but even through your warm hugs and shining smiles, you can only feel the icy loneliness that wonwoo offers you in return. you don’t give up hope, but he crushes it.
during the breakup, he’s straightforward. he tells you he wants to break it off and watches as you start crying. he simply stands and sighs calmly before leaving. he’s gone before you can even ask why.
jihoon
you know work comes first. it always does, especially when it comes to jihoon. at first, you’re okay with it, but as you find yourself in a year long relationship, you can’t help but feel a bit of neglect.
jihoon realizes it, too. he knows that his work is time-consuming and mentally taxing. he knows he should probably text you he’s going to be working late tonight and that you should eat dinner alone. but for some reason, he doesn’t. he can’t. because he doesn’t want to do this to you anymore.
you pick up after the first ring and greet him with an excited chirp. the bright smile plastered on your face quickly disappears as you listen to jihoon’s words. he barely waits for a response before he cuts the line. when you try and call him back, he doesn’t pick up.
a/n: have fun with this one <3
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