#those million of lashes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaasfairy · 6 months

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┌─ “ ! „ SPARKSTONE

tw. blood kink, noncon, pain play, lashing/whipping, toji’s foul n mean, degradation, prostitution, daddy kink, kinda size kink as always w me heheghe wordcount. 4.6k

a/n. thank you a million to the loveliest friends who always keep me goin when i'm having a hard timEEE rhi, wil and dymmiEE thanK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR betaing ily so much ♡ i hope i did the big man justice he is so yucky n i love it,, also extra shOutout n love dym bc she gave me the vision i saw i came i had to have it so !! iLY ILY ILY

fushiguro toji x fem!reader

If you know one thing from your years hiding in the shadows of the more powerful, it’s that danger has a taste. It sticks to your skin, longing for an opening. And tightens around your organs as you swallow it down, setting your hairs on end. Instinctually, humans know danger when they sense it, and by that same measure, they’re usually smart enough to hide before they get found. You might be simple prey in the eyes of the strong, but you hate the feeling deeply, and avoid it where you can.

You’re always aware of eyes that trail you, and you can smell it in the air.

The burgundy walls and nice chandelier bloom like a flower when it gets dark out. It fits the business. Like moths to a flame, that warmth lures men with a promise of a warm body and expert secrecy, and usually that’s plenty. Luckily for you, most of them leave before their wives start to wonder, which means you don’t have to deal with the drunk and impatient by the time you come in for a shift by early morning. Your days are easy, if you pretend you don’t know what types of people stumble home from their rooms in the seedier back of the building. Smelling of booze and body fluids and most of all, sex. That’s how it is.

Sorcerers are people too, by your cousin’s words. He’s not wrong. By the types of people that come in and out of the doors day and night, he made a smart investment starting this place a few years ago, and you’re grateful to get to work here. There’s no place for small-fry cursed energy users out in the daylight— and you’re not exactly dying to lay your life down for others in the first place. It’s this, or even less savory jobs for those people like you, who see things that others don’t. You’re more than happy with a simple life sitting behind the front desk, and going home to crash before the grosser individuals have a chance to harass you.

Which is why your skin itches a bit when the soft cling of the bell sounds so late it’s early. You’ve barely had enough time to open the doors. For not the first time, there’s a soft buzz of a warning sign that greets you as you sigh. Isn’t 5 in the morning a little early for even the more degenerate types? You get up to hang your jacket in the back room as you hear heavy steps make it into the foyer, and swallow. The slight pulling of cold under your skin has your lips pressed tight, swallowing. They don’t ring the bell, don’t yell or break things, don’t even talk. But they also don’t turn to leave.

So you smooth your hands down your pants, and eventually walk back to your spot behind the counter. It’s still dark out, still has the uncomfortable pressure that lingers as you cast a quick glance around the room.

And all you see is eyes that pull a cold shiver up your spine so quick it freezes you in place. The dark figure is splayed out with his arms over one of the couches, but those sharp eyes don’t move an inch from you when you meet them. Narrowed in their cold, metal blue darkness, and all-consuming. The man is not young, not old - but definitely older than you, scarred and quiet, and you can’t help it- when that foul, dangerous taste wells up in your mouth in the form of saliva.

After only a few seconds, you grab the phone and ring a number one, taking it off the horn for your own safety. It rings as the man gets up with a sigh and walks towards you, only leaving the space of the desk between you two. There's a soft mumble on the other side of the call, but because the horn is pressed to your desk, you can’t make out exactly what’s said before the customer - you assume he’s a customer, judging by the foul sort of stench of death that follows him around - clears his voice.

Only a sorcerer can have that sort of smell, and no sorcerer would enter here if not out for one thing. You don’t normally do intake, you realize as your hand trembles just slightly. You leave the horn of the phone for a pen instead, and try to rid your throat of the thick block that pushes on your windpipe. “Welcome. How can I help you?”

The man’s hair is messy, lazy, much like his clothing is; and he takes a moment to look around before his eyes flick to the stack of notes before you, the phone, and then you again. “Ah, uhm. Are there rooms open this late? Or early, I guess.” He ends up saying, a bored sort of lilt to his deep voice. You can’t even meet his eyes, but you can feel the painfully intense stare that doesn’t move from you again as you put on your best smile.

“There- should be, yes. Hmm, let’s see. Do you have a preferred girl you’d like to see here today?” Your hand only stops shaking when you press the tip of the pen to paper, if only to give your hand something to do as you quickly flick between the pages of the book.

“Not really.” He runs his hand under his nose, before leaning both forearms onto the desk and invading your space too much. You barely resist the urge to jerk back entirely, and feel the heat travel between you two. See, you were never able to fight curses. But you did always have a good nose, and his presence is like maggots crawling around under your skin. It’s unbearable. Your lids flutter as you stop flicking, and just focus on not throwing up entirely. Every part of him stinks of rot, oozing danger enough to suffocate you.

You simply pick one of the names at random, and start digging through the shelf for the correct key as fast as you can. Your heart hammers in your chest like that of a hummingbird, and is almost loud enough to keep you from hearing him when he speaks again. You can’t quite bear to meet his gaze, but one look up at his mouth reveals a tiny sort of curl to his lips that’s just as upsetting as the stench that swirls around the room. Everything feels wrong, and you want to stop yourself from hurling your guts out over the table. The man taps his finger on the counter a few times. “Are you new?”

Your head shakes faster than you can think about the answer. It wouldn’t be of any use lying anyway. For some reason, you feel like he’d be able to see right through you. When you finally find the right key, you feel like a weight lifts from your chest, and you slide it across the stone towards him. “I always work the morning shift, I don’t do nights.”

“Hm.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Only when you slide the paper form across the table too, do you notice the call has disconnected - you’re not sure for how long - and you manage to force your eyes up to face him for just long enough not to seem impolite. But your blood still feels uncomfortable and itchy, even when he slowly picks up the pen and starts writing his name down at the top of the form. After a few seconds, he clicks the pen to his chin, and looks down at you with a coy smile as he straightens up. “Actually, what about you? You’re a skittish, little thing, and I have a bit of a hunger for something light and fresh today— I had the longest night ever.”

His scar pulls when the smile gets a bit more predatory, and you feel pinned in place like an insect under a magnifying glass when he aims the pen at you. “Looks like you’re a good listener, sweet girl.”

“I- I-” you start, stepping back until your back hits the wall and even then, there’s not nearly enough space between you and him, “I just work as a receptionist. I don’t do-” You might puke after all. Those eyes only seem to get wider when your bottom lip wobbles, and you feel the sick sense of glee he gets rather than see it. You don’t think -no, you know- you couldn’t take him in a fight, but still your fists ball up tight.

The lift dings though, to your relief, and a familiar face rushes out to give you an up and down. Your cousin’s got a bed head, deep grooves under his eyes as he jogs up beside you. “What the hell, you’re fine! When you didn’t respond on the phone I thought something might’ve happened to you.” You can’t say anything back, but you’re so glad to see him your mouth drops open and a little whimper comes out of your throat despite yourself. The young man frowns, before glancing to his side and - pauses. You can’t exactly place the expression he gets, but he must feel what you’re still feeling laced in the air, because he blinks a few times before taking a step back. “What’s this?”

“I was just telling him I’m- o-only a front desk worker,” you start, shuffling uncomfortably when those steely eyes find your body, giving you an awfully unsubtle once over. Pig. He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he’s undressing you with his eyes. Your cousin thankfully hums in agreement, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So-”

The brazen noiret doesn’t hesitate to nod though. And the confident tone from earlier doesn’t waver a bit. It’s like he’s barely inconvenienced by your statement at all. Like you’re playing hard to get. You’re not. "That's fine by me. But I’m going to be the exception.” Under his sloppy clothing, there’s no doubt he’s fit. He’s tall, and obviously wired with thick muscle that makes his shirt cling to his biceps, even more when he crosses over the furniture to reach a hand out to you, and make your shivers so much worse. “Come, little deer. I’m gonna have some fun with you.”

Your cousin places a hand on the other man’s shoulder though. “She’s not that kind of employee, sir. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, or else-”

“Or else what?” You swear you can feel a pin drop when his eyes finally move away from you, now at the other man. Your heart still beats wildly. “How about this, huh. You let me play with your little friend here, and I’ll decide not to kill you, her and then everyone in here for making my long night even longer.” He doesn’t even have to straighten up for you to feel like he means it. Even without flashing a weapon, or pulling out some fancy cursed technique, do you feel the increase in thick waves of tension; drowning you in that same, rotting stench of incoming disaster. You can’t ignore it, can’t do anything but gasp shallow, little breaths when he does round on your family, squaring up to him.

Though they’re both about as tall, the stranger’s built like a brick wall. He must know that, because he laughs. “I’ll be very nice to her, don’t worry.” His eyes tell everyone daring to take a peek that he doesn’t mean it, but at least you don’t flinch when he looks at you this time. Ah, that’s right. You really do hate sorcerers. The black haired man walks past to come grab your arm, and tosses the key you provided him earlier high into the air before catching it. It instantly is too tight, and hurts. You plant your heels into the floor, hang back with your whole body. You want to scream. Your other hand claws at his strong palm -wrung like a vice around your wrist- and you start to whimper.

“N-wait, let me go. I don’t work here like that, I- leave me alone, let me go!” You get pulled along anyway, like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum; he yanks you with barely any effort and sends you stumbling behind him. “No, I don’t want- aniki! Aniki, tell him- I’m not- I’m not for sale.” Hair whips around as you try to plead with the man left standing in the lobby, but though he looks guilt-stricken and apologetic, he doesn’t move from his spot. You don’t have a say in the way the man dressed in all black drags you behind, even when you try to make yourself dead weight and stop him. “No, no, no, wait, please! Kou aniki! Kou~ help me!”

You get it.

“Let me go! Let me go, pl-please! Hck.” Your voice breaks when wetness spills down to your hot cheeks. Really, you do get it. But the lamb still spooks when presented with the gun, even if it doesn’t run.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed as tears run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.

You can’t imagine it makes for a very appealing sight, but whether it’s indifference or sexual gratification, it’s clear your grief doesn’t matter to him. Toji, he said his name is, but you only know that ‘so you can cry it later’. It makes you sick - the sight of him makes you want to dig your nails into your own palms until you bleed. This is how it is for the weak everywhere, right? Sit and wait to die. As the cold embraces your body again, you sniffle, but wipe the tears away. You’re not a fan of waiting.

If he’s going to do it, better do it quick. Before you decide to start biting anyway. The dim lighting of the reddish room doesn’t do anything to warm the mood except make you even more aware of him as he kicks off sandals, slowly, demanding attention. He stares you down like a predator keeps an eye on his prey. The scent is still suffocating, but there’s a more alarming feeling blanketing your senses now. You’re scared. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s in the goosebumps on your skin as he walks closer, and you scoot back onto the soft mattress to avert your eyes to yourself.

You’d rather go out kicking and screaming- but with your fear ran so high, you settle for the second best thing. “So, you’re not going to kill everyone, but just me, huh?” He’s taking off his belt as you ball your hands in the fabric, and force yourself to watch him under heavy lashes, with as much hatred as you can. “You like that? Scaring girls half your size?” You’re not sure either why you’re running your mouth. It must be the high of incoming death. “Does that make you feel powerful?” He doesn’t even pause, and pulls his shirt over his head to drop it aside too, then licks his lips.

After a slight moment of silence, he just shrugs. “Yeah. It does.” You scramble back until you reach the head of the bed, and pull your knees to your body. And the man crawls closer anyway, reaching to grab one of your ankles and drag you back. You don’t know why you’re struggling. It’d be easier if you laid down and died. As if reading your mind, he chuckles as he yanks you down until you’re spread out on your back, and pins you in place beneath his heavy body. “Don’t be so frightened. I’m not actually going to kill you.” He pushes over you, and makes sure you’re nose to nose when he talks next, basically drooling as you try to escape from him. “Just going to hurt you pretty bad. Don’t you like that?”

You struggle against him, but it’s not enough. He ties your hands to the bed painfully tight, letting the frayed edge of the rope burn into your skin each time you move- and proceeds to cut your clothes off with the knife that was hidden in his waistband. The torturous pace at which he does everything is almost worse, setting your entire body on end with anticipation. You thrash against him as he places a thigh either side of your body, and grabs your face in a large, rough hand. Once again you feel reminded that you’re really nothing in the face of someone more powerful. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying, and hurtful, and a migraine starts gnawing at your head as you glare up at him. And he almost pouts at you in mockery. “It’s cute that you’re trying so hard. You can cry, you know?” He leans in to lick along the shell of your ear down to your neck. “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Why deny yourself?”

The hot touch of his tongue sears into your skin like it’s poison. You try to pull your wrists loose again, to no avail. The skin just feels achy and burning. “That’s really what you want to do, right? Cry for mommy and daddy to save you?” When he pushes back up to your mouth, laying his filthy lips on you again, you’re quicker than you think - and actually manage to bite him. It’s not enough to cause much damage before he jerks back, clenching one hand over your mouth to shut you up. But he runs a thumb along his bottom lip, and slowly starts grinning. Blood glitters on that finger before he licks it away, and raises his dark eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you brave…”

Before you have time to prepare yourself, that heavy palm meets your cheek, stinging it all over and rushing blood to the surface — it’s hard enough to pull real tears out of you, and your nose to start running as you bury your face into your arm. The sting spreads under the surface like fire. The low chuckle he lets out is mean and predatory, definitely when he takes that as an opening to start groping you through your bra, and soon that’s shoved up too to let him pet all over you. “Good. I don’t have to feel bad about all this, then.”

“Mh- hck-,” you whimper, trying to ignore the painful tugs he gives your nipples, pinching you. It still sends heat to your belly, and somehow that’s the most embarrassing thing of all. You hate him. More than anyone. “I-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. I won’t believe you anyway.” He quickly whispers back, leaning in to force his mouth to yours and kiss you, tongue pushing against your teeth until you give in. He tastes like blood. His own, from the cut that’s not yet closed up; and he kisses like he’s trying to consume you. Rough hands knead and toy with your tits until you start squirming, before they glide down and make enough space to peel your panties down your thighs torturously slow. “Ahh, you look good like this. So pretty. Stay there.” He chuckles to himself as he gets up and you whine, not for him, but more his dragging it out. It’s not like you have a choice about staying…

When he comes back to you, something cold makes you jerk your eyes open. It’s something long and capped metal at the end, not sharp enough to stab you clean through— but it’s still hard and sharp and anxiety has you freezing below him. “Wh- what, what are you-” Would anyone even come help if you screamed?

Toji slaps the thing into his palm a few times, before those mean eyes glide over you, and you find yourself crossing your legs tight to protect your most sensitive areas instinctively. The sound of the metal whipping through the air is more than enough to put fear into you. Your lip trembles when he gets back onto the bed, and mirth plays in his eyes. “This is going to hurt.” Then he whips his hand down and instantly, your eyes shoot open with pain. Blood splatters as he cuts you open, each impact leaving a cut and nasty thumping that will make a bruise, telltale sign of a cursed tool.

“Ack- no, no- please stop! Stop, stop, please! Please, it hurts! It hurts!” Your eyes clench shut, but tears well up and come out anyway, making tracks down your cheeks. It stings so bad, and after even just a few lashings, you can’t stand it. Everything’s glowing and burning, hot all over as your knees knock together. Another whip has you trying to pull your arms out harder, to no avail. You don’t want to look, but the pain in your hands tells you that the heat running down your arm must be blood. Didn’t he say he wasn’t going to kill you? “Please, please, Toji. I’ll do anything! Anything, please- j-just no more.”

“I refuse.”

“Please~” you sob, only opening your eyes to see how he stands bent over you with his tongue caught between his teeth, head tilted in curiosity like a dog. The whip is dripping red, hot blood down onto his hands, and though it seems impossible to have so much blood coating everything- it’s yours, right? He stays quiet for a moment or two, and the thick tears wobble over your vision. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please. Please. I’m -” your throat closes up when he leans his heavy weight down over you and hovers his lips over your mouth, “I’m beg-begging you.” One hand comes up to grab your face, and he buries his nose into your throat, where a wet tongue starts swiping along your skin.

The soft groan he lets out is foul, coming back up with his mouth full of your blood, and he grins. “Keep going. Beg like a good girl~” Then he dips down, forcing his tongue and the coppery, familiar taste into your mouth, melting his lips to yours as he hums. His strong chest meets your naked, pitiful form as one hand comes down to yank your leg up around him, and the kissing gets more distracting, warmer, deeper — you want him to stay just like this. “Keep talking,” he whispers again, lower this time, and when you’re opening your eyes his stained hands are back to kneading your tits. “You’re sort of cute covered like this, whining like a baby. C’mon.”

Red’s covering everything. Every cut on your body is searing and tight and painful, and he’s pushing his thumbs along the closing wounds as if he’s trying to leak every last drop out of you; but you can’t really feel it. It must be adrenaline you feel coursing through your veins like a drug, goading your heart into pumping so hard you can see it bounce through the skin. “Pl-please.” Your chest rattles, as he watches you. As he degrades you, lifting both your legs up to your chest to spread you for him. “Please, Toji. Please f-fuck me instead. I w- need you to.” He takes the knife used to cut off your clothes, and ever so slowly drags it along the supple inside of your thighs.

And though you jerk, and your jaw clenches while tears fall, you can’t help it. You’re shaking your head, but your pussy clenches around nothing. “Please, please, need you. I’m sorry, I want- I want it. I wan’it… daddy.” Despite the short inhale he takes, sharp eyes pinning you beneath him like the crying mess you are, it’s not his reaction that has you blushing, heat filling your entire face with that cottony feeling. You’re so fucking weak. It’s pathetic.

“Hah,” he snorts when watching you wiggle and cry, presenting your wet, little hole to him, “whiny brat.” His hand lands onto your pussy and it makes you jerk again, squirming against his strong grip, before he turns his palm to grind into your clit and his fingers teasing into the soft folds. The wet squelching doesn’t stop the stinging tingling down your entire body, but - it’s also so unfair. You can feel yourself drip as his thick fingers slide in and out of you again and again, pushing into your plush walls just right. “Call out for daddy, go on.” You don’t want to know how much of it is blood, or how much is your own body betraying you.

You don’t see when he takes off his boxers, now finally as naked as you are - but you do see it when he starts rubbing the head of his heavy cock over your slicked up slit, catching your clit every once in a while. He cocks one brow at you at your silence, and softly hums a deep, raspy breath. You really are weak. “Daddy, daddy, please- pl-hck- please put it in, I’m losing my mind.”

“Seems like it,” he mumbles back, a cocky grin reappearing right before he grabs himself by the base and leads his fat cock inside you with no further warning. He’s too big as soon as he shoves himself inside halfway, grabbing your hair as you wiggle against him. The other half is forced deeper as his cock bumps your walls, makes your pussy drool and clench, and your mouth hangs open as you try to keep from screaming. Your back lifts off the bed a few times, legs opening wider to make room for his thick thighs as he bottoms out and stretches you too thin. “That’s a nice noise.” He’s laughing.

You can’t relate. Your entire body feels wound too tight, legs locking around his glutes in the naïve hope for some reprieve— before he pulls back and holds himself above you. Scared pecs and arms flex when he pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in too deep and have you choking on it. It’s hitting so deep it leaves you speechless. “Make it again,” he gloats as he chuckles into your face, before kissing you again, and this time he bites your lip, hard enough to taste copper. Oh, fuck. You cling onto the ropes for dear life with your numb fingers, and try to wrap your legs back around him with a choked whimper; but you can’t.

You’re shaking, and your pussy’s clenching and sucking around him hard each time his hips meet yours and heavy balls smack against your ass. You feel like he’s going to fuck you through the wall. Drool’s mixed with the blood you swallow, letting his tongue melt to yours, and make you even more needy for air. Each pump inside you gushes more slick out of your cunt, lewd noises and ‘pap’s filling the room along with his grunts. And you only pull away to gasp, and get pulled down onto him again and again. “Daddy, daddy, I’m- gonna- cum.”

And he plants a hand on your throat to squeeze until your eyes cross, free hand going to hold your shivering thighs in place as he buries his cock deep into your plush walls. “Dumb, dumb girl- I don’t need- ugh- you to tell me that.” You’re folded double entirely as he keeps the rhythm entirely ruthless, and your belly starts tightening under your body jerks shut around him, crying out. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and your breathing’s so shallow and confused you’re lightheaded. Your toes curl so hard you feel like you’ll pass out, but Toji doesn’t stop. Not even when hot ropes of cum fill the heat of your spasming pussy up and spill out— he doesn’t even slow.

#kinktober #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw.dark content #tw.lashing #tw.noncon #tw.blood #tw.marking #tw.daddy kink

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devildomwriter · 21 days

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Why Lucifer is A Good Brother

*Somewhat chronologically in order everything is canon and if you want the reference I’ll give it to you*

*Heavy spoilers*

All angels consider each other siblings but out of the millions, possibly billions of angels. Lucifer chose to take five brothers and a sister (originally) under his wing.

He gave Mammon a challenge to become his apprentice and when he succeeded he welcomed Mammon with open arms and never rejected him afterwards even with all the trouble he caused.

He gave Asmodeus the nickname “Jewel of the Heavens” something he still loves to this day even as a demon.

He made Levi feel seen and useful even after the peace treaty between realms made his position obsolete.

He bonded with Beelzebub who was originally his guard and took him and his twin under his wings. He also introduced Lilith to the twins who became inseparable.

When Lilith fell in love he visited the Human World to see if this man was good and kind.

When Lilith broke a Celestial Law this man WENT TO WAR WITH AN ENTIRE REALM and GOD to save her. He asked his brothers to side with him and carried guilt for doing so after the war.

After the war, he pledged eternal loyalty to the man in control of the realm he was at war with for most of his existence all to save his sister despite the humiliation. He saved her even though she wouldn’t remember him and he could never see her again and he carried the burden for thousands of years until MC’s ancestry was revealed.

The Devildom and Celestial Realm hold very strict laws so he took whatever means necessary punishment-wise to correct their behavior. In the Celestial Realm, it was so his brothers weren’t outcast and in the Devildom it was so they weren’t imprisoned or killed.

His brothers believe he’s more loyal to Diavolo than to them but he does this FOR them.

When the brothers struggled with becoming demons he was there to comfort them.

When he accidentally created Satan he took full responsibility for the absolute murderous maniac and did his best to raise the personification of hatred.

He cared about Satan so much that when the brothers were offered the chance to return to the Celestial Realm, the realm he once ruled, he told them to return and he alone would stay with Satan so he wouldn’t be alone. Even though this decision meant he wouldn’t be able to see his brothers and they’d be seen as enemies, he wanted what he believed was best for them and what they wanted.

Lucifer did everything he could to master new demon magic, insert himself into Devildom politics, and befriend his enemies all for his brothers’ sakes to give them the same position of respect they had in the Celestial Realm.

In Nightbringer when he was incarcerated in Cocytus the fact his brothers were being held too enraged him to the point he broke free and even fought Diavolo believing he had something to do with it. And when Raphael cried having to sentence him, Lucifer wasn’t angry he felt sorry for Raphael—a former brother.

Lucifer continuously fights those many times stronger than him all for his family’s sake.

Even though it pained him to see his former angelic brothers for the exchange program he remained cordial even though it was at first awkward and a reminder of all the pain of the past. He did this for his former brothers.

When Belphegor threatened treason and war, he lied to the ruler of the Devildom and hid Belphegor away to PROTECT him.

He lashed out at Mc and nearly killed them because he saw them as a threat to his brothers. First when Luke held the Grimoire that could control them and MC got in the way; then threatened them because they were making pacts with all his brothers; then why they betrayed him and found Belphegor because this could reach Diavolo and Belphegor would be punished for treason. In Nightbringer he originally remained suspicious and cold because MC could control his brothers without a pact and then had the grimoire which could control them. Lucifer only attacked MC when he was being protective of his brothers.

When Lucifer had amnesia he immediately bonded with his brothers again and revealed many things he’d done secretly to help them like pulling strings to get Mammon the car he worked so hard for.

He was even willing to sacrifice himself to let MC live who became family (or romantic interest—up to you) and his final ask was that they take care of his brothers.

Lucifer’s methods seem strict, unforgiving, and cruel but remember this is HELL, the DEVILDOM. Law only recently was created and Diavolo may be forgiving but who’s to say his father or descendants would be just as lenient? If his brothers don’t behave it could mean the worst and he refuses to lose another family member.

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donatellawritings · 16 days

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does bff!rafe ever yell at latina reader? like does he ever correct her/put her in her place like he would prolly be so hot

he’s kinda mean in this one sorry :(

it wasn’t an often occurrence for you to be put in your place by rafe, but it did happen at times. you were always so perky and bubbly that just couldn’t contain yourself, or you worked yourself out to the point of being a restless little brat. nevertheless, rafe wasn’t afraid to check you back into reality, if needed — plus, he was your bestest friend in this world, he couldn’t steer your wrong! and sure, to the public eye, his methods would seem to be a bit harsh, but you knew deep down that rafe was a man, and men had a duty to take care of the ones they love and keep them in a straight line, right?

today had been one of those days — you were sat next to rafe, all pretty and dolled up, your soft makeup enhanced but your fresh set of lash extensions and dior gloss that glazed your swollen lips, tiffany earrings glinting under the sun as you sat in your slinky cherry blossom skims dress, your feet adorned with miu miu mules. too bad, your doll-like cadence was quickly soured by the displeased frown that painted your face, your doe eyes squinted as you mindlessly chewed on your acrylic nail.

you got off on being the center of rafe’s attention, so having to take the backseat to some blonde kook who was schmooze some free coke out of him was a serious no-no.

crossing your arms, you subconsciously pushed your tits further against your chest, flipping your tousled and freshly layered hair over your shoulder, “fucking pendeja,” you mumbled, just loud enough for rafe to turn to you, his sunglasses covering the silencing glare that he sent your way.

“cut it out,” rafe warns, his voice low as he returns his attention back to the pathetic blonde, leaving you dumbfounded and a bit embarrassed.

letting out an unimpressed scoff, you raise from your seat, making your way over to barry who stood with a knowing smirk of his face, “what’s goin’ on, princesa — country club pissin’ y’off again?” he chuckles, taking a sip from the chilled bottle of beer that sat in his grip.

smoothing a manicure hand down your hip, you shrug, batting your full lashes, “i wanna go home, m’bored,” you announce, adjusting the strap of your cream mini prada bag that sat on your shoulder, “a mi no me importa que el dice — he’s mean,” you continue, earning a raised eyebrow from barry.

“if i took y’little ass home, that boy would freak out and m’not dealin’ with his crazy ass,” barry sighs, not missing the way you quickly whipped your head back to rafe, a low huff leaving your lips as he continued flashing his million dollar smile at the ditsy blonde, “yo, he’s just doin’ business, a’ight? don’t need to get all sad,” barry consoles, earning a forced smile from you.

with a small and uneasy nod, you turn your pretty little head to find rafe your rafe man spread with the blonde sat right on his lap, whispering little nothings into her ear as she snorts a line clean off of the coffee table. hot tears were quick to brim at your waterline as you stand with parted lips, your heart beating in your chest as you whip your head back to barry, who ran a stressed hand over his face.

your sad little head could barely process all of the emotions and thoughts that crashed over you. rafe was supposed to be your best friend — he wasn’t supposed to hurt you, he was supposed to be yours. he kissed you, he took you shopping, he danced with you, he read novels with you, he knew you better than you knew yourself … you were supposed to be his girl.

keeping your wet bambi eyes trained on your feet, you let out a quiet whimper, “barry, can you please take me home?” you asked politely, quickly knuckling your stream of tears as barry wordlessly nodded, nudging your forearm with the surface of his rough hand.

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

sat on your fluffy powder pink duvet, thumb in mouth, you managed to chip the pearlescent polish that coated you structured nail, knees curled into your chest. your dress had been swapped for tiny pink shorts and a skimpy white camisole that clung to your frame. barry was so nice to you, even making sure that you were inside of your house, before he sped off.

you was sparkly eyes now blinked all swollen from your relentless tears, nose and cheeks flushed as the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer to your locked bedroom door, pulling your thumb out of your mouth, you sniffle as rafe’s voice calls out from the other side of your door, his hand fumbling with the secure knob, “c’mon kid, just open the door, yeah? i know y’mad at me,” he sighs, taking a brief pause from jiggling the door knob, before sending a light shove into the door, “i swear to god, i’ll fuckin’ break this door,” he calls out, sending a harder shove into the door.

your doe eyes widened with fear as you hopped off of your bed, rafe’s frustrated hits against the door growing harder as you pad over to unlock the door, barefoot and all.

wrapping your small hand around the knob, you coyly open the door, your short and meek frame met with an impatient rafe who towered over you with blown pupils, “fuck are y’doing, leavin’ with barry, huh?” he questions menacingly, his button-up now revealing his firm chest as he tongues the inside of his cheek, “y-y’say that slick shit while m’doin business, and then y’wanna fuckin’ leave?” he laughs, completely unamused as he cocks his head to the side.

remaining silent, you shrug, bottom lip poked out into a pout as you reach to softly close the door behind rafe, “i dunno,” you whimper, your voice cracked as rafe shoves your arm away from the door, before slamming it shut and locking it with a forceful hand.

“i let y’spoiled ass get away with a looot of shit, don’t i? y’get your little fuckin’ attitude — who’s the one that fixes it, huh?!” rafe asks rhetorically, jabbing his fingers into his chest as you squeeze your dolly eyes shut, stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

letting out an unfazed scoff, rafe shoots a hand out to latch onto your jaw, painfully mushing your cheeks together, “y’think i let people bitch me around, princess? look at me when m’talkin to you!” he shouts, your dewy eyes fluttering open as a choked-up cry leaves your pillowy lips.

gently pawing at rafe’s flexed wrist, your eyes soften, “y’scaring me, papi,” you squeak out, small shorts wedged between your ass cheeks as rafe’s eyes shoot down to the bff locket that sits between the valet of you supple breasts.

returning his eyesight to meet yours, rafe swiftly removes his hand from your sore jaw as he grabs ahold of your waist, spinning you to face your bed as he bends you over the edge of your bed. muffled cries leave your lips, the side of your face mushed against your duvet as rafe’s front pushes against the exposed curves of your ass.

“rafe— stop—”

“m’scarin you, yeah? y’wanna know what a guy like barry would do to your little ass?” rafe mutters, his strong hand maintaining its hold on the back of your head.

“rafe, stop! please!” you scream, pure terror in your voice as you hiccup against the sheets, loud sobs heaving out of you as rafe abruptly pulls away from you.

pained cries seep out of your mouth as you remained bent over, fat teardrops soaking your duvet as you mewl into the soft plush, you heart raced a million miles a minute, shaky hands reaching to cover your own mouth.

passing a hand through his buzzed hair, rafe lets out a shaky breath, the sound of your sharp and intense cries ringing through his ears as he shakes his head, he knew that he went entirely too far. you remained on your bent, your small frame shuddering with shock as your eyes squeezed shut, your wet lashes clumped together.

laying a hesitant hand to your sweaty lower back, rafe winces in shame as you flinch away from his touch with a scared little sob, “fuck — mama, please — m’sorry a’ight,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his ringed finger and thumb, your sharp cries becoming entirely too much for him to bear, “okay-okay, m’gonna sit you on my lap, okay?” he coos, his palm sliding down your back in soothing strokes.

tucking his bottom lip underneath his sharp teeth, rafe waits until your cries has somewhat subsided, before he gently pulls you into his sturdy arms. still skittish, you keep your eyes shut, burying your face to hide in the crook of his cologne-scented neck. low cries sniffle from your nose as rafe carefully maneuvers himself to lean against the headboard of your bed, while keeping you securely curled against him.

“there we go,” he mumbles under his breath, gently placing one of your legs to straddle over him, you back arched as your small hands fist into his shirt for dear life.

raising a hand to stroke over your hair, rafe presses his lips to the side of your head, lightly caressing you, until your breathing evened out, your eyes still closed.

adjusting the waistband of your pink shorts, rafe gently pats your poked out ass, his other hand now scratching at your scalp as he leans his lips closer to your ear, “can y’open your eyes for me — miss those pretty eyes,” rafe asks, his voice light and airy as your fists unravel from his shirt.

slowly raising your head from rafe’s chest, you let out a smooth huff, the tip of your nose shiny as your bloodshot eyes meet rafe’s. allowing his pink lips to expand into a satisfied smile, rafe nudges your chin, “hi pretty girl … didn’t mean to scare y’like tha—”

“i thought you were going to hurt me, papi. i-i don’t like when you get like that,” you rush out, licking over your dry lips, your fingers lazily fumbling with the hem of rafe’s shirt.

mindlessly drumming his hands against the sides of your hips, rafe nods in agreeance, “i know, sweetheart an—”

“and i left, because you w-were with that stupid girl and you let her sit on your lap … you only let me do that,” you cut in once more, tits stretching against the thin fabric of your cami as you take in a shaky inhale, still not secure enough to maintain an elongated eye contact with rafe.

bringing both hands to cradle your face, rafe raises your head, requiring your full attention, “gotta let me talk for this one, okay?” he reprimands softly, earning a short nod from you.

just as rafe parted his lips to continue, you sighed, “only i can sit on your lap, mi vida,” you whine.

accepting defeat, rafe nods, pulling you in by your bff necklace to get you in a warm kiss. a gasp of shock seeped into rafe’s mouth from yours as he pulls away with a loud and wet smack, “i know, kid.”

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bff!rafe #rafe x reader

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months

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Ateez with an s/o who's always a little horny right after waking up. That's it. That's the thought.

(This totally doesn't come from the fact that I'm like that and wake up constantly wishing yunho's fingers or mingi's head were between my thighs)

~lyra

OKAY SO THIS?!?!?!? IMMACULATE IDEA!!

(warning for smut and somnophilia but i feel like that’s obvious)

seonghwa

okay so i’m of the opinion that seonghwa will do anything to keep the love of his life happy

if that means letting you grind on his thighs when you wake up first thing in a morning, then so be it!

like i can imagine him waking up to your moans one morning, all bleary eyes and confused while you try your hardest to push yourself to an orgasm

he watches through his lashes for a second while he decides what to do because he’s still tired but he can’t leave his love to suffer!

“just use my thigh, darling,” he mutters eventually, voice still a little scratchy, “i cant sleep with you squirming about like that.”

you’re a little confused, but seonghwa just pulls you closer and slides a thigh between yours

“there you go,” he says as you grind down, “now go crazy, darling.”

hongjoong

hongjoong strikes me as someone who likes to use toys in the bedroom (idk why, he just gives me those vibes)

like he collects them like pokémon cards and just keeps them in one of his drawers for when the opportunity strikes

and it does strike when he wakes up one morning to you moaning and squirming in your sleep

he takes him time picking a toy out before shaking you awake and dangling in front of your tired eyes

“you want this, baby?” he watches as you sleepily nod, “ask for it like a good girl.”

and even though your voice is slurred with sleep and your eyes are already fluttering closed again, you can’t help but quietly beg for what hongjoong is offering

yunho

oh you’re so right about yunho’s fingers - i am a huge fan of them personally and i think he definitely gets off on seeing his partner fall apart on them

so when you have a conversation with him about always being horny when you first wake up, a million ideas flood his brain

“what if i woke you up by making you cum?” he asks as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, “y’know, play with you a little to get rid of that tension.”

you’re practically squirming in your seat at the idea, and of course yunho can tell

so the next time you sleep over, he puts it to the test and begins to play with your clit first think when he wakes up

and by the time you even wake up, he already has two fingers stuffed deep inside of you fucking you mercilessly as he pushes you closer to the edge

yeosang

yeosang would be so nonchalant about it but in the best way possible

like it’s kind of hot when you nudge him awake, a whine climbing up your throat as you struggle to make yourself cum with your fingers

he just grunts at you tiredly and pats his lap for you to climb on, which you do in a heartbeat

“you can ride me if you want,” he says with his eyes still closed, “i’d fuck you but i’m too tired right now.”

and you’re kind of too tired as well, but the horniness outweighs it and you power through the ache in your bones as you work to get him hard before sliding down onto his cock

and the moment you’ve finished he’s wrapping you in his arms and pulling you to his chest

“10 more minutes and then we’ll get up.”

san

if you don’t think san is doing everything in his power to make his lover happy then i’m afraid you’re incorrect

so when he finds out about your little morning horniness problem, he’s obviously filled with sympathy and compassion (and horniness…)

“you can wake me up, you know,” he shrugs, trying to seem chill about it, “or just use my body, or some shit. i don’t mind, babe.”

and of course you take him up on his offer; you use any part of his body you can think of

his thigh, his bicep, his abs - it’s all on the table for you, and it’s so good every single time

and when he wakes up to see you already a moaning mess, grinding on the muscles he’s worked so hard on, it’s safe to say you’ll have to prepare yourself for round two… and three

mingi

i’ve said it a million times before but this man has an oral fixation and you know i’m right!!!!

so obviously when you complain about how much you hate waking up horny all the time, it’s like christmas has come early for him

“do you want me to sort that for you?” he perks up, eyes glistening like you’ve just given him the moon, “i can sort that for you…”

and of course you agree because you’re so sick and tired of always having to wank first thing in the morning!!

but what you don’t know is that the alternative mingi is suggesting is you waking up to him mouthing at your core like a starving animal each and every morning

you cant complain when he does the job so well though

he always makes you cum at least three times before pulling away and shoving his dick inside of you to solve his own morning wood problem…

wooyoung

again, i’ve said it a million times before but he’s such an evil little shit!!!!

like i can imagine him waking up pretty early in the morning, only to hear the sweet sound of your moans echoing through the room

he turns to you with an amused grin, watching you way your face screws up as you desperately paw at your clit

“want some help?” you nod desperately, “you’ll have to say sorry for waking me up first. i couldn’t sleep with you being so loud!”

and if you weren’t so desperate you wouldn’t even considered it for a millisecond, but you’re right on the edge and you just need one more thing to push you over the edge so…

“m’sorry, youngie,” you say with a sleepy voice, “please make me cum.”

and how can he say no when you ask so nicely??

jongho

jongho is another little devil who i think takes great pride in teasing you for being so horny

“you want me to fuck you while you’re still asleep?” he cocks an eyebrow at you when you first bring it up, “you really can’t get enough of me, can you honeybun?”

and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though he’s right; you really can’t get enough of him…

the next morning you wake up to jongho’s moans in your ear and a heavy cock spreading you open and fucking into you

“g’morning,” he grunts into your ear, “didn’t think you’d be asleep for so long but i guess you’re a slut even in your dreams.”

the both of you finish pretty soon after you wake up, and the moment you do, jongho goes back to being his usual teddy bear self

literally has you pinned to his chest and his soft cock still inside you for pretty much the rest of the morning

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez asks #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot

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raitonsfw · 2 months

Text

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐) | 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: When you come home with tears running down your face, Choso immediately fills an entire wine glass for you. You had gotten your period that day, on Valentine’s Day of all days, and there was no way he was going to want to do anything with you. But it was quite the opposite actually; the man was practically begging for you to engulf him as soon as you mentioned your predicament.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, needy!choso, period sex, blood play/kink, begging, pleading, whimpering (oh my!), riding, sexual intercourse, creampie, hair pulling, grinding, breast play, reader rides choso with a wine glass in their hand, spilling of wine, pet names (baby), choso the blood manipulator alright (ideas for this man practically write themselves)

a/n: happy valentine's day! wrote this on my period last month and am currently going through the motions again so lucky me! (tmi sowwy) enjoy and here's your 3rd valentine from me! 💌 wc: 2.7k. v-day m.list | m.list

now playing: the red means i love you by madds buckley

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Y/N? Open up, please.” You heard Choso’s quiet rasp through the door and you felt even more tears slip from the corners of your eyes, threatening to ruin your makeup even more. The mascara had poured down your face and you tried your best to wipe it all off, but it had stained a bit and you didn’t care anymore; you just needed it off.

“No.” You managed out as normally as you possibly could but he could hear the broken huffs that came from you. He was confused to say the least, the glass of red liquid in his hand chilling his fingers as he waited for you to tell him what was wrong. You couldn’t offer him an answer though as you panicked throughout the confines of the bathroom, scrubbing off the cursed makeup your period ruined.

It wasn’t the best day be bleeding from your fucking cunt.

You had run past Choso the second you got home, much to his discontent as he welcomed you home with a small murmur before fading away as you disappeared into the bathroom. He had set up a wonderful Valentine’s night in for the both of you, the most expensive wine sitting in the middle of the dining table as you arrived and he took the opportunity to pour more wine into yours without a second thought; hell you might need the whole bottle.

“I have a glass of wine for you.” He tried to convince you with that, but you didn’t budge from your spot in front of the mirror. You glanced towards the box of tampons that sat against the back of the shelf near the tub, frowning at it. You wished you could flush them down the toilet, but all that would offer you would be cotton waste and a clog with nearly a million girls threatening you from the shadows because those things were fucking expensive.

“Choso, I’m fine.”

“Please open the door. I want to help you.” He started to knock on it, sending you into a frenzy as you hurried wiping your makeup off. You threw the makeup wipe in the trash; and what stared back at you was a mess and all you wanted to do was hide beneath the sheets and isolated from society for the five wretched days. You were able to get the mascara off, but some of it still smudged underneath your lashes as a reminder that the promised look for the date went awry because of your sobbing. Which brought you to another revelation, your boyfriend.

Choso wasn’t going to want to have sex with you tonight, not when you were bleeding rivers. You had gone over his reaction in your head a thousand times and every single one didn’t end up with a good outcome; especially since it was such a precious day to him, it felt like your worst nightmare had come true.

“Y/N.”

You sighed heavily, unlocking the door with a quiet tilt and Choso immediately opened it when he heard the click of the lock. You didn’t get to look at him properly as you ran past him, but he had cleaned up considerably nice today; his blood mark cut neatly against the bridge of his nose and his hair, albeit still incredibly messy, sat up like pins in the ponytails he spored them into. The dark circles around his eyes were still prominent in the luminescent light of the bathroom and you felt for him, he must’ve waited for you for a while.

Then again, he always looked tired to you.

Choso held out your glass of wine to you, but then faltered a bit as he took a good look at you. Your eyes were rimmed red with blemished tears as you stared back at him, flicking back and forth from the red liquid in the glass and his puzzled face. Instead he sat the wine glass on the accented table next to the bathroom with a tiny exhale and came up behind you with strong arms. He folded them underneath yours, his fingers dancing over the crevices of your tummy and he pulled you close to him. Resting his chin against your shoulder, he rocked you softly with him to the sway of the music that played out in the living room.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Choso whispered into your ear, pressing feathered kisses behind it and you shuddered at the action. “Do I have to kill someone for you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” You gave him a tired laugh, placing your hands on his where they intertwined. His hair tickled the back of your neck as he started to kiss down it towards your shoulder and you tried to pull away. “Choso…”

“Yeah?” He hummed out, a bit muffled by your shoulder and his violet eyes glanced towards the mirror, towards yours and you suddenly felt so exposed as they filled with adoration. You couldn’t see his mouth, your shoulder covered it but you knew he was ready to plant kisses down your back and your waist if you let him– anywhere he could reach within a few minutes he would be worshipping.

“You were looking forward to a night in, right?” You asked him, one of your hands coming up to pick at his hair sticking up from their confines in the hair tie.

“Is that not happening now?” Choso straightened up a bit, his mouth pouting into a confused frown. He narrowed his eyes a bit, trying to figure out exactly what happened to you. Out of everything he thought of, he speculated you had a rough day at work and needed some love; which was easily done as he’d be right in between your thighs with his tongue lapping up your cunt, two calloused fingers stuffed within in no time.

“It might need to be changed a bit…”

“Why’s that?” Now he was worried, his arms squeezing you closer to him, a whine etching his words as he rested his chin against your shoulder again. Choso didn’t know much about human emotions, especially women’s and he’d have to ask Yuji later what it meant when one tries to postpone a date night. He’d probably say that means they don’t like you, but that couldn’t be possible; he knew you liked him, otherwise you would’ve left him already. You wouldn’t have tolerated six months with him if you didn’t in some form or another ‘like’ him.

“I got my period earlier today.”

There was a pause and you felt as though you could hear a pin drop but then there was a bit of shuffling behind you and you observed Choso’s eyes to try and gauge his reaction. You swore you saw them darken, the vibrance of them tinting and he squinted at you slightly before resuming his kisses down your shoulder and you felt his hands trail up towards your chest. Your breasts were sore, swollen and when he lifted them up slightly with his palms, you let out a relieved sigh. They wandered over your peaked nipple, his fingers slicing over it and you felt the heat rush through your cheeks as he tweaked it slightly through your clothing.

“Choso?” You watched him through the mirror and you saw the blush that had crept up on his face, you knew that flushed look– and the hardened outline of his cock pressing into your backside very well.

“Fuck baby, that made me hard…” Choso muttered admittedly into your shirt with another whine, purposefully hiding his face so you wouldn’t tease his blush. The slightest thing would turn him on so you weren’t that surprised, though you didn’t quite expect it to be because of the crimson between your legs.

What were you so worried about? It’s Choso, the boy who would become flustered if you so much as kissed his hand while in public, who would nearly fall to his knees when you showed off the lingerie you bought whilst out shopping, who would pant at the sight of your arousal leaking out of you like a faucet; your hormones did you so dirty, letting you believe he wouldn’t get off on a little blood.

After all, he was a blood manipulator and this was his speciality.

“That made you hard?” You backed your hips into him slightly, earning a choked gasp from him. “You don’t mind me being on my period? If it bothers you, we can use a cond-”

“No, no condom. Don’t want that, want to feel you.” Choso blurted out and you knew you had him pegged, completely cornering him by the thought of pleasure. You bent over slightly and watched him through the mirror as his entire face turned red, his crotch pressing directly against yours now.

“What about the blood?” You asked, genuinely concerned that he lost his mind as he started to not so subtly grind against your cunt with a roll of his hips. Choso knocked you slightly over against the edge of the sink, his hands grasping for your hips now, one trailing up your back to bend you further and the other steadying you so he could bury deeper into the warmth. His hand found your hair and you were sure he was going to yank it, but instead he tangled it into the strands and rubbed circles into your scalp like the good boy that he was.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to use one.” The heat of your cunt made him dizzy and he couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good it would feel to plunge into you, the blood making it so overbearingly wet that he might bust as soon as he’s bottomed out. God, he was this pussy drunk already? He had his chin tilted up now, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head and you watched with tenacious eyes. He wasn’t even buried in you yet and his tongue was nearly lolling out of his mouth at the thought of you squeezing around him senselessly with an extra lubrication drooling around his cock.

“I want to drink my wine though...” You whined out, perhaps a bit more innocently than you intended.

A short groan came out of him and that’s when his hand gripped at the tendrils of your hair, yanking it upwards with a harsh pull. His arm flexed as he pulled you up towards him, quieting huffs and pants escaping him as he continued grinding against you. Sometimes when he got like this, all hot and bothered and nearly on the verge of devouring you whole, he didn’t know his own strength and you yelped in pain, moresos shock. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, his hips ceasing their movements and his chest rose and fell against your back.

“Drink it while you ride me then.” He whined into your ear in rushed syllables, his fingers digging into the crevices of your thighs. They crawled towards the front of your mound, dipping lowly into the soft covered flesh there, if only he could fucking reach his hand down your panties… but you hesitantly stopped him before his hands got dirty. “I need you now, right now. Please, Y/N?”

How could you possibly say no to his pleas?

And there you were five minutes later, with your wine glass balancing delicately on the tips of your fingers as you sunk down onto him as he babbled out begs and whimpers. Your pussy fluttered against the intrusion of his cock and you let out a delicious moan, your head tipping back as he thrusted up inside you greedily. Choso nearly knocked you off of him, your wine almost spilling from the confines of the glass and you glared at him as you ceased his movements. “Cho– you almost made me spill my wine!”

He faux pouted before continuing to bounce you harshly on his cock, his fingers digging into your flesh and you could barely hold the glass still against your lips; it drenched your breasts and his chest, staining you both a beautiful red. As Choso noticed the deep color, he instantly glanced down at where you two were connected, the blood slicking up his cock so nicely and at the base it glistened with it. He couldn’t fucking see straight at this point, your pussy clenched around him like a vice as he refused to let ride him fully; he was just so desperate.

“Shit, I’m so sorry– c-can’t stop.” One of his arms came to wrap around you as he sat up on his elbow, his tongue lapping over the stickiness of your chest and he moaned out as he tasted the tartness of it against your skin. His palm laid flat against the middle of your back as he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing lightly. As you looked down at him, you almost came from the sight. Choso’s eyes were closed and you could feel the incessant groans and grunts coming from his mouth, the vibrations surrounding your breast and his eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure with every harsh roll of your hips.

Deep pleasure shot through your body, every single one of your nerves nearly setting on fire and clutched the wine glass in your hand but you knew you were going to eventually drop it if he kept fucking you like this. You couldn’t bring it to your lips, your mouth had fallen open in small pants and moans and you felt Choso take the glass from you. He quickly set it down on the end table, temporarily popping off of your nipple to do so and you used that to your advantage to pin him down onto the bed again.

“Baby, baby, please.” He whimpered as you dragged yourself up his cock and slammed back down on it, his hands flying towards the pillow and clutching it. He buried his face into the crook of his arm, trying desperately to muffle the moans that poured out of him as his hips barely kept up with yours. “Please, fuck me, I’m so close–”

With every thrust a drowning squelch filled the room, nothing but your arousal mixing with your blood and his precum, submerged in the intoxicating feeling of what it was like fuck up into the wettest mixture ever; Choso felt the blood dripping down his thighs and the dip of his balls and it spurred him on even more, his orgasm flooding through him and threatening to spill out into you.

“Baby, can I cum in you–? Can I, please? Fuck, I need to...” Choso whined, frenzied purple eyes peeking out from underneath his arm and you nodded quickly, your own orgasm piling up your spine and you felt him shudder beneath you. You watched in awe as his eyes squeezed shut and his face contorted as his hands found your hips again trying to still you against him. His mouth had dropped open in a pitchy moan and you swore you’ve never been more in love, but here you were watching your man fall apart within minutes because of how good your pussy felt whilst on your period and it made you numb with devotion.

Your orgasm met his a few seconds after, squeezing him tightly in place and you breathed through the ecstasy. Your hands were glued to his chest, convulsing through the pleasure that spread throughout your body and you felt his hands come to grasp at yours in a heated motion. Coming down from your high, you regrettably rolled your hips off of him, a heady groan coming from Choso and you noticed how fucking soaked his dick was with your fluids, your face reddening at the sight.

You gasped as you also noticed the wine and blood stains splattered against the white sheets you two laid on. “Oh God, Choso…”

“We can get new sheets. Come here.” He breathed out, sitting up fully and leaning towards you needily. His hands pulled you back onto his lap and you squeaked, his dick resting against your thigh and you let him kiss you eagerly. He tasted of fruit, the wine that he laved at earlier, and pure adoration that spilled out of every nook of his curse.

Yeah, you were an idiot to not believe Choso wouldn’t go nuts over this. He wasn’t going to let something so dreadfully normal, not to mention erotic, ruin his Valentine’s and especially not yours.

You pulled a whine from him as you bit his bottom lip, earning the promised words you were especially dying to hear. “Round two, baby?”

taglist: @izakyun | @classyempathmongercloud | @rubyparsonx

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

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nariism · 4 months

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those words you spoke to me — i. sae

"i'm done waiting" + "i think i'm in love with you" + "don't look at me that way" + unrequited love

synopsis. you were always staring at itoshi sae's back. he was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @verysium i hope this is enough angst for you... | event masterlist ✉️

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

He's too pretty for his own good, handsome and impossibly solid. He has this expression, too—cold and calculating, easy to admire so long as you aren't on the receiving end of his scrutinizing eyes.

Sae is a wonder of the world, a whirlwind of talent and fame and witty remarks and everything in between. He's the entirety of the word football, syllable to syllable, playing as if he were damned to do so. As if he were only ever born to decimate a soccer field. As if the universe had swallowed up the meaning of anything else in his heart long before he was even born.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae.

Your next door neighbour. The one who smacks you behind the head when you're being impolite to your elders. The one who makes sure your legs are properly tucked under the kotatsu so nonchalantly, as if he's incapable of telling you he cares any other way.

You're confident that he's this beautiful in every other life, in every reincarnation, in every world. That perfection could only possibly exist simmering in his soul.

Teal eyes that blink at you in confusion and annoyance, yet have an unmistakable fondness hidden beneath the stormy waters of his irises; soft hair slicked back because he couldn't be bothered to deal with his bed head; lashes that hug his waterline—you're not sure you'll witness raw beauty like this again in your lifetime.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You know that much for sure.

If you ever lost your memory you're certain you would know him still: the feeling of his back against you as he shields you from his screaming brother, the smell of his cologne permanently dancing under your nose. You would know the expanse of his skin, every light freckle on his nose, the firmness of his chest beneath your palms.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. You could crumble to your knees and tell him everything—the love you harbour for him, the way he has devoured your heart. But truth be told, he's the devil. He could never love you back—not in this life. Not in any other.

You knew that. So why are you still standing on his front porch in the middle of the night?

"I'm in love with you."

He stares at you absently from his door, hand gripping the handle so tight that his knuckles are turning white.

"That's not funny," he scoffs.

"It's not a joke."

His gaze sharpens into a glare, head tilting back almost as if he's looking down on you. It's a foreign feeling, one that you'd witnessed a million and one times before but never felt for yourself—to be unwanted by Sae. To be without meaning.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" He hisses. It appears that he's bubbling with emotion, but you can't figure out which ones. "I'm supposed to get on this plane in eight hours."

Ah, Spain. He was leaving and you'd never be able to stop him if you tried. If you did, you're positive that he would rip through you like a bullet with no remorse.

"I love you," you repeat. He falters, eyes roaming your expression to try and understand what the hell you're doing.

What are you doing? You have to wonder that for yourself.

You were always staring at Sae's back. He was the one who stood between you and Rin when you fought, protecting you from his temperamental little brother despite thinking you were both being idiots. He was the one who sat in front of you in class, passing his eraser whenever you kicked the back of his chair. He was the one on the other end of the field, attacking enemy territories while you were left behind in the bleachers.

He was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes. He was born to be more than a lover, a friend, a companion. Itoshi Sae was destined for perfection, to be out of reach despite being so close.

But you'd mistaken his rotten kindness for love too many years ago to take it back, never able to undo the knots he had tied in your stomach.

You wanted to be selfish, just this once. You wanted to be seen, to know that he knows. You've waited long enough.

If Sae was born to play football, you're sure you were only ever born into this world to chase after him. To love him so much that it ate your flesh.

"I just had to tell you. At least once in my life, I had to."

"Stop looking at me like that—"

"I've always loved you."

"—it's pathetic."

Silence fills the air and you suddenly become hyper aware of how many tears have gathered in the corners of your eyes; the heat of your sorrow streaming down your face.

For a moment, he hesitates. There's that familiar fondness glimmering in his gaze, soft and reserved for you. His childhood friend—the one who kept losing all his erasers and the one whose voice he could hear cheering for him from all the way down the field.

Then it melts away, and he looks at you with utter indifference. You think that he's unfairly good at hiding his thoughts behind a mask of apathy.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he whispers.

I want you to love me back. "You don't have to say anything."

He looks at you for a long time, just staring. There's conflict swimming in every part of his expression, lips parting then shutting again as if he can't decide how to respond.

"I think you should leave."

You blink at him, at the bluntness of his words. You've witnessed this before; the way he so easily pushes others away when he feels too vulnerable. To be loved is to be seen, to be known, and Sae wants none of that.

"If that's what you want."

Some part of you deep down knows that it's not what he wants. That there are words unspoken tangled up in his throat. But his apprehension is enough, telling you that his heart is devoid of space for another human even if he wished for it to be different.

"It is," he strains out, lying through his teeth. "I don't love you that way. You're like a sibling—"

"Don't do that," you interrupt, drawing away from him. "Just break my heart, please."

"I don't love you." And he leaves it at that.

Hell comes in the form of Itoshi Sae. It's a notion that follows you as you walk down the driveway toward your stalled car, left running because deep down you already knew his answer.

The beauty of his forbidden paradise drives you to turn around, too, and just like every other time his back is turned to you. His hand rests on the handle of his door, yet his body is frozen in place. You wait for a moment, eyes cast over your shoulder to see if he'll turn around and finally look your way.

He doesn't.

(You've driven off by the time he comes back outside, watching the back of your car pull away into the fog.

He's done the right thing, he thinks. He could never stand watching you cry.)

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ki-yomii · 2 months

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beg | myg

➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader

➥ word count | 1.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, mild degradation, mild praise kink, established relationship, rough oral (m receiving), throatfucking, teasing, pet names, throat bulge, studio sex, wet & messy, reader wears a necklace with yoongi's initial

➥ summary | requested from this - "Oh no, not until you beg." & "Relax your throat." With Min Yoongi :3

➥ notes | for anon~ hope you enjoy 🧡 un-edited, I’ll come back to fix things when it’s not 2 AM lol

masterlist | ask box | AO3

The low hum of the A/C unit overhead and the whir of the computer fan kicking on is almost enough to drown out the wet gags and gargled breathing but only just.

Not that it really matters - the hours had long since crept past midnight, and Yoongi was meticulous when it came to the design of his studio.

Key pad, double doored, soundproofed to hell and back; the whole shebang.

Millions of won poured into the construction of the four walls that made up his altar, his church. Furthermore, not only did others give a wide berth when he's on-site at HYBE, but even fewer have the special privilege of being granted access to his private sanctum.

You're one of the lucky ones.

Mind, it took several (long) months of veiled suggestions and cajoling to get you to where you are now, but it was worth it in the end.

Watching a man so thoroughly married to his work set aside his convictions to give attention to your relationship doesn't sit right with you. Plus, it wasn’t sustainable in the long run - even though you appreciate the effort.

No, this arrangement is much better - the best of both worlds.

Not only do you get to spend time with him, he gets to share what he loves. A win-win for everyone involved, but especially for you when Yoongi is horny and agitated.

“Mm, come on, baby,” Yoongi husks, wicking away the mascara clinging to the swell of your cheek with a rough thumb, “I know you can take me all the way. Now, stop playing, and relax your throat.”

Burning eyes fluttering open, you take in the blurry upside-down view that greets you through clumpy lashes; a sea of dark wood, the pale stretch of his legs, the pool of black basketball shorts puddled around his ankles.

Propped up as you are, head dangling over the thin leather armrest of the couch, you can't get a good angle without giving yourself a crick. Little spasms are already shooting through your neck, and down in between your shoulders because of the lack of proper support.

Something you'll definitely be paying for later.

But you're not about to stop Yoongi.

Not when he has you laid out on your back with his cock in your mouth, both of you working towards stuffing it down your throat. Even if your lips are fucked raw and swollen, your chin slick with spit and pre-cum.

Your tongue stretches out to flick over the fat head of his cock when he slides free with a sticky pop. “Fuck yeah, just like that.”

You hum low in the back of your throat, threads of arousal shivering down your spine as your belly swoops at the low rumble of his voice, the delicate trace of his fingers along the sides of your neck.

He grunts when you dig the tip of your tongue into his weeping slit, lapping and swirling around the spongy crown.

“Heh, you’re such a filthy bitch for me, aren’t you,” Yoongi says, his voice breathless and cracking around the edges. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and swallow my dick?”

Inhaling deep, you let your breath shudder from you on a shaky moan that teases the insides of his thighs, the base of his cock, “Yes, please. Want it, Yoongs.”

Yoongi hums, satisfied.

“Watch those teeth,” is the only warning you get.

Then he's cradling your jaw with his thumbs and nudging his hips forward to grind against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you drop your mouth open into a relaxed circle for Yoongi to fuck into.

The initial slide is smooth, aided by the strings of spit and pre-cum clinging to the lower half of your face. Though trouble begins the deeper Yoongi presses towards the back of your throat.

Your muscles tense as your mouth spreads wider and wider to accommodate his girth. An ache settles deep in your temples, little shocks of discomfort shooting down through the hinges of your jaw.

Tears leak past your clenched eyes, the renewed burn of mascara stinging your ducts as your sinuses clog. You whine - a raspy, muffled sound as your tongue wriggles along the underside of his shaft.

He hushes you, and anchors a hand on your shoulder as the other reaches down to twine with your fingers digging into his thigh. “Doing so good for me,” Yoongi said, “fucking perfect, baby.”

Your pussy clenches, your legs tensing against the leather. Sweat gathers behind your knees, your hips shivering with the need to twist, shift, and find a modicum of friction that’ll relieve the ache building behind your navel.

“Yeah, come on, that’s it. Just a little - shit - hah, that - oh fuck!”

His hips jerk forward as you hollow your cheeks to the best of your ability, hissing as teeth scrape along the sides of his shaft as he bullies his way deeper.

And then, with a pop richoetting down your spine, the head of his cock passes the back of your throat.

“Oh, baby,” Yoongi curses, his frame wracked with tremors.

His thighs shudder against your ears, his hips tense with anticipation as he holds himself still. Your throat rebels, rippling like a vice around his shaft, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Feel’s so - feels so good. You take me so well, knew you could. You always do.”

Gagging, your head goes light and floaty at the sudden lack of oxygen, tiny cavities peppering your vision.

Then you focus on breathing through your nose.

In - one, two, three. Out - one, two, three.

Over and over again until the mounting animal panic subsides, and you're left with tingling limbs and a throbbing cunt.

Yoongi groans, “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

Thumbs bracketing the sides of your neck stroke over the visible bulge of his shaft straining against the chain of your necklace, the delicate ‘Y’ charm branding your skin.

It'll leave a welt everyone can see. A little mark to stake his claim. To remember him by when you're separated.

The thought gets you hotter than you care to admit.

“Can see myself in your throat, baby.”

At the praise, liquid fire pulses through your veins, and warmth blooms in your belly. Settling between your hips until your clit twitches.

Slick soaks through the seat of your panties, and you feel all at once so full, and so, so empty.

The scent of his skin - clean and clear. The musk of his cologne - earthy and masculine. The salt of him heavy on your tongue, his cock throbbing in time with his thundering heartbeat as you swallow around him reflexively.

It's enough to send you reeling with the desperation, the desire to feel him cum down your throat, to taste his pleasure.

Half feral, you try bobbing your head, fingers hooking around Yoongi’s hips to drag him into the cradle of your face deeper, faster, harder.

Only to be met with resistance as he refuses to move, to give in to the frantic movements.

Standing stock still, he lets you tug and whine and writhe until your efforts fizzle to nothing.

And only then does he respond, bending over your body to slide a hand between your thighs.

You jerk, hiccup at the feeling of his fingers inching past the soaked hem of your panties. Brushing over the silken folds of your cunt, teasing, testing the slick arousal with his knuckles.

“Oh no, baby,” Yoongi says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through his chest into yours, “You gotta beg me first.”

#min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic

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loviatarsluv · 3 months

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The Last Vampire Spawn

inspired by this post by @fangsandfeels as well as this gorgeous art by @ria-neearts above that may or may not have made me sob at work when I saw it :)

also inspired by my dire need to hug this poor baby in this scene in particular and give him literally any sort of comfort because god knows he needs it 😭

Astarion x gn!tav / Astarion x gn!reader

SPOILER WARNING! act 3 and the climax of Astarion’s quest line!

CW: violence, death, anguish, angst, blood, gore

rating: sfw (still mature for the listed content above)

in summary: Astarion finally kills cazador and bro needs a hug and a therapist fr

this one is very short I don’t even know the word count lol

Astarion’s guttural and enraged wails echo against the stone walls of the crypt, nearly drowning the sounds of Cazador’s failed attempts at gurgled shrieks as the dagger pierced his body over, and over, and over.

You stand at the bottom of the stairs and watch, gripping onto Halsin as he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders as the three of you watch in horror while Astarion lets out two hundred years worth of pain, and agony, and hatred into every single thrust of the blade through his old master’s body. Hot tears sting your face as you watch on, tension filling the gaps of silence between your companions.

The vampire lord’s body falls limp before Astarion, bloodied and covered in viscera, lifeless. He takes a deep breath, falling back on his feet as his knees dig into the bloody marble floor. Sobs wrack through his body as he looks down with disdain at the corpse before him.

You exchange a glance with Halsin, a deeply unsettled and concerned face set into his features that wasn’t typical for his usually calm and collected persona. He looks between you and Astarion, and with just a glance, you realize what he’s thinking.

Before you can stop yourself, you run to Astarion, kneeling beside him. He’s too distraught to notice your presence beside him, so you place a gentle hand on his shoulder. He jolts slightly at your touch, then turns his face - his bloody, tear stained, and ever beautiful face to you, crimson eyes filled with a million emotions you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I’m here, my love. It’s over. You did it,” you whisper, voice trembling and breaking.

His eyes scan your face frantically, chest rising and falling rapidly and anxiously, his breathing ragged and uneven - he looks at you, and you look back at him, as you try to force a reassuring smile through your own tears.

His face twists into an even deeper scowl as his eyes dart between you and the ruined corpse crumpled on the floor next to you.

“His death isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.” He growls, his fists clenching onto the fabric of his breeches.

You stare at him, speechless. You know that no words could suffice or possibly begin to dull the pain that was evident in his face.

“I suffered through two hundred years of pain and starvation and torture… and all I’ve gotten from it all was being the one to see the light leave that monster’s eyes,” he whispers angrily, tears still rapidly streaming down his blood covered cheeks. “It isn’t fair.”

You tentatively move your face so that your eyes meet his once again, nearly afraid of what you’ll see when you do.

His eyes scan your face for a moment, and he presses his lips into a thin line.

“And where were you twenty years ago? A hundred? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young men you’d come to the rescue for?” He barks, his voice booming and bouncing off of the stone walls and into your ears making your head pound.

“Astarion—“

“How dare you! How dare you come to me now… when I’m this!” He wails, his voice cracking on the last word, his shoulders slumping.

Hot tears return to your waterline and pour over your lashes as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into your chest and cradling his head.

He presses his face into your chest, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist and melting into you, causing you to fall backwards slightly as he practically lays on your body, sobbing into your gear. He grips the back of your shirt as if his life depended on it, even though for the first time in what felt like a while, perhaps it didn’t.

Because despite the roiling dread in his gut - he was free. At long last.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, gently rubbing circles into his bare back as you let him cry. Sob. Scream. For as long as he needs.

The others slowly migrate closer, but not too close, not wanting to interrupt or intrude, just silently exchanging sympathetic glances, and a flash of pride across Karlach’s face as she looks on.

After what felt like hours, Astarion goes quiet, his breath slowly evening out. He sniffles, then slowly lifts his head so his eyes meet yours.

You place a hand on his cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb. He closes his eyes, savoring your touch, and sighs.

“He’s gone,” he whispers, almost too quietly for you to hear. As if he were mostly whispering it to himself. “He’s really gone…”

You nod, rubbing small circles on his cheek with your thumb. “I am so, so proud of you.”

He offers you a small, weak smile, that you return in kind. You place a kiss to the spot between his furrowed brows, his tense body relaxing only slightly into your touch. He still feels coiled up like a serpent ready to strike, still heavily on guard despite Cazador and his minions being long gone. You presume it will be a long while before he truly relaxes, but you feel more than willing and ready to be there every step of the way.

#this one had a lil kick to it!#idk why im just very emo about him lately #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #my fics #one shot #short fic

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anantaru · 12 days

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. breaking up because he wants to keep you safe, right person wrong time, cw. angst, he's lying to you, break up, mentions of death, gn! reader

what if childe doesn't want to break up with you, yet he's also aware that someone being close to a harbinger was way too dangerous, keeping you as his significant other would be a death sentence for you— his enemies are countless, he doesn't fear them but you should. what if he cannot protect you? aside from that, even within the fatui, he cannot trust a single individual.

who knows if somebody was actually able to find out about your secret relationship and use it in order to force childe into doing something? blackmail him or threatening to hurt you if he doesn't comply? can he even come to your rescue then? just thinking about you dying in front of him makes him want to fall asleep and never wake up.

after he went through those multiple concerns spreading inside his head, trying his hardest to find a solution, or, an answer. childe ultimately decided to break up with you— of course, in order to protect you.

but what's worse than that is that the harbinger was aware that, if he was to say it's due to "keeping you safe" you wouldn't accept it and would probably change his mind.

the thought alone of you looking at him with those eyes of yours, with droplets of tears hanging from your lashes, childe would fall to his knees immediately and admit defeat.

what does he do then?

you see, he's lying, lying that he's fallen out of love with you, that there was someone else he's fallen for yet that person wasn't you anymore.

he doesn't feel anything when he looks at you. no love, no future, he doesn't want to touch nor feel you, hear or see you.

saying those words out loud, precisely to your face actually broke his heart into a million pieces.

childe thinks he's numb now, and his colleagues were already talking about how weidly ruthless he's gotten over the past weeks— more pitiless and bloodthirsty than before, like he's lost a part of himself after he's lost you, after he pretended like he cheated on you so you would let him go.

childe doesn't care anymore, you were the one reminding him of his humanity, but with you gone, what even was humanity to him?

he doesn't mind that you hate him now, to him it means that you'll never come anywhere near him anymore, he's succeeded with his plan on keeping you protected from harm— meaning, that you're finally safe now.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #childe angst #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tw mention of death #tw breakup #tw lying #tw cheating

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totaly-obsessed · 3 months

Text

Cupid

Lia Wälti x reader

-> Valentine's Day with Lia and your Daughter

-> thank you @babsisbakery for the poem, and thank you @alotofpockets for the dutch translation help and conversation

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Small hands tugged at your ear, ripping you from your very much-needed sleep. Once you saw your daughter’s adorable little eyes and the excited smile on her lips you just couldn’t be mad anymore.

“Mama, we need to start!” In a whisper shout, she bounced up and down, ready to get the day going.

She was right – you did need to start. Together with Amelie, you had planned to treat your fiancée to a wonderful Wednesday. It was Valentine's Day after all.

Still groggy with sleep you let the small blonde pull you out of bed before she gave you a moment to gather yourself, as she handed you slippers that matched hers.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Amelie had already laid out her little apron and quickly pulled it over her pajamas before turning around, gesturing to you to bind it behind her.

“All done my love. Let’s start with the waffles huh?”

Just 20 minutes later a hearty and big breakfast was cooked up, and Amelie nervously grabbed the card you had crafted with her beforehand.

“What if she doesn’t like it, Mama?”

Crouching down in front of the five-year-old got harder the older you got – but never in a million years would you stop doing it.

“That’s impossible my love! Lia loves everything that you make for her. She keeps it in her cubby – you’ve seen it before!”

Technically Ames was only your daughter – but with a no-show father and Lia falling in love with both you and your little companion at first sight, she was her ‘Momie’ in every way the small blonde could wish for.

While Lia had no genetic input whatsoever – Amelia could be and look a lot like her. They had the same kind of smile and funny laugh, but their stare could be terrifying.

“You come with me?”

How could you say no to that face? So together you walked up the stairs, and the once excited five-year-old had turned into a nervous wreck, hiding behind your legs and making herself as heavy as she could.

With a quiet squeak, the door opened as you pushed it, giving your daughter a slight nudge towards the bed, where you could already see Lia trying to spy through her lashes giving it her best to hide a smile.

“Momie?” the pudgy hand that wasn’t holding the card nudged your fiancée – who continued to play dead to the world.

“Momie – wake up please!”

Like in a bad movie Lia suddenly sat up with a big smile, stretching her arms wide with an obviously fake yawn.

“Good Morning Mon petit amour!”

Amelie panicked, or rather froze on the spot – immediately turning to you with wide eyes and Lia just knew that she would flee if nothing happened.

“What do you have there my love?”

A hesitant step towards the bed and the small blonde was close enough for her Momie to grab her. The loud squeal of surprise that filled the room was miles better than the nervous shuffle of feet.

“Wrote it just for you Momie!”

With an exaggerated gasp, the brunette footballer opened the pink envelope to discover a handcrafted card. It was white and on it a big heart, that you had to draw because a certain someone wasn’t happy with her tries and had about five meltdowns because of it. It was filled with little folded-up papers in pink and purple – above the heart she had made you write “I love you to pieces” after you had tried to help with her writing.

On those little papers were reasons why you and Ames loved the Swiss, but if it came to your opinion, there weren’t enough notes in the world that could do the love you held for the woman justice.

“Oh, will you read it to me?” Lia had tears in her eyes once she saw the small poem in wriggly handwriting. She pulled your daughter to her chest, looking at the card together while you snapped some secret pictures. “I’ll help you read them, okay?”

“To Momie,

From many tantrums to always making me laugh,

You are my favorite hero, kicking ass on the pitch

And being my personal chef at home,

And finding time to play with me and my Dinos.

I couldn’t have wished for a better mom.

- Your Ames!”

Lia’s eyes were filled with tears as she pressed kiss after kiss on Amelia's messy hair. Of course, the Swiss knew that you had massively helped her with writing, but Amelia had such a way of speaking that she could definitely recognize it in there.

The five-year-old was proud of herself and whipped her head back from Lia behind you.

“Breakfast now! Come Momie – I made you waffles!”

Due to the rain last week, the fixture against the London City Lioness has been pushed to today. So after spending the day in blissful peace, it was time to go to the game. Wrangling a little excited 5-year-old girl dressed as Cupid into the car was much harder than anticipated, and at some point, Lia had to leave early.

Viv greeted you at the car as you helped Amelie out of the car. She was still a little unsure about her knee, so she opted to sit in the stands, keeping you company. “Wow – Look at you!”

“Vivi! I’m Cupid!”

Dressed in a pink and gold dress, white gloves, and a golden hairband. On her back was a pair of small, white, feathery wings – in her hands a tiny bow with fake arrows that had heart-shaped tips.

“I can see that lieve schat. Let’s get you two inside huh?”

Watching the game with a young child is always a bit different than it would be without – but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Amelia was excited for the first half, screaming her little lungs out when Lia scored from a corner kick off of Katie.

As a celebration, the Swiss imitated pulling back the string of an arrow and letting it go in your direction – effectively sending you a heart accompanied with a wink.

Your relationship was no secret by far, the brunette loved to brag about you and her daughter. And no matter how much she boasted about you, you would always blush – so seeing your already red face on the big screen gave you a fright. Viv and Ames just laughed at you.

During the second half, Amelia was busy reading a book she had brought for her. While she had gotten Lia’s athleticism she had gotten your intense love for books, and once she started, she wouldn’t stop until it was finished. Or at least she wouldn’t stop that easily.

Once the final whistle blew, the Arsenal girls winning 3-0, Viv escorted you down to the pitch – you not knowing the way was her excuse but in reality, she just wanted to see Beth. As soon as Amelia’s feet hit the grass, she was gone running around with Kyra, Alessia, and Victoria.

“Did you see my goal? Scored it just for you!” Lia’s smile was enticing and she didn’t wait long to pull you into a breathtaking kiss, only stopping once Katie fake gagged next to you.

Before she could say what she wanted to a small body slammed into her. Amelia, of course. In her hand, a beautiful white rose that you definitely didn’t bring from home.

“For me? Oh, thank you my personal Cupid, doing such a good job!”

Now down on her knees, the brunette engulfed your daughter in a bear hug – careful not to crush the cupid wings on her back.

“It’s from Rue Rue!”

The five-year-old skipped back to Ruesha Littlejohn who gave her a high five and a piece of candy while Katie could only stare at the rose in her hands. Not even noticing you and Lia nearly collapsing because of laughter.

Cupid had delivered her a rose from Rue Rue, her ex-girlfriend…

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mccabe x reader #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia wälti #lia walti

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Girl rage, girl rage, girl rage!!

CW for Simon being a Jerk and a Creep, mentions of violence and murder, and kidnapping.

One time in high school, there was a boy that wouldn’t leave you alone. You gave him a million chances to knock it off, growing more and more hostile, snapping your teeth. The inappropriate touches in the hall, the lewd comments at lunch breaks, the fucking pictures. Nothing salacious, just long shots of you from afar, trying to go about your day.

One day he reached for your chest and you snapped two of his fingers. His parents wailed that you ruined his rugby career. You told them he should get better at football.

When you’re annoyed, you crack the knuckles of those same fingers on your own hand.

It’s the first thing you do when you wake up in a bare, grey basement, laid on a thin cot on the ground. Pop, pop. Recalibrating your foggy mind.

You don’t quite remember how you got here. Last clear thing is the bar. Doesn’t matter how you got here though, at least for the moment - just that you are here. And you don’t want to be.

You’re handcuffed, chain looped through an exposed pipe above your head. You clink it once, twice. Decide it’s fairly sturdy and take stock of everything else.

Your stomach is a bit tight with nausea - drug induced, you figure. Ugh. And your head aches, nothing a glass of water won’t fix.

But all your clothes are intact, no ache between your thighs or burgeoning bruises on your breasts. No shoes, though. Bummer, you liked those.

You crack the knuckles on your other hand; pop, pop.

You think of the scent of cheap whiskey, shattered glass, policemen wrapping you in a shock blanket. Remember your date chocking on his own vomit in a dark alley, then someone much bigger and stronger grabbing you as you tried to leave.

Hm.

The pipes are warm. You settle back against them and wait.

—

You don’t scream when Simon enters the basement. Don’t make a single peep. You shift against the pipes, tucking your feet under you as he approaches. Your eyes are so big, rounded as you peer up at him through your lashes.

“Such a smart girl,” he coos, “staying quiet for me. Or are you just that scared?”

You blink at him, the tiniest indent dimpling your bottom lip from your teeth. He crouches down in front of you, arms balanced on his knees. You’re curled up so small. He wants to bundle you in his lap, tuck you away.

“It’s alright, little one,” he soothes. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You twitch a bit, the metal cuffs clicking together. He flicks his eyes to them, sighs.

“Those are so that you don’t do something stupid,” he explains patiently. “Like you did earlier.”

A little furrow of confusion creases your brows. He exhales, amused despite himself. So precious, his girl. Like you can’t fathom why he would be upset with you.

“Going out with a strange man.”

He tuts, feels that black rage simmering again, same he felt when he realized you and that slime were no longer at the bar.

“He almost hurt you in that alley,” he reminds, “had he not been so drunk he tripped over his own fucking feet.”

He takes a second to breathe, fingers twitching. They feel too dry, too clean. He was so worried about getting you home that he had no time to bother taking care of that scum.

“I tried to let you have your fun, baby. I really did. But I can’t — I can’t anymore. The world is far too dangerous.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down your cheek, coos at the little shudder that runs through you. “And you’ve proven that you can’t take care of yourself.”

Your lips part. Shock, confusion, protest. It doesn’t matter, he’s more distracted feeling the soft give of your plush bottom lip beneath his thumb, bitten pink.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he soothes. “I’ll take care of you from now on.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dropping your head to your arm. He hums.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. This is for the best, I promise.”

You sniffle a bit, blink wet eyes open. Wet your lips with the tip of your pretty pink tongue.

“What… what do I call you?” you ask, voice soft and raspy.

Oh, such a sweet thing. Such a sweet, clever girl. You’re going to be so, so good for him.

“Just Ghost for now, luv. Let me get you some water, you’ve earned it.”

—

You exhale slow and soft, counting every fourth heartbeat. If you don’t, you’ll start trying to break things. The smart money is on your bones giving before that stupid pipe. So. Breathing it is.

You’ve never felt out of control in anger. Everything is always so sharp and clear, you think and move with a precision you usually can’t coax from mind or body.

This… Ghost, though.

It was a pleasant surprise that he didn’t realize what you did in the alley. Too dark, perhaps. Too quiet. Perhaps he thought you were fleeing in fear.

It’s an advantage you can’t squander. He’s much bigger than you, much stronger. Carries himself with posture and purpose reminiscent of military or former military bearing. There’s a physicality to the way he moves that echos violence.

You know that you will only get one proper shot to escape. There is no point wasting it on shouting and cursing and snarling. Even if he did only consider it bluster and bark, it would plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Make him careful and conscious of any slip ups.

Sometimes, rabid animals appear friendly or docile. The virus gets a new victim close enough to turn and bite, spreading and infecting.

You run your tongue over your teeth, imagine the taste of blood if you’d bitten through his thumb like you wanted to. Inhale and exhale again, start the counter over.

Pause to resist another sneeze, blinking past watery eyes and sniffling it away. Christ, he couldn’t have at least cleaned the basement before chaining you up down here? Could barely focus on his ridiculous monologue through the allergies.

Not that you think you missed much; and you’re sure you’ll be hearing it again.

He’s just like every other man you’ve ever killed, you muse, settling in again. And it’ll be so, so sweet watching the blood bloom.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #rabid reader #simon ghost riley #simon x reader #kidnapper ghost #ghost x reader

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blueicequeen19 · 5 months

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A Million Reasons

Warnings: theft, coercion, non-con/dub-con, overstimulation, forced orgasms, face fucking, anal play, oral, creampie, the works..

I couldn’t contain my smile as I plopped down in my new comfy chair in my new shiny apartment that I drove to in my new fancy car. It didn’t matter how I’d come into the money. What mattered is I wouldn’t be waiting tables at the fucking country club anymore, serving arrogant Kooks over priced alcohol and barely making shit from tips. This was all mine now. Paid off and no one could take it from me.

I had a five year plan now and nothing was going to stop me. I was going to go full Kook and make every one of those dumb motherfuckers look me in the eye when they realized I had more money than they did. They would respect me one way or another.

I grinned as I logged onto my new computer to pull up my accounts when suddenly there was a knock on my door that startled me so bad I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was almost midnight. Who would be here? I slowly got up and made my way to the door, my gun already laying on the table. I checked the peep hole but the person - a guy - had his head down.

What the fuck? I unlocked the door and it was suddenly shoved open, knocking me back on my ass before I could snatch my gun off the end table. I moved to jump back up to my feet when I realized who was in my apartment and smiling at me.

“Hi doll, how’s the new place?” He smirked, dropping a duffle bag onto the floor and not taking his eyes off me as he locked the door back. I was too stunned to speak, let alone move. My eyes moved to the gun but he snatched it up, tucking it in the back of his fucking khakis.

“This is a nice place. You did good? What did this put you back?” His blue eyes take in everything as he side steps me and ventures deeper into my apartment. I eye the door but I can’t run. He’s here because he knows what I did. I slowly rise to my feet, hating that I’m in a pair of booty shorts and oversized shirt as I turn to face him.

“I like the car too. That had to be at least fifty grand. And I’m sure this place is well over two grand a month unless you bought the place out right. I guess I could rent it out and flip the profits if I don’t decide to stay here.” He rambles on, tilting his head back to look at the vaulted ceiling.

“What do you want?” I finally find the strength to speak, my heart in my throat as his bright eyes level on me again.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What do you have that could be even remotely worth me keeping silent and not turning your ass in?” His voice hardens, that playful look long gone.

I bite my lip, my nails biting into my palms as I fight to remain calm. There was no use lying.

“How did you know it was me?”

“That stole my card information and hacked over a million dollars like it was chump change?!” I back up, his voice growing louder as he moves towards me, that look in his eyes becoming more sinister by the second, the ruse finally fading.

“It was easy. I just followed the scent of someone with new money. Someone not being cautious of their spending and paying with big items in cash.” He lunges with a growl, cutting off my scream as his hand wraps around my throat. I fight and he knocks us both onto the couch, pinning me beneath his weight. I lash out with my nails, clawing his cheek and he snarls, shifting his weight more onto my chest so I struggle to breathe. I fight harder when I feel the bulge in his pants. The sick fuck was hard.

“You feel that? Who knew I could get so hard from someone not fawning over me?” He taunts, leaning down to press his lips to my cheek.

“Girls are always tripping over one another just for a chance to suck my dick but not you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I wheeze, tilting my face away when he leans in too close. It’s like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me when he throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh, wow, you’re funny. I’m going to have so much fun with you in MY new apartment.” He shimmies down my body, pinning me with weight and keeping his mouth dangerously close to my own.

“You can have it back. You can have it all back. I don’t care.” I bite out, slipping my hand out from under his weight in an attempt to slap him but he catches it and pins both my wrists above my head.

“We’re way fucking past that. Now I’m looking for payment.” His eyes rake over my body as his free hand comes up to tease my nipple through my shirt, making it harden.

“Stop—.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start. You’re fucking exquisite.” He chuckles, burying his face in the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. I whimper, his free hand still playing with my nipple. I needed to get the upper hand. I needed him to think I was defeated.

“Ugh, fine fuck me. Fuck me and get out. Punish me, do whatever you need to do then leave.” I snap, hating the way my body heats as he sucks on the skin of my neck.

“Whatever I need to do, hmm?” A hum leaves his lips before he bites me and I cry out, my thighs squeezing together as my core tightens.

Suddenly, he’s off me and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He’s no longer crushing me under his weight yet I still can’t catch my breath.

“Strip. Show me what I paid for.” He throws an arm over the back of the couch, spreading his legs wide and looking every bit the entitled Kook he is.

“You didn’t pay for—.”

“Strip. Now.” His harsh words have me jumping to my feet on shaky limbs and quickly yanking my shirt over my head, the cold air hardening my nipples into painful points. My skin flushes under his intense blue gaze as he eyes me like a prize. Like he’s never seen a topless woman before.

“Not too bad. A solid handful. I can live with that.” He says, like he’s buying me from a grocery store. I grit my teeth, moving to cover myself but he gives a single shake of his head.

“Don’t you dare cover up. Remove the rest.” I try to look anywhere but the prominent erection in his pants or his hungry gaze as I slide my sleep shorts and panties down in one go. I kick them away but not before he sees the wet spot my traitorous pussy left in my panties.

“Fuck you.” I growl as his smirk grows and he palms his dick through his pants.

“No, baby girl, fuck you. Spin for me. Show me that ass.” I turn away quickly at the sound of his belt being unbuckled, my skin covered in goosebumps. I was so cold but hot at the same time. My clit was throbbing painfully and I hated it.

When I face him again, he’s still wearing that smug smirk but with his pants hanging open and his dick still safely tucked away.

“I could tie you up and just play with you for fucking hours.” He practically moans, his eyes washing over me like a warm caress. God, I hated this. I was painfully turned on and humiliated at the same time.

“Would you just—.”

“Lay down on the couch and spread your legs. If you kick me, I’ll tie your legs to your chest with my fucking belt.” Part of me wants to kick him just so he can make good on his threat but I refuse to give him the satisfaction as I lower myself onto the opposite end of the couch.

I barely get my legs spread and he’s moving between them on his stomach, his hands hot on my skin as he spreads my pussy lips wide.

“Mmm, nothing like the smell of desperation.” His eyes light up with mischief and I debate actually kicking him until his tongue suddenly swipes up my slit and my brain turns to mush.

“Fuckkkkk.” He growls against flesh, his hands tightening on my inner thighs as he tastes me again.

“Oh—fuck—.” I’m trembling uncontrollably, my body on fire and no longer under my control. He keeps cursing and mumbling praises but I can barely hear him as he feasts on me like he’ll die if he doesn’t. When he sucks my clit into his mouth and curls a single finger inside me, my back bows and I see stars. My orgasm is on the tips of my toes but he stops, pulling back with a laugh.

“Not so fast. You don’t get to cum anytime soon. I don’t care how good you taste.” He stands and quickly strips until he’s as naked as I am, his cock hard and leaking with need. I try not to stare but he’s so goddamn long.. and thick. I’m almost worried. I can’t even check to see where he’s placed the gun..

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit wherever it goes.” My worry dissolves into anger again and I narrow my eyes, attempting to get up only for him to shove me back down and straddle me. I’m confused until he moves onto my chest, his knees holding most of his weight as he positions his cock in front of my mouth.

“Do I need to warn you what will happen if you bite me?” He says, using the swollen tip to smear precum all over my lips.

“I don’t think I can—.”

“Breathe through your nose.” He pushes his cock firmly against my lips.

“You’re too—.”

“You can take it.” My jaw pops as I’m forced to open and let him down my throat. I gag immediately around the smooth length of him, tears filling my eyes as he reaches the back of my throat and holds it there.

I can’t even push against him because my arms are pinned beneath him. It takes everything in me to keep from retching.

“Fuck, that’s not even all of it. Look at you struggling. Do you regret stealing from me yet?” His eyes are hooded and his breathing heavy as he slides partly out and thrusts back inside my mouth, making me continue to gag.

“You will by the time I’m done with you.” His words have my chest tightening, afraid of what I’ve gotten myself into as he starts to fuck my mouth like he would a toy.

“Fuck, yes. You’ll be a pro in no time. That feels so fucking good.” His breathy moan has me trying to squeeze my legs shut but he reaches back, slapping my thighs apart and starts to play with my clit. I buck beneath him, humming around his cock as I try to speak. I can’t do this. I can’t handle it. Tears fill my eyes every time he pulls back enough for me to catch a breath only to force his way deeper down my throat all while rubbing my clit.

“If you cum, you’ll regret it.” He growls, scaring me while also giving me a thrill of what if? I stick out my tongue to try and make room in my mouth but he only moans louder, thrusting harder before slapping my pussy. I cry out around his length, gagging and trying to breathe.

“Get ready to swallow.” My eyes widen and suddenly he’s deep down my throat, holding his cock in place as he cums. I gag but he only groans louder, shooting his hot cum right down my throat so I have no choice but to swallow. My vision is spotty when he finally pulls out, my face streaked with tears and my throat on fire. I’d never been face fucked before and I’m given no opportunity to recover as he quickly flips me onto my stomach and comes down on my back. My cheeks are spread and he’s licking me from front to back, my body trembling with the need for release.

“P-please—.” I croak, arching into him as his tongue penetrates my pussy. I moan into the couch, my core burning with need. When his tongue moves higher, my eyes snap open but I’m unable to stop him from forcing his tongue inside my unused hole. A broken cry leaves my lips and I try to lift up only for him to shove me back down.

“Keep begging. Let me hear it, you little thief.” His voice is thick with need as he moves up my back, his cock resting against my ass.

“Please.. Rafe..” I whine, feeling him reach between us to guide his cock to my pussy.

“So you do know my name.” He chuckles, stealing my breath as he slips just the tip inside me. My body tightens and he curses, pushing down on the center of my back.

“Remember my fucking name when you cum. I want to hear you scream it.” His threat barely registers before he buries himself deep inside me with one go. I cry out, my pussy forced to stretch to accommodate his size.

“Goddamn.” Rafe bites out, rising up on one knee and keeping his hand on the center of my back as he starts to fuck me slowly.

“You’re swallowing me so fucking good. Sucking me in nice and deep. So wet and tight.” My nails bite into the cushion, my hips lifting on their own as his pace increases. The burning quickly subsides and pleasure washes over me as I moan loud and helplessly.

I hear him spit then his thumb is pressing inside my ass, triggering my orgasm as I scream into the cushion.

“Dirty fuckin slut.” Rafe chuckles, not slowing his rhythm until one orgasm turns to two and my release drips onto the couch. It becomes too much and I quickly try to pull away, pleading as best I can but he refuses to let me go.

“We’re not done so fucking take it. I want to see you break.” Another finger enters my ass as he pounds my sore pussy, an explosive orgasm wrecking me until tears stream down my face.

“Rafe— please—.” I sob, his mocking laugh reaching my ear but I’m too far gone to be pissed off anymore. He gives me a moment to rest when he pulls out and drags me onto his lap, impaling me on his cock so I’m facing him and forced to ride him.

“I can’t..” I cry, my entire body trembling as he begins to move me himself, his cock practically in my stomach.

“Should’ve thought about that.” He smacks my ass, digging his fingers in and squeezing the flesh as he thrusts up into me. My hands tighten on the back of the couch as we move in sync, his cock stroking something deep inside me to the point I’m practically mush in his hands, his throaty moans music to my ears.

It’s not until I feel my hand brush something metal that my eyes snap open and I see the gun laying on the end table against the back of the couch.

I don’t think before snatching it up and wedging it under Rafe’s chin, making him look up at me. My lips tip up in a snarl while his form a smirk, his blue eyes lost in a blissed out haze.

“Stop.” I bite out, blinking past the pleasure deep in my core. He was so deep like this. I could almost cum again.

“Stop what? You’re riding me. I’m not moving.” Rafe says with a breathless smile. My body freezes when I realize he’s right and he groans as I tense around his length.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum deep inside you.” Rafe moans, adding to that fire deep in my belly. There was something so hot about a man being vocal during sex.

“You like that? The thought of me filling you with cum make your pussy throb? Or is it the thrill of the gun? You could kill me right now and my cock would still be hard. One or two more pumps and I’d still finish inside you.”

“Shut. Up.” His words make me break out in a sweat, his cock throbbing deep inside me. I don’t doubt that he’s telling the truth.

“Seems like a waste to not finish, don’t you think?” Rafe’s blue eyes sparkle up at me as his hands find my hips and he delivers a hard thrust to my core. I cry out, my eyes threatening to flutter as fire ignites deep within me.

“You want me to finish.” Rafe taunts, sliding one hand up to grip my throat as he begins rolling his hips until my eyes nearly cross. He was too deep and stroking my g-spot while I held a gun to his chin. My body began to tremble as another orgasm raced forward, the gun shaking in my hand.

“Cum all over my cock. I know you want to.” Black spots dot my vision as he tightens his hand around my throat, stealing my ability to breathe and giving me the most intense orgasm of my life. The gun is snatched from my fingers then he’s pounding into me with vigor, grunting and moaning as he empties himself inside me.

My eyes barely manage to stay open as he lifts me so he can stand then my back meets the couch, his cock never leaving my pussy. His lips find the shell of my ear as I try to wrap my brain around what just happened..

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, roomie.” My body stiffens and he groans, rolling his hips and making me whimper.

“This.. isn’t..”

“You didn’t think once was worth a million dollars, did you? Because I plan on thoroughly using this pussy. Call it interest on my new investment.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #obx2 #rafe cameron smut #rafe angst #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #dark rafe cameron #tw dark theme #tw dark themes #dark content #obx imagine #blueicequeen19 #drew starkey smut

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theemporium · 4 months

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[1.9k] sometimes it isn't easy being the fourth hughes' sibling. sometimes the pressure to compete with your brothers gets overwhelming. sometimes you just need a tall, hot swiss man to reassure you in the hidden crevices of a bar in jersey.

first nico fic completely influenced by @httplando

There was nobody in the world that was prouder of your brothers than you were.

It took an insane amount of skill, talent and effort to even reach college level. To be scouted and sought after, to gain the attention of coaches in much higher leagues than the kids’ team in middle school. To play for a college, to gain the attraction of professional teams, to be drafted into the NHL. It was fucking insane for one brother to reach all those goals, let alone all three.

But that was exactly what Quinn, Jack and Luke had done.

All three of them shared a dream and all three of them have achieved it. And you genuinely could not be happier for them. You saw everything behind the scenes. You saw the work they put into it, the countless hours of training and practicing to hone that raw talent into pure skill. You know exactly what each of them sacrificed to achieve their goal of playing for the NHL.

And yet, despite how genuinely happy and proud you were, it fucking sucked to be their sister because everything you did felt inadequate in comparison.

Nobody in your family ever consciously went out of their way to make you feel that way. Never in a million fucking years would they ever pull something like that. But it didn’t mean that you didn’t have these feelings, that you didn’t feel that pit of bitterness and something equally as ugly and self-deprecating burning inside you whenever your parents would gush over your brothers.

“My boys,” Ellen cooed, reaching to place her hand on Quinn’s cheek, considering he was the closest to her. “You all played so well.”

Quinn let out a small scoff. “Yeah right.”

“Hey, just because you didn’t win, doesn’t mean you didn’t play well,” Jim had retorted with a light nudge of his shoulder.

“Couldn’t beat us this time, captain,” Jack commented, a wolfish grin on his face as he gave his older brother a mock salute that made Luke snort.

Quinn’s eyes narrowed, but there was a smile on his face. “Next time I’ll get your asses.”

Luke grinned. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Regardless of who won,” Ellen spoke up, a reprimanding look on her face that managed to shut the three of them up in seconds. “I’m proud of all three of my boys, living their dream and being the damn best in the league.”

“To the Hughes boys!” Jim jokingly toasted, lifting his glass in the air and the rest of you joined and clinked your drinks together.

And you know. God, you fucking know that none of it was a personal jab towards you in any way, shape or form. But it was hard to fucking deny the sting you felt as your parents gushed over your brothers. It hurt when you realised there wasn’t really much to gush over when it came to you.

You had made up some shitty excuse about needing to pee when you felt the tightness in your chest. You hadn’t given any of them a chance to be concerned about your abrupt departure. You didn’t even utter a single word as you pushed your way through the crowd of the bar, the establishment heaving with members and fans from both teams. You didn’t even glance at the girl who swore at you when you barged your shoulder against her a little harsher than intended as you pushed past the toilets and into a small alcove instead.

All you could focus on was the band wrapped around your chest, getting tighter and tighter with each breath. All you could focus on was the way your lash line welled with tears that would ultimately make your mascara run. All you could focus on was the thoughts rushing through your head, far too fast for you to even fully keep up.

All you could focus on was the fact you really weren’t okay.

You didn’t even look up when you heard a door swing open from one of the bathrooms. You didn’t look up when you heard footsteps. You didn’t look up—or even realise—there was someone standing a few metres away until you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, are you okay there?”

And despite the whirling thoughts and panicked breaths, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to. And when you finally lifted your head, the shield of hair finally exposing you to the person, you could see the exact moment Nico Hischier realised it was you.

And it took a few seconds to realise just what a state you were in.

You felt your cheeks prickle in embarrassment. You could feel the way your entire face heated up and your stomach dropped a little at the fact Nico of all people—your brothers’ captain and the man you thought about in ways that you never should—was seeing you like this.

“Woah, hey,” he muttered out, a frown curved onto his lips as he quickly closed the distance between you two.

And he was overwhelming. So fucking overwhelming in a way that had your head spinning for so many different reasons. It should have felt suffocating when he squished into the small alcove of the hallway with you, especially someone of his height and build.

But it wasn’t.

It was almost comforting, or maybe that was just how Nico was. You had seen it plenty of times with his teammates, the way he wrapped his arm around them the second they were targeted on the ice or being chirped at by the rivalling team. You watched the way he would calm them down, hold his ground, keep everything in control.

Maybe that’s what made him such a good captain.

“I-I’m sorry,” you managed to blubber out, a sad excuse for a laugh escaping your lips as you tried to pretend your lungs weren’t burning for some air. “I’m okay!”

But he didn’t look convinced.

“Is this okay?” His voice was soothing, calming almost.

You blinked, taking a few seconds to realise he had lifted his hands from his sides and another few seconds to realise what he was asking before you dumbly nodded your head.

You blinked again, and Nico’s hands were cupping—almost engulfing—your face as his thumbs softly swiped away the tears falling down your cheeks. You watched the way his eyebrows furrowed together in concern, his cheeks flushed from whatever he had been drinking to celebrate the Devils’ win.

“Did something happen?” He asked, so gentle in the way he spoke like he didn’t want to spook you.

“Just…thinking,” you replied with a weak smile, your breathing still a little erratic and uncertain—and he seemed to notice.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured, taking in a deep breath and giving you a pointed look until you followed his lead. “Just like that, schatz, that’s it.”

Your eyes never left his as you copied his movements, as you took deep breaths until the band around your chest seemed to ease and the burn in your lungs was long gone. Your eyes never left him as his eyes wandered over you, almost like he was double checking you were in fact okay and not physically hurt in any way, shape or form.

“It hurts,” you whispered, catching the boy’s attention as his eyes snapped up to look at you. “It hurts when I realise I can’t really compete with my brothers. Quinn is a captain, Jack is one of the best players in the league, Luke is killing his rookie season and here I am, not even sure what I want to major in and I—”

“Hey, hey,” Nico quickly interrupted when he realised your breathing was starting to pick up again. His thumbs continued to run soothing circles over the apples of your cheek, though the frown on his face remained. “You don’t have to compete with them.”

“I know but,” you paused for a moment, and he waited as you tried to gather the words. “They are them. They are the professional hockey players. They’ve known what they wanted to be since they were practically born and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.”

“And that’s okay,” Nico assured you, and it felt a little ironic coming from another professional hockey player.

You shook your head, letting out another laugh. “And I don’t even know why I am telling you any of this because you probably want to go and celebrate your win. I mean, you do not need to be standing here and listening to my stupid problems—”

“I don’t mind,” Nico said, a soft smile on his lips. “And they aren’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, schatz.”

He was your brothers’ teammate. Forget that, he was literally Jack and Luke’s captain. You had known him for as long as Jack was a part of the team. You had known him as long as he had been friends with your brothers. And yet despite in that time, you could count on one hand the amount of interactions you’ve had with the boy by yourself.

And yet, here he was, standing in front of you with his hands holding your face and a smile that made your chest feel tight all over again. He was looking at you like your feelings were valid, like he understood. He was looking at you in a way that so many people never could. In that moment, you didn’t feel like the fourth Hughes’ sibling—you just felt like you.

But before you could even let the voice in the back of your head urging you to let the overwhelming emotions take over, the sound of your brothers’ voices snapped you out of whatever daze you were in.

“God, how long does it take for her to pee?” Jack.

“I don’t know, she’s a girl. Maybe it takes them longer.” Luke.

“You both are so fucking stupid.” Quinn.

“I should go,” you whispered to Nico, and something in your stomach clenched as though you were about to be caught doing something scandalous. A part of you wished that was the case. “I’m sorry you had to—”

But Nico shook his head, his smile a comfort as he took a step back. “Don’t apologise.”

“Right,” you murmured as you gave him a shaky smile. “I’ll…see you later?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’ll see you later, schatz.”

You had quickly stepped out of the alcove before you could embarrass yourself further, finding yourself face to face with your three brothers who were busier bickering than realising you hadn’t even exited the bathroom.

You felt like your body was on autopilot for the rest of the night, but your eyes kept wandering in hopes of finding a certain someone. In hopes that you could see him with your own two eyes and confirm that the feel of his hands on your skin was, in fact, real. In hopes that maybe he was seeking you out too.

And something in your stomach twisted in delight when your eyes met his across the bar, a grin on his lips that felt more easy-going and teasing than the soft smiles he had given you earlier. And some part of you knew that even if your interactions with the captain had been limited beforehand, something in the air shifted the second he placed his hands on you.

Because you had an inkling feeling that tonight wouldn’t be the last time you found yourself hidden in a secret place with the Swiss man, and something quite like hope sparked inside you that maybe the years of secretly crushing on your brother’s teammate was going to turn into something more.

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