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#we were dancing under the stars
imessauu · 4 months
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We were dancing under the stars, so lost in the night, I knew better than to need you…
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
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jyoongim · 2 months
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Can I have human Alastor x reader smut n like they’re both virgins n it’s their wedding night like newly weds n he eats her out for first time n they fuccccc n like super fluffy n hand holding n i love yous n both are nervous n shy n adorable pleeeeeaaaase im begging
I almost missed this request but its so cute!!!!
You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your nerves together. 
You had changed into a short silk nightie. Your lacy garters clung to your plush thighs, holding up the thigh highs. You had pulled your robe over it and took a deep breathe.
Tonight was the night.
You had just married the man of your dreams.
The wedding and reception was beautiful; your families danced, sang and drank to their hearts content.
Your aunties had teased you about your wedding night, making rather vulgar comments about how exciting your night was going to be. Your mother had snuck and packed lingerie into your luggage for this moment.
”Oh honey that man there? I know you’re gonna have a wild night.”
”Youre gonna be giving us some little ones by the time y’all come back”
”dearest remember men like it when you do…”
”Oh I can’t to hear everything when you get back”
You had half a mind to change and just put on one of your nightgowns, but you wanted to be sexy. 
It was your wedding night after all.
And you wanted to look good for your husband.
You gathered your nerves and made your way to the living room.
Alastor wasn’t there.
You padded over and poked your head into the kitchen and found the man pouring himself a drink.
”mind pouring me one on the rocks?” You said, making him turn around at the sound of your voice.
Heat pumped to your cheeks as his eyes widened, you held your giggle as you made your way to stand in front of him.
You feigned innocence as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing as he kissed your forehead and handing you a glass of whiskey.
You took a sip, nose scrunching at the taste but smiled as Alastor clinked his glass with yours.
”To us my dear” he said chugging the liquor. You giggled and really took in your surroundings.
You hopped on the kitchen island and sighed “I can’t believe we are married. Oh my stars Alastor we-were really married” you covered your smiling face, feet swaying.
Alastor let out a laugh, coming to stand between your thighs, hands on your waist, smiling at you “yes we are. And I am the happiest man alive doll”
He caught sight of the sheer material on your foot, his brow quirked, making you smile slightly. His hands fingered with the knot of your robe, loosening it and his jaw went slack.
”My momma seems to want us to give her grandbabies soon as possible” you giggled as he toyed with the garter, trailing his finger along your skin.
“That can certainly be arranged” he mumbled to himself, opening the robe to see what you were hiding .
Alastor felt heat rush straight to his cock as he took you in;
The silk garment clung to your figure, hugging your soft curves and making your skin look so soft, your garters teasing him, making him want to use his teeth to rip it off.
You looked gorgeous.
His fingers tapped along your skin, he pushed his hips into the counter as he leaned into you, burying his face in your neck.
The entirety of your courtship Alastor had been a gentleman and did not even try to indulge in you. 
Sure there was heavy petting and intense kissing…
but this oh this was different
The two of you were married now.
It was now acceptable and even encouraged that the two of you would be connected at the hip.
Large hands danced along your thighs and slipped under your nightie to follow the garter straps.
A low groan met your ears as Alastor’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, his teeth nipped at your ear ”No panties doll? Oooh my dear always a vixen”
Your cheeks heat up as you feel his thumb graze the slit of your soft lips, rubbing soft circles on your clit.
”A-Al?” You whined as he littered your neck and shoulder in kisses, nipping at the delicate flesh as his thumb pressed onto the bud that made you tingle.
He hummed before pulling you closer to the edge of the island “how lucky am I to have such a pretty wife?” He drawled, taking his free hand and hooking his finger under your chin and pressing his lips to yours.
”A pretty wife I adore, worship, and would do anything for.” 
You keened as he deepened the kiss, head dizzy with pleasure.
Alastor pulled away and chuckled at your lidded dazed eyes.
You let out a squeal as he heaved you over his shoulder and made his way through the estate. Your breath caught in your throat as you watch your husband remove his shirt, leaving his chest bare.
Your husband was not a very large man no, instead he was tall and lanky. Lean muscle rippled under his flesh and you bit your lips as your eyes roamed over the scars that littered his skin.
Heat pulsed between your legs.
Alastor caught you ogling and flashed you a smile as he crouched between your legs.
Your nerves twisted as he nuzzled the skin of your thigh
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want darlin” he reassured you, running his hands over your legs.
“N-No its okay. I ju- i want to experience the whole wedding night thing. And with you. I want us to explore this new thing together.” You tried to focus else where, pouting, making him smile.
Contrary to what many people thought, Alastor, the dazzling radio host, was not as experienced as one would think.
Not a womanizer, though he looked like it. The old handsome bastard
Alastor slithered up your body, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers, bringing your hand to his lips, thumb fiddling with your shiny wedding band.
”If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable just tell me and we can stop ok?” He said with a serious look.
You nodded and pulled his head to yours, connecting your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching his scalp and massaging his bare shoulders.
The two of you just stayed like that; happily sucking at each other faces, tongues sweeping over each other and pecking lips.
Alastor nipped at your swollen lips, nudging your chin to expose your neck to him ”I want to try something dearest” he said softly,  making you tilt your head.
He slide down until he was kneeling on the floor, his hands on top of your thighs and head wedged between your legs.
You watch his head dip under your nightie and tensed up feeling his breath on your mound.
He brushed his nose against your clit, mouth ghosting over your slit. Your lips formed an ‘O’ as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked!
”Oh!” You gasped, back arching.
Alastor’s tongue swirled around the bud, alternating between licking and sucking on the bud.
His tongue dipped down to tease your quivering hole.
”A-Al!?” You whimpered, hands fisting the covers.
The man propped your legs atop his broad shoulders to angle you better, to slot his mouth against your cunt.
His hands gripped your waist to keep you from withering away from him.
The sound soft suckling and your gasps filled the room.
With a slight pop, Alasto released your throbbing clit and licked a strip up your slit.
He let out a chuckle “Ooh ma cherie you taste as sweet as I always thought” he lifted his head and smiled at you, chin glistening in your juices.
Your face was flushed as you panted. Your fingers pulled at your nightie until the garment was tossed to the side, leaving you bare and only in your stockings.
Alastor’s cock twitched at the sight of your full, perky tits.
He shimmied out of his loose pants, climbing up your body to capture your lips. His hands pulled your legs around his waist as he grinded his hard cock into your wet heat.
You moaned into his mouth as you lifted your hips into his, clit catching onto the tip of his clothed cock.
”A-Al i want…I want to please you as well”
He hummed as his drifted towards your chest, teeth tugging at your nipples before enveloping the mound into his mouth.
You lightly pushed against him to sit up. Lips never parting, you fondled his cock, bristling as he groaned into your mouth and cock hardening within your hand.
”I-Inside p-please Al” you begged, pressing your head against his.
It wasn’t as easy as your aunties had tried to tell you. The magazines made it look easy, but by god!
Your eyes clenched as you gritted your teeth, taking his weeping tip and running it over your folds. Alastor held your hips, kissing your shoulders “darlin don’t force yourself…we can take it as slow as you need” he reassured.
A whimper met his ears and he let out a hiss as your tight warm walls sunk down on him, stopping just shy when met with resistance.
You took a deep breath as you plunged down, a cry leaving your throat “Aaah!”
You buried your face the groove of his neck, nails biting into his skin leaving angry marks.
You felt so full.
It was like you could barely breath, his cock filled every crevice and stretched you beyond limits.
Your fingers never felt like this.
You needed to move, to adjust and get accustomed to him being inside.
Your teeth found themselves bedded into Alastor’s flesh as you finally took the last few inches.
Your sweet husband made sure to soothe you, kissing you cheeks and lips, lavishing your chest in kisses as well, muttering positive affirmations.
”Oh my sweet girl”
”Youre doing so well”
”deep breaths baby, I got ya”
After a while, you let out a shaky moan as Alastor softly kneaded your flesh, before rolling his hips into yours. He groaned as you clenched around him, pupils dilating.
”I-I know we said we would go slow but my god cher, you feel so good”
He took it upon himself to slowly move you. Alastor had heard from other men that a woman’s pussy was like heaven on earth. He used to think they were exaggerating, but your warm, gummy walls hugged him perfectly.
He had been hard since he had tasted his wife. 
You were sweeter than any fruit he’s tasted. He would live between your thighs if he could.
He peppered your shoulder in kisses as he grinded into your heat.
”A-Al!” You whined, body buzzing with pleasure.
Soft moans and grunts filled the room as the two of you made love for the first time.
”Please Al oh my god please!” You moaned throwing your head back against the bed. Alastor was on top of you, head buried in your neck, soft grunts and growls pouring from his lips.
”You gonna cum for me baby?” He purred, hips snapping into yours, your legs wrapped around his waist.
You nodded as your cunt fluttered.
Alastor lifted his head to catch your lips, intertwining your hands.
”c-cum!c-cummin oh Oh fuck my god! A-Al..I’m gonna cum” you whimpered as the ball in your belly tightened.
Alastor smiled against your lips “Its okay. Just let it happen baby. C’mon. Cum on your husband’s cock. That’s it…fuck baby”
You saw white as your body seized. Your thighs trembled as you pulsed around his cock, orgasm ripping through you as you milked him of his first orgasm.
”Iloveyouoloveyouiloveyou” you chanted as Alastor rode out your orgasm, humming in amusement at his wife.
You twitched in sensitivity as his thrusts sped up before he stilled, groaning as he emptied his ball into you.
You both panted,chest heaving as you overcame the sensation of passion.
Alastor curled his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, making you sleepily blink at him
”Was that ok?” He asked nervous
You smiled, pressing a kiss over his heart sighing
”That was perfect” 
the two of you sat in bliss, just taking each other in.
”Al?” You muttered, making the man look down at you
”C-Can I suck your cock now?”
That made the man short-circuit. 
You looked up when you got no response only to see your husband sporting a nosebleed
”oh my god Al!”
He had a silly smile of his face
”I love you my dear”
You giggled, making him tilt his head back
”I love you too”
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“Robbie is gone! I’m still here! And I refuse to live in his shadow!”
Rastapopoulos himself may be out of the picture, but his ghost continues to haunt those who were caught in his web.
A collaboration with @aboardthescheherazade using her OC Marlene Katz - an actress Tintin tries to save in Cigars of the Pharaoh!
Five years later and Tintin is baffled to see Hollywood starlet Marlene Katz turn up at his doorstep asking for help. Formerly under the thumb of Cosmos Pictures, Marlene became an unsuspecting witness to Rastapopoulos’ criminal activity and now the mob is after her, seeking to tie up some loose ends. To top things off, she is due to make a public appearance at The Golden Palm, a prestigious film festival. After years of hiding, Marlene is determined to get her acting career back on track, and this film may be her big break.
Tintin is highly suspicious. Chang, on the other hand, is utterly star struck, and after noticing an uncanny resemblance between the two hatches a ridiculous scheme that may finally put an end to this particular problem. It might just work, but Marlene makes the last minute decision to also go undercover, feeling immense guilt over having Tintin and Chang risk their lives for her.
While Tintin is running around in heels and beating up mobsters Haddock is away on a weekend break with Ramo Nash. Before leaving he asked Chang to keep Tintin away from any incidents and to promise not to throw any house parties.
This was my first collab on this blog and I had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off with Vaye. Her blog was one of the first Tintin blogs I followed - definitely check it out, it’s an absolute treasure trove of resources and research! Below are a few notes of stuff we discussed while making this:
- After the Blue Lotus, Marlene breaks away from Rastapopoulos and pulls back from the film industry to lay low, teaching dance classes instead. He keeps trying to come back to her, leaving her exhausted and paranoid. Since Rastapopoulos always considered Marlene to be pretty stupid he never made much of an effort to properly hide his criminal activities from her, but Marlene was able to slowly piece things together...
- This adventure takes place after St. Benezet’s Basement (the boarding school story) and before Call of the Songbird (Tintin Fucks Up and Steals A Whistle). Tintin is still in the grips of trauma from the canon stories. Chang is starting to settle in. Haddock and Nash’s relationship is in full swing, but they are keeping things quiet from everyone else. 
- In some sketchbook comics I did to flesh out ideas there’s hints of Tintin being gay and asexual, his complete lack of interest in Hollywood actresses and his mild irritation of people’s judgements being clouded by crushes! Chang’s attraction to Marlene however, foreshadows his feelings for Tintin later on down the line.
- There’s a role reversal theme going on here. Both Tintin and Marlene are victims of Rastapopoulos but in very different ways. By playing each others’ roles they both can get a clearer picture of how Rastapopoulos hurt people, and therefore a better understanding of their own traumas. Tintin is usually spontaneous and rarely makes himself known, but here he is playing a set character. Marlene as an actress, on the other hand, is used to receiving direction from others, but circumstance pushes her to improvise. I can imagine her using her skills as an actor to get into character as an ace reporter to fake some much needed bravery!
- Marlene’s disguise is literally just stuff she pulls from Tintin’s and Chang’s closets. She’s wearing Tintin’s trenchcoat, dress shirt and suspenders and Chang’s spectator shoes, trousers and scarf!
- Marlene is a very skittish person but will be compelled to do what she believes is the right thing. As Vaye put it, “Marlene’s bravery under fire is that she’s like the one person in a room who’s willing to get a spider outside...” Marlene is also older than Tintin and pretty much views him as a child, even though he’s in his early 20s at this point. She feels incredibly guilty about what Rastapopoulos did to him and the fact he’s risking his life for her. She feels some level of responsibility for him.
This all started because I thought it would be cool for Tintin to beat some guys up in drag
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
Note
If you are open to request, Max fucking you in the bathroom of the F1 gala because of how good you guys look
The Real Prize || MV1
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut WC: ~900 Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High
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You hid the light of your phone under the table and sent an apologetic smile to Geri as she watched the prize giving ceremony. Max had excused himself to get ready for his award that was coming up, but then he had text you.
Max: Come outside x
You kept your head low as you crept through the rows of tables and out of the event hall, only to have your hand grabbed when you passed through the last door.
“Baby, they’re going to call your name soon.”
Max ignored you as he led you down the quiet corridor and slipped into the bathroom. It was only when the bolt slid across and locked the door firmly in place that Max faced you, hunger in his blue eyes.
“We have time, and you look gorgeous,” he said as he caught the back of your neck and tugged you closer, crushing his lips to yours. You moaned into his kiss and your hands roamed his body, unbuttoning his suit jacket so you could get to his belt free. He spun you in his arms and his hand slipped between your legs as you held his heated stare in the mirror. “We look so good together, schatje.”
“You should have better self-control,” you whispered as his hand teased you over the silk material of your dress.
“I can’t help that I came with the most beautiful woman here,” he hummed in your ear before searing your skin with delicate kisses. “You make it impossible to resist wanting these legs wrapped around me.”
You turned in his arms and he walked you back until your ass hit the marble bench. His fingers snatched at the skirt and bunched it up over your hips that he grabbed to pick you up, seating you at the edge of the sink. 
“Hurry up, Max,” you begged as he unzipped his fly. Needing him just as much, you pushed the trousers down over his ass and dug your nails into the hard flesh. You had found it hard to keep your hands to yourself the moment he had emerged from the bedroom in his tailored suit, his bow tie in his hands as he asked you for help. “You’re going to miss your trophy.”
“Fuck the trophy,” he scoffed as he brushed your panties aside and curled his fingers inside you to find how wet you already were for him. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he smiled at the taste of you on his tongue. “Nothing could beat this prize right here.”
“Stop teasing me, please, fuck me already.”
Max’s smile grew at the needy whine and he sealed his lips over yours to silence the cry you gave as he gave you what you wanted. Snapping his hips forward you were instantly full and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of being stretched out around his cock. 
“Happy, schatje?” he chuckled, trailing his lips along your jaw until he was watching the mirror over your shoulder. You pouted as you were suddenly empty again but then Max was putting you back on your feet and bending you over the washbasin, in front of the mirror. “We look so good together,” he repeated as he entered you.
Your cunt clenched at the sight of him taking you with complete disregard to the prestigious ceremony happening down the corridor. He had nothing on his mind except how the dress accentuated all your best features and how perfect your body fit his, warm and slick around him.
“Max,” you panted as your orgasm drew near, the heat on your abdomen spreading further along your body. “Max, please.”
Max ran a hand down your thigh, hooking behind your knee and raising it to rest on the marble top. The new angle drew quick breaths into your lungs as his cock hit that spot deep inside that had stars dancing around your vision. 
“Look at me, schatje,” he reminded as your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy. You snapped them open and met his startling blue ones in the mirror and noticed the flush of colour on his cheeks, and the thick veins in his neck. 
The sight was enough to throw you over the edge and his spine snapped rigidly as he felt your pussy walls clamp tight around him. He couldn’t have held back if he tried, pleasure ran down him like a lightning bolt and he buried himself as deep as he could when he spilled himself inside. Aftershocks tingled down your legs as you felt him pulsing with his release and his heavy breathing warmed your neck before he kissed it softly and pulled out. 
“Shit,” he swore as he tucked himself away and saw the message on his phone from his boss.
Christian: Where are you?
He didn’t bother replying as you straightened your dress before reaching out for his bow and doing the same. “Go,” you urged with a nod to the door. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Max double checked his hair was sitting right before pecking your lips. “Ik hou van jou.”
“Love you too, now go.” You pushed him towards the door with a laugh as he looked ready to stay for another round. “You’re late!”
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euphoricfilter · 7 months
Text
standing next to you:
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pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers
summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you
word count: 4k
tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!
notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.
The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.
For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.
Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.
There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.
Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.
Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.
He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.
It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.
Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.
Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.
Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.
Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.
So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.
Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.
You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.
It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.
You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.
You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.
You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.
The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”
He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.
“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.
He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.
“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.
Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.
“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.
“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”
“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.
“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”
You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.
Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.
Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.
Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.
You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.
“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.
“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.
Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.
“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.
“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”
You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.
You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.
“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.
“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.
“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.
“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.
“Because of your incompetent husband?”
You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.
“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.
You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.
He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.
You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.
“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.
You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.
Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.
A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.
“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.
Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.
“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.
You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.
Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.
“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.
“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.
“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.
He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.
You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.
“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.
He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.
“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.
“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.
Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.
“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.
Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”
You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.
You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.
“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.
“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.
“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.
You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.
“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”
“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.
Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.
“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.
“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.
He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.
“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”
He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.
“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.
“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”
“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.
“Louder” he shakes your head a little.
“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.
“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.
“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.
“And who do you belong to?”
You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.
“Who?”
You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”
“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”
You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.
He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.
“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.
“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.
He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.
“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.
You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.
He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.
“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.
“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”
Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.
Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.
“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.
Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.
“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.
He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.
His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.
“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.
Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.
“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.
“I can’t” you breathe.
“Run away then” he says, “with me”
Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.
“Jungkook” you warn.
“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”
You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.
“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.
“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”
Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”
You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.
You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”
Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”
The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.
“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.
“I won’t” he promises.
2K notes · View notes
slytherinslut0 · 7 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Seventeen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, DARK THEMES, Sexual Harassment, Asshole!Berkshire, Extreme Depictions of Violence, Blood, SMUT, PIV, Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Emerging from the closet, you and Mattheo shared one more fleetingly charged moment, your eyes locking in a silent exchange laden with unspoken emotions. With a subtle nod, you both returned to your seats, seamlessly slipping back into the roles you had mastered--the poised Ravenclaw and the bad, rebellious Slytherin. The transition was flawless, but beneath the composed exteriors, a storm of emotions raged.
As the game progressed and the night drew on, your eyes locked with Mattheo's from across the circle more times than you could even begin to count--and as the rest of the room remained blissfully unaware, you were acutely attuned to the dance of hidden desires, an intimate connection that thrived in the shadows.
The game of truth or dare continued, growing more wild with each passing round, until most people involved became to tired to continue. In the midst of all of this, Emily and Tom seemed to hit it off, engrossed in their own conversation which seemed to have started before you had even returned from the closet with Mattheo--and as much as the sight was slightly confusing, you were profoundly grateful for the unexpected friendship between them. It undoubtedly relieved the pressure of having to engage with Tom.
As the night wore on, exhaustion settled deep within your bones. Berkshire, thoroughly intoxicated, was gently escorted to his dormitory by Malfoy, his usual disgusting arrogance now replaced by a drunken stumble. Despite the lingering adrenaline from the evening's events, weariness tugged at your limbs, pulling you towards the comfort of your dormitory.
While Emily and Tom remained engrossed in their conversation, you seized the opportunity to excuse yourself quietly. With polite smiles and casual goodnights, you bid farewell to the remaining members of the circle. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, your energy waning with every movement. The echoes of laughter and conversation faded into the distance as you navigated the familiar corridors, the subdued glow of torchlight guiding your way.
Taking a moment to escape the confines of the castle, you stepped into the tranquil courtyard, leaning against the railing and seeking solace under the vast expanse of stars. The night air embraced you, carrying with it a soothing whisper of tranquility. Breathing in deeply, you let the cool breeze wash over you, attempting to shed the lingering tension from your bones after the intense evening you had just endured.
And in the midst of your attempts to find serenity, the peaceful atmosphere shattered like fragile glass, stumbling footsteps making their way toward you. As you glanced over, you watched an inebriated Berkshire stumble his way into the courtyard, bringing himself dangerously close to you, his usual arrogance magnified by the influence of alcohol. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, fixated on you with a disturbing intensity.
"Shit...what do we have here?" he slurred, his words laced with drunken confidence. "A little bird all alone in the night...don't you know it's fuckin' dangerous to be out here all by yourself?"
Your disgust was palpable as you shot him a withering glare. "Save your pathetic lines for someone who cares, Berkshire," you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain. "The only thing dangerous is my dwindling patience at the mere sight of you."
"Why're you such a bitch, huh?" he slurred, his words carrying the stench of alcohol. His proximity was uncomfortably close, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be 'cause you secretly like me, right?"
Your jaw clenched, a mixture of annoyance and disgust bubbling within you. His words were as repugnant as his alcohol-laden breath. The tension you had been trying to relieve was now replaced by a different kind, a sharp pang of frustration at having to deal with his inappropriate behavior.
"I suggest you find your way back to your dorm," you retorted, your voice firm despite the rising irritation. "Your delusions won't make your company any more welcome."
Berkshire's drunken persistence grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard, his obnoxious confidence seeming to inflate with every word you uttered. Before you could process it, he closed the distance between you, his movements erratic, invading your personal space. His clammy hand shot up, gripping your jaw with a force that made your teeth clench, forcing your eyes to meet his in a cruel display of dominance.
"Why won't you just admit it, huh?" he slurred, his words punctuated by the reek of alcohol on his breath. His bloodshot eyes bored into yours, his arrogance seemingly impervious to your clear discomfort. "You can't deny the attraction, sweetheart...I see it in the way you look at me when you think no one's watching."
Your patience snapped like a taut rope. Anger flared in your chest, hot and searing. With a swift movement, you pushed his hand away from your face, your voice cutting through the night with icy precision, a steely resolve in your voice that should have been enough to ward off any sane person.
"Let me make this abundantly clear, Berkshire," you said, your tone as sharp as a blade. "There is no secret admiration, no desire, and certainly no fucking attraction. You're nothing more than a nuisance, and I have no patience for your delusions. Now, back the fuck off before you regret testing my tolerance any further."
Despite your unwavering stance, Berkshire's drunken laughter reverberated through the courtyard, a disturbing echo of arrogance undeterred by your resistance. He jeered, taking another step toward you, his movements unsteady but determined. The cold, unforgiving metal of the railing you had been standing in front of pressed into your back as he cornered you, his breath reeking of alcohol and menace.
Panic clawed at your throat, but you refused to show weakness, your eyes meeting his with a defiant glare. "Berkshire, what are you-"
Ignoring your words, he advanced further, backing you up against the railing until there was nowhere left to retreat. Your heart thundered in your chest, the weight of his aggression bearing down on you. And then, in a moment of terror, he grabbed you, his grip surprisingly strong, squeezing tighter than you had ever expected. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dug into your arms, pain flaring through your limbs. The situation had escalated far beyond your control, and the realization struck you like a physical blow.
"Let me go," you demanded, your voice strained but resolute, despite the fear tightening your throat. But Berkshire only tightened his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, his drunken gaze wild and unpredictable. "Enzo, fuck, stop..."
"Shut the fuck up," he growled, he breath grazing over your neck as he pressed himself against you. "You're such a fucking-"
Before Berkshire could finish that sentence, a familiar voice--one usually somewhat smooth and composed, cut through the air with a terrifying intensity.
"Berkshire…if you don't get your fucking hands off of her," the threat in his tone was unmistakable, a promise of unspeakable consequences if ignored. "I fucking swear-"
But Berkshire, lost in his drunken rage, remained heedless, his eyes glazed over with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement. “Shut up, Riddle…she fucking wants me…”
You caught Mattheo's eyes from over Enzo's shoulder, ones that once held a glimmer of restraint now blazed with an uncontrollable anger that seemed to ignite the air around him. His usual composure shattered, replaced by a raw, primal fury.
In a heartbeat, Mattheo closed the distance between him and Berkshire, his movements fluid and almost supernatural. His hand shot out like a striking serpent, fingers wrapping around Berkshire's throat like an unyielding vice. The grip was tight, a clear message of the danger Berkshire was in.
“I warned you,” he hissed, and with a swift, powerful motion, Mattheo ripped Berkshire off of you, sending him crashing onto the unforgiving stone ground, a stunned gasp escaping his lips upon impact--Mattheo’s throat was shredded with anger as he growled, “I fucking warned you…”
You stood frozen, your lungs burning as you desperately gasped for air, your vision swimming with a heady mix of fear and relief. Mattheo, his eyes ablaze with fury, descended upon Berkshire like a vengeful deity. His arm darted out, fingers clenching Berkshire's collar in one hand while the other transformed into a merciless fist.
“Stay the fuck away from her…you don’t fucking look at her, you don’t even fucking breathe near her…do you fucking understand me?” Mattheo didn’t wait for a response, the first punch landing with a sickening crack, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like a thunderclap. Mattheo jostled Enzo in his grip, practically spitting his words against his face. “No one gets to fucking touch her…no one except me…fucking no one…”
A momentary pause hung in the air, a fleeting heartbeat of stillness, before Mattheo struck again. And again. And again. He was possessed, every punch a release of the pent-up rage that had been simmering beneath the surface, each blow fueled by a primal instinct to protect, to defend, to punish the one who dared to harm you.
Berkshire's face transformed into a grotesque mask of crimson, his features distorted by pain and fear. The courtyard seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Mattheo's anger, the sound of his blows drowned out by the rapid thudding of your heart--and it wasn't until Draco Malfoy, his normally composed demeanor replaced by wide-eyed shock, entered the fray, that Mattheo's onslaught finally came to a halt.
Malfoy, his strength surprising for someone so slender, managed to pull Mattheo off Berkshire, the latter struggling like a wild animal, his rage still burning brightly, his chest heaving with exasperated fury.
"What the fuck happened here?" Theodore dropped to his knees next to his fallen friend, a mixture of concern and disbelief etched on his features as he met your stunned eyes. "Are you okay?"
"I..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind struggling to comprehend the violence that had just unfolded before you. The shock had rendered you speechless, your throat dry and constricted, words caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. "Yes...I'm okay..."
While you attempted to spit out words, Mattheo's heaving form, still seething with raw anger, ripped himself free from Malfoy's hold. With a voice that carried the weight of his fury, he spoke on your behalf, the words sharp and cutting through the air.
"Berkshire thought he could lay his fucking hands on her is what happened," his voice was cold, each word laced with contempt. "After I warned him...I warned him how many fucking times..."
Mattheo's aura, once magnetic and enticing, was now a tempest, an embodiment of wrath that crackled in the air around him. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with his intensity, as if the very stones beneath your feet could feel his fury. It was a chilling reminder, mostly to you, that beneath the composed facade, there was a force to be reckoned with, a protector who would stop at nothing to shield you from harm--and that thought did inexplicable, disgustingly shameless things to your fucking body.
Draco Malfoy, his usual cool composure momentarily shaken, stepped away from Mattheo, his eyes assessing the situation with a discerning gaze.
"Let's get him to the hospital wing," he suggested to Theodore, his voice cutting through the tension. Nott, too, recognized the need for immediate action, nodding in agreement, before briefly meeting your eyes. "I'm sorry about him...there's no way he hasn't learned his lesson now...fuckin' sorry little prat..."
You nodded in response as the two of them lifted Berkshire, supporting his battered form between them. As they glanced between you and Mattheo, it was as though a silent understanding passed between Draco and Nott. Their glances met, a knowing look shared, acknowledging that there was something more beneath the surface of this situation. They sensed the unspoken connection, the invisible thread that bound you and Mattheo together, but they chose not to pry. Instead, they respected the unspoken boundaries, allowing the complexities of your relationships to remain your own.
Meanwhile, Mattheo turned his attention back to you, his eyes a tumultuous blend of emotions, the storm within him slowly subsiding as he registered the shock lingering in your eyes. With a soft yet determined expression, he stepped closer, his presence becoming a comforting shield against the aftermath of the confrontation that had left both of you shaken.
"Raven, I'm so fucking-" he began, his voice thick with regret and unspoken apologies.
"I'm fine, Mattheo." You cut him off, your heart pounding in your chest, the sight of his breathless, bloodied and dishevelled form doing dangerous things to your cunt--and you knew, more than anything, you just wanted to be alone with him. "Please just take me back to your dorm."
His brows furrowed in confusion, but the desperation in your eyes didn't leave room for questions.
"What-" he started to inquire, but you took a step closer, your neck arching slightly to catch his dark, penetrating gaze.
"Take me back to your dorm," you repeated. "Please."
Upon hearing the raw desperation in your voice, Mattheo nodded, his fingers gently finding yours as he immediately led you down the hall and through the empty corridor to his dorm. The moment he pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside, it felt as though the temperature in the room had increased to a million bloody degrees. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a potent mix of fear, desire, and the undeniable pull that had always existed between you, intensified now by the events of the night.
As you cautiously stepped into his dorm, your eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of the astronomy book lying open on his desk. The memory of the last time you had been in his dorm flashed in your mind--the same book, sitting untouched on his desk, an odd object in the midst of his carefully curated chaos.
"Why do you still have this out?" you questioned, your voice laced with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
The question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Mattheo hesitated, his stormy eyes locking onto yours in a moment of vulnerability.
"Can't a man indulge in the mysteries of the stars whenever he fancies?" he retorted with a smirk, attempting to deflect the gravity of the situation. His voice carried a hint of playfulness, but the tension beneath the surface was palpable. "Or perhaps stargazing is an art reserved solely for beautiful little ravens, hm?"
"Is it because of me?" Your stare bore into him, a mix of curiosity and suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Is it because of me that you have this book?”
He didn't deny it; instead, after a long, silent moment, he simply nodded, almost impenetrably, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a silent admission, a confession that hung heavy in the charged atmosphere of the room. In that moment, the undeniable pull between you became almost tangible, the invisible thread connecting your hearts growing stronger, defying the boundaries you had desperately tried to impose.
You stepped toward him. "Did you miss me, Mattheo..."
Mattheo met your gaze, his expression enigmatic yet stoic, a mask of his usual arrogance and charm slipping back into place. His silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension.
Then, in a voice that held a depth of emotion he was trying to conceal, he replied, "Maybe I did, Raven..."
You moved closer, the air crackling with need as you closed the distance, your heart pounding in your chest. When you finally stood before him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you dared to reach out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was warm, and beneath your touch, you could sense the subtle tremor that betrayed the restraint he was exercising. Your breath caught in your throat as you tilted your head, your lips hovering just millimeters from his.
"Don't be shy, Mattheo..." you murmured, teasing him with your fingers as you trailed over his jawline. "Why don't you show me how much you missed me..."
Mattheo's jaw clenched under your touch, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that matched the simmering desire between you. You sighed when his hands, strong and possessive, found their way to your hips, pulling you closer with a magnetic force that left you breathless. His restraint wavered, the barrier between temptation and surrender growing thinner by the second.
"Salazar fucking save me..." Mattheo's voice was a raspy whisper, a plea and a challenge rolled into one, his vulnerability veiled behind a facade of arrogance. "Who the hell are you..."
You leaned in, your lips hovering dangerously close to his, your eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity.
"Sorry to break it to you, Riddle," you purred, your voice a seductive melody that echoed in the charged space between you. "But I'm afraid not even your maker could save you now..." a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your breath mingling with his. "Better start counting your blessings..."
"Blessings, huh?" Mattheo's lips curved into a half-smirk, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'd much rather count the seconds until I can taste those sweet fucking lips of yours..."
His words sent a jolt of desire through you, your heart pounding in response to his brazen confidence.
"Gods, you really are a changed man, aren't you?" You murmured, fighting your smirk as his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. "You were never one to wait for permission before..."
"Raven," his voice was a low, raspy whisper, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter. "You're really testing my fucking patience here...and you should know I'm not a patient man..."
Your smirk grew, heat flushing your cheeks, your fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the underside of his jawline, now, teasingly slow.
"Maybe I enjoy testing your limits…maybe I want to see how far I can push you..." you muttered, your voice laced with playful defiance. "Or perhaps I just like watching you squirm, Riddle...perhaps I want to hear you beg for me..."
Mattheo's patience snapped like a taut wire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and desire.
"Look at you, huh...all fucking smug..." he growled, his voice edged with playful frustration as he peered down at you. "You've kept that pussy from me for over two fucking weeks and now you want to tease me like this? Did you forget how bloody fast I can make you crumble for me..."
Your defiant facade began to crack under the intensity of his gaze, a shiver running down your spine.
"Gods, maybe I did..." your voice barely above a whisper, the defiance replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Maybe I need you to remind me..."
"Shit...there she is...there's my good fucking girl..." he murmured, his tone a mixture of reverence and desire. "...tell me what you want, Raven..."
A sigh of satisfaction slipped past your lips as his hands tightened their grip, his touch searing into your hips as though he was trying to hang on to his last shreds of willpower. With a trembling voice, you met his dark, penetrating eyes, wetting your lips as you let yourself drown in their depths.
"You," you whispered, your voice a husky admission. "I want you."
He exhaled. "Then fucking have me."
In a whirlwind of desire, his lips crashed onto yours, sending your senses into a frenzy. Your eyelids fluttered shut as both of you inhaled sharply through your noses, trying to catch your breath amidst the electrifying kiss. His hands, strong and possessive, tangled in your hair, pulling you closer with an urgency that matched the racing beat of your heart. Your lips parted in a soft groan of surrender, inviting him in, and his tongue slipped between your teeth with a hunger that bordered on desperation.
His lips moved over yours, claiming every inch as though he needed you to survive, and your fingers found solace in the dark waves of his hair, gripping them tightly. Mattheo responded with a primal sound, a low grunt of satisfaction that resonated between your entwined bodies. With a swift motion, he spun you around, his lips never leaving yours, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees met the edge of his bed. The kiss deepened, his mouth exploring yours with a deliberate slowness, his fingers continuing their sensual dance through your hair, pulling you impossibly closer, melting the space between you.
Mattheo's tongue danced a tantalizing dance inside your mouth before he withdrew, leaving a lingering connection between your lips. In that moment, silence enveloped both of you, rendering you nearly motionless, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to say, think, or do. You felt the undeniable hardness of his arousal pressing against your belly, causing a flicker of anticipation to ignite within you. Your hands instinctively moved towards the hem of your shirt, but he halted you with a gaze as hard as stone.
"No," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Let me."
A flush of scarlet painted your cheeks, but you nodded in silent consent, your throat tight with anticipation. His fingers bunched the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up and off of you. As you raised your arms, granting him permission to undress you further, he completed his task with deliberate care. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft rustle, discarded and forgotten, while his eyes roamed over every newly exposed expanse of your skin.
It was a ritual you knew you’d never tired of, the way he looked at your body as if it was a masterpiece, a gift he hadn't been prepared to receive.
Under the intensity of his gaze, a cascade of warmth flooded through you, your skin tingling with awareness. His hands skillfully moved behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease. He pushed it off your shoulders, the fabric gliding down your arms, his fingers skimming over the surface of your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, before gracefully sinking to his knees in front of you. His warm breath ghosted over your belly, holding your stare as to ask for permission before he hooked his thumbs under the rim of your pants and panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.
A shiver rippled through your nerves, sending a thrill down your spine as his molten-gold eyes held yours with hunger that seemed to consume everything in its path. His gaze didn't waver for a single moment, even as he expertly removed your shoes and tossed them aside carelessly.  As he rose, his palms trailed over the contours of every curve, his touch igniting a trail of electric sensations in their wake. He towered over you, a commanding presence that left you breathless, and one of his hands delicately cupped your face, his thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip with a gentle intensity that sent your heart racing.
"Lie back," he murmured.
Your fingers quivered with anticipation as you nodded, succumbing to the electric tension in the air. Slowly, you eased yourself back onto the mattress, adjusting your position so you could lie flat against the soft bedding.
Mattheo prowled around the perimeter of the bed, his intense gaze scorching your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his movements exuding a raw, primal energy. After a moment, he paused, his fingers deftly working on the buttons of his bloodied dress-shirt. With a fluid motion, he peeled off the fabric, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest. His pants followed suit, dropping to the floor until he stood before you in just his boxers.
From this angle, the sight of him made your cheeks flush and your breath hitch in your throat. The raw masculinity and confidence he exuded was both breathtaking and overwhelming, leaving you yearning for more as he loomed over the bed, the outline of his throbbing cock straining the fabric of his boxers doing unspeakable things to your body--the sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.
And even though you knew he noticed, he said nothing, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking more fucking angelic than he ever had before, looking like a man filled with devotion, passion and need.
"Mattheo..." fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You'd never seen him like this. "Matty, I--"
"Shh," he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. "Relax for me, princess..."
You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck. Leaning in, he caressed your throat with his warm mouth and you gasped, back arcing into him. In response, Mattheo purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on your sensitive flesh. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.
A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. "Oh, Gods..."
"Shh," he said again. "Relax, angel..."
The nickname he called only made you want to writhe more. Your mind internally fucking screaming with need. Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.
"My angel," he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. "My fucking sweet little angel..."
He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, hands slowly slithering their way through his messy, yet beautiful fucking hair. As you tightened your grip on his strands, a groan slipped past his teeth, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the outside of your thighs.
"You're doing so well," he whispered into your stomach. "You're so fucking beautiful..."
"Matty..." you whined, his words creating a storm of bliss in your chest. You didn't know what else to say.
"Keep being good for me..." he kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. "Are you ready?"
Are you ready? He just fucking asked if you were ready. As you gazed at him, his pink lips glistening with saliva, eyes smoldering with desire, the answer became crystal clear.
"Yes," you said. "Yes, I'm ready."
Without further hesitation, Mattheo lowered his head between your legs, your entire body jolting in pleasure   as he licked a broad, flat band up your sex, feeling your fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager as he showered your folds with deep, heavy kisses, sending shivers of delight throughout your entire being. Mattheo's hands held your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your core. Your eyes were fixed upon him, unable to look away from the sight of him worshipping your cunt with his mouth.
"You taste incredible," he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. "You know that I thought about this little pussy everyday, don't you?"
Your breath hitched. "Y-you did?"
"Mmhm."
He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed--he was deliberate, taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could. You whined, your clit desperate for attention.
"Matty..." you pleaded, "please..."
Mattheo's gaze met yours as he hummed, sealing his lips around your swollen nub. The intensity of the pleasure collided into you, causing a wracking sob to escape your lips as your eyes closed in ecstasy. His  grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer to his face. As he sucked on your clit, he gradually built up the pressure, block by block, pushing you towards the peak of orgasm.
Your hips relentlessly rolled into him, urgent moans filling the air as you fell further and further toward overwhelming bliss. "Fuck, Mattheo...Gods..."
His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.
"Oh, fuck," you said, "fuck, fuck..."
As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, any words leaving your lips devolved into incoherent wailing. You teetered on the edge, straining against a wall of unrelenting bliss that threatened to overtake you completely. Then, with two hard sucks, Mattheo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Ecstasy consumed you, numbing your skin as your limbs shook and trembled. Every sensation was intensified as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices coated his lips, your core throbbing and pulsing at his chin.
It felt like an eternity before he finally released you, dragging his tongue up the top of your slit as he panted and gasped for breath alongside you. The aftermath of your intense orgasm left both of you struggling to regain your senses.
Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Mattheo...that was..."
"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. "I need you to know how much I missed everything...and I mean fucking everything..."
"Oh," was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.
"From your perfect fucking tits to your filthy little mouth..." one hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. "From those delicious fucking thighs to that pretty little pussy..." he was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. "Every inch of you is fucking perfect...fuck the drugs Raven, you are my insatiable goddamn addiction..."
Every syllable that escaped his lips seemed to caress your very soul, igniting a wildfire of longing within you. His words were like a spell, weaving around your heart and wrapping you in a cocoon of desire. You craved him in a way that transcended the physical, a hunger that went bone-deep. It wasn't just the touch of his skin against yours that you yearned for; it was the merging of your essence, the melding of your souls into an ethereal dance of passion. You wanted to dissolve the boundaries between you, to lose yourselves in a realm crafted solely for your bodies, where every touch and sigh was a symphony of fervor.
And as you met his gaze, there it was, in his eyes--an unnamed emotion that pulsed between you, an unspoken truth that bound you together in a way words could never encapsulate. It was a force beyond reason, an irresistible pull that drew you closer, time after fucking time again.
"You once called me a plague but fuck...you have no fucking idea..." his voice, raw with desire, clawed its way out of his throat. "I haven't even fucked you, Raven...how the fuck have you done this to me?"
Your heart skipped a beat, fingers instinctively curling in his hair. "Do you want to?..."
Mattheo hesitated, as if time itself hung suspended. His eyes searched your face, seeking the truth in your words, and then, he answered, his voice a low rasp,
"Of course I do..." he breathed. "But after what happened tonight-"
"No," you cut him off, your body moving restlessly beneath his. "After what happened tonight, I only want you more...I've never fucking wanted you so fucking badly, Mattheo...it was you who defended me, not Tom, not Zabini, you...it's always been you..."
Mattheo's jaw tensed, his eyes darkening, his chest heaving. "You want me to fuck you..." he said, as though he was trying to make himself believe it. "You want me to take your virginity..."
You nodded, a silent confirmation of your desire, but Mattheo's fingers found their way to your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle, yet firm. He held your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any uncertainty.
"Say it, Raven," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "You know I need to hear you say it. Tell me you want me to take your virginity."
Your breath caught in your throat, his proximity overwhelming your senses. With a shaky inhale, you met his intense gaze, your voice coming out as a mere whisper, "I want you to take my virginity, Mattheo."
"Fucking hell..." he breathed, the desire in his tone making your core scream. "You know that means-"
"I'm yours." You cut him off. "Even though all of this could fuck up my entire future, I don't care...I'm yours...I submit my sanity to the disaster that is sneaking around with you, Mattheo...I don't want the safe option, I don't want soft or subtle...I want dangerous, I want messy, I want sins...I fucking want you..."
"Salazar fucking save me..." he breathed after a long moment of staring at you, shifting himself to pull down his boxers, his throbbing cock springing free, smacking against his belly. "You really are a little fucking devil..."
You clenched at the sight of his dick, head glistening with precum, twitching insistently as he shifted, looping an arm under your neck and cradling your head, his face nestling into your neck while his other hand directed the head of his dick against your wet folds, slicking itself along your wetness, your entire body tensing at the foreign sensation.
He was so fucking big...you weren't sure if, "are you even going to fit...you're so fucking-"
"Shh, Raven." Mattheo huffed against your neck, angling back to meet your eyes, that devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "I'll make it fit."
At his words, you clenched again, unable to deny the intoxication of his primal arrogance, his eyes fixed on your face as he angled himself at your core now, the anticipation radiating off of him only fuelling your hunger, sending thrills through every inch of your body.
"Relax," he breathed, eyes boring into yours, the hand behind your head keeping you in place. "And look at me...I want you looking into my fucking eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
With a nod, you held his stare, and slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside of you, inch by inch, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open, until he was fully sheathed within your tightness. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you to your limit, beyond anything you ever thought possible, and Mattheo only seemed to grow harder with each gasp that left your lips. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of moving right away, he jerked you closer to his chest, his lips softly grazing yours as he brought his hand to cup your jaw.
"Are you okay?" His voice was torn, shredded, nearly unrecognizable.
You nodded, holding his eyes. "I'm okay."
"Shit, Raven..." a deep groan left his chest as he exhaled, pulling out and plunging back in as slowly and carefully as he had the first time. "You're so fucking tight...fuck..."
You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the newfound sensations between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control, the pleasure and pain commingling in your mind as you surrendered to his skilled touch--Mattheo stared at you through it all with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.
"Is this what you wanted?" The low thunder of his voice melted in your ears, and he murmured your name. "Tell me..."
Your fingers dug into his skin, your voice torn between gasps. "Yes, Mattheo..." you mewled. "It's all I've wanted."
He leaned forward, lips feathersoft on yours, kissing you, still easing his cock into you with careful rolls of his hips. The grip at your head soothed your scalp--and you could feel it, could feel yourself blending with his body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you, could feel your pulses pounding in pace, could feel the unspoken, intangible harmony coiling in your blood.
"Who else can make you feel like this, hm?" His embrace constricted you, now, stilling you while he rocked deep into you, stuffing you full, his free hand travelling down your belly, grazing over your clit--and you choked, whimpered, limp in his arms. "Tell me who this tight little pussy fucking belongs to..."
The pleasure was overwhelming, earth shattering, entirely all encompassing. Your lids fluttered, your brain spinning. "Oh, Gods...oh my fucking-"
"Look at me, Raven..." he ordered, voice torn. "Look at me or I'll stop."
Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, nails biting into his skin, heart pounding in your throat as you felt your sanity dangerously fucking close to shattering, your entire body encompassed in a pleasure that you've never known, a pleasure that only Mattheo fucking Riddle could give you, one that burns you from the inside out, one that shatters every inch of your resolve, leaving you bare before him.
"Tell me..." he whispered, his fingers twirling your clit. You could tell he was close, too. "Fuck...fucking say it…”
"You," you mewled, lost in the melted chocolate swirls of his irises. "It fucking belongs to you, Mattheo...fuck...only you..."
"Shit..." he groaned your name, sucking at your shoulder, tongue leaving hot lines on your neck. "You love being dirty for me..." his fingers whirled your clit faster. "You love being my nasty little slut, don't you?"
"Yes, yes, Mattheo..." you wailed, body trembling beneath him. "I love it..."
"Fuck--" A feral kiss bruised your lips, his cock splitting you with long thrusts. "That's it..." he muttered your name against your mouth. "Cum--cum for me, let me feel you..."
You shattered. "Gods--Matty! Fuck..."
Euphoria rended you wide, tearing at the seams of your sanity, and you fractured, convulsing with the sheer strength of your climax. Your walls spasmed around his dick, milking him hard, and Mattheo held you, mouth meeting yours as he came, hips hitting you with every rush of rapture as he quickly followed after you, spilling his release inside your cunt. This seemed to last for minutes, the aftershocks of bliss rippling through your bodies at once while you remained there catching breath, still connected.
You were wilted, spent, a collection of skin and cum and sweat, and when Mattheo finally pulled out, he slumped down on the mattress beside you, pulling you back into his chest, nothing but the collective sounds of your exhausted panting filling the air, neither of you willing to move even though you knew you couldn't stay here all night--but your drooping lids didn't care, your body succumbing to slumber without giving you a choice.
And as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but question how a boy who once had been the bane of your fucking existence, had now become the centre of it.
———————-
Find eighteen here->
1K notes · View notes
roguelov · 8 months
Text
Sleepless Night
Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first
Word Count: ~ 4k
Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)
Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)
Part 2
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MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY
The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.
Yet, one soul was awake.
Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.
The only one, or so he thought.
“You know those things can kill you.”
Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.
“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”
“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”
Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”
You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”
You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”
“Couldn’t sleep, you?”
“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.
Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”
You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”
“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”
This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.
Or you thought it was just for him.
Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.
Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.
You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.
Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”
Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”
Don’t turn back now.
“I said -“
“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”
You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.
And a fool you were for a long time.
He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”
His voice trailed off.
Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.
He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -
Realization finally struck you.
“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”
He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”
“Really?”
You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.
“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.
“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”
Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.
Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”
You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.
Or so it seemed.
You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.
Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?
“Sanji?”
He hummed, almost absentmindedly.
“Could … could I be your first?”
“What?” He whipped his head towards you.
“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”
How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.
“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”
You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.
He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.
“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.
You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”
“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.
He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.
“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.
“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.
“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”
His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”
You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“
“Out here is good.”
You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”
“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”
“Okay then,” you nodded.
You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.
“Relax, Sanji.”
“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“
Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.
You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.
“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.
His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.
You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.
Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.
“Wonderful,” you purred.
You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.
But, you would also have your fun along the way.
You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.
How was he going to last?
You kissed directly over the patch.
Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.
You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.
And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.
Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.
You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.
“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.
You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.
Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.
If only you could hear it so clearly.
Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.
Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.
His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.
You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”
He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”
Fuck.
He could have came right there.
“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.
You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.
And dear god, you were.
Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.
You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.
Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.
You pulled away with a pop.
Sanji nearly whined.
“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”
‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.
Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.
“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”
Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.
He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.
You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.
He gasped, “Love, I - I -“
He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.
But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.
He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.
You moaned, loudly.
This was all so hot.
His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.
God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.
“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”
You moaned a ‘yes’.
That was all he needed.
He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.
Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.
His reaction was priceless.
You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.
Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.
His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.
Fuck, he thought.
He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.
“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”
His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.
Sanji was greedy for more.
You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.
“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.
He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.
“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.
His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -
“Let me.”
Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.
Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.
His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.
Holy shit.
“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“
“Do whatever you need to, love.”
“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.
He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.
“Sanji,” you sighed.
“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.
“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“
His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.
“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”
His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.
“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.
Sanji hummed.
For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.
Another time, he swore to himself.
His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.
Savor you.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”
You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.
“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.
Your foul mouth only encouraged him.
With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.
More. You wanted more.
Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”
Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.
Fuck, he’s a natural.
Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.
You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”
He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”
His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.
He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.
“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.
Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.
Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”
You may have created a monster.
You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”
He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”
I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?
2K notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 8 days
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Propaganda
Rita Moreno (Singin' in the Rain, West Side Story)—She’s an EGOT, an absolute legend for how she navigated her career as a woman of color in the fifties and sixties. Her performance as Anita in West Side Story is why I go back to that movie so many times. She is an icon and she is the moment.
Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life
We are in the quarterfinals of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Rita Moreno propaganda:
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"Amazing showstopping actress in her one big memorable role as Anita in West Side Story. She sings and dances with unmatched joy and energy, and then breaks your heart with her acting. Rita took a role that felt as a stereotype to latina women and made it compelling and multifaceted. Her subsequent career was filled with mostly side roles, but she still managed to excel in whatever Hollywood threw at her."
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"It’s Rita!! The EGOT herself! She can act, she can sing, she can dance, a triple threat. Obviously absolutely iconic as Anita in West Side Story (her part of the Tonight Quintet is the sexiest part of the film, fight me). But before that she was the amazing Zelda in Singin’ In the Rain!?! Thanks Zelda, you’re a real pal."
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"She continues to be amazing but also she's got legs for days."
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"THEE iconic rita moreno, EGOT winner, civil rights activist, theatre legend. watch her documentary "Rita Moreno: Just a Girl Who Decided to Go for It". also her rendition of "fever" on the muppet show"
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Marlene Dietrich:
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ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face
its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies…. most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.
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First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you.
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Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything
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“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”
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The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender
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"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”
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"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."
youtube
"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."
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"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."
"would you not let her walk on you?"
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In Every Life Time
Description: In every life time, you lost him. But in this one, each part of him you lost you find once more, staring back at you with a bit of each one you loved in each life time.
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Percy has had many nightmares ever since he was young, especially since coming to camp Half Blood and being claimed as a son of Poseidon.
But he never liked any other dreams like these ones.
Percy would lay in bed, drift off only to end up somewhere else. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere he liked and somewhere he wasn't in a rush to leave.
Unlike the others before, this was different, but the same all at once.
Percy sat in a field, it was dark out, but the fireflies in the air lit up the sky unlike the stars did.
And Percy was breath taken once more as he stared at the same Goddess he saw every night sitting under the same willow rree, dressed in a white and gold trimmed Greek styled dress.
This time, the Goddess didn't look very...Goddes-Like. She looked younger, the same he always sees her as, but this time she felt it. Like in this dream, she wasn't a Goddess. The very first fifteen years of her life.
Like she was normal, younger, an actual teenager relaxing under a willow tree.
A boy in similar Greek clothing held his head in her lap, smiling up at the Goddess as if she had hung the sun up herself, hung the stars and painted the sky right before him.
Percy knew that look. He saw it every time in glimpses shared between the woman and all of the ones before, every single one different but the same all at once.
He looked a bit just like every one of them.
The same nose as the wood nymph from three dreams ago he had, the same green eyes as the Olympian from six dreams ago he had, black hair like the boy who ran around with a much younger goddess he had, the first dream he had of her.
“I would like to stay here.” Percy could make out the paint words, knowing what the man would say even before he spoke.
He saw the goddess speak, and like before, saw a look of sadness in her eyes as she smoothed her hand over the man's wild and messy hair. Hair just like Percys.
“I…I would like that as well…but we can't.” The goddess said, an almost distant look in her eyes before the warrior took her hand, kissing the back of it softly with a sigh.
“Why? You always say that like you're one step ahead. Why can I not?”
“I- I do not know. But...You will find out soon enough.”
And before Percy knew it, the all too well love scene before him faded in battle cries, swords clanging together and shouts of war.
Percy was in the middle of a battlefield, Gods and Goddess's fighting side by side and some against one another, fires roaring all around, he couldn't make out many faces, the ash burning in his lungs as he coughed.
Only thing he could see were her tears. Her tears as she held a limp, and very much so, dead and familiar man in her lap, brushing her thumbs against his cheeks as she said a silent prayer, her forehead to his almost as if it could bring him back.
She didn't sob, but he could hear her almost silent whispers.
"We should have stayed under our tree. I'm so sorry, my love. Please...find me when you are ready."
And just like that, Percy woke up with the bed shaken as Tyson woke him up, dragging him out of bed, to breakfast, and along the way to Annabeth and Grover with the goat boy he called his best friend, almost tap dancing in what seemed to be joy.
“Percy! I- we got chosen!”
“...What?”
Percy didn't expect for Grover to go on a rant about how the upcoming war was brewing, like he didn't already know.
Annabeth even had to cut in as Grover ran out of breath, giving the boy a moment before he started up again.
“Olympus needs all the warriors they can get. And they chose us to find the Goddess of (Create something you like bc idk)!” Grover fanboyed.
“Who?” Percy asked, confused at his friend's behavior and having never heard of that one. He's heard of, and fought, many gods and goddesses, but he's sure that one would've stuck if he crossed that bridge.
“The Goddess of (you choose).” Annabeth re-stated. “She used to be a mortal, but was captured during a really, really bad war and since the ones who captured her were fighting the gods, they punished her with immortality until-”
Annabeth cut herself off.
“Until what?” Percy probed with a frown, not wanting anyone to withhold information from him anymore.
“Until something. Her story doesn't go on from that, the ones that took her never said where she was. Even after they were sent to the Underworld and punished, she's been missing ever since!” Grover finished, almost shaking Percy by the shoulders.
Percy finally got it.
“So- we have to find her?”
“Yeah! Just like when we found Pan- but this can't be like that. This time, she is alive!” Grover insisted.
“We don't know that.” Annabeth sighed.
“Yes, we do!” Grover wasn't living this down and wasn't letting Annabeth either. “I know it, and we are gonna find her!”
And that's how Percy was dragged along the state, searching the skies, the gardens, underground, in every mythical and every sacred place he could think of.
Until, finally, Grover has led them to a garden of lights. For a seemingly prison, Percy has to admit, it didn't look like it.
Deers laid in the grass, birds chirped to their heart's desire, animals frolicking in the grass, koi and any other fish you could name in a waterfall so clear you could see to the bottom that glowed in the light.
It almost looked real. So surreal Percy didn't expect it. Especially when he leaned a bit too close, and a fish jumped up and scared him, falling back into the lake with a groan and his butt soaked.
He heard Annabeth and Grover yelp, their feet clashing with the water as they ran down after him.
He groaned as Annabeth and Grover dragged him to stand up, he almost barely noticed as both his friends froze in the middle of helping him, and a breeze went just past him.
No, not past him. It seemed to go over his entire body, around his arms, legs, messing up his already wild and black hair, feeling it on his nose, cheeks, lips and his eyes.
“Percy…”
Percy could barely make out Grovers whisper, his friend catching Percy's attention barely.
Percy looked between Annabeth and Grover, confused before he looked to see they were staring at a willow tree. Or, more like under the Willow tree.
Percy could feel his breath taken once more like in his dreams, seeing the same girl from them looking right back at him with the same look on her face
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amelee23 · 25 days
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My hero | Bang Chan
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Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader
Genre: Married fluff, (a tiny bit of angst)
Word count: 2.400
Requested: yes
Warnings: mention of a stomach bug (very briefly) insecurities (both), self-depricating jokes (both), some marriage difficulties, caring for a child, they're EXTREMELY in love, tooth-rotting fluff
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Both you and Chan loved to have your crazy fun, but to a certain limit. A limit you both understood so well, as if it was truly a shared items between your minds. Therefore, after your long awaited wedding ceremony, where tears were shed, dances were danced, cake ended up on the floor and someone's shirt, the bouquet throwing almost knocked someone out, and fortunately no relative started a fight - you both drove peacefully, home. No long flights to Honolulu, no rushing for any 5 star hotel reservation. Just a long, deep sleep.
You awake and instantly chuckle. You barely remember that you basically threw your wedding dress on top of the bedroom door last night instead of finding a hanger. Slept with the door open and all, but you were so exhausted you don't remember even washing your teeth. You turn around gingerly and find your newlywed husband, Chris, to be slightly salivating on the pillow. Nose half shoved inside the fluff, hair every which way and his cute ears poking through, his silver earrings still on. He was a sight to behold, and this sight was truly now yours.
You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, and as you accidently touch his ear he shudders. You procrastinate for a good five minutes, in which you gently pet his hair, and then lean to kiss him on the forehead before you get out of bed.
"No, don't leave." He calls out to you, his voice raspy and his accent thick. You give into the temptation and lay back down next to him.
"Good morning, my husband." You say, and it's so cheesy it makes you giggle.
"Good morning, my wife." He says with a toothy grin. You just married him, and you have a lifetime ahead of you to admire him and love him, and yet you're impatiently urging to jump on him and smother him in kisses for how adorable he looks. Cuteness agression and all.
You decide you won't be eating Chris alive one kiss at the time, and instead you lay your head on his outstretched arm and allow him to wrap the other one around your back, bringing you one breath away from his chocolate eyes admiring you sleepily.
"So, what will be our first important decision taken as husband and wife?" Chris asks you, and you furrow your brows. Does he mean something like deciding to paint the room green or getting a cactus?
"Deciding what to eat for breakfast?" He chuckles at your answer.
"The most important meal of the day! Yeah I think that's a very big decision to make. And as your husband, to showcase my deep trust in you, I allow you to have complete power over this first decision." He speaks so eloquently, you slap him on the arm and he begins to giggle.
"You're just too lazy to help me think!"
"What? Me? Neveeeerr."
"And I'm guessing you also want me to go get said breakfast if you're letting me decide what we eat." Chris pretends to gasp.
"How did you know? See, we're perfect for each other! You can read my mind." He makes that usual tutting noise as he winks at you and you go from adoring him to wanting to shove a pillow in his face. But most marriages are like this, you imagine.
"Fine, I'll do it. Under one condition."
"Anything my wife desires."
"You have to answer why you chose me. Like, as your wife. Why me and not anyone else?"
"Why not?" Chris answers with a laugh and you're reaching for the pillow and he doesn't even try to dodge.
"No but really, why did you?" You try your hardest to not show that this is a real question for you. Not just a joke to put your husband in a tough spot for fun, but an actual curiosity that makes you insecure. And Chan hates it when you're insecure.
"I chose you as my wife." You squint at him in a feeble attempt to understand his words.
"Yeah .... you did, since we just got.... married... But why me?" Chan laughs and flails his arms, probably realizing his words didn't come out very coherently.
"No, I chose you as my wife the entire time. It just took me a very long time to realize it.
When I needed an opinion on a song, for some reason I chose you instead of, y'know, the people who produce music with me. When Seungmin caught that stomach bug and I needed to get him to the hospital, I chose to call you to come with us. When I needed to have a serious conversation with someone, I'd call you up even if I'd be surrounded by 15 close friends in physical range of me. I used to choose you even if it was irrational, even if I was a burden to you-"
"You were never a burden to me, Chris."
"I hope I wasn't." He laughs awkwardly, almost as if embarrassed. "But anyways... Yeah. In the beginning I thought I was just being silly, but then I started to notice what I was doing. When my parents asked me if I've met anyone new, I chose you to talk about. Literally yapped for hours - you should have seen their faces! They knew I was in love way before I did. And when I was tasked with writing a love song...I chose you to write about. And then the next morning I chose to start sending you good morning messages every day. Then when I pictured Valentine's day... There was no other option other than spending it with you. So I chose to ask you out before Valentine's so when the holiday comes I could spoil you. And then I just... Continued to choose you. Over and over again." He finishes with a smile, in contrast to you who started crying many sentences ago. You thought you were done crying after yesterday's ceremony, but Chris is a man full of surprises.
"You even chose me over your career a few times..." You say as more tears escape you, a feeling of guilt washing over you. Although the fact that he sacrificed the thing he cares the most about in this world for your sake should prove his dedication, it also still makes you feel guilty to think about.
"And I'd do it again." He leans closer, wiping the tears off of your face, then taking your hand in his to lay tiny kisses on it. "So you see how I just... Chose you? From the get go? It's like I knew I could rely on you, trust you, love you eternally. From the day we met. So it's not... Anything you said or something specific. I just chose you. All of you. To be mine. All mine." He pulls you into a tight embrace and you feel the way your body wraps around his by instinct. Like you were molded to blend together. "You're mine." He kisses the side of your forehead and butterflies wreck your tummy. "My wife."
"But you could have chosen anyone else..." You still mutter unsurely, but Chris shushes you and pats your head.
"But I didn't. And I won't." He reassures you, rocking you left and right in a calming motion. He truly wishes he would be better at showing you and telling you just how much he loves you, how much he wants you in his life. He could never blame you for having insecurities about yourself, but at the same time he feels although he's failing as a lover if he lets those those thoughts invade your mind. He truly wishes his love could seep into your bones.
"So you don't just want me for my spicy chicken recipe?" You try to joke, to ease the atmosphere, bringing Chan out of his thoughts.
"I mean ... The spicy chicken is included in the package, right?" He continued the joke, but underneath that pearly smile he gave you, Chan was set on making you the happiest wife on earth. Whatever it took.
Even if that meant some arguments, some bumps down the road, and making you uncomfortable with affection and attention until you allowed him to love you well. That was a part of marriage no one warned you about, something you had to figure out along the way - that sometimes you have to make each other uncomfortable in order to grow. Sometimes you have to push some limits to become happier.
And so many years into the future, after the birth of you first son, you pushed a limit that wouldn't even seem humanly possible to Chris. You somehow convinced him to go on tour and leave you alone to care for your son. He was two seconds away from quitting his job and becoming a convenience store worker upon hearing just how many months he'd have to away from you and your four year old son, who needed very much to be around his dad at that age. But you convinced him, reassured him everything was going to be okay in his absence.
"Dada's out there spreading happiness into the world." You whispered to your son, who was sleeping in the same bed as you ever since Chris left on tour.
"Like a superhero?"
"Exactly like a superhero, baby. To every single city he goes, he makes people so happy he saves their lives."
"Dada's so cool." Instead of being able to calm him down to get him to sleep, it seems your son gained energy from the conversation instead. He was now flailing his tiny limbs around.
"Do you wanna watch Dada perform?" There is a video of Chris you have saved up on your phone, from a solo stage he had during a concert where he sang a lullaby. It was the most children friendly performance you had, plus it matched the melodicity of the songs Chris used to sing to you at night to soothe your pregnancy pains.
Your son always falls asleep listening to his father's voice, almost through magic.
When his breathing evened out, you thought it was finally time you kick back and relax with an episode of your favorite show while enjoying some not-so-recommended late night chocolate. As you headed into the hallway, you spotted Chan leaning on the wall and had to glue a hand over your mouth to not scream and wake up your son.
"Chris, you scared the shi- .... heck outta me! What are you doing here?"
"We have a few days off in between stops and I couldn't just sit in a hotel for three days while I was dying to see you two."
"So you're telling me you spent 10 hours on flight, to stay here for one day and then fly back to god knows where?"
"Exactly." He says, face full of dimples and his eyes sparkle in the dark shadows of the hallway.
"You're insane." You laugh quitely.
"No, I'm... a superhero...? That saves lives...? You gotta let me know what you've been telling him, or else he might be disappointed in me when he finds out I can't fly."
"You don't need to fly to be a superhero."
"Oh yeah? Then care to tell me what makes me a superhero?" He flirts with you, gently pushing your hips into the wall behind you as he leans over you. You keep an eye on the door to make sure your son doesn't wake up and walk in to see how big of a flirt his father is. He'll have decades to cringe over it later.
"Remember when I used to feel bad for all the nice things you used to do for me? All the help and the gifts?"
"Mhm." The limits Chris used to push and how they bothered you - they resulted in a lot of friction early on in the marriage.
"And you told me that I need to allow you to make me happy. And since then... I chose to. Just how you chose me to be your wife... I chose to let you make me happy. I chose to allow you to be my hero. It's tricky, because heroes need sleep too ..." You softly caress his cheeks, and even under the dim atmosphere of the hallway you can see the dark bags under his eyes. "and they can't always save the day... but I swear to God you make the world a better place. You make my world a better place. You're my hero."
Chris leans in to kiss you in the same way he did when you were young and unmarried. It's a kiss that burns you, a kiss that makes you feel like a woman. A kiss that made you want to be married. A kiss that teaches you to breathe underwater.
"You call me a superhero when you're literally managing a house, a job, a kid, a long distance relationship, a social life and yourself all at once. And somehow nothing is on fire and you're not losing you mind even when your good for nothing husband doesn't call or text for days."
"Don't talk about yourself like that!" You slap him on the chest, but unfortunately he's not in a joking mood.
"You're the superhero between the two of us, honey. If there's one thing I've learnt along the years it's... That the reason why I chose you as my wife.. the one you were asking me about all those years ago? Maybe there was actually a reason. That you were always stronger than me."
"Me? You're joking, right?"
"Not at all. You're the hero, I'm just trying to be the wind behind your wings. I'm sorry for missing your calls and not video-calling more often, and just.. being gone in general. I've missed you." You decided to drop the subject since Chris seemed too emotional to be coherent. You weren't mad at him for anything, and he surely was undermining himself by calling you the strong one.
Unfortunately, it's not like you would accept the title of hero and he wouldn't accept it either.
The one thing you didn't realize is that you were both superheroes. But it's okay, since your son was onto you a long time ago. He'll protect your secret, and hopefully, also grow into a superhero himself.
©amelee23 do not copy, translate or repost
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✂️ ------------------------------
I'm back bby
Please comment and reblog, a feedback a day keeps a writer's dread at bay!
Soft hours open! Send me your fluff fantasies so we can go delulu together!
443 notes · View notes
b00kdiary · 2 months
Note
Can we please get an Eris x Plus size reader!!! I know he would be feral and you would write him so good >3
I will take ANYTHING for him!!! I trust you completely x
Fire Night | Eris Vanserra
Eris X Plus size Reader
It’s Fire Night and High Lord Eris has to complete the Great Rite. He finds Y/N – he finds his maiden.
Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, creepy Fae dude, and smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
"Nervous?" Lucien teased from beside me, the moonlight and stars above beaming down on his tawny skin and the pleased smile he wore.
"High Lords don't get nervous, little brother," I smirked, winking at him as he scoffed, unimpressed by my sure response.
But even my own arrogance couldn't hide the fire I felt simmering in my veins, the intensity getting stronger and stronger as the moon neared its apex. Mud and grass ground under my feet as we moved through the field, the wind blowing a cool breeze that ran over my short hair, my loose slacks, and my painted bare chest.
As if the earth itself was in anticipation of what was to come.
We stopped at the foot of the field, the slight downhill slope allowing us to see the broad scope of just how many of my people gathered tonight. Hordes of males and females – dancing, drinking, partying. They vibrated with anticipation too.
For Fire Night had come at long last.
It was my first as High Lord. For weeks we had been preparing for the Great Rite, for the moment where all the magic would be funnelled from me into the earth, to the soil and trees, to my court to feed it, to flourish it.
It had been all we had talked about for several months, yet now that it was here, it all felt surreal. I could smell the burning log fires, the clouds of soot misting the night air. I could see my people thrum with excitement and arousal, keen to find a pretty stranger to escape into the darkness with.
But most importantly, I felt my power within me, like a beast rearing its head. I felt it sharpening, honing, as a predator would before the ultimate hunt for prey.
"Has anyone caught your eye yet?" Lucien asked from beside me, metal eye ticking as he glanced sidelong at me. If he felt my restlessness, he did not comment on it. "There are many beautiful females here tonight, Eris. How will you choose your maiden?"
My Maiden. The female whom I would join with – mind, body, and soul for the magic within me to be released.
My senses felt acute now, narrowing the higher and higher the moon rose. My attention upon the females here tonight narrowed too. I felt many of their eyes on me, their attention on me, hoping to be chosen, to be given the honour of the Maiden tonight.
Lucien was right, there were dozens of beautiful females here, so many, and all different – tall, short, fair, dark, petite, curved, brunettes, blondes, redheads and –
My wandering gaze stopped, abruptly. And I could not look away, even if I wanted to.
For there, at the far end of the field, stood near hidden amongst a group of females I saw her. For a moment, the fire in me quelled, the noise around me silenced, and it seemed even the breeze fell still.
For her.
She with that bright smile and those glowing doe eyes. She with luscious hair and skin that seemed kissed by the moonlight. She with that body – fuck, that body. Curves upon curves upon curves. A canvas of flesh that I desired to spend eternity exploring.
To touch and taste and pleasure.
"I don't choose," My voice was like gravel, deepening as I watched her plump lips part and her head tilt back with a laugh. A laugh I desperately wished I could hear. "I will just know who my maiden is."
That's what the Priestesses had told me – you will know, Eris, when you see her. You will feel her presence, you will scent her skin, you will hear the sound of her voice and you will know.
I grimaced as they spoke, biting my tongue to stop myself from smarting about how tradition usually came with little logic. But now, now I understood. Because looking at her, I knew.
Mine. That's what my magic hummed. That she was mine.
"It's beginning," Lucien muttered, twisting his braid from his shoulder to swing down his painted back. I watched her, something sparking in my chest as she giggled, marvelling at the moon slotting into its place high above. And then she began running toward the forest with the crowd.
Grinning brightly, her hair flowing behind her with the breeze of the wind. Her bare feet padded against the floor, her hand holding her skirt high enough to expose the soft flesh at her thighs. Incandescent, like a living star she disappeared with her friends into the trees.
The hunt had begun. I felt it in me, the near-painful heat of my fire within, the tension pulling tauter and tauter as if desperate to escape. Desperate to follow – to follow her, down that path and into the darkness beyond.
"I assume Elain is somewhere in the forest, waiting for you," I smirked at my brother, seeing something glint in his russet eye at the mention of the fair female. "Shouldn't you be off to find your mate?"
The fox hunting his fawn. I felt a mixture of pride and joy as my brother began chuckling, meandering down the hill in search of his wife at my teasing words.
"You have your maiden and I have mine," Lucien winked, his heart racing in his chest as he followed that bond, that invisible string toward his mate. "Good luck, Eris."
I laughed as Lucien moved toward the tree line, following the crowds of giddy, drunken Fae every single one of them in a hunt of their own. The drums quickened their beat, the rhythm marching in time to the pulse in me, that raging storm.
The moon was at its apex. The Great Rite had begun.
And as I stormed down the hill and into the forest's mouth, I too tugged on the invisible string within me, tugged on that insatiable power.
I knew it would take me straight to her.
***
"Sara? Maeve?" I called out again, looking aimlessly through the acres of forest and night. My voice died out in the wind, drowned by the noise of people and the beat of drums. "Guys?"
I groaned as I waded over branches and fallen trees, my Fae eyesight the only thing stopping me from cutting open my feet or falling onto my ass. I lifted my muddied skirt higher, exposing my thighs to the brash wind as I climbed over a huge tree root.
"Guys?" I tried again. I heard a feminine giggle, and I whipped to the right – a male and female rushed past me, kissing, and touching as they waded further into the forest. I shook my head at them, knowing they were one of many seeking refuge in another's arms tonight.
Fire Night, or the Great Rite as some called it was for all accounts and purposes a fuck fest. Simply a huge orgy.
Where the citizens of each court partied and drank and danced through the night, where they loosened their inhibitions and ran away with pretty strangers to engage in activities otherwise taboo. It was the one night where no one cared and no one judged, the one night where every intimacy was encouraged, every orgasm needed to fuel the harvest.
Only the High Lord had a true role tonight. To find his maiden, to join with her and through that release all the power within him back into the land. It was their intimacy that mattered the most tonight, their releases that would take us into a fruitful Spring season.
Sara and Maeve had laughed and scolded me for calling it a fuck fest, for diminishing such an old tradition. And yet, they had dragged me along tonight anyway. I was coaxed with music and dancing and alcohol, told that we would frolic through fields and bask in the moonlight and drink until we couldn't see.
And for a while, we had done exactly that.
We had sipped at the Fae wine until all I could taste was grape. We danced around the log fires with ribbons in our hair and the wind on our skin until our feet ached. We had enjoyed the lovely music, Sara flirting with the lute player, teasing him to come find her in the forest later.
And we had basked in the moonlight, frolicked through the forest, and laughed and laughed and laughed – until about ten minutes ago, when I had lost Sara and Meave in a flurry of people, my hand slipping free from theirs until I was carried away by a wave of the crowd in the opposite direction.
I was lost. And I had wandered far enough out into the forest that no one was here but me. I should have been panicked, should have been scared, but the Fae wine I had drank earlier quelled all those instincts, quelled them until nothing but the faint hum of inebriation remained.
"Not lost are you, darling?"
I jumped at the voice, the rough amusement breaking through the distant sound of music and the far-out litter of voices. I turned, my breath caught in my lungs and latched my eyes upon a male standing not two feet before me.
Dark hair, dark eyes, tall, built, attractive – and staring at me like he wondered what my blood would taste like coating his tongue.
"No, no," I shook my head, tightening my hold around my skirt, my instinct screaming at me that I may need to run. The male took a step forward, eyes darting to the exposed skin peeking under my skirt. "I was just looking for my friends."
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be out here alone," He clucked his tongue. He stepped forward. I stepped back. He grinned and revulsion ran through me. "I can be your friend if you'd like. Take care of you."
I knew exactly how he would take care of me. Knew exactly what depravity was running through his mind as he stalked closer and closer to me. I shook my head again, the forest terrifyingly quiet now as I yielded step after step from him.
"I'm fine, thank you," My knuckles were white from how tightly I held my skirt. I eyed the clearing behind him, the path back to the people and fires and dancing. Back to safety. His dark eyes glinted like he knew he was the one obstacle in my path. "I should return to the festivities – "
"Oh, come on," His voice turned sharp, lethal and I felt bile twist in my stomach as his slender hand clamped around my wrist, tugging me toward him. I smelt the wine on his breath as he yanked me to his side. "We both know you're not here for the music and dancing."
"Let go," I breathed, trying to pull my arm free. He clamped down until it hurt. My wide eyes met his, tears in them as I tried to pull back. "I said – "
"Let go," A voice of a God seared through the air. Tinged with flames and violence. "She said let go."
The male holding me snarled quietly, his drunken gaze ripping from my terrified face to whoever dared interrupt behind him.
His hand was furiously holding me one second and then the next his fingers slipped free. I stumbled back, clutching my aching wrist to my chest and staring at that unnervingly still male as he stared ahead. He was so tall, so broad I couldn't see who was there, couldn't see what had made him so scared.
"I'm sorry," He whispered. His voice cracked. I think I smelt urine too. "I'm sorry, High-"
"Leave," That voice again, as if torn from the Cauldron itself. So much anger, so much death promised in just one word.
And with that command, that trembling weak male scurried away like the vermin he was. Tail between his legs, head bowed and eyes on the floor, so small now as he ran back toward the field. And as he shifted from my eyeline, I saw what, who had begot that fear.
"High Lord," I breathed, the air whooshing from my lungs at the sight of the male stood before me.
Tall, foreboding, broad – Glorious.
I traced his pale, moonlit skin his chest exposed and painted beautifully with intricate dark whorls, every strong hard inch of him. His hair had been cut short, the bright auburn locks like a beacon in the darkness, as were his eyes – amber, and I swore I saw flames simmering in them as he slowly stalked toward me.
The air went taut – as if time and space and life itself had paused at our meeting. And the sight of him, that beautiful, indomitable masculine strength had my body trembling the closer he got.
My back hit a massive tree behind me and suddenly, like a lamb before a lion, I was caged in, trapped. He stopped, so close I could smell the warm cinnamon, the tart apple and rich clove on his skin. I could feel the heat of the fire in his veins, could feel the sweet burn of his gaze as he traced his eyes over my face and body.
"Did he hurt you?" He asked, voice like warmed honey and tart berries. I sucked in a sharp breath when his large hand came forward, tucking my hair behind an arched ear, his fingers brushing my skin just barely. I felt that touch through my whole body.
"No, I'm fine," I whispered, the pine digging into my back. Something in me yearned to go closer to him, yearned to feed into his touch, but I fought it, let the cut of wood against my skin distract me. "Thank you, for your help High Lord."
He stepped closer and I had to crane my neck to meet his furious, wild eyes. His hand lingered on my cheek, burning burning burning. And then his other hand moved, rested against the tree beside my head, and he leaned in, so close I knew he could smell the sweet wine with every shaking breath I took.
"Do you know how I found you, My Lady?" He asked, quiet menace lacing his words. I smelt mint and cider on his breath. I nearly moaned at how good it smelt. He continued when I didn't reply. "I followed my power. Followed the scent of you, the sound of you followed every print you made in the ground."
"Why?" I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as he inched forward, his beautiful face lowering to mine until I could count the freckles across his cheeks, could see the embers crackling in his iris. My eyes fluttered when his nose brushed mine and sparks followed that touch.
"My magic wanted you; it chose you," He said, a growl rumbling through him as he traced his nose across my cheek, letting my scent invade his senses. "My maiden. Mine."
Maiden.
Maiden.
Maiden.
Mine.
There was a lump lodged in my throat as the realisation settled in me. That I had been chosen, that I was the maiden for the Great Rite tonight. Me.
Eris pulled back, dark lashes fluttering as he peered down at me, his aura addictive and dark, assessing each rise and fall of my chest. Calloused fingers cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing along the skin there, leaving fire and need in its wake.
That burning in me it was because of him. It was in response to him.
"Do you accept, My Lady?" He breathed, and the way he addressed me, was full of reverence, of awe. A match for the look in his eyes as he traced my face, languished down my body. "Will you be my maiden? Will you let me worship you tonight?"
Worship me. He wanted to worship me, not the other way around. A night that was for him, that revered his power and yet he spoke as if this ceremony was in fealty to me as if I were the Goddess he would bow before.
That hand languished down my jaw, down my neck, the touch appraising, stopping just at the top of my chest. His amber eyes dipped, darkening at the valley between my breasts, at the material that clung to the small peaks of my nipples.
Worship, that is what his eyes said. Veneration at the foot of my altar.
"Yes, High Lord," I whispered, every word as breathless as the last. His hand on my chest tightened, and the ache that spread through me became nearly unbearable. "Tonight, I am yours."
A tsunami of fire erupted in his eyes at my words and every inch of me was molten at that look. At the promise behind it.
"Then I am yours too, My Lady."
He's upon me before I can even appreciate his words, the oath behind them. And by the Mother, I could taste the fire on his lips, taste the flames burning in his sweet mouth.
My back hits the tree as Eris claims me, his lips moving against mine in a way that could only be described as hungry. Lips and teeth and tongue and spit, the kind of kiss that devoured, that did not leave even an inch of space.
I moaned at the feel of his mouth against mine, moaned more as he pressed his tall, strong body flush against me, letting me map out every muscled inch of him. He growls at the noises that slip from me and into him, one hand curling around the base of my throat and squeezing.
"Eris," I whimper, the breath catching in my lungs as his long fingers close around my windpipe just barely. He groans, like a man starved as I nibble at his lip.
"Say that again," He commands, voice like death incarnate. And every atom in me wants to obey, every atom in me lives to satisfy him.
"Eris," I plead his name again, my back arching against the wood as he begins kissing and biting furiously across my jaw and jugular, the hand at my throat keeping me rooted in place. "Eris, please – "
I cry out at the sound of fabric tearing and suddenly, I feel a cold breeze against my back and hips. More fabric rips and I whimper as Eris yanks my ruined dress from my body, savage as he exposes my naked form to him.
"Fuck," He curses roughly, eyes like Hel itself as he gazes down at my naked body, my dress a ruined heap on the floor behind us now. My body is alight as he traces every inch of me, his chest erratic as he takes in my bare breasts, my stomach and hips, the way I clench my thighs to satiate the ache between them.
"Look at you," He muses, smirking as he runs his hands down the sides of my body, nails scratching at my flesh, his pupils blown out with lust as he takes me in. "Like a blessing from the Mother herself." 
 I croon at the satisfied growl in every word, back bowing when his hands caress down my waist and hips, kneading the skin before settling over my ass. He groans as he fondles the flesh, canines nipping at the base of my throat.
“Eris!” I squeal when his hand claps against my ass cheek, the sound loud in the silence of the forest. He laughs, massaging the hot, aching spot and it’s almost embarrassing how wet I am, embarrassing how I can feel it dripping down my thighs. “Please, please Eris. Take me – “
“I will, my lady,” He mutters, the sound muffled as he circles his tongue around my nipple, teasing the sensitive buds. I lace my fingers into his short, silken hair and I feel him sink down, down, down, my body.
“High Lord?” My voice is shaking as I stare down at him. He’s on his knees before me, amber eyes peering up through long lashes at my naked, trembling body.
High Lord of the Autumn Court. On his knees before me.
“I’ll take you, sweet girl, don’t you worry,” He muses, and I’m not breathing as his hands come to my thick thighs, parting them and moaning at the wetness dripping from my core. His eyes flash to me, molten and cruel. “But a female as pretty as you has to come on my tongue before she can around my cock.”
He looked ravenous as he curled his large hand around my calf and lifted my leg to hook over his broad shoulder. I should have been embarrassed, mortified at the prospect of being naked in the middle of a forest, for anyone to stumble upon.
But as he neared the wet, aching spot between my legs, I didn’t care.
“Oh Gods,” I gasped at the first broad stroke of his tongue through my folds.  Eris growled, a purely satisfied, appraising sound and when he traced his tongue up from my wet hole and to my clit again, my head tilted back against the bark, and I moaned.
I was grateful for the drums and the music pounding through the air, glad for how far into the forest we were, glad that everyone else was preoccupied with their own partners tonight. Because as Eris’s tongue licked and sucked and flicked against my core, I couldn’t contain any of the noises that ripped from me.
Eris groaned, content and satiated, one hand sprawled across my thigh, the other holding down my flailing hip as he lapped his tongue over me again and again, tasting me in a way that had tears brimming in my eyes.
“Taste so sweet,” He muttered, lips plucking back from my swollen clit, the sound so lewd. He didn’t waste any time though, no, he slipped lower, and I whimpered into the night air as he shoved his hot tongue into me, fucking my tight walls furiously.
Eris was a male who took his females pleasure seriously, seemed to feed off it, and seemed to relish it. His tongue slipped in and out of me and his nose brushed my clit back and forth, stimulating two spots that made my body shake from the pleasure.
My climax approached me so fast, that fire that simmered in me from Eris’s presence stoked and suddenly I felt the flames kiss my whole body.
I cried out, his tongue buried in me and his nose toying with my clit, the sounds wet and filthy, his grumble of approval vibrating through me.
“Eris, Eris – “
Everything eclipsed my vision as my orgasm hit me, so hard I felt it rattle my very bones. My back bowed and my eyes rolled, tremors wrecking me as waves of release washed over me. I was moaning, near crying, my stomach and thighs clenching and unclenching as Eris’s tongue lapped and lapped at me.
I felt my release pulsing in the air around us, a living breathing thing. I swear the wind kissed me at the feeling as if nature itself was thanking me for the power I’d let free into the world.
I whined desperately, pushing at his head and writhing, trying to pull my sensitive clit free from his merciless mouth. He chuckled, lips plucking away and relenting. I sagged in relief, back pressed flush to the tree behind me.
“You look so beautiful,” Eris breathed and my heavy eyes blinked open meeting his. He looked beautiful – on his knees, sweat coating his skin, my wetness glistening over his mouth and nose. “I wonder how perfect you'll look coming around my cock.”
He smirked, looking like a Prince of Hel as his hand snaked up my sweating body and wrapped firmly around my throat. He tugged me down, his lips crashing against mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue. My hands fell to his broad, muscled chest and his arm snaked around my back, fingers digging into me.
One second, I was before him and then the next, he yanked me down and flipped me so that I lay on my back against the grass and mud.
I giggled, my heart thundering wildly in my chest as he braced his arms on either side of me, face hovering over mine. The smirk he wore was terrifying, a promise of ruination. I could feel the tension going taut between us, feel his power thrumming in anticipation.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Eris asked, wicked menace lacing every word. I whimpered as his nose brushed mine, one hand slipping between our bodies and pushing down his slacks. He hissed as his cock slipped free, his hand curling around himself and pumping.
“Yes, High Lord,” I whispered, satisfaction filling me when Eris snarled, that title on my lips more arousing than he could think possible. His nails dug into my flesh as he hooked my thigh around his muscled hip, and we both moaned when his tip brushed my centre.
He was big, thick, and long, I could feel it as he traced through my folds, coating himself in me. I curled one hand into his short hair, the other raked down his muscled arm, his skin scorching with intense heat, vibrating with power under my touch.
“Oh – “
He slipped his tip into me, and the stretch from just that one inch was enough to knock the air from my lungs. And then my back was arching against the soft ground, as he pushed in another inch and then another until my walls were burning and my thighs were shaking from the pressure.
“Look at me,” Eris commanded, his voice hissing through his clenched teeth. I blinked my eyes open, meeting a sea of blazing embers. Eris grinned as he maxed out in me, his hips brushing mine as he settled. “Good girl.”
“Er-Eris – “ I choke, my body spasming as he pulls his cock out to the tip, leaving me utterly bare before slamming his hips forward in one brutal thrust, forcing himself back into me until he hits my cervix.
He does that again and again. He pulls out and then he shoves it back in. Every last inch. And I scream for him, I clench around him, I let him ruin me.
My body trembles as Eris begins fucking into me, his hips rolling hard and deep, stretching my tight walls until all the pain vanishes and becomes a pure, euphoric pleasure. His pace is brutal, unforgiving, his hold on my body bruising as he forces me to adjust, forces me to take it.
“Just like that,” He praises the voice of a God, the voice of a High Lord, a male who was in complete control. His lips meet mine, teeth and spit, biting my lips and battling my tongue as he moves inside me.
It was like no other experience I’d ever had, like sleeping with no other male. I felt every stroke through my whole body, felt every brush of his tip in the spongey spot deep in me through my blood and veins. Was it because he was a High Lord? Was it because of the Great Rite? It had never felt this good before.
And Eris seemed to know it, he seemed to feel the same. The noises that came from the High Lord, the snarls and growls, the grumble of deep groans that reverberated into me as he sunk in at a different angle. The small whimpers and desperate moans as I kissed and suckled his lips, his jaw and neck.
His hips jolt into me, hard and deep and fast, hitting a spot that makes tears leak down my cheeks. Tears that Eris chuckles at, a sardonic sound before he gently licks them away. His kisses were soft, so at odds with how his cock fucked me raw.
“Eris,” My mouth gapes open as that familiar pool in me begins to fill. “Oh Gods, Eris I’m going to come – “
His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing in intervals around my windpipe, in tandem with how his cock drives into me. Stars start bursting through my gaze, I see his amber eyes, I see the moon shining above, and I feel my power gathering and gathering.
“Are you going to come, my lady?” He mocks, sweat beads coating his skin, melting our bodies together. I sob, the sound choking out of me from the lack of air. “Is the maiden going to make a mess of her High Lords cock?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry out at his filthy words, my nails biting against his skin, against his scalp as the fire in me rages into a full-blown storm. Eris curses at how tightly I clench around him and his amber eyes light, like candles flickering to life.
The air turns still. The wind stops moving. Even the sound around us dies out. He hits that spot in me again and again, and the power between us is starting to tear apart.
“With me,” Eris snarls, pressing a wet kiss to my lips. His movements become erratic, desperate, and that last thread rips away and he groans. “Come with me, my lady.”
I scream his name, and flames engulf us both as he roars, his cock spasming and spilling his cum inside me. Black dots fill my vision, and all I can feel, all I become is fire – it explodes from us, from him, as release waves and waves and waves over us.
It's unlike any climax I’d ever felt before, my thighs clamping around his waist, my walls suffocating him inside me and both our bodies shaking from the aftermath. Power leaks from him, from me, and I can feel it seeping into the soil, into the trees, into the very air.
I force my eyes open, watching as Eris pants above me, one hand holding my throat, the other braced beside my head. A God, he looked like a God – moonlight beaming over his wet skin, amber eyes a tsunami of flames, his strong throat working as he groaned from the pleasure ringing from him.
The ultimate release, not just sexually, not just physically, but spiritually – he was feeding our land, feeding our Court.
“Fuck,” Eris curses, voice like gravel now. He collapses against my chest, burying his head into the crook of my neck as his orgasm fades, as the Great Rite is completed. I hold him to me, our heart beats pounding in tandem as we come down from our highs. “Fuck.”
I run my hand through the damp stands of his hair, kissing his cheek tenderly, feeling his cock still inside me, softening. His hands curl around my waist and thigh, not even an inch of space between us. It was just me and him, the moon above, the forest around and the wind kissing our skin.
The earth felt fuller somehow, everything felt stronger around us.
“Congratulations, High Lord,” I smiled, feeling Eris chuckle against my skin. He kisses the junction where my neck and shoulder meet. “You’ve completed your first Fire Night.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, my maiden,” He nipped at my jaw as he raised his head, grinning at the giggle that escaped me. His amber eyes met mine, liquid gold in them and he smiled. “Only your sweet – “
His words stopped, abruptly. As if someone had torn the air from his lungs. As if someone had frozen all movement in his body.
“Eris, what – “
Amber eyes. Pale moonlit skin. Fire, fire, fire –
And then it clicks into place in me too. I feel it like the last piece of my soul.
“Mate,” Eris breathes, and his hands tighten over my flesh. Possessive. Needy. Claiming. “You’re my mate.”
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undercoverpena · 3 months
Text
him. he. joel.
joel miller x f!reader | joel miller masterlist
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summary: you don't know his name. he doesn't know yours. yet.
wordcount: 1.5k warnings: PRE OUTBREAK. a suggestion of alcohol as they're in a bar, but never consumed. smut. unprotected sex with a stranger (at first). oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving). no use of y/n. no age gap is specified (use your imagination, honey). jo spelling too, cause wrote this on my phone read on ao3
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Your eyes land on his across the room.
Throat drying at first contact, feet glueing more to the insoles of your shoes as you focus on keeping your back straight—poised, unwilling to crack or bend. 
Especially when he seeks you out over random heads and remains there even when you pretend to look away.
You only see him here occasionally.
No routine, no plan—no arrangement in place, just a chance and encounter. 
As soon as you do, the two of you perform the same dance as the time before, circling and circling until the inevitable collision. 
He doesn’t know your name; you don’t know his.
But, you do know how his cock feels in your throat. You do know the way his stubble feels on the inside of your thighs—and the grunt he makes when he spills inside of you.
Just like how you know the way his lips feel when he’s zipping himself back up, giving you one last parting kiss before he’s through the door of the bathroom, supply closet or exiting out of the back of your car. 
Tonight, it’s another person's birthday. 
Ericsson’s maybe? Or a person called Monty—you’re not sure.
You’re just wondering how long it’ll take before the usual routine comes into play. 
Will he find you outside, head turned away under the twinkling, milky stars and a cloudless sky before he snaps your attention to him? Or, will his fingers, deft and thick, find your wrist—pull you into a dark corner and slant his mouth across yours to smother your gasp? 
Except tonight feels different, something in the air—it is all heavy, layering thick. Some part of you wondering if there are new rules to the game, ones not shared, not handed to you—more so when he breaks away from the rowdy celebrations and leans on the bar next to you. 
“Alone?”
“Aren’t I always?” 
He chews his tongue, the sleeves of his brown t-shirt clinging to his biceps—parts of the seam unthreaded, likely over-worn. 
“You taking me away from here or will we see if my lipstick is still on the mirror from last time?” 
All set to move, to slide from your usual bar stool, when he rests his palm on the back of it, caging you, keeping you there. All broad, wide, arms long, as you stare at him, enamoured, suddenly unsure why you don't just press your mouth to his here and now.
“You not like where y’sat?” he asks.
Doing so as though he can’t see the twinkle in your eyes or see the play-by-play movie you hope will happen tonight flicking in your pupils. As though he can't see how he'd struggle to slide a finger between your pressed-together thighs, never mind his hand.  
Moving your hand, you bring your glass closer, taking a sip of your Coke, ice clinking, straw remaining on your lip a second longer as his brown eyes dig a little deeper. 
“Maybe, I just think your face is worth sitting on.”
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You hadn’t banked on going home with him. 
A shift, a noticeable change to the way things were. But, it thrilled you. Made the entire ride over an excited, uncomfortable mess as your underwear grew more ruined with every mile. 
He’d made it worth it.
Gave you a fucking throne to sit on as he worked his tongue inside you like he was as starved as you. He drew you to the edge, hanging you over it as he paused, cool breaths blown before his tongue did a circle, a square, and a letter on your clit that made your ears ring, vision blur and your thighs ache from trembling. 
Made you feel relief.
“All fours for me.” 
It's followed by a demand, an order. One you follow with a scramble. A bend of your back that has him calling you a good girl as he inches his cock in—making your fingers clench around his bedsheets. 
Your body welcomes him.
A blend of feeling good and too much all at once as you stretch around him. Feeling his palm on your spine, sliding down before moving over your hip. Words spoken, grunted into your skin that you’re barely able to discern as your breathing comes back to you, as you relax around him and let him bury himself to the hilt inside of you. 
“Y’can move.” 
And he does. 
Making your body illuminate, a full-on tremble as you course with electricity. Each drag making you see those same spots in your vision. Making you moan, whine, groan.
That is, until you hiss—a different one than when he pinches your ear lobe between his teeth or when he sucks on the skin of your neck a little more intensely than normal. 
You apologise. Tapping to move, finding he releases you, before you explain—Cramp. That’s all you offer. Fearful of crossing another boundary when you move, positioning yourself on your back and letting the low light from his bedside lamp shimmer over him. 
And fuck, is he handsome. Beautiful.
The sheen of sweat makes him glow, makes every inch of him quickly committed to memory. Doing so for as long as you let yourself give before you're yanking his mouth back to yours, panted against it when he slides his cock back, pushing all the way, feeling the fullness you crave in the weeks between seeing him. 
Because it’s a feeling you’d wait for. 
Practically growing parched before you see him again, salivating at the sight of his eyes and hardened stare.
It's a thing you suspect he feels too, virtually confessing it with each thrust, punctuating it, practically marking it on your walls as his arm rests in the space above your head, caging you, allowing him to watch everything that flicks across your face. 
It’s why when you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in sheets that don’t smell like yours—a wish for his name begins burning there on the tip of your tongue now. All acidic—making a mark. 
It does so as you find your clothes—as you slip your legs inside your jeans and manage to throw on your blouse. 
It’s then you see the photos—stitch together the life your mystery man leads. Seeing that he has a kid, one with a beautiful smile—a child that looks half his and half someone you hope you don’t know. 
A sickness churning, flipping inside of you as you slide out of the bedroom, sneak down the staircase and spot the door you can escape through. 
It’s just, you know nothing about him. 
You don’t know that he likes his coffee black and that he barely eats breakfast. In the same way, you don’t know that he rises early, and he’s already waiting for you because he’d heard the sound of the wobbly floorboards. 
“Sneakin’ out?” 
“Sneaking implies I’m embarrassed.” 
Hand wrapped around a mug—making it look small, insignificant, he takes a sip. “You’re not?” 
“Should I be?” 
Shrugging, he takes another sip. 
You say goodbye. Let the place his name should be linger.
Then you close his door behind you. 
Fuck.
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You learn his name is Joel.
Each of the four letters practically burnt into you when he handed them to you. Yet, you'd wished he'd seared them into your skin while his fingers held your chin.
Because then you could call it an accident.
But, he doesn't hand it to you that way. He gives it to you. Willingly. 
Just like he does with slithers of his past, his work, that he comes here with his brother, and then his kid’s name—Sarah. Explains it in as few words as possible. Better than sitting at home alone. Better company here. 
The latter almost makes your lips twitch into a smile. 
Joel gives you all of this on a different kind of night than you normally see him. You're working, for one. Pencil tapping against the book, the numbers make sense—the maths finding their rhythm.
But, even if that all makes sense, he doesn’t. 
Nothing about him adds up. An enigma, a confusion on two legs. Yet, you’re hooked—knew you were when you took him in the bathroom of the bar your friends own and got on your knees for him. When you unbuckled his belt and let it clang, tasting salt and pent-up frustration on your tongue as he filled your mouth with his release. He didn’t ask to see it, but you showed it to him anyway, earning an arrogant smirk before he’s helping you off the ground. 
You tell him yours, exchange him for it as you look down at the books—nudging receipts with the eraser end of your pencil before he leans his forearms on the edge of the bar next to you. 
“Already knew that.” 
Your head turns before your neck catches up. Eyes narrowed, lips parting in a question—except it never leaves your throat. 
“I asked about you.” 
Dropping your pencil, you fight the smile. The one desperate to carve on your face. “Why?” 
“Right thing to do.” 
Brow arching, you smirk—letting that free, allow it to spread up to your eyes as your body twists. 
“Y’think you’d wanna get outta here?”
“With you?” 
He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, thumb circling his finger. “Think I owe you dinner.” 
Nodding, you close the book—pencil keeping your place, sliding it up, nodding to the person behind the bar before turning back to him.
“You did have dessert the last time we saw each other, Joel.”  
“I did. Should know better—I’m a dad.”
Resting your cheek on your palm, you roll your lips, and watch red rise up his neck as he waits for your answer. “Your shirt is inside out.” 
“Goddamn it.” 
You go with him anyway.
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an: I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN PRE-OUTBREAK JOEL. so thank my circle friends because this all began with them, and a faceless man. and now here we are.
751 notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 3 months
Note
UHMM I HAVE A GOOD IDEAAA! UHHHHHHH HOLD UP , UHHMM OH CAN YOU MAKE AN LITTLE STORY WHERE CHARLIE WALK IN ON CHRIS AND Y/N ARE DOING THE DEVILS TANGO . 😈😈💗💗🙏🙏
my eyes only (part 5)
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, p in v, choking, degradation, they get caught, cursing, cheating
** i’m not promoting cheating in the slightest, this is fiction. please do not cheat on anyone.
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“holy fuck, chris!” i screamed out as his hips slammed into mine, creating a smacking sound.
we both sat on our knees on the bed, as he pounded into me from behind.
he held me against his body, one hand held my own behind my back, while his other rested against my stomach.
“still think i’m annoying?” he rasped into my ear, me eyes rolling into the back of my head at his ruthless pace.
“i’ll do this all fucking day until you answer me if i have to”
his thrusts were so deep, i was seeing stars. he somehow managed to knock the wind out of me with every movement of his hips.
“you don’t wanna answer me?” he asked, snaking the hand that was on my stomach up to my throat. he squeezed lightly, and i swear i almost came right then and there.
i let out an embarrassingly loud moan, prompting chris to choke me again.
“oh, you like that ? what a slut, getting fucked on your best friend’s cock” i bit my lip, trying to hold back the lewd sounds that desperately needed to be let out.
he bit my ear lightly, making a string of moans leave my lips.
“none of that, ma. wanna hear every single sound come out of that pretty mouth”
he used the grip he had on my neck to turn my face towards him, placing his lips against mine in a rough kiss.
our tongues danced against each others, drool dribbling down the side of our mouths.
when he pulled away, our lips were still connected by a string of saliva.
he suddenly pushed my front half down, pushing my face into the mattress by the back of my neck.
i moaned out at the harshness of his actions, my hands gripping the sheets beneath me.
my mouth hung open as he smacked my ass, groaning at the way it jiggled under his touch.
“god, i could watch this all day” he said as he continued to squeeze and slap it.
the irritated skin began to sting from the treatment, but the pain only added to the pleasure.
enjoying his fixation on it, i began to shake my ass back on him.
“fuck yes, ma. keep going, don’t fucking stop” he spoke as his hips stilled.
he watched me as i wiggled my ass against him, rolling my hips back and fucking myself on his cock.
“holy shit, you’re unreal” he mumbled under his breath as i continued my movements.
i pushed myself onto my hands and looked back at him.
“you like that, baby? my ass was made for you” i spoke in a sultry voice.
his eyes rolled back as his hands wrapped around my waist.
“for you to touch” i reached for his hand, moving it to my lips to place a kiss to it.
“to feel” kiss. “to look at” kiss. “to worship” kiss. “to ruin” another kiss.
“to cheat with” i heard a voice from behind us.
i let out a scream, my heart beating out of my chest as i went to cover the both of us in a blanket.
when i turned my face towards the door, i was met with an angry charlie.
“yo, what the fuck dude? how long were you standing there?” chris asked.
“seriously? that’s your concern?” charlie asked, narrowing his eyes at chris.
“yes, actually. you were probably enjoying the show” chris spoke.
“chris!” i said as i slapped his chest lightly, shooting him a glare.
“but seriously, how long were you standing there?” i asked, finding it weird how he chimed in at just the right time.
charlie’s face scrunched up before he spoke, “just…get dressed. we’ll talk when you’re decent” he spoke before shutting the door behind him.
honestly, charlie is an odd guy. he freaks out about small stuff, but when it comes to big issues? he’s weirdly chill about it.
don’t get me wrong, he’s definitely mad. he’s just oddly calm about the whole situation.
“he’s…not as mad as i thought he’d be” chris said as he started to get dressed.
“honestly, he probably saw it coming. i’ve been distant lately and he keeps on bringing up the nudes” i said as i pulled my clothes on.
his eyes widened at that, “he knows about those?”
“yeah. plus, he’s convinced that you’re in love with me” chris halted his actions at those words.
“what?” i asked, noticing him freezing up.
he swallowed harshly before shaking his head, resuming his actions. “nothing, that’s just kinda insane”
for some reason, his words hurt me. i tried not show it on my face as i finished pulling on my clothes.
we continued to fix ourselves up in silence, giving each other awkward glances when the other wasn’t looking.
“you ok?” he asked as i made my way to the door.
“just, stay here. i’m gonna go talk to him” i told him before leaving my room, closing the door behind me.
when i walked out to my living room, charlie was sitting on the couch with his hands folded in his lap.
i gave him a sheepish smile before beginning to talk, cutting right to the chase.
“look, i’m sorry” i started.
“no, you’re not” he breathed out. “i know you’re not, because if you were you wouldn’t have cheated on me”
i let out a sigh at his words.
“but it’s ok, i cheated on you too” my eyes widened at that.
out of everything he could say, those were not the words i was expecting.
“and that doesn’t make what either of us did ok, by any means. i shouldn’t have done that to you. but you were barely talking to me or hanging out with me, and i knew you were gonna leave me for him eventually” he said.
“and i know i have been horrible to you, and i shouldn’t have taken my stress out on you like that. i know you felt trapped in our relationship, and for that i truly am sorry. i shouldn’t have made you feel like you couldn’t break up with me”
this is the charlie that i got into a relationship with.
i don’t know what happened between now and then that made him change so drastically, but it was almost a relief to know that i wasn’t just being naive in thinking that he could still be the person i once knew.
“it wasn’t all you, charlie. i shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with you knowing that i had feelings for chris. that wasn’t fair to you, and i am sorry for that”
“and yes our relationship was fucked up, but that didn’t give me the right to cheat on you. it’s just-”
“you’re in love with him” charlie cut me off. “and i’m not gonna stand in the way of that anymore. you deserve to be happy”
“so do you” i nodded at him.
“damn, look at us. having a real conversation like adults” charlie chuckled.
“never thought i’d see the day” i said.
“ok, well i’m gonna go” he said as he patted me on the shoulder awkwardly.
“bye charlie” i laughed, as he left.
“that was so fucking awkward” i said to myself as i made my way back to my room.
when i pushed my door open, however, chris was gone.
the only evidence of him having been here was my open window, which let in a cold breeze.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
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lancermylove · 2 months
Text
Are We About to Kiss? (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: All x gn!Reader
Warning: None.
Original Prompt: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Simon’s reaction to their crush jokingly asking ‘Are we about to kiss right now?’(like, when their faces got too close while doing a mundane thing and mc wanted to tease them)
A/N: I added more characters to the original but will put the original HCs in this post as well.
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Mammon was rummaging through his room, trying to find his missing wallet, while you were there browsing your favorite clothing site to see which outfit to buy for the upcoming dance.
"Hey, Mammon, what do you think about this outfit?"
Leaning close to look at your phone screen, he examined the apparel. "That'll look good on ya!"
In his excitement, he didn't notice how close his face had gotten to yours.
"Mammon, are we about to kiss?" you teased, noticing the proximity.
He jerked back, a flush creeping up his cheeks. "Wha- No! I mean, unless…ya want to?"
Seeing your amused smile, Mammon's confidence wavered, then surged. "Ah, what the heck," he muttered, closing the gap with a bashful grin. "If it's you, then I ain't complainin'."
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Leviathan was focused on his new favorite game, his room dimly lit by the glow of multiple screens. You were busy sitting on a bean bag beside him, working on a project
"Levi, do you think this idea is good enough for the project?" You asked, nudging him slightly to get his attention.
With a sigh, Levi paused his game and turned to look at your notes. "Let's see what you've got," he mumbled and leaned in close to see the small text on your paper.
His arm brushed against yours, neither of you realizing how your faces had drawn inches apart in the dim light.
"Levi, we are close enough to kiss. Do you want to kiss me?" you whispered, half-joking, half-curious about his reaction.
He froze, his eyes widening as he processed your words. "Huh?! No, no, no, I mean... I-I wouldn't be opposed, but... are you sure?"
After a moment of flustered hesitation, Levi's expression softened, a shy smile forming. "If... if you're really okay with it, then... I guess I am, too."
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Satan had invited you to his room for a quiet reading session, but you were there to seek his advice on a tricky essay topic for your RAD assignment.
"Satan, how do you interpret this passage?"
He leaned over, his emerald eyes scanning the text closely. "Ah, this is a common misconception. What the author is actually implying is…"
As he explained the meaning, his focus was entirely on the book, but your focus was on his handsome face. You were almost tempted to caress his silky hair.
"Satan, do you intend to kiss me?"
He paused, looking up from the book. When his eyes met yours, a light blush painted his cheeks. "I… had not planned such a deviation from our study. But if you're inclined…"
With a soft smile, Satan set the book aside and slowly closed the gap between the two of you.
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Belphegor invited you to nap with him under a cozy blanket in the attic. But the two of you ended up discussing the upcoming meteor shower.
"Belphie, do you think we'll be able to see the shooting stars clearly from here?"
He yawned, shifting closer to you for warmth. "This is the perfect spot. You'll see, it's magical."
While whispering, he inadvertently nestled closer, his head resting against yours. For a moment, you observed his soft expression as he looked up at the skylight.
"Belphie, are we about to kiss?."
He opened his eyes slowly, a lazy, content smile spreading across his face. "Wouldn't that be a perfect way to wait for the stars?" he murmured, excited at the thought of his lips meeting yours.
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The prince had arranged a private tour of the RAD archives for you to help you gather information for a history project.
"Diavolo, what's the significance of this emblem?" You inquired, pointing to an ancient crest embedded in the archive walls.
With a warm smile, Diavolo stepped closer to explain, his voice filled with passion for his heritage. "This emblem represents the unification of the three realms, a symbol of peace and collaboration."
His hand gently guided your shoulder to a better viewing angle, bringing your faces inches apart. But the prince didn't notice this as he was too immersed in explaining the importance of the emblem.
Unable to resist the closeness of his handsome face, you whispered. "Diavolo."
As soon as he turned his head to you with a bright smile, his eyes widened at the closeness. Giggling, you teased. "So...are we about to kiss?"
"Would that be your desire?" he responded with a deep and inviting voice, his eyes sparkling. "I am here to make your experience as enjoyable as possible."
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Barbatos had offered to teach you an exclusive recipe from the royal kitchen due to your curiosity about Devildom cuisine.
As you stirred the ingredients in a bowl, you curiously asked. "Barb, how do you know when this mixture is ready?"
Barbatos leaned in, his eyes scrutinizing the mixture. "Observe the texture and color."
Seeing your stirring technique a bit off, his hand steadied yours. His body was so close to your back that you could feel the heat seeping through his shirt. Though he remained composed, your cheeks grew red. Moreover, he refused to move as he was too invested in watching you mix the ingredients closely.
"Barbatos, do you...plan to kiss me?" You giggled.
He paused and slightly tilted his head. For a moment, his eyes took in your red cheeks while his ears listened to the rapid beating of your heart.
"If that is your wish, I see no reason to delay such a moment," he whispered teasingly into your ear.
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For the longest time, you had pestered Solomon about wanting to watch him mix his potions and do magical things. He finally gave in to your wish and invited you to watch him craft a spell. While he was gathering the ingredients, you read through his tomes.
"Solomon, can your spell really charm anyone?"
He leaned over your shoulder to look at the words in the tome, his silver hair brushing against your cheek. "Ah, this one is quite unique."
He began to flip through the tome to find another spell that would help you understand the first one better. But your eyes were fixed on him as the corners of your lips tugged into a cute smile.
"Solomon, are we about to kiss?" You playfully asked.
He paused and stared at your face, only now realizing how close the two of you were. His lips curled into a calm smile. "Would that be an experiment you're willing to partake in, or do you simply wish to learn if you can charm me without the use of a spell?"
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Lucifer was signing an enormous stack of papers while you were sitting beside him, working on homework. 
"Sorry to disturb you, but Luci, what does this word mean?" 
He leaned closer to you to get a good look at your textbook and confidently replied. "Have I answered your question or-"
The Avatar of Pride shifted his eyes to you, only now realizing how close he was to your face. He took a moment to gaze into your eyes - beautiful, simply beautiful. It wasn't often that Lucifer could get this close to you without his brothers attempting to pry you away from him. 
"So…are we about to kiss?" 
Your words surprised him, but his lips tugged up into a mischievous smile. "Is that what you wish for?" 
Without waiting for your reply, Lucifer closed the distance between your faces and whispered against your lips. "Your wish is my command." 
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It was your turn to cook dinner, and you were busy chopping vegetables. Out of all the recipes you could have picked, why did you choose one that required so many veggies? Cooking was tedious enough, but now you were stuck cutting a mountain of greens. 
As a yawn escaped your lips, you closed your eyes but didn’t stop moving the knife. 
”(Y/n), careful!“ A strong hand gripped your forearm in the nick of time and prevented the sharp blade from cutting your index finger. 
Opening your eyes, you saw Beel’s face a few centimeters away from yours. The two of you locked gazes for a few minutes as your brain tried to process what was going on. But instead of thanking him for saving your finger, you ended up asking, "Um…are we about to kiss?" 
Beel tilted his head to the side and blinked rapidly. "You were about to hurt yourself, so I stopped you…" 
"You are too innocent, Beel. I was teasing you…you know what, never mind, thanks for saving my precious finger." 
The Avatar of Gluttony nodded, but he started to regret his reply - a kiss sounded even better to him than an all-you-can-eat buffet. 
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Asmo was absentmindedly brushing through his hair and didn’t notice you walk into his room. For a moment, you observed him, wondering if something was bothering him. 
"Asmo?" 
No reply. What was going on? That was not like him at all. 
You walked up behind him, leaned down, and brought your lips close to his ear. "What’s wrong?”
Even though your question and intentions were innocent, your whisper was enough to make Asmo shiver. 
He turned his head to apologize to you but seeing how close you were to him, the Avatar of Lust froze. Was it just him or did you get even more attractive than before? 
“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you thinking about kissing me?" 
"A kiss? Well, I was planning to verbally confess my feelings for you, but a kiss works, too." 
Asmo pressed his soft lips against yours with no plans of letting you walk away with just one kiss. 
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You were helping the angels bake some sweets in the Purgatory Hall kitchen. Luke left the kitchen to retrieve his phone from his bedroom, leaving you with the older angel. 
"Simeon, my apron is coming loose, so could you please tighten it? Sorry to ask you, but-" You showed him your frosting-covered hands. 
After tightening the knot, he glanced over your shoulder to get a better look at your colorful cookies. The second you turned your head to thank him, your noses touched. 
To your surprise, Simeon didn't back away; instead, he glanced at you with the softest of looks, admiring how radiant your face looked. 
"Um…are we about to kiss?" 
A hint of red crept on his cheeks as a smile formed on his lips, "I would like that." 
Just as your lips brushed against his, Luke flung the door open, "Sorry it took so long!" 
You and Simeon immediately pulled away, turning your faces in opposite directions. 
"Did something happen?" The young angel asked, concerned, "Your faces are really red…are the two of you sick?" 
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➣  Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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arminsumi · 3 months
Text
♡ 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝟓
❝ ​... it's been a while since I last fell in love.❝
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All chapters | AO3
Pairing : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru
Synopsis : a kiss before your flight home.
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Summer with you felt fuller and brighter than any other.
Waving sparklers in the humid night air. Sore feet after walking for hours. Mesmerized by the feeling of life whirling around you. Winning a squish mallow from a claw machine and watching Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fight over who got to keep it. Listening to Satoru and Suguru’s murmured conversations, and feeling giddy when you got the gist of something they said. Feeling your heart throb and ears perk up when they mentioned your name. Laughing embarrassedly into a pillow when you tried to speak Japanese and got everything wrong — Satoru's enamored smile.
It felt like you were in a rush to enjoy everything sometimes, because your return flight date loomed in the back of your mind. Suguru was nervous to show you Japan in a light that you'd never forget, and Satoru was just oblivious to all the sight-seeing and festivals because you were far more captivating.
On the train ride deeper into the city, Satoru sat thigh-against-thigh with you. The both of you were very consciously aware of contact, the press and the warmth. At your left, Suguru leaned close, the fabric of his t-shirt grazing your arm giving you butterflies.
Heads together, all three of you took turns in Satoru's diary; writing your names, scribbling, doodling, until the page was filled from corner to corner.
They talked about Nanami, who was going to meet you for the first time.
Suguru giggled at something Satoru said, so you asked what he was laughing at.
"Satoru's scared that Nanami is going to show off his English to you." he said.
“Oh?” you smiled.
("... and!") Satoru added dramatically, interrupting Suguru, ("He better not flirt with her.”)
Suguru went completely red in the face and laughed.
("Satoru, You're acting very boyfriend-like.")
("... oh, am I?")
("Yes.")
Satoru stopped talking, went redder than Suguru, and sat back in his seat like he was contemplating himself.
"What?" you asked, looking between them.
"Nothing." Suguru feathered, covering his face to hide his smile, "Nothing at all."
*****
Even you were taken aback by Nanami's English, because he spoke more elegantly than you did — so you can just imagine what expression Suguru had when he watched the two of you interact for the first time at the festival.
"Satoru's my senior at work, even if he doesn't act like it." he said. Satoru looked at him suspiciously as he spoke.
"Ohhh, I see." you nodded, "Then, you two met at work or...?"
"No, we went to high school together.” Nanami said.
You nodded again, "Ah."
"... he talks a lot about you." Nanami said, "Talks my ear off at the water cooler about this girl who lives on the other side of the world — with the biggest stars in his eyes. It's nice that you two could finally meet."
You smiled, "Yeah... this summer has been amazing."
"Have you ticked everything off your bucket list yet?" Nanami asked.
"Yes — though, I missed Tanabata." you said. “Maybe next year.”
The two of you kept talking. When you laughed at something Nanami said, Satoru threw a jealous look at him. Then he and Suguru talked under their breaths.
(“Are they flirting?”) Satoru asked suspiciously.
(“They are not.”)
(“It feels like they are.”)
(“… you really are acting like a boyfriend, Satoru…”)
*****
A blue night sky deepened as you three walked across the street crossing, closer to where residents were gathered and some dancing around a raised stage.
"I wish I could experience December here, too." you sighed dreamily.
"Why don't you?" Nanami asked.
"... the flights are too expensive." you replied.
"... what a shame. A romantic like Satoru would be over the moon to spend December with you." Nanami said. "Maybe next year, you two can go as a couple."
You acted shyer after realizing Nanami assumed you and Satoru were dating, and it was incredibly funny because Satoru misinterpreted your shyness to be a response to Nanami's flirting — so he interrupted the conversation right there.
Suguru stifled a laugh. He didn't say anything, just watched you three like it was a sitcom.
("Nanami, you look a bit taller. Did you grow?") Satoru teased, physically comparing heights with him — which he only ever did when they were kids.
"..." Nanami stared at him. ("Why are you like this?")
Suguru was trying so hard to contain his laughter.
While Nanami and Satoru went back and forth with each other, Suguru grabbed the chance to have his own moment with you.
He talked a bit louder over the singing and drumming, right into your ear, as you watched, captivatedly, at people performing bon odori around the stage.
All you remember was feeling like Suguru’s voice was in your chest, truthfully you can't remember what he was explaining to you about the festival.
Then he went quiet and stared at you softly.
A weird, familiar feeling took residency inside his chest, and he thought;
(Oh... It's been a while since I last fell in love.)
But even if you had paid attention to him in that moment, would you have noticed the tenderness in his eyes?
Suguru got startled out of his love-struck daze by Nanami, who was leaving early.
("Satoru finally got on your nerves, huh?")
("Yes… no, not actually. I've just got sore feet.")
Satoru teased playfully, ("You just want to go home and take a bubble bath and listen to jazz like the old man you are.")
("Satoru, you're annoying. That's absolutely what I'm going to do, though.")
Nanami said goodbye for the night.
The sky blackened and the crowd thickened with more people, so Satoru took your hand in his and kept you close.
After an hour, the three of you headed out of the festival and went in search of a quieter place. Suguru observed you and Satoru holding hands. He stared and stared, then forced himself to snap out of it.
Satoru was quietly thinking, then said dramatically;
(“He was totally flirting with her!”)
And to this Suguru burst out laughing so hard, like all the laughter he held back earlier came out. A man with a laugh like that was definitely popular with boys and girls in high school, you’re certain.
(“How do you know?”)
(“… it sounded like it!”)
(“I can’t believe you’re such a jealous guy.”) Suguru shook his head, bearing a big smile, (“You even got jealous at me for flirting with her.”)
Satoru shrugged guiltlessly. 「僕は僕!」
“What is going on?” you asked laughingly.
Suguru could hardly translate or speak as he had a laughing fit on the street.
*****
When you walked out of an alleyway into a busier street and saw the neon glow of lights of a 7-Eleven, and a cyclist going by, and inhaled the night air, and heard all the city noises, and felt all the city feelings, this feeling whirled around you.
"Life feels different here." you commented, looking around you.
"... oh really?" Suguru hummed sarcastically.
You nudged his arm. "Don't be sarcastic. You know what I mean, don't you?"
"Yeah, of course. That feeling... like a spark...?" he teased, just to see the look in your eyes.
He spoke to Satoru, and Satoru said something and Suguru chuckled and translated for you, " 'You'll miss that feeling when you leave for home.' "
"... I'll miss you two more."
Hearing sentence made his heart fluttery. When Suguru translated it, it just didn't feel the same as hearing it in your voice. It made him wonder just how much he was missing out on by not knowing your language. What feelings were being lost in translation?
*****
The three of you headed out further, getting a bit lost in the city for fun.
The hot night called for ice cream, so Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fought for who would go to buy some.
"... 最初ぐう... じゃん拳ぽん... あいこでしょ... あいこでしょ... !"
Satoru pulled a funny face after losing that made you and Suguru laugh. He went on his way to the convenience store, navigating through a detour, stopping to pet a cat on his way back, and meanwhile... you and Suguru were left alone together, with that spark clearly fizzing between your chests.
*****
At the park, the two of you lazed in the grass, side by side, while waiting for Satoru to return from the convenience store with ice creams.
Eyes directed up at the sky, propped on his elbows, hair messy after a long evening. Suguru momentarily closed his eyes in bliss at the soft breeze fanning by.
Next to you, Suguru stretched out his long legs and stared deeply at the moon. It was blazing. The longer he stared at it in silence the more this feeling struck him.
He took a sideways glance at you, and you were obliviously enjoying the cool night breeze.
(Does she have a clue about how I feel right now?) Suguru thought softly.
"月が綺麗ですね..." he murmured romantically.
"Hm? What does that mean...?"
He turned his head to look at you, totally smitten.
"... the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Oh. Yeah, it is." you agreed. "I haven't seen a moon so bright in a while."
Suguru chuckled dreamily.
(She's a clueless angel.)
No thoughts passed through either of your heads as you leaned into each other.
His features were too fuzzy to make out in this lighting, but you saw a hint of a tender expression on his face.
He inhaled deeply and got so high on the sweet, humid night air that he leaned into a kiss without thinking his action through — but it's alright, he only grazed his still lips over yours. He only hovered. It was just a sweet, shared breath if anything. Just a ticklishly light touch of lips grazing lips.
No thoughts. Just that spark in the air and heartbeats thumping quickly in your fingertips.
Then immediate realization hit him. He pulled away and apologized like he was shocked at himself.
"I'm so sorry." Suguru stressed, "I didn't mean to — I —I wasn't thinking."
"It's okay, don't apologize." you replied softly, unable to say more.
(What does she mean, "Don't apologize"? What does she mean…?)
Suguru began to ramble, and you watched his lips move as he spoke each syllable. His lips felt tingly, wanting— desperately — for a kiss.
He wanted to kiss you, but he couldn't.
"It's just — I haven't — you know, it's been years since... um, anyways. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He became out of breath, talking too fast.
Suguru drew in a breath like he was going to say something more, but then stopped speaking altogether because Satoru returned — with a plastic bag of convenience store ice creams swishing at his side.
“Hey hey.” he greeted the two of you, and sat down on the grass.
Satoru didn't sit between you and Suguru, rather, he sat in front of both of you, stretching his legs out onto the soft grass like a cat.
「顔赤いよ・・・」 Satoru wiggled his brows at Suguru.
You watched Suguru as he patted his hands against his hot cheeks to cool them.
Satoru giggled naughtily.
You looked between them and watched them have a small exchange, never learning what they said to each other in that moment. But you could gather Suguru's embarrassment and Satoru's teasing and mild jealousy.
Suguru grumbled to himself on the way home.
(We could have shared a movie kiss...)
*****
You fell asleep before Satoru — almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. He looked down at you for a moment, his gaze catching onto your parted lips, his ears picking up on your soft breathing.
(I hope you're dreaming of me.) he thought hopefully.
He stared for a bit, daydreaming.
The longer he stared, the more his face reddened and his heartbeat quickened. Eventually he crawled into bed next to you, keeping a distance but wishing so badly that he could cuddle you.
He was thinking about how unfair it was to be himself; to have to contain himself when he was such a romantic and emotional man, and not just that; a man in need of touching, kissing, cuddling. He felt a need for all of that more that night than at any other point in his life.
Satoru timidly inched closer and lifted his face to plant a kiss on your cheek. Just a tiny kiss. His lips hovered over you cheek, then over your lips. But he held back.
He pulled away slowly and smiled shyly to himself.
That satisfied his heart enough, he could calm down and sleep.
But in the other room, Suguru moved around sleeplessly in his bed like a hopeless insomniac.
*****
Curled into his pillow, cheeks warm, fist to lip and knees hugged, Suguru was daydreaming of how that moment could have gone differently if he had just kissed you.
And his daydream played out like a film, one full of scripted kisses, shot from every angle, replayed over and over to satisfy his little heart — the poor thing was beating in panic at his growing feelings.
Yes, he knew he liked you, but not like that. Not until now. Now that feeling was nearly in full throttle.
*****
Suguru's daydream of kissing you went on until it got light outside.
He thought, thought, thought. But a daydream wasn't enough to satisfy his need to kiss you. With a suppressed sigh, he rolled onto his side, hugged his ribs, and blinked his stinging eyes at the room as it lit up a dawn blue.
The room became lighter and lighter.
He leaned up in bed, blinked, then reached for his phone and opened yours and his chat. And he scrolled up into the texts that gave him butterflies. He stared at the blinking cursor, then typed out;
I wanted to kiss you.
Then he stared at your profile picture, and promptly erased what he had typed.
Instead, he wrote it in his notes app, as if it was his most guilty secret.
Then he cuddled back into his fortress of pillows, begged his mind for a dream of you, and fell asleep at 7 AM, sleeping a weak 3 hours before waking up again.
*****
You and Suguru were awake earlier than Satoru, who was still softly sleeping. The roar of early morning traffic reached the 7th floor, and the sunrise teased its appearance through the buildings.
Suguru watered the balcony plants in his flip flops.
And he did it lazily, in his baggy pants, with unbrushed hair. It was quite a sight to see, so you stared. He could feel your eyes on him and his heartbeat quickened.
He watered each plant with a cup of water, complaining that he keeps forgetting to buy a watering can for his ‘lil guys’.
Names were assigned to each plant, written on paper on toothpicks.
“… you named a plant… Dave?” you questioned.
“… what? It’s funny.”
He watered ‘Dave’ and looked closer, nearly nosing into the plant.
"Oh my god... he’s wilting." he genuinely panicked. "I swear I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive, it's like he just wants to die… keep it together, Dave."
You laughed and hovered over the plants with him. Suguru was frowning at his other plants as they looked unhappier than usual.
"Suguru, you're such a plant dad." you said.
His frown lifted, he looked at you and then his sweet smile lines showed up on his cheeks.
"Thanks."
When he made eye contact, and that something sparked in the air between you two. It sparked bigger than it ever had before.
"You look tired..."
I can't believe she notices that. How sweet.
He shrugged in response.
"I was thinking about you..." he trailed off.
You widened your eyes and went silent.
"— your flight." he lied and you knew it.
"... yeah, it's gonna be a long flight home." you swallowed hard, looking so deeply into his eyes that you got dizzy.
"You know what's weird? Right now, in this moment, it feels like you'll never leave." he said softly.
The following silence heightened the tension between you and him. He felt the urge to kiss you again. He felt it bad. His self-restraint was slipping, he couldn't discipline himself.
(A kiss is just a kiss, right?)
When you licked your lips, that’s when Suguru started to lean his face in. As his gaze flitted between your lips and your eyes, his heart panged.
He hesitated, you hesitated, he stuttered, you stuttered. He kissed you like a nervous mouse.
You were shocked even though you knew it was coming.
Even if the kiss lasted just a split second, that was long enough to catch a glimpse of heaven.
Suguru pulled back and looked at you unsurely.
"えーと" his lips twitched. "I — I'm — I — uh." he forgot how to speak completely, so stunned that his mother tongue and English tongue got tangled together.
You stared into his eyes and that's what got him, he went in for another kiss, this time harder – lips smacking together like you just needed each other. And as he exhaled against your face, you could feel all his passion.
His heart fluttered when you kissed him back with almost the same intensity. The heat and softness of someone else's lips was exactly what he needed at this time in his life, just to kiss someone who he really liked.
Gasping into the kiss, Suguru held onto your cheeks like you were his baby. When he ran out of breath, he pulled away and breathed a little heavier.
"I'm so sorry, I — " he said breathlessly.
" — no, it's o—o-okay." you stammered, feeling a bit out of it.
Both of you were digesting the moment when suddenly a bleary-eyed, sleepy Satoru came out onto the balcony, holding Mint against his chest. He was squinting and blinking at the morning sun.
Suguru immediately switched to nonchalance and acting as if nothing just happened. But his shoulders were stiff.
("Mint looks especially evil this morning.") his voice quivered a little.
("... you mean fluffy?") Satoru replied, petting Mint between her fuzzy ears.
("No, evil.") Suguru joked, ("She's a devil in dis—guise.") he choked on his words.
Satoru looked at him strangely and thought;
(Huh, Suguru doesn't usually choke on his words.)
Satoru stared at Suguru, looked at you, then looked back and forth between you and Suguru.
The air was thick.
"What?"
"What...?"
("What happened?") Satoru asked.
Satoru's sixth sense was insane. Like it was some scene in a comedy movie, he forwardly asked;
("Why do I feel like I interrupted something?") he said.
Suguru raised his brows and made a funny guilty face. You looked between them with wide eyes.
"I'm gonna go make some coffee..." you said, and scrambled to your feet like you were desperate to escape this awkward tension.
"... I'm gonna tell him." Suguru said.
"You're bluffing..."
"Nah, I'm an honest guy."
You groaned funnily, "Then I'm gonna go hide behind the coffee pot..."
Satoru looked confused. Once you headed inside, it was just him and Suguru there on the balcony.
The traffic was roaring louder by now. For a while it was the only sound between them, besides your distant clanking in the kitchen.
A long silence dragged out and then Suguru's words abruptly popped into existence.
"(YN)にキスした・・・"
"は?!"
Suguru made a guilty grimace and scratched the back of his head.
("What do you mean you kissed her? When was this?") Satoru's voice got higher.
("Uh, like right now.")
They went back and forth for a while. You heard them and had no idea what was being said.
("Thief.") Satoru said, calming down after a while.
("How am I a thief?") Suguru got defensive.
("You stole her kiss from me!") Satoru pouted childishly.
("... I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.") Suguru lowered his head, ("Are you mad at me...?") he asked worriedly.
("... No, I'm not mad at you... well, a little bit.") Satoru mumbled, ("I'm more jealous than mad.")
(“So…”) Suguru looked at his best friend wearily. How could he not be furious? (“This is fine with you?”)
(“You can get away with it. If it were Nanami, I’d be throwing hands.”) he joked.
Suguru still felt like he was a puppy that did something wrong, but Satoru just didn’t seem to be taking it as seriously.
("... I've got a plan, okay.") Satoru said suddenly, ignoring Mint's silent begging for cuddles. ("I'm gonna kiss her at the airport, right before she leaves — ")
Suguru laughed, ("Are you procrastinating — ?")
Satoru cut him off and said 「やる よ!!!」 with such intensity and conviction that it made Suguru burst out laughing.
Hearing Suguru's laughter from the kitchen reassured you that everything went over fine.
*****
He stood in front of you.
(できる よ・・・) I can do it...
Satoru swallowed hard. Discretely wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Nibbled his lip. Tried to act natural in the airport, looking to Suguru for inspiration on being nonchalant.
You were testing the clock by waiting until the very last minute to get onboard.
Just like you were procrastinating to board your flight, Satoru was procrastinating to kiss you. The three of you exchanged a look.
"Oh.” Suguru realized, “Go ahead. I’m not looking. I'm a plant." Suguru joked, covering his eyes.
He gave you and Satoru space, he thought it was fair. If he had his moment with you on the balcony, then Satoru deserved to have a moment with you. Now he understood how all-consuming the desire to kiss someone was.
(It has to be now, when else? I don't know when she'll be back for her next visit, I could be waiting a whole year. The universe knows how impatient I am. I've got to have her lips right now.) Satoru thought anxiously.
His body stuttered.
You were thinking to yourself, is this the wrong moment to kiss him? Is there ever a right moment anyways?
"Satoru." you said in a tone of goodbye, and outstretched your arms to him.
He leaned down into your embrace like the awkwardly tall man he was.
You clung to each other's bodies for a while. Such a clingy hug already spoke volumes. But still, Satoru just wanted to go that bit further — to spell his love on your lips.
He wanted you to board that plane knowing what his love tasted like, to sit in your seat with lips freshly tingling.
Yes, he knew nothing in life ever played out like in movies or daydreams, so he was hoping just once it would.
Last-minute doubt filled him and he felt his mood drop.
(… maybe I shouldn’t.)
Just as he pulled out of the hug, you reached up, cupped his cheeks with conviction, and gave him the biggest kiss that he'd ever received in his life right smack there on his lips.
"...?" His knees buckled, and redness grew on his cheeks very quickly.
He blanked so hard, but only for a second or two, because he dreamily tilted his head off to the side and deepened the kiss.
(yeah, 恋している。)
You pulled back. He stammered, stuttered, totally stumbled. He was all over the place now. He couldn't form a thought now.
Even if someone would have told him that he was on planet earth, he wouldn't have believed them, because your kiss definitely sent him to heaven.
"は、はずかしいな・・・embarrassed, I'm embarrassed." He chuckled nervously.
Suguru watched as you two broke down into giggles, then he came over to you two again.
"You know, that was very cute and all," he said, spooking the life out of Satoru who was just totally in his feelings. "But even the last-minute procrastinators have boarded the flight by now."
"Oh my god!" you panicked, "Um, yeah! Okay, okay I'm gonna go... I love you two. I'll come back soon, I promise. I promise."
Hugging goodbye for the last time hurt, and seeing you get teary-eyed made it hard for them not to cry too.
You went through the gates.
Satoru felt like you tore a piece of him and took it with you, and his whole body wanted to chase after you.
You waved and gave heart hands to them as much as you could until you disappeared out of sight.
Boarding the plane felt like a dream. After stowing away your bag in the overhead cabinet, you took your seat and stared blankly, lips feeling tingly and alive with Satoru’s lingering feelings on them.
*****
It was all over too quickly. Satoru licked his lips.
Idling to the window to watch your plane take off, both of them felt like they were on the verge of crying, Satoru a little more than Suguru.
(まだ いかないで。) Satoru frowned.
*****
At home, Satoru walked into his room and when he inhaled your lingering scent, god, he burst into tears so loudly that Mint got startled. Suguru came to comfortingly rub his back as he wept like a dog.
"悟、 泣かないで。"
He didn't cry as hard ever again as he did that day, and he never even told you.
*****
It's hard to imagine that summer could have ever ended, but it faded away like a sweet taste fading on his tongue.
Satoru woke up the morning without you, and it took him a few seconds to realize that — he felt his fingers over the pillow and slowly opened his eyes.
(ああ、もう会いたい。)
Puffy eyes, dry lips, he reached for his phone.
You hadn't replied yet — still on your flight home, high up in the air. Probably staring out the window. Hopefully thinking of him.
He checked your live flight status, and laid on the pillow as he watched it, forearm concealing his frown, and he just stayed like that for half an hour. Watching that tiny plane move on the screen, over so many countries.
He zoomed out, and felt stricken, as if he just realized how far you actually were from him. And you weren't even home yet, home was still hours away.
"Wake up, princess." Suguru knocked on Satoru's door, then barged in after Satoru let out an I’m awake noise. "I could sense your damp mood through the door." He said.
Satoru groaned, "She's still in the sky..."
Suguru dove into Satoru's unmade bed. "Don't frown so much, you'll get ugly frown wrinkles when you're old."
"Mhm."
They were watching your live flight for a few minutes in silence.
"Let’s look through photos."
So, they both laid there, looking through photos, mumbling amongst themselves about little things and missing you like they've never missed someone before.
Then Satoru let out a long breath, rolled onto his back, and hummed happily to himself.
"I kissed her. I actually kissed her.” He said, thinking of you.
"... oh really? That's crazy. Me too." Suguru teased sarcastically.
"Shut up, you."
Suguru just teased further, "The only way you'll get me to shut up is if you book her a flight back to Tokyo and let her use her lips to silence me."
"She'll kiss me before she kisses you next time she visits." Satoru said confidently.
"... bet?"
"Okay, bet!" Satoru flared up, "I bet all my savings, because I know she loves me more."
"Then say goodbye to your savings."
They go back and forth, getting competitive.
"... I'll kiss her harder." Suguru said.
"No, I'll kiss her harder." Satoru said.
"I'll kiss her dumb." Suguru said.
"I'll kiss her dumber!" Satoru said.
Mint fluffed her tail and stared at her noisy, bickering owners. Then she leaped off and went on her way to the washing machine.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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♡ 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠
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© arminsumi
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This is fictional work.
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