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#to fabricating a piece of reality
nerdie-faerie · 11 months
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They're married, no further questions
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lizard-dumbass · 11 months
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I did a fitting on a shirt im making that has a very high neckline/standing collar and now im nauseous
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plead-au · 1 month
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i had just imagined an AU where a way smaller (maybe around 3-6) group of objects get on Befallen Iris somehow, and they kinda just. start inhabiting it and making it their new home, because they don't know how they're gonna get out, neither do we, so why not make another home there?
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starfoam · 1 year
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//Which is really funny bc I've decided a big problem Lo's going to have once she goes on her Big Space Adventure is that the universe does, in fact, love her very much, but does not yet know how to express it in ways that aren't fuck-off terrifying
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praeluxius · 4 months
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pas de deux - IVE An Yujin (ft. Jang Wonyoung)
Part 1 of folie à deux.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
18+ An Yujin (and Jang Wonyoung) x Male Reader smut
Masterlist Word Count: 7,727
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folie à deux - folly (madness) of two pas de deux - a dance for two
It's survival—that's how you mask it.
It's the hard reality you tell yourself to justify being the pseudo-servant to these two girls, just to make the year as easy as possible so you can graduate. Playing their games. Never questioning their words or actions. The house of cards they've built is fragile but they keep it in check.
Somehow, you're one of the cards, one wall of the house. You've only been in the school a month. The fresh-faced transfer who fell into the grasp of the two girls who practically run the place. You can't deny it has its benefits. Like every one of Yujin and Wonyoung's friends, no one ever questions anything and you would never run the risk of falling into the bad books of school bullies.
Oh, and you also get to fuck Wonyoung senseless.
Luckily, the walls of the library are thick, everyone else is in class and the library door is locked. Or someone would have heard the squirming Wonyoung moaning expletives by now.
"Harder." Her nails threaten to pierce the skin. Claws gripped to your forearm. Her words are sharper still, cutting through the air with the same lethality as her looks. "Stop, stop, stop. Hand, there. Circles, remember. And go fucking harder will you?" You position as instructed, how you know she likes it. There's no room for creative freedom here—it's Wonyoung's way or it's no way.
But, god. She knows exactly how to break you—just enough that when she puts you back together, your mismatched pieces slot perfectly into her shape, allowing her to completely mould and manipulate you at her will, at her whim. And oh, does she love when you let her.
"That's it, there. Yes!" Wonyoung presses the heel of her foot into the small of your back, pushing you further in, urging you closer and deeper, drawing a hoarse groan from her throat. She's sprawled flat on the desk, on the second floor of the library. You're looking over the balcony, down at the empty room. It's almost monotonous, it happens at the same time every week. Hidden in the same top corner of the same library, at the same time on the same day. You've got her legs spread and your cock in her cunt.
Your fingers are digging into her thighs, pinning her hips to the desk. You don't falter once, going exactly as fast, exactly as hard, and exactly as deep as she likes it. Her movements are in tune with yours. Familiarity. Wonyoung's perfectly groomed eyebrows are furrowed, heart-shaped lips pursed, eyes scrunched shut.
"You're close, right? I can feel it..." Your words come out ragged and laboured. This isn't supposed to feel good for you, you aren't supposed to have an opinion. It's her own fantasy—an excuse for her to let herself get fucked like a little whore without question or consequence—your body's just along for the ride. You're not an actor in the scene, not a participant. You are the means to an end; a character-prop. Something to be used by the main character. To further her plot.
She responds with a shaky mewl that turns into a string of frantic cries, her slender, legs locking around you.
It ends how it always ends.
She cums. Hard.
You don't. Too messy, she says. You can't cum inside, you can't cum on her and you can't just cum on the library desk. Too risky and unhygienic. It's almost cute watching her try to cover up her gasp and squeal as she rides her high, biting down onto her soft sleeve, probably tearing through a layer of fabric with her pearly whites.
That's just how it is with Wonyoung.
***
"There you are!" Yujin is by your side and snaking her arm around yours, holding you just above the elbow and leaning against you. "Where's Wony?"
"Probably halfway down the highway by now, her boyfriend picked her up fifteen minutes ago," you explain as if it's the most normal thing in the world that Wonyoung hopped off your cock and into her boyfriend's car in the space of ten minutes. But that’s the life she lives—you live.
"You can take me straight home then, let's go." Yujin smiles up at you with her signature grin and those half-moon eyes. If Wonyoung were the definition of danger, Yujin was still just that, but wrapped up in cotton wool and given to a puppy. Her playful expression could melt even the hardest heart, and yet, thanks to her money, she too could get away with just about anything.
At least Yujin made your life easier. There was a little more give and take in your friendship—unlike with Wonyoung.
Still, you wonder exactly how the two of them do it. The whole school around their little fingers. The teachers—they overlook Wonyoung's little indiscretions as soon as the excuses leave her pretty little mouth, so convincing is her act. And then there's Yujin, she—
"You bitch!" In sync, you and Yujin look away from each other and towards the two young ladies holding each other by handfuls of hair. You don't know either of them, but they are blocking the way to your car.
"What's going on here?" asks Yujin, speaking louder than normal to ensure that her voice breaks through the constant bickering. The voices quieten and the hands release their grips, albeit somewhat reluctantly.
The pair turn to you both as they both speak at the same time. "This whore took my earrings!" One points at the other.
"Yeah? These are my earrings. How dense can you be?" one fires back, clearly pissed off, making exaggerated hand gestures for emphasis.
"Bitch, they belong to me! Stop taking things that aren’t yours, you slut! This is you and Jisun’s boyfriend all over again!"
"Ladies, please," Yujin says calmly, in just those two words she captivates attention. "You girls are friends, right?" She doesn’t give time for a response. "Well, if you're really friends, you'll sit and talk about this instead of pulling each other's hair. And if I'm being totally honest, those earrings don't exactly look worth the effort."
They lower their fists slowly, looking a little less angry now and more embarrassed to be told off. You half expect a little, "yes, mother" and an apology from them.
"Great!" Yujin says after some silence. She tugs gently on your arm, strutting between the two girls with you in tow. They stand and watch as you pass by. You only get a step or two past them before Yujin stops.
She turns to face the girls, still staring wide-eyed at the two of you. "Actually, aren't you girls forgetting something? You owe us both an apology."
The two exchange glances, looking surprised by the statement. "Wh-what for?" one asks, eyes darting nervously between you and her friend, who seems equally puzzled.
"For being in our way." The pair look around and suddenly notice the small crowd around you, phones pulled out, cameras glaring. They pale almost immediately. And you can see that they know this only ends one way. Because no one says no to Yujin.
The girls nervously get down on their knees and bow their heads. "I-I'm sorry!"
"We're sorry!"
"Excuse us!"
"Please forgive us!" They're flustered, apologizing to you and Yujin as though their lives depend on it. It feels like forever has passed when Yujin finally laughs and turns away.
"Have a lovely evening, ladies," she says in a tone sweeter than sugar, leaving the girls kneeling and guiding you again towards your car.
For all intents and purposes, these two girls are fucking crazy.
Delusional.
folie à deux
***
"You will stay and eat. I insist." It's ever so clear where she gets it from. Just like his daughter, Yujin's father simply would not take "no" for an answer. You know that really, you have no choice but the lock the car and follow Yujin up the steps into her house.
"Make sure our guest is comfortable." He glances at the maid to signal her. You notice a flinch, though only passing—the girl is nervous. No one can relax when they're in the presence of an Ahn. After his instruction, he walks into the door without another word.
You make the climb Yujin had not two minutes earlier, up the stairs and into the front door of the house, through the door left open, which the maid closes behind you.
The mansion's interior is exactly what you expect—luxurious, opulent and vast. But where you thought there might be a hint of the gaudy and tacky, there is only tasteful, expensive decorating, the finest of furniture, and grandeur befitting the family who owns it. As always, there's not a thing out of place.
Yujin's at the top of the stairs. She has already swapped out her formal blouse for a comfortable t-shirt, but she still wears the pleated skirt she did before, sitting just above the knee. "Couldn't escape father then? I think he likes you."
"He doesn't show it if he does." You shrug.
"He didn't wave you away without a word. That means he likes you." Yujin speaks as she walks down the stairs towards you. Off somewhere to your right, you hear the busywork of the kitchen, preparing the food he insisted you eat. "It's funny because I can't think why..."
She mocks you in the way she always does, with a grin on her face.
"It must be my wit, charm, personality, and incredible looks," you tell her with a wry smile.
"Huh... I didn't know my dad was gay."
"Shame he's not really my type." It's your turn to grin now.
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that's an understatement. I know your type."
"Maybe you do," you say while climbing the stairs to meet her at the top.
She stares you down for a moment and you wait for her latest quip. She eventually looks over your shoulder, down the stairs to the maid. Yujin informs her, "We will eat in the upstairs lounge."
***
"And Gaeul, did you hear?" Yujin can barely contain her excitement as she slams her chopsticks on the table. The conversation had been flowing for a while now, mostly from Yujin as she fills you in with all the recent gossip on people you barely know.
"Which one is she again?" This one you already know, but you always enjoy the way she describes and introduces her friends. It’s so often so unserious.
"Kim Gaeul, the one in my dance class." Yujin pauses. Her eyes roll. "You know the one. Short hair, even shorter skirt. Cute smile, even cuter ass?"
That would probably narrow it down.
"Okay, but what about her?"
"Well you know that guy she's dating? The German guy?" The love lives of Yujin's friends are a bit of a blur. The more you hear about them, the less sense it all makes. "He proposed!"
"They are that serious?"
"Very! I guess it was love at first sight. Gaeul certainly saw something she liked."
"They're still young. It's a big commitment."
"But, if you want something, you should take it," Yujin affirms.
"Just like a criminal," you joke.
Yujin giggles. Something is charming about Yujin's laughter. There's an innocence and lightheartedness to her that brings you a sense of tranquillity. Suddenly, a weight rests on your shoulder. A chin nestles into the side of your neck. Warm, moist air fills your ear, "Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Life's too short to wait around and hesitate."
The weight and air vanish, and suddenly you feel cold. Yujin's French perfume lingers in your nose. "And it's good for her right, she must be getting fucked a lot." Yujin continues as normal as though the moment never happened. She picks up a piece of meat between her chopsticks, taking care not to get the sauce all over her. She brings it closer to her lips, smiling ever so slyly the whole way.
Yujin takes a drink before she continues, “and so Rei said to her that…”
She continues onto rest of the story and the many more after which you don’t really pay attention to, the moment before still lingering on your mind.
***
"As delicious as always." The two of you had spent at least an hour in the upstairs lounge, eating as you talked, catching up with events, and then talking about nothing in particular.
The maid bows at your compliment before taking away the tray of leftovers and leaving the room.
Yujin lay her arms over her chest as she leans back into the couch. Her eyes roll as her head falls to the side, staring over at the bookcase behind you.
"I hate reading." You can hear her disgust in her tone. "Dull, pointless, useless, boring..."
Yujin stops, eyes fixed upon you. Her eyebrows pull together with curiosity. "But you must love it, right?"
"There are worse hobbies."
She gives a thin-lipped grin, unconvinced. Yujin tilts her head to the other said, hair thrown over her head to settle on the other side, "do you, though? Because you and Wonyoung spend a lot of time in the library."
She knows. Of course she knows.
"Just studying." You smile weakly and give an awkward laugh, running your hand through your hair. 
"Wonyoung doesn't study." She says that flatly, cutting the air. Yujin may well be the only person in the school who dares to question the actions of her best friend. She has no interest in playing along with the lie.
You sit in silence. Any excuse would only be an insult to her intelligence.
"You're lucky really," she muses, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the frilled edge of her skirt. Yujin makes a conscious effort to cross her long legs, exposing the small expanse of creamy flesh where the skin between the hem and knee socks met.
"Why is that?" you ask, with eyes fixed firmly on the tantalising flesh.
"Every other guy in school would kill for an hour alone with Wonyoung." Yujin purred.
"A bit drastic. They want what any young, single man would want."
"Hmm, those poor things are a second away from cumming in their pants just being in the same room as her."
Yujin gave a delightful, innocent-girl smile, contrasting with her crass language. She wore her angel-like grin with a devil's look. "Not you though. Which is exactly why she wants you."
"Why?" Your eyes flicker to the floor, away from Yujin. The thoughts circle.
"Like I said: they're far too eager for her to respect them, but not you. No." She spoke clearly, firmly. "The way you stare at her, it's almost as if you don't care that much for her."
"Not sure I understand. She is a friend, I care." you admit.
"But you don't beg it like the other boys do. She must find that attractive about you, not being desperate, but still willing." Her legs uncross slowly, tortuously so, pulling her legs apart ever so slightly. She smooths the crease of the pleats over her thighs.
You sense a chance to turn the wind and sail the conversation in Yujin's direction. "What about you? The one boy from art class seems really desperate to get close to you."
The vaguest flash of surprise came across her eyes, as if you'd interrupted her. The shock passes.
"Ah. Him." She rolls her eyes, puffing her cheeks as she does. A disgusted grimace mars her angelic expression.
"He's into you." Who isn't?
"I can tell. Not my type." She waves dismissively, having no need for your words. "I can," she pauses over her words, "take care of myself."
A creeping heat climbs your spine. "Really?" Your question sounds more curious than teasing, though your tone carries more than a hint of amusement.
Her slender shoulders shrug ever so casually. "Of course I can. Everyone needs a little," she purrs the next word, "dissipation."
It is the wording more than anything that draws a pensive mood. Yujin said it casually enough, with her fingers absentmindedly pressing up and down her exposed leg, almost as if the mere thought of it was enough to excite her. Her gaze glazes over at some unseen memory, and she gives a knowing smirk before her thoughts snap back to the real world.
"Yujin, I—"
She cuts you off, "there are so many, too many, horny boys in the world, but so few are dependable." The hand tracing her thigh edges just a centimetre further upwards, folding the pleat under the touch. "it was nice to have you here for dinner, but I have something I need to do."
"Are you expecting me to go so that you can...?"
The smile spreads from ear-to-ear across her face. "I'm not saying anything. But you know where the door is." She rises from her seat, a perfectly poised princess, and moves gracefully towards the door. Her body swaying under her baggy shirt and flowing skirt.
She doesn't give you time for a reply.
You're left alone with only the dying embers of her expensive perfume.
***
Class finished early and you're waiting. As you always did when you finished before the girls.
However, this time is different. You haven’t seen Yujin all day and aren’t sure how to act when you do. Not after what you saw yesterday. You lean back against your locker, streams of people passing by. Most ignore you, or the few that acknowledge you pay only a glance or two before continuing.
"Hey, Gaeul," you call to the one girl you recognise passing by, "have you seen Yujin?"
"Bro, she left already." You don't know when she started calling you bro. Maybe she always had. Could be part of her friendly nature. Gaeul is about as easygoing as they come.
"Is something wrong with her?"
"Nah." A gap appears in the crowd and you move to join her, heading out of the building. "You know how it is. If she wants to leave five minutes early, no one will stop her."
Another student cuts between the two of you, forcing you towards another group that blocks your way. You spin away to avoid them, manoeuvring through like a speeding car on the highway, catching up with the on-rushing Gaeul.
"And she didn't say anything?" you ask when finally back by her side. Gaeul's looking at her phone—probably reading a text from her husband-to-be.
"Hm?" Gaeul throws a glance out of courtesy. "No." she mutters before replying to the text.
"Nothing?"
Gaeul opens the door to the outside and you follow her through. She's striding like a girl with places to be, so you have to half-jog to get back by her side.
"Oh! Yujin did tell me to tell you something, actually. She said, tell him to act like a criminal. Whatever that means."
Act like a criminal.
"Thanks Gaeul," you speak quickly, diverting towards your car.
"Bro! What does it mean?" Gaeul calls after you but you don't wait around to answer.
***
The maid is there to greet you when you knock on the door of Yujin's house. Apparently, Yujin is waiting for you upstairs, and after letting you into the Ahn house for the second time in as many days, the maid disappears again into the background, leaving you to explore.
You see, yesterday ended almost unceremoniously. You stayed for dinner, you ate, talked, laughed. And then you left.
Except, it wasn't actually that simple. After Yujin left the room, you held around for a minute, finishing your drink. The ice-cold one in the fancy tumbler. Taking in the room around, as for all the time you had spent in there, you were more focused on Yujin than the exquisite decor. You admired it for all it's worth and savoured your drink until you decided that you shouldn't overstay your welcome.
It should have been simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.
Until you walked down the corridor and found a door ajar with the smallest of gaps. You leant gently against the frame, peering in just enough to give you a view of the bed.
On the bed was the girl you expected to find. On the bed was Ahn Yujin.
The curtains were closed, but enough sunlight managed to peak through. Light bounced off the soft skin. Each breath sent her chest swelling. You followed every rise and fall with hungry eyes.
With the afternoon sun kissing her flesh, highlighting the curve of her shoulder and collarbone, she looked even more heavenly. She wore her short hair wild, swept back and almost messy. And that's all she wore.
Her clothes discarded. A crumpled heap just beside the bed. And yet, there was a strangely intimate beauty in their chaos. As if she had just stumbled out of them in some urgent and carnal heat.
Her entire being had been shaped into perfection, carved from a block of ivory, her delicate fingers, smooth legs, slender shoulders and bare chest roseand fell with the soft inhales of breathing.
It was not the Yujin you knew; there was no hint of her elegance and poise. Here only lustful indulgence. A reckless hedonism that wanted no secrets to be kept or questions to be unanswered. Her body lay free of the bounds that normalcy imposes, inviting you to admire what she kept concealed, every precious curve and secret corner of her immaculate skin, every beautiful mark and blemish, that, in itself, was a testament to the humanity that lies just under the surface of such sublime beauty.
There was no doll, nor porcelain queen. No statue of stone or plaster. Instead, she was living, breathing, moving and feeling. Each touch was electricity. And her eyes said it all.
There was woman—in its rawest form.
And you had stood. You had stared. For as long as you dared. Until you tried to tear yourself away. You could not deny your perverted mind that moment of indulgence. And indulge you did, right up until the fear of being caught overcame you.
It should have been so simple. Walk to your car, get in, and go home.
For the last twenty-four hours, the image plagued your mind. You were consumed with her. With the idea of her. Of what she had done, of what could have been had you dared enter her room. And the guilt alongside it.
And now you're here, a day later, walking back to the scene of your crime. The door is ajar again, a few feet ahead. You push lightly, gently, inch by inch. Your breath held and the anticipation thick, clouding your mind and filling every thought, not of anything other than what you might see behind that door.
And then it comes into view. The bed and the disappointment.
A bed perfectly made, and decidedly empty.
You realise your folly—thinking, hoping, expecting the same sordid sight as before.
"I was wondering if you'd turn up." Her voice comes from behind you and her tone is low, hushed, and seductive. Every word tingles down the spine. Her fragrance arrives a beat ahead of the girl herself. "Did you get my message?"
"Yeah, about being a criminal," you answer as innocently as you can manage, still recovering from the shock.
"Exactly. As criminals, we take, without question, what we desire," Yujin whispers the last few words in your ear, a heavy, breathy tone that takes any resolve left in you and melts it before it's even fully formed. Her scent surrounds you. It overwhelms you.
"Yesterday, what you saw me do," she begins, her fingers reaching for your arm, gliding gently and purposefully, drawing slow patterns with a single nail, "you had the decency to resist temptation, but I don't want that." Her fingers grip your forearm tightly.
"It doesn't matter why you resisted. All I know is that you watched me... touch myself, pleasure myself. Do I turn you on?" She knew damn well the effect she was having.
You answer her question with another question. "Yujin, what are you playing at?"
"You're smart. Don't you know how this goes?" She steps, smooths around the shape of you, and into your field of vision. "Don’t you know why you’re here?" 
She raises her arms slowly, making a show of her body. With all the possible casualness, she smooths her hands up her sides, slowly, passing her stomach and onto her chest, and gently caressing. A shirt clings to her slim frame. The thin fabric is practically see-through, clinging to every delicious curve. The bottom few inches lifting, revealing flesh and the lines of lace trim on her matching her cream panties.
"I can't fight it, Yujin." Your hands find their way to the curves of her waist. She wriggles under the touch, happy to have the reaction she desires.
"Fight what?" She smirks, clearly amused by your confession and how easily you give in to her. Her hands roll gently across her breasts.
"The alarm in my head saying it’s a bad idea."
"Don’t fight it. Because I'm really, really hot," she whispers as pulls her top up her body. It rolls over her head and flops to the floor and you marvel, breathless and hungry, at the expanse of silky skin and feminine curves.
Her hands stroke at your crotch and she laughs softly. "Hard already?"
Her fingers curl and squeeze around the outline. She gives an approving smirk at the way it twitches under her touch, even as she mocks its hardness. "For me, huh?"
You nod, and she smirks. You move your hands up her body, but just as you begin; she twists free and walks towards her bed.
"Go, stand." Yujin points at the centre of her bedroom, towards the foot of her bed.
The carpet beneath you is soft, and you're barefoot. Walking. Watching. Eyes never leaving Yujin. Her bare thighs, defined, slender and soft. The curves, so gentle, and her accentuated hips. Her round, shapely behind, cradled so perfectly in tight-fitting panties. You have barely reached your position when she looks at you from over her shoulder and wiggles her panties slowly down her legs and leaves them on the floor.
She's crawling on the bed. You can't move—you barely manage to breathe. Each breath burns your throat. You're motionless, speechless, hypnotised in awe at Yujin. As requested (perhaps ordered) you remain. Watching from afar. Yujin seats herself on her bed with delicacy, her knees pressed together.
"I have to be honest with you," she confesses. "I'm not going to fuck you. But you can help me. If you're willing, that is."
"Anything" is your reflex response. You're powerless. She has you in the palm of her hand, and the growing ache in your groin, which was eager to be free of the confines of your pants, only affirms your thoughts.
"Are you sure?" Her head tilted to the side, teasing you with naivete. Yujin laid a single, slender finger on her lip and pulled it down suggestively. "If you come over here," Yujin insisted, her free hand parting her knees and patting the bed between her thighs, "then we could help each other."
There's a flurry of activity. You pull off your shirt and leave your trousers behind. Now you're kneeling across from her.
"Watch me. Just watch." Her voice is softer now, sultry, as her fingers ghost down the column of her neck, along her collarbones and then tracing the curve of her breasts, with the lightest grazes against her nipples. Her eyes fall closed as she carries on tracing feathery touches on her torso.
To be here now is all you could have wanted, really. If anything is happening beyond the sound of her shortening breaths and soft hums and her hand snaking between her legs, it's beyond your awareness. Yujin is shifting in front of you, wiggling and squirming; biting at her lip until it reddens and fills; gasping at the gentle caress of fingertips sliding slick against the smooth lips between her legs.
"No touching, just look." As if to drive the point home, her gaze holds on you for a moment, her lips curling into the sweetest smile. As a reward for your patience, her eyes grow warm and welcoming. Her legs spread wider, and Yujin hums. Her touch builds slowly, making small circles. There's no sign of urgency to her actions, none of the frustration that Wonyoung showed when waiting for her release. But Yujin isn't simply touching; it isn't about release. She's revelling.
Her breasts move with her heavy breaths. Her body trembles; her legs shake. She leans back slowly, taking support from her elbow, exposing herself wholly to you, with her head pressing back into her pillow, her hair sprawling in a mess and her pink lips slightly agape as her mouth shapes sounds that die as quickly as they're born.
"Yujin, I..." You lean forward onto your knees, placing an arm by her hip and another by her shoulder. You're hovering over her. Watching the display before you in stunned silence.
She grabs a handful of her tit, squeezing and moaning. "Keep talking," she breathes, her lips still quivering.
"I want you so bad."
She presses harder and slides her finger a little lower, dipping inside her cunt. Her other hand goes to your arm, then strokes over your bicep up to your neck. "You can do better than that." She whispers, wrapping her hand around your nape.
"How could I not want you?" Your knees are between her legs, you lower yourself closer without breaking her rule. You do not touch. "Not when you smell so enticing. Or sound so delightful. Or look so stunning."
Her mouth opens, panting breaths and half-uttered sighs fill the air. "And?"
Strands of hair fall over her face, you bring a hand up and hover it near to them, seeking her approval. Her eyes dart to your hand and consider it for a moment before giving the gentlest of approving nods. Your hand brushes the strands to the side. Her cheeks are bright and rosy, her skin damp, moist with perspiration, though still like silk to touch, you discover as you run a finger down her cheek.
"And when you look at me... with that smile. You have such a cute smile, like right now, that innocent—"
"Shut the fuck up and kiss me."
You oblige. Yujin rises to meet you. And you take her in a hungry kiss. She falls back against her pillow. You slide a hand around her thigh, gently holding it against yours. The sensation of skin on skin is electric.
"M-more. Give me more." Yujin demands, and you give her thigh a squeeze in agreement. Your hand moves to her ass, giving the swell an approving touch, caressing the skin, and kneading ever so slowly.
You watch her, in the dimness between kisses, studying her delicate expressions and tiny reactions and all the while you enjoy the feeling of her pliant flesh beneath you.
This goes on and on. The kissing. The touching. The moments of separation. When Yujin pauses and lays her head down, catching her breath. A few heartbeats pass, she opens her eyes and watches you. Languidly, she smiles and beckons you to lean closer, to hold her again and taste her sweet lips once more.
The dim, orange sunlight of early evening has long since faded. A soft, blue light envelops her bedroom. As the minutes passed and the two of you enjoyed each other's touch, Yujin never stopped. Never stopped her hand buried between her thighs. And this time your kiss broke by the jolt of her head, thrown back into the pillow. Her neck is at full stretch and her lips agape.
No moans come from her mouth. Instead, her breath hitches and holds. She freezes like this, under the moonlight piercing between the curtains. Reflecting from her skin. An image of pure beauty. Unadulterated pleasure.
Her eyes remain shut, but a beaming smile grows.
Finally, she sighs deeply and lets out her last shuddering, shaky breaths. She rises again and searches your eyes with her half-open ones and smiles once more.
"That was perfect," she murmurs, satisfied, as she lolls back into the pillow and rubs her hand—the hand covered with her cum—over her heaving, sweat-slicked chest.
You can only admire as she rubs her hand over her tits, smearing them with a mixture of cum and sweat. And when she's done, she lets her hand fall beside her head, the other resting on your shoulder.
"What are you thinking?" Her question came slowly, her speech still languid.
"How amazing you are."
Yujin smirks before stretching, arching her back from the bed, thrusting her tits at you. "You've probably thought that a lot." She's hot, and she knows it. "Anything else? With me here like this?"
"Your body is better than I imagined. Perfect."
Yujin brings a hand up to cup her tit, as if offering them up for you. "Glad you think so." The next word was a demand, "Taste."
Her chin tilts down and her gaze lifts. Her eyes watch curiously as your head dives to her chest. The most overpowering thing is the smell. The combination of her rich perfume and the scent of sex.
"That's it. Let me guide you." Yujin reaches round, holds the back of your head, and pushes your lips on her nipple. She giggles as you suck greedily, nibbling at her and lavishing her flesh in sloppy adoration. Yujin's skin glows a hue you'd never seen before. And tastes a taste so sickly sweet that you swear is so addicting that as a second becomes a minute, your tongue would never tire.
"Good." Her voice is soft and doting, but her breath catches for a brief instant as you roll your tongue over the swollen peak, drawing a tighter grip on your head. Her hands bury into your hair, her nails against the scalp. She pulls at you, guiding your tongue across her chest.
Yujin whines. And for all the sounds that you've heard today, there is none so sweet, nor one that cuts so deep as when she pulls you away. "God, I feel so sexy now."
Yujin lets her leg rub up to yours. Gyrating gently and grinding your thigh with hers, she works herself closer. Then her legs curl, capturing you and holding you. Yujin raises up so her face is millimetres away, whispering into your lips, "You don't even know what a turn-on you are right now."
She guides your hand with her own, down between her thighs. And she rubs your fingers up against her slippery opening. "Feel that? That's for you, and I can't wait any longer." Her eyes fall closed and her forehead rests against yours.
"I want to fuck you, Yujin."
"We aren't going to fuck." She punctuates each word separately but speaks without anger. Her tone is honey. It's dripping with lust despite the coldness of the words. "But I am going to let you cum now."
Her hand leaves your own, leaving your fingers pressed against her cunt. Both her hands now. Both against your body, rubbing at your chest and working their way down. Yujin's got a devilish, vapid expression. An insufferable confidence.
"And maybe this is selfish, but," Yujin grins wickedly as her hand takes a fistful of cock. "I'm also going to get off to watching you blow a load."
Her thumb, smeared in her arousal, rolls and drags. It's a wicked gesture that plays you like a marionette. Yujin draws her wet thumb up your length. The pressure and tension are enough to bring your breath hitching.
"It'll be huge." You lean into the feeling and whisper hotly. The heat building between the two of you is dizzying. She wraps her fingers around the base of your cock and squeezes firmly, jerking her hand up to the head.
"Good." The word escapes her parted lips as she takes the first full stroke. And then she doesn't stop. Her fingers tighten and the movement is repeated, finding a quick rhythm that you follow along to.
"Touch me," Yujin orders again. She looks down between your bodies, the tangle of arms, where she strokes your cock rhythmically. Using her other hand on your wrist to push you into her. Two fingers. That's what you give, gently stroking down along her cunt. Two fingers inside and curling up slowly inside her. Your hand pressing against her cunt, palm rocking against her clit. "Keep doing that."
You follow along. Obeying her directions and fulfilling her commands, making short little motions between her legs. You've watched her cum once and know exactly how to bring her there again. You push further, probing deeper, massaging the hot slickness. And you must be doing it right. Her grip on your wrist slackens and her body collapses back into the silk.
Finally, she fully focuses on you. Her hands work your cock. Up, down. Smooth, measured, fluid strokes. Unsurprisingly, she's perfect, each action purposeful, coordinated, and calculated. You know from the tension already winding, growing tighter and tighter, that it's a race you're destined to lose.
Yujin sighs heavily. Her lips remain open but her eyes grow serious. Head propped by the pillow, she's watching her handiwork. Watching the first drops of cum leak out and she palms them, taking them into her grip, making it messier as she continues to pump. Her eyes lift to watch your face as it distorts, and as you let out a groan.
"Are you close yet?" Her hand tightens. Faster. Rougher. Her fingers graze your sensitive cock, your body convulses and the involuntary reaction is a knee-jerk buck of your hips into the warmth of her hand. And her laugh follows. Delightfully warm, innocent, genuine. It fills the room and pierces through any self-conscious embarrassment. "Guess so, huh? Come on, cum. Just for me." Her thumb drags over your cock's head.
Your hands still moving, and Yujin's body beginning to quiver. With her orgasm fast approaching, she's determined to make you finish first. Her other hand has a hold on your balls, encouraging them to let loose.
Your lungs hurt from the shallow gasps and a sick knot forms in the pit of your stomach. A tingling buzzing and a throbbing that overcomes everything, wiping the thoughts from your mind. Only her eyes. Yujin's warm, hazel, angelic eyes are what remains. They stare with determination, urging you on.
She knows. You know. You can't hold it anymore. Your body isn't yours anymore, it responds to Yujin, and when she grins, you have no power. Yujin's in control, the only words in your mind. "Cum. Cum all over."
"Ugh, fuck..." is all the warning that you can manage. Her grin widens into a malicious smile and her hand becomes a vice. You can barely breathe; a dull buzzing rings in your ears. Your vision is a blur. All-consuming pleasure blinds. You buck into her hand and feel the thick ropes of cum leave. Firing onto her toned stomach. On to her tits. Wherever her hand directs you.
"Wow, really came hard," Yujin grins teasingly at her messy hands.
Breathing is easier now, and the rush, though it fades, lingers still in every inch of you. And as feeling comes back, as your mind clears, you realise your own hand never stopped. You're still mindlessly fucking her with your fingers. Still making Yujin writhe and moan. She's so warm. Wet.
"Fu-ck. Ke-eep doing... that." Her legs pull at you, forcing your body on top of hers. You respond in your movements, curling your fingers into her and slamming them harder. Your palm hits her cunt every time with a slap.
She's got a hand on her tit, squeezing the cum-covered mounds, her hand sliding around in the sticky mess. It's spreading—the mess, all over her tits—and she's using it for pleasure. It glistens in the soft blue moonlight, catching your eyes.
"I-m..." Yujin starts, then gasping a sharp intake of breath, then more noises, stunted. This goes on until, finally, she takes one slow, heavy, deep breath, filling her chest and holding it there. Her eyes are glassy as if she's not looking through them. And she's still gripping your sensitive cock, hand covered in cum. You groan softly as her hand rubs the last few drops out.
She cums again. She tried to warn you, but this time she's nothing but moans. Erupting from her. Rough. Deep. Coming from within. She gushes. Wetness coats your fingers. Her cunt overflows and runs out onto your hand. A mess of her cum on you, a mess of your cum on her. You watch her breathing as the final few gasps leave her, slowly returning to a steady, even rhythm.
Yujin is breathless. "W-wow..."
You kiss her cheek gently. Your body finds its place beside hers. "Fuck me, Yujin," you exhale.
Yujin's breathing is slow and even, a smile beaming, radiating that warm glow that is her. She takes a deep breath in, then lets it out again.
"No." There's not an iota of sympathy.
You let out an audible sigh, but Yujin holds her finger up. "No sex tonight," she corrects herself, before pushing on your shoulder, rolling you over until she sits atop you.
Her lithe, cum-covered body presses down upon you. Her hips against your spent dick. She leans back, straightening her torso. She barely weighs a thing. Her body is as light as a feather. Yujin gives an innocent look, smiling but avoiding the eyes, but after a moment her smile turns coy, even teasing. She runs a hand over her body and pulls it away, strings of sticky cum stretching from her fingers to her stomach.
"I need a shower." She runs her eyes over your body. "We need a shower."
"Or we can continue..." you speak as you run a hand up her thigh.
Yujin moans in response, and she closes her eyes at the contact. A tremble wracks her for a moment, until her eyes snap open. "No." She pulls back and pushes off you. "Come. Let's shower."
She's standing beside the bed, and you admire her. "You look gorgeous." The words float in the air, and Yujin lets a soft, barely visible blush form. She takes it well; you would've thought she'd dismiss the words, but she smiles warmly.
"Come on." Her finger beckons you.
You follow and don't take your eyes off her. And why should you? Her body is so enchanting, swaying her hips from side to side in her lustful saunter. Her ass and shoulders roll in sync perfectly.
***
Hot water and steam. One runs down your body and the other fills the air. Not thick enough to block your sight but still veiling everything in a white, blurry mist, just enough to muffle the sound, enough to add something in the background.
"Mm..." Yujin murmurs as you rub her back. A luxurious bar of soap. You lather your hands and work it across her body. Underneath her arms. You guide your slippery hands to her sides, lifting and moving with them as they run along her stomach. You tickle gently above her hip bones, smiling at her small reaction—how her hips roll away instinctively.
"So, what happens now?" you ask. Yujin had been completely quiet during the shower. But you can't help but think that you need to address what just happened, what could happen.
"Well, I could bend over right now, right?" Her voice is bubbly, still in a post-orgasmic high.
You chuckle. "But you won't."
"But I won't," Yujin confirms. "I haven't decided yet."
"That's ominous."
Yujin closes her eyes. "Not like I'm the only girl who you're fooling around with."
"So you want it to be exclusive?"
"No." Yujin takes the soap and turns to face you, rubbing it over your chest.
"You're a hot guy, with a nice cock," Yujin's eyelids fall half-closed and her lips spread to show her tongue running over the corner of her mouth, and with the faintest shrug, and adds: "We both know I could have my way with you anytime I want."
Yujin moves past you towards the jet of running hot water. She bows her head under it and lets it rinse off the foam. The suds flow down her body. The streams turn to rivers. Bouncing, trickling, coursing between her supple breasts, down her narrow waist, over her toned stomach, then along her long legs. She takes a second longer than necessary, basking in the spray and enjoying the sensation, and the visual she knows she creates for you.
She reaches out and pulls you under, body against body. She brings her mouth to your ear. "But no one can find out. That would cause you a lot of problems." Her hands grip you tightly as if to emphasise the seriousness. And while her tone remains jovial, there is an underlying sternness.
"What do you mean? What would happen?"
"The position my dad is in, we can't afford to have this come out. He would have you out of the school and out of my life in an instant." Her voice lowers, almost a growl, but there's amusement in it. Her smile widens as she looks you in the eye. "But that won't happen, will it? We'll make sure of that."
"No, won't happen."
"And while we're on the topic..." Yujin grabs at your crotch, stunning you. "If you're gonna keep fucking Wonyoung, you might want to do a better job of hiding that. It'll end the same way."
"Y-you don't mind if I fuck Wonyoung?"
"Please, I encourage it." Yujin wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls you in closer. You move your arms to hold her back. Skin on skin. Her breaths are hot, and steamy. She whispers the next few words, drawing out every syllable, each sound heavy with meaning.
"I..." You lose what words you want to say, flustered by her open, unexpected, and totally cool, reaction.
"Why would I? It's hot as fuck." Her lips brush over your cheeks, ghosting over the skin with a soft, supple touch. "And I know she won't fuck as good as I will."
NEXT PART HERE
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adoreddestiny · 2 months
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ೃ⁀➷ TONGUE PIERCINGS 🔞 — rafayel, xavier, zayne x fem!reader
ೃ⁀➷ request: can you write a snippet of l&ds boys having tongue piercings 😛🤭🔞? Please and thanks also I love all your snippets!
it’s pleasing to the merman when he licks your lips with a scintillating gaze. rafayel’s eyes sharpening in the light of the moon as he presses his lips against yours. the silver piercing on his tongue glides against the pink muscle in your mouth. a rough grunt elicits from his mouth and you can feel your knees grow weak.
your back is pressed against the wall, trapped by muscular arms. he chooses when you breathe again as you find yourself drowning in the heat from his mouth. his knee slots nicely in between your legs giving your clothed pussy something to grind against.
he pulls away finally. a lewd string of saliva attaching your lips for a mere second before he moves to pin you further against the wall. his piercing grazing against the sweet spot on your neck. you whine out something about being late but he only responds by sucking a hickey on your collarbone. “don’t wanna go,” he mumbles out, “just wanna fuck you.”
it’s a little surprising to learn that such a stoic and stern doctor like zayne could possibly have such an accessory. but he brushes the college dare off with such elegance that it entirely counterposes the way he’s got you reeling. your shirt is pulled up and dangling by your teeth, allowing him access to your pretty tits.
he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. strong hands hold down your waist and inner thigh. he chuckles maliciously as the cold steel makes contact with your nipple. a shiver crawls through your spine and your body trembles in his grasp. his tongue expertly navigates your pleasure, grazing over the sensitive skin.
his hand dips down further to press against the seat of your panties. through the sheer fabric, he lazily rolls your clit. a gasp escapes you causing you to release the end of your shirt. it tumbles down, covering you back up. zayne clucks his tongue, peering up at you with keen eyes, pulling your shirt back up and slipping it back in between your teeth. “don’t drop it again,” he whispers, “you promised to stay quiet tonight.”
you don’t even have time to catch your breath when xavier’s tongue meets your melting pussy again. the little piercing ball on his tongue glides alluringly over your clit. an obscene amount of cum and saliva drip down your ass. inquiring about such a curious little piece of metal had been your downfall the moment the light in his eyes shifted.
his hands pin your legs against your chest allowing him perfect access to your constricting hole. another swipe over your clit with that godforsaken piercing has you seeing stars. a filthy squelch incurs when he pushes a little deeper. your thighs quiver but he steadies you once more with a rough grip. nothing is left in the darkening room save for desperation and pornographic pants.
your hands search helplessly for something to root you back to reality but you find your fantasies entangled in the way he pulls away. his mouth is slick with your sweetness but the hunger in his eyes is ever-present. you have to catch your breath, clit throbbing achingly so when he grinds a heavy cock against you. “please let me put it in,” he pants, “i can’t take it anymore.”
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whore-era · 1 year
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☁︎ mean!ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ themes: grumpy x sunshine trope, reader chasing after ellie ☁︎ summary: in which jackson's sweetest girl crushes on the town's grumpy asshole. ☁︎ a/n: loosely inspired by the cartoon 'puca puca' lmao, hope yall luv this one ♡ ☁︎ word count: 6,883
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spring was coming in swiftly, and you couldn’t be more excited. the snow was beginning to melt, and the town was experiencing small spouts of rain, kickstarting the bloom of some of the most beautiful flowers in the surrounding forest. 
it finally gave you a reason to take out your spring-wear and put your thick and heavy winter coats away in the back of your closet. fashion and clothing was a hobby you found yourself engrossed in, taking the time to carefully curate bright outfits and sew together your own unique pieces, utilizing whatever scraps of fabric you could get your hands on. it certainly took your mind off the reality of what went on behind these walls, a responsibility you could never imagine partaking in. everyone in town held those who went on patrol on high pedestals, thanking them for their brave service of facing those monstrosities and protecting us every day. 
thankfully, maria assigned you the responsibility of the town’s animal caretaker. tenderly providing the animals with food, care, and love. it was a job you absolutely dreamed of, always having a deep fondness for animals, even since you were a small child. 
“oh, jeez, minnie, i think you’re about ready to almost pop,” you mutter, feeding straws of hay to minnie, the beautiful, big, brown cow. she was one of two cows you had on the farm and was currently pregnant, ready to give birth to a cute, little calf. 
minnie doesn’t say anything, and chews on the grain instead. but you like to think that minnie understands your shared conversations, and often expresses her opinions in little ‘moos’. it was either that, or you were actually going insane.
“i think we’ll name your baby….buttercup,” you suggest, rubbing minnie’s ears, “doesn’t that sound lovely, minnie?” and she lets out a little snort, inciting a small smile from you.
checking your wristwatch, your eyes widen. “oops, almost time for patrol. i’ll be back later, sweet lady,” you say as you give minnie’s nose a gentle rub. getting up on your feet, you go to the sink and wash your hands, drying them and using another rag to wipe off any dirt or debris from your light blue overalls. 
this was your usual routine. waking up bright and early, heading to the barn to feed the animals, and making sure they have enough water and are groomed. then, you head over to the stables and help the other stableboys get the horses ready for patrol. yeah, the horses were absolute cuties, but a huge part of the reason you volunteered to go to the stables was so you could see ellie williams before patrol. 
ellie williams was a dream. a dream you’ve been wishing for since you were 13 years old. you were enamored with how fearless she was. she was famous in town for her journey with joel, and what the duo survived out in the open world — causing everyone to heavily praise the two, and think of them in high regard. but you could see there was more to her than meets the eye. yeah, sure, she was a little rough around the edges, but who wasn’t after seeing what she experienced? ellie was usually quiet, and reserved, mostly keeping to herself and her close friends and family. 
the younger folks in jackson think ellie was an ass and a big ole’ grouch. always having a grimace gracing her face or a ‘resting bitch face’ that’d intimidate even the most dangerous of bloaters. but those accusations never startled you.
over the years you’ve tried to get closer to ellie, going out of your way to give her gifts and cooking foods you know she likes. it was your way of helping ellie feel better and relax after a stressful day of patrol, and it was the least you could do. sometimes ellie would get a teensy bit annoyed with you, and would occasionally tell you to tone it down, but you just blamed it on her exhaustion due to patrol.
as you brushed shimmer’s mane, you picked up some baby’s breath that bloomed in your mother's garden and began to tuck it into the creases of the braid you were creating.
“do you feel beautiful, shim?” you ask her, “‘cause you look beautiful.” you giggle, rubbing her nose.
putting down the small pail you used to hold the flowers in, your eyes shift to the exit, raking them over the brunette a few feet away from you. your heart flips in your chest, and you let out a small sigh, fawning over her — ellie williams. 
everything moved in a slow, fluid motion as she turned and headed in your direction. it was like a spotlight was shining right at her, following her every movement. you could only imagine how it’d be to have the privilege of being ellie’s girlfriend, to hold her hand, to kiss her goodbye, to nuzzle into her body during those cold winters. it was a fantasy only your diary had the pleasure of holding. 
there was only one girl in this entire town who held the reputation of being ellie’s girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend. it was dina woodward. they dated for a brief six months, before splitting up and continuing a civil friendship. you weren’t sure what the real reason was for their breakup, but rumors say they ended things because ellie was a terrible partner, never doing anything ‘romantic’ for her or showing any real affection towards her. others say they only got together because they were fooling around when they were out during patrol, and when word of it got out, they thought they’d might as well be together to save face.
but rumors were just rumors and you were never the type of person to believe such things unless they came from the actual source.
your body reacted before your mind could, and before you knew it, you were jogging over towards ellie, throwing your arms around her neck, “good morning, ellie!!”
ellie rolled her eyes, annoyed by the sudden physical contact and loud voice booming so early in the morning. she took hold of your hips, attempting to pry you off her, “alright, alright, that’s enough.”
pulling away and facing her, you smile sheepishly, “sorry, sorry— forgot you hated it when i got a little loud, especially before patrol.”
she huffed, crossing her arms in frustration. ellie knew you as the girl who had this puppy-sick crush on her the moment she arrived at jackson. as young tweens, you chased her around the school grounds, craving any bit of her attention and bothering her whenever the moment arose, like taking every open opportunity to be her partner during class or science experiments. you were the gum on the bottom of her boot, stuck and stubborn, never budging. 
but as the years progressed, she’s learned to tolerate you, thinking you’d eventually get tired of her somehow. giving up after the unreciprocated feelings and chasing after another unlucky fool.
“what happened to shimmer’s mane?” ellie questioned, poking at the flowers adorning the horse’s hair. 
“i braided some flowers in it,” you smile proudly, “she’s cute, huh?”
she nodded mindlessly, and leaned into shimmer’s ear, “i’ll take those off when we get outta here.” 
you made sure to grab the paper bag and held it out to ellie, “i made you lunch again. i left a little note in there, so make sure you read it, m’kay?” you smiled, nodding towards the bagged lunch. 
ellie apprehensively took the bag from your hands, and gave you a curt nod, “yea,” she murmured, “thanks.”
shoving the bag in her backpack, she took ahold of shimmer’s leads, guiding her out of the stables. but you gently touched her arm, “um, ellie.”
she turns slightly, “hm?”
“be safe out there, okay? i’ll be here, waiting for you,” you bite your lip, “and if something happens to you, i’ll— uh— come lookin’ for ya! and i’ll beat those uglies up!”
you smile widely, feeling a bit embarrassed by your word choice, but she got your message. with an awkward smile, she mutters “thanks.”
before she turns again, you move quickly and wrap your arms around her again, giving her a tight squeeze before pecking her on the cheek. a warm, rush of crimson fanned across her cheeks, turning her a bright, cherry red. 
“okay, okay! that’s enough,” ellie groans.
“sorry, sorry,” you pull off and quickly smooth out her clothes, but she just turns away and walks off with shimmer at full tilt. 
as ellie approaches beside jesse, he does a double-take and gawks at her, his curious eyes scanning the face of the girl next to him.
“wow, dude, you look like a tomato-” ellie cut him off.
“shut the fuck up, jess. just shut up.”
as much as you aggravated ellie, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to herself that you made her feel something. something she desperately wanted to despise. 
and if there was one thing that was true about her, it was that ellie williams was no liar. 
after arriving at one of the checkpoints along the route, jesse and ellie tied their horses and settled at the abandoned fire lookout tower, taking a much-needed break.
ellie picked off the white florets from shimmer’s hair, letting the small flowers fall to the ground. 
“god, she put so many in here,” ellie muttered, irritated by how many little flowers tangled in the horse’s mane. jesse peered over at her, amusedly watching her peel off the petals and toss them over her shoulder. 
“she ‘do that?” jesse questioned, referring to you as he rummaged through the saddle bag of his horse.
ellie sighed, “yea.” 
“she did a pretty good job,” jesse smiled, “she’s nice for doin’ that.”
she huffed, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time today, “whatever,” she mutters, “shimmer is a brave and strong woman. this shit just makes her look— like a joke.”
the raven-haired boy shook his head in disagreement, “i just think you try to make yourself hate whatever she does.” 
ellie stopped to glare at him, “not true.” 
she didn’t care what you did. she just didn’t want you to involve your perky, bubbly nonsense in her business. ellie thought of you as the complete opposite of her, and being opposites, she couldn’t manage to be around you. you were sunshine, rainbows, puppies, bubbles, and an optimist. ellie was the moon, darkness, crows, horror movies, and a pessimist. two different things. two things that didn’t mix. 
“lies. you try to find every little thing wrong with her, but you can’t admit the truth. she’s the sweetest.” ellie tried her best to ignore the words coming from jesse’s mouth, but she couldn’t. it frustrated her how much he thought you affected her. it was simply false. 
sure, ellie tries to shake off the feeling of pride she gets when you look up at her with adoring eyes and call her ‘brave’ after a day out on patrol, and yeah, she tries to brush away the heat that rises to her face when she sees your face light up every morning when you first see her, but that’s because it doesn’t mean anything. the way ellie blushed rose red after you kissed her cheek this morning meant absolutely nothing. 
“she’s the nicest girl in town,” jesse goes on as the pair take a seat on the wooden steps of the tower, “and you’re being an asshole.”
“yeah, whatever. let’s eat.” ellie attempts to shift the conversation, feeling uneased about all this discussion of you. jesse shrugged, opening his pack and taking out a wrapped-up pack of bison jerky and an apple and took a crispy, juicy bite from the fruit.
ellie took out the paper bag, taking a minute to stare at the ‘for ellie :)’ written in black marker. unfolding the bag, she takes out a tupperware and opens the lid revealing a roasted turkey sandwich on a homemade french roll, freshly made potato chips, a small salad, and a little fruit tart on the side. she takes the small paper in her hand, reading the note you wrote for her:
let me know how you like the food! everything was made this morning and packed with love. be safe and have a great day ellie!
p.s you look pretty today :) 
xoxoxo
ellie suppressed the tiny flutters of butterflies floating in her stomach, blaming it on her evergrowing hunger, and crumpled the note, tossing it back in the paper bag. 
“woah, where’d you get that?” jesse said with a mouth full of jerky, “couldn’t bother to get me one?”
she rolled her eyes, “she always gives me lunch before patrol. you wanna share?” 
jesse shook his head at her offer, “nah, i’m good. don’t think your little housewife would be happy to hear you didn’t finish your food, ma’am,” jesse teased, letting out a chuckle. 
dragging out a groan, ellie closed her eyes before opening them again, “she’s not my— oh, fuck off.”
she chucked a chip at him, the crispy snack hitting him on the shoulder as he laughed again. 
there were a lot of things ellie’s didn’t like about you, but she had to admit, you were a damn good cook. 
-
the sunshine was something you’ve grown to appreciate during your time in jackson. as the winters can drag out for months, you took every opportunity to bask in the sun outside when the weather deemed it possible to do so. during the hotter months in town, you loved getting dressed in flowy dresses and letting the sun kiss your skin tan. it was a treat you and the rest of the people in town enjoyed, especially when everyone took their loved ones to the lake nearby and waded in the cool, fresh water.
after ellie left for patrol in the morning, the weather decided to look up and the sun beamed brighter in the clear, blue skies today, giving you the perfect chance to change out of your overalls and into a cute blouse with puffy sleeves and a pair of blue denim jean shorts. 
sitting on a bench perched outside the fence of the cow’s pen, you let yourself relax, soaking up the warmth radiating from the sunshine and occasionally taking sips from the ice, cold lemonade mrs. meyers made for the workers. 
your ears perked up at the bustling clanks of the main gates opening. sitting up and shielding your eyes from the sun, you take a look and see that ellie and jesse are back from patrol. jumping up in excitement, you set your drink down and sprint over to the stables, excited to see ellie again.
“ellie!” you yell out as she hops off her horse. with wide eyes, she hurriedly hides behind jesse, taking advantage of his taller height and wider build.
“cover for me.” ellie mutters to jesse. 
winded and breathing heavily from the run, you clutch your abdomen and catch your breath, “where’d ellie go? i just saw her.” 
jesse smirks, and ellie looks up at him. don’t you dare. don’t you dare. don’t you fucking dare. 
he steps aside, revealing ellie, hunched forward in a pathetic attempt to hide from you. 
“she’s right here.” jesse smiles, and walks away, staring at ellie as he leaves the both of you alone. 
ellie throws a quick glare his away, before standing up straight and clearing her throat, “hey— uh— i was just fixing my— uh..jacket.”
it was a wretched sight to see. ellie’s lame excuse for avoiding you. if it were anyone else, she’d have no problem telling them to ‘fuck off’ and to leave her alone. but with you, she didn’t have the guts to tell you she was avoiding you. why? she didn’t know. maybe she didn’t want to see your feelings hurt. 
but you were oblivious to this. it was a regular occurrence for you to miss things and let them go right over your head, but it was because you saw the good in everyone, even ellie. 
“how was patrol? see anything interesting?” you pondered to ellie, walking alongside her as she begin her trek back to her house. 
“nah, just the same old shit,” ellie speeds up her pace, and you struggle to keep up with her long legs, nearly stumbling over your own.
“so, uh, ellie,” you stammered, “i wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight?” 
this was your corny way of asking her on a date, something you’ve been wanting to do for ages. 
“uh, yeah—” ellie scratched the back of her neck, “i’m real busy tonight.”
false. ellie’s evening consisted of smoking a joint and immersing herself in volume 14 of her favorite comic book. but she already knew, there was no telling what’d happen if she were to be alone with you. 
ellie strictly kept her distance from you and always made sure there were other people around you two while talking. it was her way of being in control. she was terrified of what would happen if her feelings were to rise to the surface and reign sovereignty over her. 
“oh okay,” you thought for a moment, “how about tomorrow night?”
“uhh, not available tomorrow either. sorry.” ellie avoided your gaze, instead letting her eyes fall to the ground, but to her inconvenience, her eyes gravitated to the sight of your bare legs underneath those shorts, only imagining what she’d do if she could feel the smooth skin under her fingertips. 
ellie pushed her thoughts to the side. this is what she didn’t want. she couldn’t let herself think these vile thoughts. she couldn’t let her guard down. she couldn’t allow herself to trust and be vulnerable. ellie had to control herself, doing whatever means necessary to keep you far, far away.
“hmph, okay. it’s fine,” you frown for a moment before forcing a smile on your face, “maybe another time.” 
“mhm, sure.” 
as you turn away and head in a different direction, ellie let her eyes watch you walk away, ignoring the tight squeeze in her heart that occurs every time you leave. she knew whatever she did, her feelings for you only grew, scaring her more than any clicker could. 
that evening, you prepared the farm animal's last meal for tonight and filled up their water basins. but you couldn’t focus, your mind distracted by that certain green-eyed girl. it was almost wearisome having these many feelings for one person, your mind consumed by her very existence, to the point where you couldn’t even focus on work. 
startling yourself, you feel the pointy straws of hay poking your legs as you overfilled minnie’s feeder. 
“ugh, minnie,” you groan, “ what the heck am i gonna do with ellie?” 
you grabbed the broom, and began sweeping the stray hay that fell onto the floor, letting yourself vent to the cow. 
“i know, i know, everyone might think she’s a big ole’ grump,” you begin, “but i don’t see her that way. she’s so brave and she’s so smart! i see her reading her astronomy books all the time.”
you smile at yourself, the image of ellie sitting on the brown wicker chair on the porch pops in your brain. “when it gets late at night, i see her doodling the stars and planets,” you fawn, “shh, don’t tell her i told you that.” 
you sigh, leaning your cheek against the top of the broom’s handle, “she’s just so— amazing. a real special person. she deserves everything in the world for all she does.” 
as silence fills the barn, you gasp, minnie’s eyes widening in surprise. “maybe i’ll do something big for her. to show her how much she means to me.” 
you lean the broom against the wall, “thank you, minnie. for always listening to me.” you rub her head before you scurry out of the barn, heading home to lay out your plans. leaving minnie to chew on the straws of grain. 
february 14th
“fucking shit!” ellie yelled, throwing her backpack off her back, creating a loud thud as it landed on the floor of the weapon’s armory shed. today’s patrol was particularly grueling today as she and jesse were confronted with two bloaters and four raiders. after a gruesome fistfight with the raiders, all the men did was loot their weapons and supplies and left them alive with their horses. they were considered extremely lucky, as in most cases, the raiders would’ve left them dead. 
“c’mon, we did good out there,” jesse remarked attempting to lighten the mood, but he should’ve known there was no worth in trying to cheer up an already pissed-off ellie. 
“yea, talking as if we didn’t almost fucking died today,” ellie snapped, “two separate times.”
“you know what you need?”
“what?”
“to blow off some steam. get cleaned up and head over to the bar,” jesse smirked at her, but she rolled her eyes, not wanting to do anymore socializing after the dreadful day she had. 
“not today, jess. i jus’ wanna go home, get this shit off me, and sleep for ten hours.”
“c’mon, you buzzkill. it’s valentines day after all,” he sighed, “you gonna spend it cooped up alone in your room?”
“yup.”
“please, ellie. just come with me. let’s celebrate our win today.” 
ellie thought for a moment, and knowing jesse would never take no for an answer for things like these, she reluctantly agreed, “fine.”
unlike ellie, you were beaming, reeling in the ecstatic mood your favorite holiday has brought. valentine’s day was a day for love and celebration in the town of jackson. the local kids would decorate the buildings with red and pink heart streamers and maria always hosted a lovely get-together filled with delicious food, good music, and slow dances.
your heart skipped a beat at the thought of slow dancing with ellie — her hands on your waist, your arms slung around her neck, your bodies swaying ever so slowly along the rhythm of the song.
your hands fixed the pink ribbon in the back of your hair and adjusted some strands of hair to frame your face. you swiped some oil across your lips to give them a sheen gloss and adjusted the long sleeves of your red dress. you felt pretty. 
scrambling towards the kitchen, you flip open the white box, doubling checking the cake and making sure it didn’t need any last-minute toppings. satisfied with your baked creation, you closed the box and secured it in your hands, preparing to head out the door and make your way toward the tipsy bison.
during the walk there, you quietly rehearsed the speech you had prepared in your head. you were a bundle of nerves as you anxiously ran through the words over and over again, hoping by the time you made it to the bar, you got it down and wouldn’t make yourself look like a complete fool in front of ellie and her friends.
one of your hands pushed against the doors of the bar, the bell tinkling as you entered the establishment. you greeted a few familiar faces and smiled at barry, the regular bartender. but your mind was set on finding ellie, nothing less, so your eyes scanned the area and settled on a certain brunette who was sitting at a booth, amongst her chattering friends as she sipped on a glass of bourbon. 
you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your lips, “ellie!”
the brunette snapped her head at the sound of her name, but she let out a despondent groan after realizing it was you. she wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the patience to deal with you tonight, but nothing could stop you from heading in her direction. 
“ah, shit. she’s coming.” ellie takes a long swig of her drink, hoping the alcohol would make this entire ordeal more tolerable.
“be nice, ellie.” dina snapped as you approached their table. 
you smiled at everyone — jesse, dina, kelly, evan, ellie — and greeted them with a “happy valentines day everyone!”
everyone smiled and held up their drinks in acknowledgment as your eyes flickered on the girl in front of you. “can i talk to you, ellie? alone?”
a mixture of excitement and nerves flooded your body as you were getting ready to execute your plan.
ellie, however, was growing more worried and worried by each passing second. your little red dress was the first thing that caught her eye. the way that it hugged your figure and sat right above your knees to reveal the bare flesh of your legs made her want to protect you from the staring eyes of all the men in here and beat them into a pulp for thinking whatever perverted thoughts that clouded their head. the second thing that got her attention was the shine of your lips and how it managed to make them look pouty and tempting to kiss, an urge ellie had fought so hard to restrain. 
she cleared her throat, and laid back nonchalantly, trying to exude this false sense of confidence, “you can say it here.”
you swallowed thickly, “here? i-in front of everyone?”
“yup.”
looking around nervously, you hesitantly agreed as her friends had their eyes on you, completely immersed in your interaction. 
“alright, i guess i’ll just— come out with it.”
you took a deep breath to soothe your nerves. “ellie, we’ve known each other for years now, and in that time, i’ve– uh— grown to really, really like you. i think you’re so pretty and one of the bravest people in town— and— and you’re so intelligent, the way you know so much about space and stuff.”
if someone were to put a tomato next to ellie’s face, the resemblance would be uncanny. 
“what i’m trying to say is— is that i really hope you could give me a chance— give us a chance— and let me take you out on a date and show you how happy i can make you,” your voice shook, “i swear, ellie. i’d make you the happiest girl in the world.”
you opened the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake covered in pink frosting with the words ‘be mine’ in red buttercream and held it out to her. 
ellie was aghast, and she didn’t know what to say. her mind was going a mile a minute, and numerous emotions were shooting through her body. ellie felt so special and loved, a feeling she rarely ever experienced. she was frozen, yet the next words that would utter in her mouth would leave her regretting ever coming to the bar.
“i’m sorry. i— i don’t think i can do this.”
your brows furrowed, “wh-what do you mean?
“you. you’re too much. you’re always hovering, always around, always calling out my name when you see me. you follow me around and i’m sick of it,” ellie couldn’t stop the words from leaving her mouth, “please, just— leave me alone.”
the moment the words fell from her lips, she immediately felt regret. guilt washed over her the minute she saw your face fall and eyes fill up with tears. fuck. she didn’t know what made her lash out at you like that— perhaps it was the alcohol or the fucked up day this was, but she knew there was no excuse to say any of those things to you.
your lips wobbled, and a tear rolled down your cheek, “ellie williams,” you squeaked, “i never wanna see you again.” 
you dropped the boxed cake onto the wooden floor, the frosting flinging everywhere, and ran out of the bar. ellie wanted to run after you so badly, to take you in her arms and kiss your tears away, but she couldn’t. she was a coward. 
“congratulations, you just got 1st place for being the biggest, fucking asshole.” jesse snapped, but ellie didn’t bother responding, knowing what he said was true.
ellie didn’t see you for a week after valentines day, and that transition from hearing your voice call her name every morning, feeling your arms wrap around her neck to hug her before she leaves, and enjoying your home-cooked meals to nothing at all was like night and day. it was quiet and silent, and all the color that filled her days was suddenly drained to a mere gray without you. 
ellie thought that maybe you were just purposely avoiding her, so she started showing up early at the stables before she left for patrol, but you were never there. then, she started walking around the barns, to see if you were occupying your time by tending to the animals, but no, you weren’t there either. 
unbeknownst to ellie, you spent the entire week at home, sulking in your pajamas and shoveling your favorite junk foods in your mouth while watching your favorite 90’s romantic comedy as an effort to mend your broken heart. you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of leaving the four walls of your home after being humiliated by ellie. 
after spending your days cooped up at home, you finally felt ready to come back to work at the barn. it was currently early in the morning, and you just opened the gates to the fence, letting minnie, the chickens, and a couple of the sheep graze on the grass.
as ellie walked towards the stables for patrol, she caught a glimpse of you from her peripheral vision and nearly broke her neck doing a double take. she knew it was you because you were the only one in this town who owned a pair of bright, yellow overalls. 
there you were, leaning against the wooden fence watching the animals as the sun sat on the edge of the horizon, painting hues of violet and saffron across the sky. ellie appeared next to you, leaning her arms against the wood surface. 
“uh, hey.”
you ignored her.
“how’re things?
silence.
“the animals doin’ okay?”
quiet.
“are you just gonna keep ignoring me?” yes. 
you sighed and turned to head back into the barns, not bothering to look at her. 
“i guess i deserved that.” ellie mutters, watching you walk away. she knew needed to apologize to you and she knew just the way to do it. 
the day after ellie’s failed plan of getting you to talk to her, she conjured up a way to apologize to you.
as ellie was coming back from patrol, she carefully held the bouquet of vibrant, golden sunflowers in her hands. she remembered to bring her switchblade to cut them off of their long stems and tie them together into a beautiful bunch.
she knew how much you loved sunflowers, and remembered how you always used to beg her to take you outside of the gates so you could go collect some so you can plant your own. 
with a little pep in her step, ellie was confident that you would love the gift she got for you and you’d surely talk to her again in no time. everything would go back to how it was before. 
ellie approached the entrance of the barn, seeing you tend to minnie and rubbing the side of her belly. a ghost of a smile made its way onto her lips, and she walked towards you, tapping you on the shoulder. 
your head snapped around and looked at her, a neutral expression on your face. no more bright smile.
ellie coughed nervously, and she handed the bouquet of sunflowers to you, “here, these are for you,” you took them from her hands, “they’re pretty, just like you.”
you cautiously looked down at the posy of marigold sunflowers. 
she fucking loves them. i could tell already, ellie thought to herself. she had to suppress the proud smirk that was about to appear on her face. 
but you did something even ellie couldn’t predict. 
you picked one flower from the bunch, and you began feeding it to minnie. minnie took the floret in her mouth, and smacked on it contentedly, clearly enjoying her mid-afternoon snack.
as minnie chomped on the rest of the bouquet, you turned your heel and left ellie alone to her thoughts. 
“god, i’m so dumb,” ellie groans, and she peers at the small brown mammal, “at least someone likes them,” she comments as minnie looks at her with big, brown eyes.
the next morning, ellie came to the stables early, hoping you’d be there, and to her surprise, you were.
ellie had came up with a new game plan to apologize to you. her first mistake with the bouquet was that she was trying to ‘woo’ you with gifts, but maybe what you needed was for her to just be honest with you and to open up. that was what ellie spent the rest of her night doing, writing a deep letter about her feelings for you and how sorry she is for telling you all those horrible things. 
as usual, you were with shimmer, brushing her coat and making sure she was groomed. from the corner of your eye, you could see ellie coming towards you, and you braced yourself.
she stopped in front of you and handed you a red envelope with your name on it. taking it from her hands, she smiles at you and takes shimmer’s leads from you, gently guiding her away. 
ellie took the time to put on shimmer’s saddle and to pack her bag with some extra treats for her during patrol, but she couldn’t help but think of your reaction to her letter. she imagined the smile that graced your face as you opened the letter and saw the little stickers adorning the border of the paper and reading over the black ink. 
but ellie was wrong. very, very wrong. 
as ellie turned her head to sneak a peek at you, she was startled to see you already looking straight at her. maintaining eye contact, you ripped up the letter and tossed it in the pile of horseshit. you brushed off your hands and walked away, feeling accomplished by your petty deed.
ellie turned to shimmer, “i guess i should’ve seen that one coming.”
after a couple of days contemplating what to do with you, ellie decided enough was enough and that she was going to confront you, no matter what. 
the sun had already set, and the moon had overshadowed the dark, night sky. ellie climbed up the stairs of your house, and pressed three loud knocks against your door, adjusting the straps of the guitar gig bag on her shoulders. 
at first, she thought you weren’t going to answer the door, but after a momentary silence followed by a couple of sounds of shuffling, the door swung open. 
ellie assumed you were about to go to bed, as evidenced by your oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants hugging your hips. 
“hi,” you greeted, the sound of your voice surprising ellie after not having heard it for a while.
“hey,” ellie replied, “can i come in?”
you move aside, giving her room to step inside your home.
“where are your parents?” ellie queries, knowing they’d usually be home around this time.
“upstairs, asleep,” you nudged your head towards the hallway, “we’ll talk in my room.”
ellie follows behind you as you lead the way to your bedroom, opening the door and plopping down on your bed. she closes your bedroom door and slowly walks around, almost as if she’s scared to make any sudden movements.
she finally sits on your desk chair in front of you, taking off her guitar bag and setting it down on the floor next to her.
you weren’t sure what compelled you to finally talk to ellie and let her in your home, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease and anxiety. there was no telling what she was really here for.
“i came here because i wanted to apologize,” ellie murmured, “i’ve been trying to apologize for a couple of days now and i’m gonna keep on trying because what i did was really, really shitty.”
you were silent for a brief moment, “...yeah. it was shitty.”
ellie sighed, “i’ll apologize a million times if you want me to.”
“ellie— you don’t get it. you humiliated me in front of the whole town,” your voice cracked, “i don’t think i could forgive you that easily.”
her heart squeezed in your chest seeing the tears well up in your eyes and hearing the little sniffles coming from your nose. it was her fault you were hurt. she did this.
ellie got up and sat on your bed next to you, letting her feelings overcome her and allowing herself to wrap her arms around your frame, holding you close as you cried into her hoodie.
you pulled away from her chest, looking up at her with glossy eyes, “i was nothing but nice to you, els. you could’ve told me something if i was bothering you,” you wiped a tear, “i would’ve left you alone.”
ellie sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, her entire demeanor softening as she was consumed by your presence, “i didn’t want you to leave me alone.”
“huh?” you gave her a confused look.
“look, i’m not really good at showing my feelings. whenever i try to express how i feel or whatever, it goes sideways and i end up fucking up,” ellie explained, “i really do like you, a whole shit ton. i love everything you do for me and i love how you’re always there and how you wear these crazy bright colors and how you talk to the animals in that one baby voice.”
heat rose to your cheeks and it was impossible to hide the blush that spread across your nose.
“i want to be with you,” she confessed, “i just get terrified of being vulnerable and opening up. love makes you do crazy shit and i don’t know— i hate not being in control.”
you were silent, thinking carefully of what to say next. ellie was internally begging for you to say something, anything.
“love means taking risks and being out of your comfort zone, els,” you whispered quietly, “take the leap.”
ellie soaked in your words. take the leap. take the leap. take. the. leap. 
her hand cupped your cheek and she leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, tasting the salt of your tears. ellie’s lips moved gently against yours, not wanting to show any urgency toward you.
she felt your hand creep up to the side of her neck, rubbing against her soft skin as you deepen the kiss. 
ellie pulls away, leaning her forehead against yours, “i’m sorry, baby. please, i can’t bear being without you,” she whispers, “i’m so, so sorry. i’ll never be an asshole to you again.” 
“i’ll forgive you this one time, williams,” you murmur, “but don’t take my kindness for weakness.”
ellie pulled away, taking her acoustic guitar out of her bag and placing it in her lap.
“here, let me sing you a song i know you’ll love.”
ellie’s fingers strummed the strings, playing a chord.
i’ve never known someone like you
tangled in love, stuck by you
from the glue
her voice sang the lyrics to your favorite song, eliciting that beaming smile she’d missed so badly.
don’t forget to kiss me 
or else you’ll have to miss me
i guess i’m stuck forever by the glue
a tear rolled down your cheek, as you were overwhelmed with joy at the site of her singing. something not too many had the privilege of experiencing. 
finding the right words to use for this song
i have you in mind
so it won’t take so long
never thought i’d find you
but you’re here and so i love you
as the lyrics left ellie’s lips, she knew she’d chosen the right song to sing for you. as this song described everything you both have gone through, being attached to each other like glue.
i’m not wrong when i say i’ve been stuck
by the glue onto you
i’ve been stuck by glue
right onto you
i’ve been stuck by glue
the song came to an end, and ellie placed the guitar down, feeling unnerved from you watching her sing for the first time. you sniffle and smiled, throwing your arms around her and hugging her tightly.
“i loved it! you were amazing, els!” you quipped, inciting a small laugh from ellie.
“glad you liked it, babe.”
you pull away slightly to face her, “gosh, how i missed you,” you exasperate, “it was torture having to ignore you for days.”
ellie lets out a laugh, “oh yeah? if anything, i think out of the both of us, you’re the meaner one.”
you smile and shrug your shoulders, “what can i say, williams? you bring out that side to me.”
ellie smiles and pecks your cheek, “and you bring out the softer side to me, baby,” she points out, “isn’t it ironic? we’re total opposites yet we bring these sides out of each other.” 
“yeah, it is a bit funny,” you giggle, “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
♡♡♡♡♡♡
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livlaughloveluke · 2 months
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - 𝐥.𝐜 🪸
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daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🫧
summary- the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..
warnings- fem!reader, not proofread
1.7k
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Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep. 
As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.
Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up. 
Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up  for the day. 
Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.
He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance. 
“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.
“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.
“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“ 
You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.
“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder. 
“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away. 
You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.
But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.
You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.
Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days. 
The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted. 
In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better. 
However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.
Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like. 
So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.
Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.
“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.
“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.
“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.
“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.
“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”
“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.
“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”
“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“
“And how many have asked her out?”
Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.
Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.
“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.
“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.
“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.
“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.
“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.
“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.
“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.
The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out. 
Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes. 
You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.
Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.
“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in. 
“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.
“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes. 
“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.
“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.
-
“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.
“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.
“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.
“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound. 
“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.
“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.
“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.
“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin. 
“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.
“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot. 
“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.
“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.
“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.
“I’d like that.” 
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churipu · 8 days
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hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍
𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.
note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!
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"why aren't you in bed?"
toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.
the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.
small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"
"you weren't there."
old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.
"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.
"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.
despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."
"you're scooping nothing, y/n."
this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.
"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."
toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"
no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.
"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.
brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.
"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.
"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.
toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."
"just shut up."
you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.
"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.
your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"
"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.
his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.
toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.
"sleep."
you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"
"try."
shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."
his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.
here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.
but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.
it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.
toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.
you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"
"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."
he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.
warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."
toji grunted, "for?"
"just . . . everything," you murmur out.
his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.
a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."
"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.
"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.
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vroomvroomcircuit · 2 months
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Avocado Allergy
Summary: Max and his girlfriend are learnign to understand each other's love language
Warnings: mentions of an ex cheating, slight mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation as well as love bombing, but there is also a whole lotta fluff to make up for it
Wordcount: 2.1k
🏎Masterlist🏎
______________________ It’s quiet. A drastic change to the noise that happened mere hours earlier.
But Max relishes in that. After feeling like he is on top of the world with a first place trophy in his hands, he loves feeling grounded again. Especially through her.
(Y/N) head lays on his lap while she reads. Both sitting on the couch that the hotel room offers. Upon checking in they joked about trying not to think about what that piece of furniture has already seen.
Max massages her scalp, concentrating on how her eyes move from line to line, taking in the words that will lead her to a whole story eventually.
In this moment, Max feels at peace.
A peace he never thought he would reach.
A peace, where his thoughts are not full of self-deprecation.
A peace, where he feels enough. Secure. Without a worry.
He presses a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead. “Will you read to me?” His soft voice cuts pleasantly through the silence. (Y/N) smiles and nods, clears her throat and starts to read the words on the pages in front of her out loud.
A peace, they both thought they would never be able to reach. And yet, they are still here. Basking in each other’s presence like it’s their form of ambrosia. Like it’s the only way that makes them invincible to what the world has against them in its pocket.
To get there, to this point, a whole process of understanding each other had to take place first.
It all started during the early days of their relationship.
“I’ll take you out for dinner tonight. Do you want to go for a shopping trip with Victoria for a new dress? You can take my credit card with you.” Max offers as he appears next to his girlfriend on the sofa.
Confused, she takes her eyes off the article she was reading in some magazine that had been laid out on the coffee table. “Is there a special occasion we go out for?”
(Y/N) thinks for herself a few moments. There is not an anniversary approaching. Neither is any of their birthdays. Or a big accomplishment.
So the question is: What did Max do? What will he be apologizing for?
“No reason except for me wanting to have an amazing date night with my even more amazing girlfriend. I just want us to have a good time.” This makes her even more suspicious.
“Oh,” (Y/N) answers, “Sounds like a good idea. But I don’t feel like going out shopping today.”
In reality, she does not want to get a special dress for a night out, just to get told that he cheated on her or that he totaled her car or something similar in that dress. The young woman does not want such negative energy clinging to a piece of fabric that is supposed to be special.
Max presses a kiss to her cheek before getting up again. “No problem, whatever you put on, you’ll be the most beautiful woman. I love you!” Off he goes, probably doing some Max-Verstappen-stuff.
His compliments and love exclamation in combination makes (Y/N) even more nervous for the upcoming dinner. He must have fucked up royally.
Several horror scenarios are going through her mind over and over again while (Y/N) is getting ready.
Did he actually cheat? Would she take him back after a confession like that?
Or maybe he hates her family and wants to tell her that he doesn’t want to spend any more time with them. That she has to decide between him and her family. Can she make that decision again? Would she make the right one this time?
“You look breathtaking.” Max’s eyes begin to sparkle, similar to the eyes of a child upon entering a toy store.
Can this face, the one of a man admiring the current love of his life like she is the most beautiful sight he has ever been blessed enough to put his eyes on, belong to the same person, that will isolate her from her family and friends? That cheats on her and acts like it was her fault for not being there for him 24/7?
For an average person the answer is simple: No, Max is the guy who nearly brought her bridal style to the emergency room because of her period cramps. He is the same one that ran to the store and back in record time to get some ice for the toe she stubbed on a chair leg.
For (Y/N) the answer is also just as simple: Maybe. Because her previous boyfriend also had a pretty face and said I love you. He also went to expensive restaurants and extravagant short trips with her. He took (Y/N) out for designer shopping trips, making her whole family say that she made the right decision by falling in love with that guy.
The same guy, who cheated on her with a close friend and got her some unimportant, but apparently expensive purse. That man, that followed her to the bathroom, giving her compliment after compliment, to make up for all the dates he canceled.
Maybe, they are not the same to the naked eye. But no one really knows what broods under the skin of any person, right?
“What’s going through your pretty head?” Max asks, putting his hand on her thigh while using the other one for the steering wheel. (Y/N) tries to shake his concern off, simply answering with “Oh, nothing much. Just something about work, you know?” But this man never lets up until he gets to the bottom of a problem. “Tell me about it. If it’s bothering you, it can’t be nothing.”
“Why are you taking me out for dinner? What did you do to try and make up for it? Is it in a public space because I can’t make a scene there?” If he wouldn’t have to watch the road, Max would have gotten whiplash by how fast he looked at his girlfriend. “Um, no? I really just want to take you out because you deserve an amazing night out. I genuinely just want to give you a memorable night. But I can turn around and we order something in. I don’t wanna pressure you into doing anything. I know that we can have just as much of a fun night on our couch watching that one show you have been raving about.”
It takes a few minutes for (Y/N) to comprehend what he said. “So, you will not tell me something bad you did? You actually take me out for no reason, no ulterior motive here?” Max caresses her thigh with his hand. “My only motive is wanting to spend some quality time with you.”
And so they did. The couple has a really romantic evening, sharing jokes and laughs over food and candle light, tugged away in a private corner of Max’s chosen restaurant.
This was the first, but unfortunately not the last time (Y/N) has accused the Dutch of having done something horrible.
Whenever he does a grand gesture, gifting her a very nice bracelet or bringing her to a place she has dreamed to see, it is followed by her asking what kind of crime against their relationship code he committed.
It’s starting to take a strain on both of them. “I don’t know what to do”, he vents to his mother over the telephone. “I love her and only her, but (Y/N) somehow has this twisted image of me that I cheated on her or have done something else wrong and want to apologize for that by taking her on vacation or so. I feel like she doesn’t trust me at all!”
The frustration is detectable in his voice. His mother feels bad for her son. “Have you asked her why she suspects something is off? Maybe you gave her a reason for not having her whole trust?” Max thinks about it. He has never really asked. He doesn’t know why.
“I think I’m losing him.” (Y/N) cries to her best friend. They both sit on her couch in her best friend’s apartment. “I’m accusing him of all these things I know that he would never do to me. But whenever he gifts me something expensive I immediately think of my ex and how he did that too, followed by him telling me he totaled my car or made out with some other woman at a party the night before again.”
Her friend looks at (Y/N) with sympathy. “He love bombed you and distorted your whole love map by doing that. You need to tell Max what he did to you. And you both need to work on understanding what the other person needs in order to feel comfortable in the relationship.”
Having been pep talked to, both find the other person in their shared four walls as soon as possible. They sit down and talk about what they need. They open up to each other and try to find compromises.
Later that night, they lie together in bed, cuddled up while some random movie plays in the background to fill the silence. “I have never felt so safe in a relationship than I do ever since we got together” (Y/N) mumbles, drawing shapes and numbers on his arm with her fingers. “I have never been able to be so true to myself while being romantically involved with someone else.”
Max’s heart starts hurting again. While (Y/N) told him about how much her previous boyfriend manipulated her over and over again, trying to win her over with both grand gestures and verbal threats. He gets it, her getting upset over him trying to be the best boyfriend by reading every wish from her lips.
They both learn to understand each other’s love languages. Max loves to spend quality time and by bringing his girlfriend everywhere with him where she could be present, may it be a simple interview where she sits in the background or the big vacation he had planned for the two. (Y/N) is more a lover of the small gestures. A flower there, holding the edge of a table when the other retrieves the fork that has fallen down during dinner here.
Rediscovering how they can love their soulmate best, it feels like diving into a new part of their relationship. They start to feel a deeper connection, a new level to finding each other. It gets to a point where (Y/N) confidently can say she knows Max like the back of her hand. She is better versed in his voice and tone indication than in her favorite songs.
They are out eating at a nice restaurant with a few of the drivers and their partners. It is a nice evening after the intense race weekend they just endured.
“Can I have some of yours?” Max refers to the pasta dish (Y/N) ordered. “Of course”, she smiles and pushes her plate towards him. Max takes a good bite from it, praising his girlfriend’s choice for her dinner. “Can I try yours?” She asks, eyeing his burger. “No.” Max answers shortly after having already taken a bite of his dish.
Lando chokes on his sip of water he just tried to drink. “No? But she just let you try her food. Why don’t you share?” But Max continues to chew his bite, taking his sweet time before answering.
“Do you want me to kill my girlfriend? Because it’s a sure way to do so by letting her have a bite of my burger, since it has avocado on it and she is allergic to that.”
(Y/N) just melts immediately at that. She mentioned her allergy to avocados once in passing to Max while he was making them sandwiches. But he still remembered it, even after it never had come up ever since.
Maybe it’s really not the big things that make you fall in love with a person. Maybe it’s the attention, the eye for the little things, that can make the greater difference.
And maybe this attention is what led to Max not proposing to her in front of a ferris wheel under the light of fireworks but rather in the kitchen of their shared home over a home cooked meal, asking for her hand in marriage on one knee while being shrouded in solitude.
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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tw - unhealthy relationships, non/con, mentions of overstimulation, dehumanization, semi-public sex, and abuse.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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If Arlecchino had it her way, you think you’d be more of a doll than a person.
Not that it would make much of a difference when it comes to how she treats you. To her, all the world might as well be pieces of a chessboard; playthings to pose and position as she deems fit. Knights are sent into righteous battles, pawns are burnt to ash on first line of fire, and you’re made to watch it all from your place on a glass-enclosed pedestal, where the cruelties of the world are visible, but at a distance. That’s a flaw in her little world that Arlecchino hasn’t realized, yet – your eyes, unlike those of the delicate figurines she favors, are not only painted on.
You suppose you should count yourself lucky, when compared to the rest of her unfortunate collection. Most of her pieces are chipped and scarred, sharpened into fine, deadly points only to be discarded when they begin to dull. You, on the other hand, have proved yourself worthy of her maintenance. Your wardrobe is curated to her particular tastes, every style of bow and pattern of lace hand-selected to suit her preferred aesthetics, and she spends each morning running comb after comb through your hair, brushing rouge onto your cheeks, taking leisurely minutes to decide if she’d rather see you in blue or pink or lilac – always light colors, always gentle. You think, sometimes, that you must look like a groomed dog next to her, pastel and ridiculous next to her monotone elegance. Often, you try not to think about how little of a difference it would make if she added a leash and collar to your daily ensemble.
She rarely lets you leave her sight. Of course, obligation does draw her away from you from time to time (a rarity she laments as often as you pray for), but whenever possible, she has you sitting pretty by her side or, better yet, perched in her lap, straddling her waist and sobbing quietly into her chest as her clever fingers bring you to the brink of climax for the nth time in the past hour. The company she keeps rarely makes a difference when it comes to how or when she touches you – although, you do try not to remember how many of her colleagues have seen you with teary eyes and open legs. A doll’s owner rarely questions the way they choose to handle their toy, and so, she’s content not to think about how she handles you. Her only acknowledgement of your suffering is a quick kiss to the cheek as she coaxes you onto your own feet, a muttered comment about the new stain on the dark fabric of her pants. It’s a miracle that you can bear the humiliation of it, but your endurance is a convenience, not a necessity. There’s no reality in which your limitations alone would be enough to stop her.
Arlecchino does, at least, make the occasional effort to pretend she thinks of you as a partner, rather than a plaything. She’s made it clear that, in her ideal world, you’d happily accept the total loss of your autonomy and thank her for each and every second you spend under the torment of her obsession, but she settles for the occasional, trembling smile when she presents you with a gift or confection you lingered on while passing by an especially charming shop, the tender intimacy of your head resting on her shoulder when yet another meeting proves to be more long-lasting than your attention span. On her best days, she’ll even respond to your timid requests to please not leave another bruise on your neck, another fang shaped indentation on your collarbone with a breath of a laugh and a hushed explanation of why she has to, rather than just an outright, wordless dismissal. You wouldn’t quite say she listens to you, but it’s as close as she comes.
Dolls, after all, are incapable of requesting to be played with in a certain way, or asking their owners to treat them more gently, or speaking up about anything at all.
A doll, Arlecchino’s ideal doll, can only watch with a smile as it’s broken apart.
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mitraoki · 2 months
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genshin men brainrot!
note; just something to ease my way back into writing. i truly miss it a lot - considering how much i abandoned it during my recent semester(⊙_⊙;) i hope you guys enjoy it!
cw; a little suggestive, they're just smitten for u, violence but against other people!!
masterlist.
+ wriothesley has this thing where he likes being yanked by the tie. only from his beloved, of course. someone else comes into play and he’s choking them next. the way your fingers wrapped around the fabric, twisting them around your fist, bringing him in closer till your foreheads touch, and your breathing syncopates with his. whether it's for fun, or when the two of you are left alone in his office, that little smirk is painted across his face and the next thing you know, he's smothering you with kisses.
"someone's needy. not complaining, just anticipating is all."
+ on stressful days, alhaitham forgets reality. no, it's not the kind where he forgets to eat or drink, it's the kind where he becomes a full time machine. all he does is take orders, execute them perfectly, and tend to the various other tasks piling up on his desk. for someone always assuring you that his workload isn't as concerning as you thought it was; it was fearsome to see his questionable demeanor when he meets up with you in public. though, it all comes to end when the two of you are alone - did you flip a switch in him or something? - he's wrapping his arms around your figure from behind, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and whispering continuous apologies.
"...what can i do to make it up to you?" + neuvilette loves giving you gifts. it was that one time when you'd mentioned you loved the way he crafted it from scratch, bringing his ideas to life. in a way, it's another huge step for him to understand the little things of a human's life; and you were his number one supporter. there he sits during his free time, getting ideas from some of the melusines about what he should give you next. he takes notes of your likes and dislikes very quickly, but everything has to be perfect, just for you. anything to see that smile of yours bloom time and time again.
"if one's not enough, perhaps i can get you tons more! ....no such thing, this was a piece of cake."
+ kaveh loves styling your hair. he's definitely not the kind to judge the length of your hair - he can work with anything you prefer to have. from hair clips to peonies - his skillful fingers work through your locks, getting them done in a jiffy. he makes sure to not hurt you in the process, too. sometimes he even comes home with a new collection of hair clips, claiming that 'it would definitely look good in your hair!' every single time he finishes, he makes sure to get a good look at you, admiring every facial feature of yours. it ends up making you feel flustered, but he's just so in love with you. just what did he do to have such a lover like you...?
"as beautiful as always, my love."
+ not everyday is sunshine and rainbows for ayato. there were even times where your hand would reach out for nothing but a note on your shared bed, stating that he was off to settle yet another matter which frankly, did not require him at all. it was just regulations he had to follow. though you could see the slight changes in his handwriting, indicating that he wrote them all with a heavy heart. except for the 'i love you.' he wrote that with ease, a reassurance that he will return to your arms. when he does, he swings you around, pulling you in for the biggest embrace. he peppers kisses along the bridge of your nose, lingering around your lips, trailing them down to your chin, your neck. any place he could catch a glimpse of in the moment.
"i've never cursed at time as much as i did today. i hope it treats us well tonight."
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all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.
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ophelisstuff · 4 days
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GOODLUCK CHARM | P.B x C.C x Reader
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authors note : first smut ever written! Had to channel my inner freak for this one LMAO. lmk how y’all like this and feel free to request more
requested by : anon
summery : Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers have a little fun with their girlfriend before the Iowa vs Uconn basketball game.
word count : 1.2k
warnings : sexual themes, cursing, degrading, slightly mean Caitlin, mention of straps, mentions of uconn vs iowa 😔.
“Strip.” Caitlin demanded, startling you as she stormed into the hotel room with Paige following close behind her.
Their unexpected arrival bringing you back into reality as you expected them to be gone out longer.
With the upcoming game between Iowa and Uconn, both Paige and Caitlin had been at each others necks for the past few days.
Giving one another smart remarks and starting petty arguments about who would win. And even daring to ask which team you were rooting for.
Never feeding into the disagreements and laughing at them instead, you enjoyed the few hours of peace you had while they were both away at practice.
Though on the other hand, it seemed as if Caitlin and Paige hated being away from you for the period of time.
Numerous text’s being sent to the groupchat between the three of you. Mostly consisting of Paige and Caitlin’s nonsense while discussing how much they missed you.
“What?” You questioned, your response delayed as you were yet to register Caitlin’s words.
“You heard her, strip.” Paige told you, repeating the words that had exited Caitlin’s mouth — watching as you looked at both of them in confusion.
Nevertheless, you followed the demand. Stripping your clothes off and standing before the two of them — their eyes hungrily trailing up and down your body.
“on your back.” Paige instructed, you finding your place on the bed. Laying as the blond had instructed, watching as both your girlfriends hovered over your bare body.
“Such a good listener.” Caitlin began, her fingers running through your loose hair as she looked at Paige. “Should I get the strap?”
You laid in silence a look of desperation displayed in your face as you listened to the two talk. The urge to satisfy your heat growing in response the unexpected situation.
“No. Save it for later on tonight.” Paige told the brunette, deciding to give you a little piece of the experience. Saving the rest for after the basketball game.
Noticing your neediness, Paige moved her hand down to your pussy — clothed by the damp silk underwear. Her fingertips rubbing light circles on your clit.
Caitlin sucking on your neck, her hands tenderly squeezing your breasts — you couldn’t hold in the loose moans that’s slipped out of your mouth.
“Look at her.” Caitlin scoffed, parting ways with your neck as she looked at both you and Paige. “Barely touched her and she’s moaning like a slut”
Paige smiled at the girls words, sliding her hand into your underwear. Running a finger through your folds — being met with a familiar slick.
“Feel her Cait. Already wet for us” Paige shook her head at you, moving to the side so Caitlin could feel the slick between your folds.
Instead of slipping her hand in your underwear, Caitlin slid the fabric off of you. Absentmindedly setting it somewhere as she smirked at you.
“Look at that. All for us” Caitlin spoke, keeping your legs spread open as both she and Paige looked at your pussy like a piece of artwork.
A short whine exited your mouth, growing desperate for either one of their touches. Wanting to feel something that would take the ache away.
“Needy brat.” Caitlin scolded, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to her — on her knees as she sat face to face with your pussy.
Paige on the bed beside you, fully clothed as her teeth unexpectedly tugged at your nipples. Causing a gasp to exit your mouth in return.
“Keep her still” Caitlin instructed Paige — who gave no answer due to attacking your breasts with her mouth.
Aware of how squirmy you happened to be when getting ate out. The girls often took turns holding the upper part of your body down.
Rolling her eyes, the brunette licked a stripe of your pussy. Watching as you squirmed beneath her, the girl couldn’t help but smirk.
Spitting on your pussy, Caitlin dove in — her tongue sliding over every aching area that you wanted to be touched.
“Caitlin!” You yelled, a string of moans immediately exiting your mouth, Paige’s assault on your breasts making the moans louder.
Unable to fight the pleasure, you tried to hold the moans in. Aware that your hotel neighbors could be in their room — you tried to be quiet out of respect for them.
“Bet no one makes her feel as good as we do” Paige confidently spoke, watching as Caitlin stopped eating you out — lining two fingers up with your entrance.
“I know, and she knows that shit too” Caitlin slowly slid her fingers in glaring at you. Your eyes shut, allowing moans to flow out.
“Look at her, it’s pathetic” Paige said, placing her fingers back on your clit to rub rapid paced circles on the sensitive area.
Slipping her fingers out and slipping them back in, Caitlin pumped her digits in and out of you — meeting Paige’s pace.
Sitting up using your elbows as support, you tried to look at your girlfriends — close to a release that you’d been craving.
“I’m gonna cum!” You announced through a moan, though most the pleasure had slowed down as soon as you did.
“Who’s pussy is this.” Caitlin asked you — Paige beginning to slow down the action on your clit to hear the answer.
Their eyes set on you, almost as if they were daring you to say the wrong answer. Though in the moment, all you wanted was the release you’d been waiting for.
“It’s yours, all for you and Paige!” You spoke nearly immediately, satisfied once the rapid paces had resumed.
Your legs beginning to rapidly shake, a tight knot began to form in your stomach. A throaty moan exiting your mouth as you were met with your release.
“There we go” Paige muttered as both of the girl’s removed their hands from your pussy to gaze at you — out of breath from the orgasm.
“That’s nothing. Just wait until the games over.” Caitlin told you as Paige laughed — the brunette walking into the bathroom to grab a rag to wipe you off with.
“We’ll have to see who our good luck charm’s gonna help win first” Paige reminded Caitlin who rolled her eyes in response — chuckling as she immediately replied
“Yeah, which will be iowa” She looked at you with a grin on her face. “Isn’t that right baby?”
“No, don’t agree with her.” Paige jumped in immediately, setting a pair of lounge clothes that came from your suitcase on the bed. “Everyone knows Uconn is winning this time.
“Oh yeah. and Who told you that — your delousins?” Caitlin replied to her girlfriend, an unwavering smirk on her face as she knew how to get under Paige’s skin.
“You know what. I’m gonna-” Paige began, a threat nearly coming out of her mouth before being silence by you.
“Both of you, shut up and stop acting like toddlers!” You scolded your girlfriends, who immediately dropped the disagreement and moved on as if it were nothing.
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konigbabe · 7 months
Text
eleusinian mysteries
DAY 7 ⇢ Gangbang Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader x Toji Fushiguro x Kento Nanami x Choso Kamo Word count: 4k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; gangbang; oral sex (F & M receive); p-in-v; anal sex (F receive only); pure filth; fingering; cunnilingus; rimming; deepthroat/throatfucking; praise kink; protected sex; ass slaping (like once); pet names (each one calls you differently); basically 4 men 1 female gangbang Summary: How did you find yourself passed around by four men might remain a mystery; at least it's off of your bucket list now. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Divider is mine. A/N: With NSFW Week oficially over with this piece, I wanted to give special thanks to the radiant Fae (@kennedyswhore) for her unconditional support [that kept me from dropping the event], sublime Kit (@vagabond-umlaut) for her encouraging and kind words (that subconciously pushed me to finish each piece), Karma (@kazushawty) who infected my mind with her filth (in a good way) that resulted in this mess (and kudos to her tutorial for this GIF) and to you, who's reading this [series]. Thank you for the support! ♡
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There's a thin line between reality and a dream – which can easily be blurred. Especially when the present blends with the past and gets a hold of the future within its grasp.
"What's this?"
Satoru lies spread wide on the bed; torso bared to the world and stretched out, his physique like an invitation to explore. Especially with the way the moon casts its shine onto the mop of silvery strands that crown his head.
With a soft sigh, you position one knee on the plush expanse of the bed, flicking your eyes on your lover. His curious fingers dance towards the petite diary on your nightstand; a beacon of secret desires nestled in the soft glow of tonight's moonlight.
"A journal," you reply, "of sorts," the mumble that leaves your lips is faint, tinged with skepticism. Unease. Shame maybe – even.
"Can I?" With the book already ensconced in his slender fingers, he throws you a questioning look. Seeks your permission. Your silent approval is conveyed through a gentle dip of your chin.
Satoru unfurls the pages. Flips through them. Hair clinging to his forehead, eyes darting across each paragraph and list; he takes his time reading, studying each entry. Flipping through the pages, you notice the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he reaches the last page.
The last page.
There are no hidden feelings between you. You are an open book for him – now in a more literal sense than ever before.
"This page's interesting," he mumbles to himself, yet his words reach your ears clearly. And you know what he means. A warm flush sweeps across your cheeks, causing your eyes to divert towards the sheets, where your nervous fingers fiddle with the fabric, "is this a bucket list?"
His utterance is clear, and you grasp the implication quickly.
"Yeah, well, everyone has dreams."
You feel the bed on your side dip. Satoru shifts, sits up, the sheets cascading around his lithe waist. Warm breath fans over your cheeks, adding fuel to the fire smoldering beneath your skin. His hand finds its way onto your exposed thigh, thumb caressing the damp skin.
"Yours are rather," searching for the right descriptor, the hand that was on your thigh now slips underneath your chin, gently lifting it to align your gaze with the deep, cerulean depths of his eyes, "provocative."
Filthy. That'd be more fitting, you think.
The answer on the tip of your tongue refuses to budge.
"I like that," he adds after a while. "And if you want," sitting straight, his face now stands in front of you, a breath away, "we can do number three now."
When you don't respond – only watch his face inch closer, lips hover over the curve of yours – he licks a thin stripe across your lower lip.
"And I can arrange number seven if you want," he mumbles against your lips, pushing your face towards his.
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How such a simple conversation led to this will probably remain a bit of a head–scratcher. How Satoru managed to have all of them agree to this will be a mystery. Maybe he has a knack for bringing out people's hidden desires or a way of making everyone comfortable enough to do this.
But these thoughts don't really stick in your mind. Especially with the way Nanami's tongue continues to lick thick stripes over your drenched walls. Back flat against the table, legs up and spread wide. Toji keeps a vice grip on one of your ankles with Choso gripping the other one – the two men keeping your legs open for the blonde man to devour you comfortably.
You'd never imagine there would be a day when all of them would see you like this.
And that there would come a day when you discover the taste of each of their lips; the unique sensation each of their kiss can bring.
Satoru you were familiar with – hungry. Sloppy. Messy. Remaining filled with passion even after years of familiarity. Holding your face with both his hands, cradling your cheeks. Like the first plunge into a lukewarm sea that turns into swirling foam – enveloping and capricious. He always speaks with his entire body; grinding up against you and wrapping his arms around your back. A boisterous lover.
Nanami – Nanami's kiss, on the other hand, is a contrast to Satoru's intensity. It's precise, measured, and full of depth. A slow dance of passion; like the waltz. His hand comes to your face and cups your chin, lifting your head up just the slightest amount of space so that when his lips meet yours, they nestle in there perfectly. His lips meet yours with a calculated tenderness. There's a sense of control and mastery in his kiss, and it leaves you with a feeling of being cherished and understood.
Toji – like a storm. Wild and untamed, coming out of nowhere with an intensity that left you breathless. An untamed force that sweeps you off your feet. Fingers gripping your chin with iron strength, thumb pushing against your lower lip to part for him more. Tongue both demanding and teasing, as if he can't decide whether to be gentle or let the beast out. The taste of danger and desire both eminent on his lips.
And Choso – the perfect blend of sweetness and ardor. His kiss is unexpectedly tender, considering his broad, rough exterior. A hand resting on your nape, not pushing or anything, with the other sliding up and down your arm; making you feel like he had waited a lifetime for this moment and wanted to savor the warmth of your skin under his palms. He tastes like moonlight on bare skin.
So when all four kiss you, the sensation is a whirlwind – a summer storm. A combination of the intensity of Satoru's kiss, the depth of Nanami's, the wildness of Toji's, and the tenderness of Choso's.
"Mmph–fuck," Toji rumbles, teeth showing in a grimace as nails dig into the flesh of your calf. Your fingers tighten around his base when you feel Nanami's fingertips collect your wetness, spread your lips apart before his finger teases your open hole.
You want to answer, urge Nanami to finally let go of the restraints – feeling like hours have passed since he went down on his knees and buried his face between your legs. Yet it's hard to do so when Satoru's cock plunges into your mouth. So deep in your mouth that you can barely breathe as he thrusts it into you; our lips and the back of your throat rubbing raw against its pulsing flesh. You feel him hit a soft barrier and push harder.
Hands slide across your chest. Slick with saliva before the softness of someone's lips envelops one of your nipples. A kiss, soon followed by a nip of teeth. Gentle, exploring – Choso, you guess. Compared to how Toji keeps squeezing the other one. All rough and fast, his thumb flicking over your erect nipple whenever your finger presses against his slit.
"Daamn, baby," you pick up Satoru's mumbles. And with your head thrown over the table's edge, you manage to look up. To see the underside of his chin, see how he's looking up; how his hand continues to caress your hollowing cheek, thumb collecting the tears that spill over your waterline.
A moan slips past the tight seal of your lips when Nanami's finger is finally buried all the way inside your drenched cunt. You arch against him, hips grinding against his moving hand before another one presses down onto your lower belly.
"Don't move, love," Nanami's voice echoes, hot breath skittering over your wet folds moving to your aching nub, "just let me prep you."
You tighten your grip – both of them – which only earns you deep grunts. Choso's teeth swipe over the tender flesh of your breast, over the soon-to-be bruise forming upon his attack. Tongue swirling over the silk-soft skin, making it stiffen with prickly heat. Your moan and twitch at the touch.
Toji flicks your nipple, rolls it between his fingers. Eyes drawn onto the sight before him. On the way your body lies completely bared; body offered on a platter of lustful ecstasy, like a sacred offering.
As Nanami's hand slides inside of you, heat spreads through every inch of your body. His fingers are merciless, relentlessly adding another finger and curling them both up to press against your walls. Searching for that sweet spot, that one point of ecstasy that will have you seeing stars.
"Baby," Satoru whines, thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth to draw your attention to him, "gonna cum. Think you can swallow me?"
Your hands continue to slide up and down Choso's and Toji's cocks, each on either side of you. Satoru stops moving, the throbbing tip of his cock resting on your upper palate. Your tongue swipes over his leaking slit, collecting the briny, pearlescent droplets before swallowing.
"Mhm," you attempt to nod, taking a deep breath through your nose.
"Good," Satoru responds, holding you in place by digging his fingers into the nape of your neck as his cock expands against your throat walls, pushing every nerve ending until a burning pleasure washes over you.
You can feel the heat spreading through your body, coalescing in the space between your legs.
Nanami's fingers continue to massage your walls, pressing against that slightly ridged spot deep inside – the one that tightens your throat, makes you clamp down on his fingers, grip Choso and Toji tighter. Everyone feeling your pleasure rise–
Satoru stills inside you. And you feel him spill. All hot and heavy; flowing over your tongue and melting on your taste buds like an ice cream cone in the summer sun. Tengy but savory.
–and rise until the dam breaks. Warmth flooding your nerves, overwhelming your senses until you surrender to it completely.
Nanami doesn't stop moving. Instead he speeds up, his fingers working you over until you are soaked in sweat; not a single inch of your skin dry or cool.
Fucking you through the first orgasm of the night while Satoru withdraws from your mouth. A feral groan escapes his lips as he watches scant droplets of his cum escape your mouth and rustle down the side of your cheek, smearing the sensuous skin with slick fluids that threaten to drip into your eyes. He leans down and sweeps up the droplets; plunging his sticky fingers deep inside your mouth.
All while the azure depths of his eyes lock onto your hazy gaze, you watching the upside down image of your boyfriend.
"You're so good," he praises, withdrawing his fingers and licking them clean. You can taste it on his tongue; the saltiness, the sweetness of his spent, "ready for the real fun?"
Nanami's fingers scratch your quivering walls once last time. His lips – soft and velour – press against your opening, tongue teasingly licking along the entrance before he stands up.
"Mhm–definitely," you murmur and watch. Watch as Nanami stands up, torso sculpted into perfection. Muscles rippling under pale skin, the veins visible beneath the surface. Your fingers itch, coming closer until the tip of your middle finger nudges against the graven abdomen.
His hips pitch forward upon your touch. Hand tightening around his cock as he gives it a few pumps.
You want it. Want him. Want to feel the stretch as he sinks inside.
"Condoms," Satoru chimes in from your side, stern but only reminding everyone as his hand strokes your cheek. Nanami grips your thighs to spread your legs wider for him. Nodding, he reaches to your side, grabbing one from the small stack of them you prepared beforehand.
With one hand on your inner thigh, her rips open the foil packet with his teeth and rolls it down the length of his leaking cock.
"Ready," he asks to which you nod.
The burn is intense, numbing as you're filled in one smooth motion. His cock feels even better than you imagined it would; slick and hot inside you. You can feel every inch of him, every inch that fills you up. His hands tighten around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stays still.
A mewl cascades past your parted lips. Body shifting, seeking more friction; movement. Nanami responds with a roll of his hips – exploring. Testing whether you opened up for him enough. And when he feels the unrestrained slide of his cock inside you, he can't help it any more. At first it's slow, shallow thrusts that have you biting your lip in anticipation.
"Fuck, get it over with already Nanami or I'm gonna explode," you hear a gruff voice.
Toji.
"Y'know," it sounds more like a moan rather than words but all four sets of eyes snap to your face, "I have two holes, don't I?"
Nanami shudders against your cunt, and you could swear he got more swollen upon your words. Choso's eyes snap to Satoru as Toji grabs the bottle of lube from the table. Yet Satoru's gaze lingers on your blissful expression.
"You sure about that?"
When he asks, your chest tightens, pulse gallops.
"She's a big girl, she can decide for herself," Toji responds, hand on your hip. He nods at you and then turns to Nanami, who looks up at him. They exchange a few words, a conversation that passes by your ears.
"Hey–"
"Satoru," you interrupt the man by your side, hand reaching upwards to touch the side of his neck, "s'okay. It's a gift for me after all."
You whimper when Nanami's cock slides out; now feeling the emptiness all over again.
"Gonna move this to the couch," Choso retorts–
Everything feels weightless. Surreal. Each kiss a caress, each touch a fire. Your thoughts are muddled, consumed by the need for him. For all of them.
–and soon enough, your legs are spread wide around Nanami's waist, his cock nestled deep inside you. You move in tandem, slow and shallow thrusts as you straddle him. He leans back against the couch, his head hidden in the nook of your neck; while at the same time, Choso stands behind it, with your lips sealed around his dripping tip.
Toji stays crouched behind you. Any other day, your face would burn over the thought – of having someone's finger up your ass. It's a strange feeling – the steady pressure of his middle finger as he twists inside you. Even with the generous amount of lube, it takes Nanami a few good thrusts and encouraging words – You feel good. Relax for us, yeah? – to get you mellowed enough for Toji to add a second finger and scissor them inside.
All while Satoru stands by the doorframe; fully naked, skin pale with pinkish hue. It feels as if he's glowing, radiant, when your eyes open and he's standing in your peripheral vision.
The motion tugs at something deep inside you. And you moan around Choso's cock. Hollowing your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against his underside as you feel pleasure washing the shame away.
Suddenly, Toji's presence leaves your body. Letting go of Choso's cock, you hold it in your hand, thumb swiping over the sensitive slit, earning you a grunt of appreciation as Satoru's eyes lock onto yours – and you feel a small smile tug at your corners before–
"What–"
Something wet slithers around your rim as Nanami stills once again. Teeth nipping at the skin on your clavicles, your lips press momentarily against the ridge of Choso's tip, tasting the saltiness before you use Nanami's shoulders to steady yourself enough to twist around. To look at Toji, crunched down, hands spreading your cheeks apart with face buried between them. His eyes, verdant windows to his carnal soul, glint in the faint luminescence as they look up at you; you can't help but gasp, mouth running dry. His tongue like fire, skin searing under his touch as he swirls around your ass before pushing inside.
"Wait, I–ugh–"
Satoru shifts in the corner of your eyes.
But somehow, it feels good. So fucking good and delightful.
"Relax, not my first rodeo," Toji rumbles when he pulls away, sinking his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass; then he goes back for more.
"Feels weird," you let out a chuckle, nodding in Satoru's direction, "but good." Hand grasping Choso's cock – who's been patiently waiting for your return – you kiss the side of the burning flesh while letting Toji devour you.
Nanami's hands slide from their spot on your hips, tracing the curves and dips of your body; settling around the globes of your breasts. They squeeze the abused flesh, kissing the tender spots. Hips having mind of its own, you circle them on top of him, causing Nanami to grow into your skin.
For what feels like an eternity, you stay this way – squeezing, warming Nanami's cock inside your dripping walls. One hand resting at the back of his head as he kisses your chest, massages your nipples and caresses your sides. The other hand moves along Choso's length, lips tightly wrapped around it as you bob your head, Choso's hand resting on top of your head, gently urging you to take more.
With Satoru watching over it all.
"Good," a sharp slap, sting on your ass when Toji finishes and stands up, "arch your back for me, kitten." His hand presses against your lower back, urging you into position.
Your body curves into Nanami's, like water around a rock.
Nanami spreads his legs more, opening you when Toji spread more lube over his cock. Tugs a few times to spread the slick, sticky substance over the condom, dipping the fingers in your ass to loosen the upcoming friction more.
You expect pain; pain of being stretched to the limit. Yet there's none when the tip of his cock slips past your rim and slowly slips inside you – further and further, until his hips are pressed against your ass.
"Fuck–good girl, ain't ya," Toji mumbles, more for himself as he feels the heat of your insides hug him tightly.
"You're doing great," Nanami's lips brush against the shell of your ear, tone quiet – just for you. "Wanna ride us?"
"Mmph–," you nod. Fingers sliding along Choso's cock, taking him in your mouth when you start to move on your own accord.
Which doesn't last too long as pleasure increases, makes it difficult for you to find a good pace. As if he can feel your struggle, Toji grasps your hips, stabilizing the pace as Nanami moves his hips.
Satoru watches on with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as Nanami starts to move; his cock sliding inside you with ease, meeting up with Toji's pace. You can feel both their cocks pushing deep within you, adding fuel to the fire inside.
Their hands never leave your body, grasping at whatever they can reach.
"Ah–" Choso's hips stutter the moment his cock breaches the entrance to your throat. You keep going, deepening the movement with each plunge. The sensation builds up in seconds, making it impossible to keep still as he grunts your name, feeling himself nearing the edge. "Gonna cum–ugh– damn."
His hands grasp your face, hips rolling forward. You grasp Nanami's shoulders, letting Choso ride out his high, his cum sliding down your throat before he slips out – spent and satisfied – and watches with grateful gaze as you swallow him down, not leaving a droplet to escape.
"Shit–," Toji speaks up after a second, "you just got tighter," and he grips your hips, moving Nanami's hands out the way as the intensity of his thrusts increases. "Look at you. Always knew you were a dirty one."
You can't even respond, just focus on the intense pleasure coursing through your veins. Pulling away, Choso takes a step back; steading yourself on Nanami, using his chest as leverage, you pull back. Back meeting Toji's solid chest, his hand wrapping around the side of your neck while he brings your head to his – cheek to cheek, lips pressed against your ear.
"Would kill to have you cum raw on my cock alone," he mumbles. And you know the reason for the quiet whisper. You can feel Nanami's hands move to your hips, steadying them as he thrusts in time with Toji. Together they create a perfect tempo, pushing you closer.
"Ah, ah–" you moan out as their combined rhythm sends pleasure through you, building up the intensity until it takes over every inch of your body. Until your walls shudder around them, body tensing before you let loose.
Nanami doesn't stay behind; his hands slide up your waist to grip your ribs. He feels you tense around him, and the sound of your name slipping past his gritted teeth echoes in the room as he drops his forehead to your collarbones. With one final thrust, he spills inside the condom with a groan. You can feel the tension in his shoulders relax; as if a weight has been lifted from them.
Still in haze – eyes closed – you let out a small sigh, feeling the last of Nanami's warmth seep out of your body before the scene shifts.
Satoru has you pinned against the wall, Toji standing behind. His hands grip your hips, pushing his hard, slick cock inside your loose asshole while Satoru moves in front of you, taking your face in his hands – his hands move down from your chin to your jaw, then to the side, to the sensitive skin along the bottom of your ear and your collarbone. The strong wide thumb of his right hand presses against the corner of your mouth, gently.
So you open up. Legs supported under Toji's wise grip, you offer yourself to the two. You can feel Toji behind you, his breath hot on your neck as he thrusts back and forth. Teeth marking your nape, electrifying your sensitive body – still high from another climax mere seconds ago, yet neither of the two stopped –
Satoru's lips move to your wet cheek before he inches closer again, lips ghosting yours until the tip of his tongue finds its way inside your mouth – warm and wet – a silent command for you to reciprocate, and you do. You let yourself get lost in his kiss while Toji's hips crash against yours, pushing you both forward.
The sensation is overwhelming – a mixture of pleasure and pain as both men push against each other, letting out groans of pleasure and grunts of delight that blur the line between lustful and loving. Primal and affectionate.
"Fuck–kitten," Toji grumbles, chest vibrating against your back, "gonna cum."
And even with the condom on, you feel it. Feel the sudden rush of warmth as Toji's cock pulsates inside you. His name sounds like a prayer on your tongue when he stills, flexing his arms and spreading you wider for Satoru's harsh thrusts to reach deeper. Pelvis massaging your swollen nub each time he buries himself balls deep inside your cunt – raw, unrestrained, without a barrier. Unlike the rest.
All while Toji relishes in the squeeze of your ass, the snug fit whenever Satoru hits that deepest spot inside you and bullies his cock in your walls (even if he hates to admit it).
The sensation sends your body into a new frenzy and you can feel the tension building up. Again. Watching Satoru's eyes close, the crease between his brows deepen. Hips stuttering, his hand cradles your cheek as he lets go. Your arms sneak around his shoulders, face nestled in the sharp contour of his neck.
(With all the sensations buzzing inside your body, in each nerve, you don't notice Toji leaving silently.)
A strong arm sneaks behind your back, the other placed on the back of your neck. Hips pushing into your softness as he grunts appreciatively; you feel the slickness flood your walls, paint it pearlescent white. He holds you close, whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Heat rolling over your body. His voice like honey and the sound of it alone is enough to bring you back to earth.
Until it all ends in a beautiful mess. A gluttony of pleasure, skin slick and breathless.
And somehow, you want more.
"Think we can do round two."
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hom3landr · 4 months
Text
Homelander has a very merry Christmas
18+
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Homelander shakes his head in disbelief as he lounges in his chair at the head of the Seven table. It’s been a year…a whole year since the day you entered his life. He still has the ribbon from that first package, tucked discreetly into his waistband. It’s frayed now and soft from running it through his fingers. He’ll touch his hip softly sometimes, right where he knows it rests, when his ears ring and his eyes begin to burn. Countless lives have been saved just from a little piece of fabric. It was the first gift he’d ever truly been given that didn’t have dozens of corporate strings attached. He wonders if you’ll bring him more candy, now that Christmas is right around the corner. He can still perfectly remember the taste a year later.
But your hands are empty when he sees you, and there’s a nervous stiffness to your shoulders that he’s not sure he enjoys. You’re fiddling with your fingers as you approach. He’s disappointed, he really was looking forward to some candy. But you give him a shy smile and he pushes down the sullenness rising in his chest. You hop up on the table in front of him, a bad habit you’ve picked up ever since that day you brought him the cake. He supposes that’s on him for encouraging you. He ignores the urge to tug you into his lap instead.
“Sooooooo…I don’t have anything for you today but I did want to ask you something.” You look down at your hands before pausing, trying to spark the courage to continue. He tilts his head and waits, somewhat impatient and still annoyed at being denied. He doesn’t like the way you don’t meet his eyes. Surely your fingers can’t be more interesting than him. You take a deep breath.
“IwaswonderingifmaybeyouwantedtocometomyplaceforChristmas?” The words come spilling out uncontrollably and you stiffen up a bit once they’re out, bracing yourself for a denial.
Homelander’s heart stops.
“I know you’re probably really busy and you have plans and other people you’d rather be with.” He doesn’t. “But I was going to make gingerbread and watch some Christmas movies. I don’t have any family close by or…or friends really, so I usually spend Christmas on my own. It won’t be anything fancy but I’ll let you lick the spoon.” You let out an awkward laugh, obviously insecure about the simplicity of your plans. After all, how can your humble apartment compare to Vought’s glitz and finery? How could Homelander be content spending Christmas with a nobody like you?
If you only knew how much the offer wiped away any of the disappointment he felt about the candy. If only you knew how much he’s been longing to join you in the sugar-sweetness of your kitchen. He wants to leap up and take you in his arms. He wants to agree and whisk you away to start the holidays early…and privately. He’s never had a proper Christmas before. Just Vought’s pretty, sterile, fake, holiday bullshit. He found it cruel the way they’d let him watch movies on Christmas when he was in the lab. He still can’t watch A Christmas Story without feeling sick with want. But maybe…maybe this year will finally be different.
But reality sets in. He has the Vought Christmas party. He can’t skip it, as much as he’d love to. He’s been dreading it honestly. She’d always been there before, guiding him, leading him, making sure he got through the event with his shiny grin firmly in place. But that was gone, ended by his own hand. The last fucking bit of Christmas cheer he could have possibly had. He clenches his fist and he watches you shrink back, mistaking his grief for anger at your boldness. He wants to say yes…but he can’t
“We have the company Christmas party, remember? Surely you wouldn’t want to miss that. I get the honor of lighting up the tree” He beams, hoping it assures you that you are not the target of his ire. Sure he’d prefer to be tucked away with you but the party won’t be too bad if you’re there. If you’re there then her absence won’t matter.
But his hopes are quickly dashed.
“Oh I’m not high enough up on the totem pole to be invited, for business or pleasure.” You shrug, clearly not bothered by the corporate snub.
Oh
“Well…I can’t exactly miss it.” Your face falls at his reply and the words tumble out before he can stop them.
“But if you don’t mind staying up a little later, then maybe I can swing by real quick after to grab a cookie or two.” He reaches out to lay a hand warmly on your knee
You return his grin despite the disappointment in your eyes.
“I’ll wait up for you then”
~~~~~~~
It’s late by the time he’s finally released from his shiny decorated prison. He’s sick to death of Frank Sinatra and mistletoe. He barely resisted crushing the hand of every asshole who felt entitled to his attention purely due to the holiday festivities. He gritted his teeth while he was forced to kiss the asses of board members and politicians. He barely avoided lasering A-Train’s head clean off his body when he wrapped his arm around him for a photo op. He’s so overloaded that he’s halfway to his penthouse for some much needed rest when he remembers your offer.
He pulls aside some tipsy asshole for the time, annoyed that no one seems to have remained sober. It’s not long until midnight and he worries that maybe you’ll already have given up waiting. He worries that he’ll get to your apartment to find you already snug and sleeping in your bed. He reminds himself that he can always wake you up. After all, he’s seen you bake until the wee hours of the morning. He remembers when he’d watch you bake till not long before you’d be needing to rise for work. Surely…surely, you haven’t forgotten to wait for him.
The night is frigid as he flies towards your apartment. The cold doesn’t hinder him but it isn’t exactly pleasant as the sharp wind stings his cheeks. He’d always wave away Maeve’s complaints but he reluctantly admits to himself that she had a point about freezing over the Atlantic. Luckily it’s a far shorter path to your apartment building. So he ignores it. The thought of you keeps him warm anyway.
What he can’t ignore is the distinctly human shaped figure waiting on the roof. He knows your form intimately and he’s clocked you the moment he sees you. You’re shivering, wrapped only in an old threadbare bathrobe over some red pajamas. It’s far too cold to be loitering without winter wear and an exasperated concern grows in his chest. Couldn’t you at least have grabbed a jacket? It wouldn’t do for you to catch hyperthermia before he even gets to celebrate Christmas with you. You haven’t seen him yet and he makes sure to land behind you as quietly as he can, lip twitching mischievously.
“Are you cold? You look like you’re freezing” He calls out from the other side of the roof. You leap into the air and stumble a bit too close to the edge for his liking so he rushes to steady you. Even through his gloves he can feel how chilled you are. You look back at him, disbelief on your face but surprised delight in your eyes. You shake in his arms and before his brain consciously makes the decision to, he swiftly detaches his cape to wrap it warmly around your shoulders. Your cheeks heat despite the chill and he’s deeply pleased by the way you look and the way his scent mixes with yours.
“I’m alright. I was waiting for you! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to make it.” You clasp his cape tighter around you, teeth chattering. He pulls you closer so some of his heat can seep into you. He realizes that you may have been too focused watching for him to realize how chilled you are. He tuts at you, both flattered by your devotion and annoyed that you were so careless with your health.
“Would it have killed you to grab a coat?” He rubs your frozen hands between his gloved ones. Your answering smile is sweet and he’d blush if he could (He can. He did.)
“Are you worried about me?” You tease him lightly, eyes soft.
“I was promised gingerbread. If I’m promised something then I expect it to be delivered” He gives you a stern glare that’s tempered by the slight twitch of his lip as he fights a smile.
“Well, I can’t possibly deny you, can I?” Your lips quirk into a cheeky smirk. Your lighthearted words settle warm and heavy in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you feel so beautifully fragile in his grip, a small precious light that he keeps warm between his palms. You’re his. You’re so wonderfully his in this moment and deep within him, so deep he doesn’t even realize it yet, he’s become inescapably, completely, ineffably, yours.
You gesture for him to follow you down the fire escape to your floor. He follows behind as though he doesn’t have the way to your apartment imprinted in his mind. But your legs are stiff from the cold and after you slip slightly on the slick metal of the fire escape, he scoops you into his arms. You cling to him, stunned at the quickness and ease at which he gathered you up against his chest. You’re disoriented and wrap an arm around his neck to steady yourself.
“Don’t drop me!” you squeak and he laughs in response. You’re light as a feather to him and he’s not hindered by you at all. He would never, could never drop you.
“I won’t let you go, ever.” He reassures you and you relax against him, trusting him. You tuck yourself into the crook of his neck, and all of a sudden he has a sharp regret that his collar rises so high on his neck. He longs to feel your softness and your eyelashes brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat. He can’t resist leaning his head against yours as he climbs effortlessly down the thin and rickety steps.
When he reaches your apartment, he assists you in finding your footing and guides you inside. You don’t question how he’s able to navigate your apartment with ease. Stepping into your kitchen is like getting reborn into another life, a life that he had been cruelly denied. You’ve decorated every inch. False snow lines the top of your cabinets and it charms him to see tiny figures and miniature buildings tucked into the fuzzy winter wonderland. Mismatched bowls of ingredients line the counter, and deep red liquid smelling strongly of spice is steaming on the stove. It smells heavenly. It’s the same scent he normally loathes, the artificial scent burning his nose and giving him headaches, one of the few pains that he can experience. But there is nothing faked or imitated here and the rich smell makes his head swim pleasantly. His mouth waters and his jaw aches at the sweet spicy deliciousness in the air. It’s lovely and warm and you immediately shake off the shiver as you enter.
He blinks back sudden tears at the sight of a brightly lit tree twinkling merrily in the corner of the living room, a yule log crackling on the television. It’s perfect. Your tiny crumbling apartment that he would have scoffed at in any other time, is suddenly finer than any palace. His chest tightens almost painfully.
“It’s not much but I did my best to make it festive! The cookie dough is chilling in the fridge and there is as much eggnog and mulled wine as you could want. Help yourself.” You nod at the pot on the stove, hands on your hips, looking as confident as he’s ever seen you now that you’re in your domain. It’s not normally the response he gets when someone sees him in their home. He takes a brief scan of your fridge.
“Just milk for me, thank you.” He responds and you shrug and take a glass out of the cabinet. You fill it up full and hand it over. He takes a big chug. 2%
Perfect
“Well, I’m gonna have myself some mulled wine.” You grab another glass and fill yourself up a healthy serving. A tiny sip has you sighing deeply in pleasure and he wants nothing more than to lick the remnants off your lips. Your temperature is rising by the second and when he’s satisfied that you’re sufficiently warmed he relaxes a bit, wandering around your kitchen to look at everything.
You busy yourself taking a large bowl of dough out of the fridge and lining the counter and a baking sheet with parchment paper and a light dusting of flour. He’s distracted looking through all your cabinets. Nothing of yours is very fancy and it’s all a bit mismatched which he finds charming in a quaint kind of way. He rifles through your dish towels, smelling them to see if your scent still lingers. Then you tap him on the shoulder. He turns to find you with your head cocked and your arms wrapped around a large bowl, eyes shining and bright
“I promised gingerbread but first you have to help.” You wink at his baffled expression before turning around to begin scooping out the dough onto the parchment paper. “And take off your gloves! This stuff can get sticky.”
He’s still standing there frozen when you hand him a rolling pin. He frowns at it disdainfully before raising a skeptical eyebrow. This is so…beneath him.
“C’mon, let your inner kid out a little. I promise it tastes better when you’ve helped make it.” You shake the rolling pin at him.
Inner kid
You don’t have a single fucking clue.
He grumpily removes his gloves. He feels naked without them. He feels so raw, the Christmas cheer welcome but also a painful reminder of everything he was denied. He wants to be here but he feels unsure how to exist in a space when there are no expectations, no predetermined role he can play. Shedding the gloves feels like shedding a layer of skin but he can’t deny you when you look at him like that. You’re still wearing his cape around his shoulders and a sharp possessive pang runs through him.
His
He reaches out to grab the rolling pin.
“Normally people avoid giving me heavy blunt objects” He remarks dryly, although he quickly regrets it. It doesn’t seem to phase you though. You’ve heard the stories.
“You are a heavy blunt object capable of plenty of damage so I don’t think handing you a rolling pin is going to make much difference. Now get to work while I preheat the oven” You reach out to gently push him towards the dough.
He stares at it, frozen.
The dings from the oven ring in his ears.
It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do. The mechanics of a rolling pin are not difficult to fucking grasp. It’s just…none of this feels real. It feels like he’s still back in this lab and this is some cruel dream that will fade away into empty white. It’s like making one wrong move will shatter everything
He can’t lose this.
“Here! The recipe says ⅛ of an inch so you’ll need to roll it like this.” Your breath is hot on his ear as you lean in behind him.
Your hands rest tenderly on top of his as you gently guide him.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Your touch burns and a ravenous monster wakes in his chest. It howls and wails against the prison of his ribcage. He can smell you, hear your heart racing, practically taste the heavy scent of your soaking cunt into the air. The wood creaks under his grip as your thumb brushes against his. His cock is hard and leaking into the tight spandex of his pants. The ribbon on his hip is like a brand; like your hands are on him there too.
Fuck the cookies
The throb of his cock urges him to devour your brown sugar pussy instead.
But as strong as the sudden rush of his arousal, it pales in comparison to the prickling sting of tears at such a kind touch. The last person to touch him like this was…
Fake
Just like everything else
Except you
Except this.
A quiet sob escapes him but if you notice then you don’t acknowledge it. You just keep pushing your palms against his hands in a steady rhythm, the dough easily giving way. Your body rocks against his and the softness of you warms him to the core. He sees the flutter of his own cape out of the corner of his eye.
His
You’re his.
The whole world narrows down to only the two of you.
He could stay here forever with you. Life with you could be like Christmas for eternity. He’d never be alone. You’d never be alone. Just gingerbread scented air and mulled wine, and your body pressed to his forever.
“Alrighty! That just about does it. We just need to get out the cookie cutters and we’ll be good to go.” You pull back.
Something inside him snaps and he turns and grabs your shoulder, tugging you into him. You blink owlishly at him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He reaches out to caress your cheek, relishing the warmth against his bare hand. You lay your hand over his although you make no move to pull away.
“I…” His breath catches.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask breathlessly
You don’t wait for an answer before shyly pressing your lips to his. It lasts barely a second before you're pulling back with a smug little smile. You point up and he barks out an incredulous laugh.
Mistletoe
A sprig of fucking mistletoe is attached to the ceiling.
“I thought you always spent Christmas alone.” He remarks, lips still burning. He’s dreaming. He’s…this can’t be real.
You chuckle.
“I’m not alone this year.” You respond before giving him another sweet kiss that he eagerly returns.
You taste exactly like brown sugar.
He giggles into the press of your lips
Merry fucking Christmas.
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