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eyelessfaces · 3 days
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uncalled for
summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.
warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids
tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)
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It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 
“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 
“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.
“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.
“Babe come on you know that’s not–”
You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 
It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 
You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 
When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.
When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.
“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.
A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.
“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.
He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.
“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.
He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 
“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 
You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”
“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”
“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”
Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 
“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”
Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.
It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.
“What’s he doing here” 
Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.
You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”
BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.
Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.
You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.
“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.
You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.
“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 
“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”
Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”
reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!
star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly
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pbpsbff · 3 days
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happy 1 year of r&r :)
i know it's a lil cringe to like. celebrate the birthday of a series on ao3 but r&r is literally my child. my baby. i birthed this series. and you all signed up for this when u started reading my fics thank u
soooooooo thank u guys for all the support i've received over r&r i know it's hard to stay a consistent reader when my posting schedule is entirely non existent but i am so grateful for everyone who's stuck around this long and been with me for this journey (calling it a journey because a year ago i did not have any sort of overarching plot in mind and now we're 17? 18? fics deep and so many things have happened and i'm usually just as surprised as my readers) it's rlly u guys that have kept me going this long
ANYWAY. i rewrote this like 500 times cause i hate being like. overly sappy on this account because it's way funnier to act like a celebrity with a huge ego, but real talk i am so proud of everything i've done w this series & what it's become in the past year
i've been posting my writing online since i was like 10, so we're going on almost 9 years now and i don't think i've ever ever ever received as much support for something as i have for r&r and something about that is soooo special to me??? idk it's just so nice to see a completely self indulgent series become so loved by others, especially since the only other fics i had up before gmm&m were a little more on the "i'm gonna write what seems popular right now" side???
like shoutout to everyone who was here before/around when i started the series because my account was so empty like. 2 fics and one gets updated every 6 months. r&r pulled me out of the trench i fear. it also cured me of my very horrible disease that makes me delete all my fics after 9 months and then completely disappear from a fandom so everyone say thank you r&r
but yeah idk where i'm going with this i'm very grateful for r&r and all the friends i've made and people i've met through it because i was very lonely before i rejoined tumblr and r&r was like. 90% of the reason i made my account
AND SPEAKING OF FRIENDS. thank u to
@spidergrotto & @sapoteylx for being the first ppl i met on here to openly talk about and support r&r which i thought was so so cool even if you guys have become my haters in the past few months i've known you :/ thank u r&r nation u keep me humble and miserable (and i am very thankful for our friendship i think some aspects of r&r would be very different if we'd never met)
& ao3 user classactical because you've been here since like. a month or two into the series i think and i always always always look forward to your comments because i feel like if you comment, i did a good job on the fic LOL thank u for sticking around for so long, even if ao3 has been actively working against you for a whiiiiile
there's a lot more i want to say and a lot of people i want to mention but that would take a very long time and i always feel weird tagging a lot of people in posts so just know if u read r&r we are kissing rn. or high fiving idk whatever floats ur boat i guess
but yeah anyway tl:dr happy birthday r&r i'm very proud of this series & very thankful for everyone who has read any part of it ever u guys are so cool and hot and have amazing taste and i'm taking your kudos and bookmarks etc. as you swearing your allegiance to me and promising me your undying support no matter what (legally binding btw) thank u guys
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duskerot · 1 month
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i disappear inside myself / my friends don't know it can't be helped
[Pure You - Nothing But Thieves]
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lucalicatteart · 2 months
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A new sculpture! Finally... I feel like I never sculpt anymore since I'm always sick or have some 500 other things going on or projects to finish, but I'm trying to schedule time to do it more often this year hopefully..! Just a generic fantasy creature as usual, but did try making the eyes a little more sparkly this time.. hrmm..
#sculpture#fantasy art#fantasy creature#art#elf#lol what are the tags I should use... I still never know.. EVIL social media.. hate the idea of tagging anything ever anyway. but alas..#I also would ideally like to start selling them again and open up custom commmissions and stuff again once I can hopefully get paypal#stuff sorted out. and find like.. a good way to do things.. etc.. I did still want to sell them through auction instead of agonizing#over setting prices being afraid they're either too high or too low. So being able to just be like. Here. this is $50. or more. or less.#negotiate. the worth is whatever you feel like it is so i personally dont have to make that decision. etc. lol... But etsy doesn't let you#do auctions or like pay what you want type stuff so.. then I was thinking ebay? but idk.. ANYWAY.. I want to set things#up so I can sell stuff again hopefully. I still haven't fully recovered from the costs of when I had to take my cat to the vet and put#them down last year and etc. So it'd be good to sell a few things. perhaps.. maychance... perhamble... so on and so forthe... ANYWAY#I was going for whiter more milky sort of hair that blends in closely with the skintone but after the paint dried it seems more yellowy kin#of. which is fine. But just not exacltly like my mind vision lol..#Also it's like... wow... someone with face spots and elf ears and a half open mouth with a gap tooth and wavy hair and kind of downturned#eyes... revolutionary... never been seen before... every sculpture I have ever made surely doesnt look licherally exactly like this... LOL#but maybe it's just a style. so what. People have their motifs lol.. Im just getting back into sculpting. I shall sameface in peace. huzzah#Just like the only thing I ever carve out of avocado pits anymore is eyes. Because that's just whats fun to do. I'm going to accumulate lik#25 similar avocado eyes and have nothing to do with them. I was thinking of stringing some together into a necklace of eyes or something li#like that but.. hrmm... ANYWAY.. Love to do the same things repetitively. :3c
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siiversans · 1 year
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OwO‽ I don't believe it, you really answered me QwQ and I thought you didn't have much time, and you think I'm sweet? What a beautiful person you are. Q u e e m o c i o n ! ! Well, sorry if these questions are bothering you a bit, but I didn't leave them to you before because I didn't know if you would be okay or available, plus the text was already long enough, Even I would be too lazy to read. Finally, here I leave you the following questions:
1) What exactly is that necklace that Hotaru! Frisk and Gin! Sans have for? Since when Gin! Sans died supposedly I would have to respawn with that at least, but I think I missed a part and didn't understand xd.
2) Are you ever going to do the story or you have no ideas and are you going to postpone it for the moment? I didn't see that movie, it looks nice so I might look for it at some point, But I would like to know what the story that you propose in your AU would be like, I think it would be great.
3) Why Tonbo! Chara is inside Kin! Papyrus? I think that was never explained or I don't know, maybe it didn't appear to me.
4) Do you like or dislike errorink? I like Frans, I don't care if he's gay, but I also like sanscest (I think it's written like that xd).
5) Is it confirmed that the Frisk of your AU is male? Or is it still a mystery and you just joke with its gender? It doesn't matter to me but I ask out of curiosity owo.
6) If I ask you for a drawing, would you do it? Or only for commissions?.
7) Who is Goatgurt (or yogurt) Asriel? I thought it was Tandoku! Asriel until I saw that he came out of the giant flower xD I felt so stupid jsjsjjssjs.
8) Why can't you leave comments on posts? Or does it only appear that way to me? Because I see that they are all deactivated.
9) What do Silveredge and Silverware mean? I know they are shipps but the names make me curious, also that of the children. Well, I think that was it. Wow that's a lot of text x,p sorry TwT I write too much almost what I think sometimes. I'm not one to edit things, I don't understand much of it, that's why I don't translate comics for others, I can barely manage jsjsjsjs. Bueno, Saravade linda😘
Ah sí, I almost forgot, won't you show me an OC of you? Since every artist has one and I would like to know how you look like x³
1) What exactly is that necklace that Hotaru! Frisk and Gin! Sans have for? Since when Gin! Sans died supposedly I would have to respawn with that at least, but I think I missed a part and didn't understand xd.
that will come into play soon :)
like. SUPER soon. like when we get back to hotaru soon!
2) Are you ever going to do the story or you have no ideas and are you going to postpone it for the moment? I didn't see that movie, it looks nice so I might look for it at some point, But I would like to know what the story that you propose in your AU would be like, I think it would be great.
if you mean gin's pre-outcode story, actually, yes! yes i will :)
it's a secret as to how or why right now but i'll probably reveal it properly when we get to that point in the plot (i'm busy with school right now!)
3) Why Tonbo! Chara is inside Kin! Papyrus? I think that was never explained or I don't know, maybe it didn't appear to me.
please imagine him as a combo of cross!sans and killer!sans!
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bonus info: kin is mostly based on disbelief and handplates papyrus!
this is their dynamic! (apologies if theyre hard to translate)
as for how they both ended up this way, you can either ask about it to them or wait :)
4) Do you like or dislike errorink? I like Frans, I don't care if he's gay, but I also like sanscest (I think it's written like that xd).
i love errorink. it's in no way canon to this story or au but my current au fic is all about errink and i also run @errinkgarbagedump!
5) Is it confirmed that the Frisk of your AU is male? Or is it still a mystery and you just joke with its gender? It doesn't matter to me but I ask out of curiosity owo.
hotaru is amab (assigned male at birth) non-binary!
their pronouns are they/them, prefer presenting masc/androgynous (only a lot of the time! there are exceptions)
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6) If I ask you for a drawing, would you do it? Or only for commissions?.
right now, i take little requests with tips on my ko-fi!
i can be a bit slow at responding and finishing the requests though <:)
7) Who is Goatgurt (or yogurt) Asriel? I thought it was Tandoku! Asriel until I saw that he came out of the giant flower xD I felt so stupid jsjsjjssjs.
goatgurt is the asriel from @asktheamalgamategoat! his story is concluded on the blog and i got the honor of taking care of little yogurt boy for the rest of time on my blog and story ^-^ <3
8) Why can't you leave comments on posts? Or does it only appear that way to me? Because I see that they are all deactivated.
i'll have to check on that! i changed the blog's tumblr settings some time back :p
9) What do Silveredge and Silverware mean? I know they are shipps but the names make me curious, also that of the children.
silveredge is just the ship name for gin x fell! it was just the name that came naturally and i felt fit them :)
silverware specifically was because me and my friends were joking around that "lol cross has knives. gink cutlery animatic. silverware, get it?" and there it is LOL
the names for the ship kids (im assuming sterling and rust specifically) was just because i thought it fit them and the ship :p
that's all!!! thank you so much for sending so many questions!!! i love writing these and answering them, im really honored someone finds these many details and has so many questions about it 😭💖
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hi jason! sorry if youve answered this before, but what does aaoc stand for? i love the posts that you tag as such so im curious :]
its my tag for posts that remind me of my wip fic(s) !! i havent 100% settled on what to name the series yet but pretty early on in development i stumbled upon that passage by julian k jarboe (from the book everyone on the moon is essential personnel) that goes
Why does God create grapes and wheat, but not wine and bread? God does this because God wants us to share in the act of creation. To be how you made me, to become how God made me, though you, I can remake myself. You and I: we are already only whole, and shifting towards the divine.
and the author also has a tweet relating this concept to transsexuality and youve probably already seen one or both of these floating around on tumblr already but whatever i just wanted to center my t4t hannigram fic around these quotes cause theyre just. so good.
so yeah it stands for "an act of creation" except it should probably be "#taoc" if i wanted it to match the original quote but i cba to go and change it now which is probably not how placeholder tags are meant to work !! oh well . fic playlist <3
#sorry idk if u were asking me abt the tag in general or just the acronym but whatever . infodump time#i have not answered this ask before <3 i rarely get asks and even more rarely answer them 💀#ask#aaoc#i dont even know how much religious themes to include in the fic bc im like the worst person to attempt to write that (<- raised atheist)#but character wise it would only make sense and it would literally make the narrative so much more layered#anyways . some things that go in the tag:#autocannibalism + transsexuality as violence + transsexuality as cannibalism which is like . thesis statement#rural american towns/houses#wolf/dog symbolism + deer & antler symbolism + especially the two combined#literally any pictures of knives but especially those ones made of canine teeth or deer bones. or ones that just have swag gender vibes#knives r gonna be a big thing for young will and theyre basically his symbolic wolf teeth. but maybe fashioned out of whats left of the doe#and of course literally anything else that has to do with/reminds me of trans hannibal or trans will or t4t hannigram or dark!will#ditto with the characters' youths at any point in time since im writing backstories for both of em as well as a florence hannigram arc#and idk sometimes i just go by vibes. sometimes a post is hannigram but ever so slightly different so it must go in the tag#i seriously cant wait til school is over and i can finally go thru my tag and write scenes/notes of what every single post reminds me of#my thought process for the most recent one was just. gore goes on the hanniblog by default + androgyny = defiance of gender norms = aaoc#then it made me think of our convo abt hannibals relationship with japanese culture and also what would body horror be for young hannibal?#so yeah basically just things for my brain to chew on for inspiration#sorry abt the tag wall im normal abt this au (lying) and also just wanted to write down a list of things to tag for personal reference
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mukamibabe · 2 years
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Hi Cindy!
How do you think teen S,M,T boys (maybe around 13 years old) will react to getting in trouble in school and the principal calls their step-mother (Karl's new wife in S and M boys case (they love her dearly) and T's aunt who is like a mother to them) to school,but when she arrives the principal starts flirting with her and threatens to kick the boys out of school and make sure they don't get admission anywhere else if she wouldn't submit to his wishes?
AND how will Karl react to such behaviour towards his beautiful wife?
oooh this was pretty creative, thanks for requesting! under the cut due to length, but that shouldn't surprise you at this point lol
also before i get into this, i know you said teen/preteen, but here's the tough thing,,, . dl timelines.. they're tricky Jdgfhgdg yes i know lore shouldn't matter in this case but,,,, sajfhsdf anyways think of the younger diaboy sprites just ..slightly older? i have no idea, basically im just envisioning them as their young sprites + with the early trauma. i guess? no idea, i know i'm overthinking it haha
also, i guess this is technically an au and i'm most likely bending things a bit but i'll leave it up to you whether or not the younger boys know of one another's existences. or at least, specifically the mukami's. idk??
oh and !! i ended up writing this where like.. it would be each boy separately, if that makes sense? instead of the principal like.. expelling all of them
sakamaki's
shu:
okay, so i'm picturing during this time, shu was still pretty naive, at least in comparison to his current self. 
though, it makes a lot of sense for him to get in trouble at school due to his lack of like.. wanting to do things. he’s still a kid, or at least he wants to be. and this is most likely before uhhh the whole.. polar bear thing so he doesn’t know the extremities of his father’s consequences,,,
anyway. he knows he’s going to be in trouble. he’ll just deal with it. but, once he sees his step-mother?? (who he genuinely sees as a mother as opposed to all of karl’s other wives,, bc she’s actually nice to them) 
shu isn’t sure whether or not he should be relieved because this means he’s not going to get reprimanded, as he definitely expected literally anyone but his stepmom,, there’s also a part of him that almost feels guilty? 
i mean, what can you expect? shu truly doesn’t want to disappoint his stepmother, who has basically (assumingly???) been the only one to actually praise him and even just show him affection. so yea, he feels kind of bad. he doesn’t want to let her down, specifically. 
the guilt only grows more once the principal starts getting a little bold, i guess you could say
at first, shu doesn’t really pick up on the flirting- he’s not an idiot, but his stepmother is quite charming, so it’s understandable? he guesses?? he isn’t slow to notice the sudden shift of mood from his stepmother, either. even if she hides it well, he’ll pick up on any sort of discomfort, and it concerns him.
shu eventually insists on sticking up for his stepmother, at least in the best way he can without causing a scene. as i said, shu isn’t stupid, he knows that the principal literally just threatened her, and he knows it was wrong
he jumps in right away, trying to reassure both his stepmom and the principal that it’s not going to happen again. he does want to threaten the principal in return, but he doesn’t want anything to escalate
now, in this situation, i’m guessing they end up leaving anyways, because like ?? what’s the principal gonna do?? hold everyone hostage??? 
so.. yeah. that happens. and after it happens, shu honestly feels horrible about it. he’s not worried about his own education or anything, he just feels bad that his stepmother had to go through this, specifically because of him. 
reiji:
so.. if such thing were to happen, reiji would straight up be distraught over it. not specifically the harassment of his stepmother (which is something he’s not happy about either but what comes first for reiji is those grades) 
the amount of self hatred he feels for this?? he has no idea how it even happened. he’s always done his best, and has never been in trouble before so that kind of is,, his main worry;;
if reiji did actually do something to get in trouble, i doubt it would be over grades. and if that were the case, i’m not sure he’d own up to it. or any of it at all, actually. he’s persistent that he’s done nothing wrong.
now, once the principal comes in with all of the threats and whatnot? reiji is livid. it’s amazing how angry he is, honestly.
like, such a young little thing to feel so much wrath? uhmm yikes. rip.
he looses his composure just a bit, you’ll notice that he’s really on edge because he knows the principal is full of it- 
there’s a part of reiji that literally wants to slit the principal’s throat, but.. he wont. he’s not going to make a mess, at least not in front of his mother.
in this period of time, i’m still assuming reiji decided to uhh set fire to edgar, so reiji wanting to,,,dispose of the principal? not super surprising
reiji tries to hide how upset he is, but his stepmother knows him well enough that he’s lowkey livid. he keeps it together for the most part, though
he doesn’t actually acknowledge the reason for her being there, but he does say that the principal doesn’t matter- the stepmother, in the long run, ultimately has more power. i mean, she’s married to his father. a king. there’s no way some school principal is going to be more powerful than that. 
lmao not really accurate but i definitely thought of My FAther will hEar aBOut tHis’ 
anyways. reiji is standing beside his stepmom like a little devil on her shoulder, basically reassuring her that the principal can’t even lay a hand on either of them, and their life means little. easily disposable. literal devil, lol
ayato:
so, it’s probably not the first time this has happened. ayato does try, sometimes. but he’s not some nerd. he can be the greatest even without learning all this school stuff, so whatever
..that doesn’t stop the school from punishing him lol
his stepmother should be used to it, at this point, so maybe the principal has had their eyes on her for a while? idk. either way, a majority of the time, ayato is oblivious to it all. after getting in trouble with things like this, ayato will be there physically, but he basically just ignores everything else going on around him. 
but, maybe out of boredom or something, ayato starts paying attention. and he’s not at all pleased to hear the principal threaten his stepmom. 
he feels the same way reiji does, honestly. except, rather than thinking like?? stfu principal, youre threating a king’s wife+son, ayato literally thinks: you’re messing with me, the great ayato sakamaki. 
lmao this mindset is most likely the reason for him being in trouble in the first place,,,
anyway, another thing that makes his reaction completely different from reiji’s is that: he’s literally the opposite. this poor kid is willing to create the biggest commotion, so long as it means his stepmother is safe and feels comfortable. 
i don’t want to say he’s entirely oblivious to her discomfort, but just the tension in the room doesn’t feel right to him, and he wants to get this over with, quickly.
i almost hate to say it lol but think of him like a rabid chihuahua or something. screaming little guy with pure fire JHDFSDF seriously though. that’s basically it
also unfortunately i imagine that the triplets don’t get to see the stepmom often, so long as cordelia is around. as soon as ‘that woman’, being the stepmother, is around, cordelia will be watching her sons like a hawk. because cordelia knows that the other woman will treat her sons differently. ..though, this isn’t the topic for now 
anyways that’s just another reason why ayato is so defensive about the situation. he does value his step mother because he does crave her praise and just.. the love that he’s not gotten to feel before. it’s natural that he’d want to be super protective over her.
kanato:
most likely got in trouble for throwing a tantrum or something,, and probably doesn’t really know why he’s being disciplined in the first place.
so when he hears the principal say he’s going to get kicked out of school?? along some other things, of which he didn’t bother to listen to, he kind of.. loses it. 
whether he goes batshit or starts sobbing, i’m not sure. that, or he’ll completely just.. go silent. head empty, sort of thing
kanato’s reaction, in comparison to the others so far, might be more dull and less,,, emotional? or because of his relationship with his stepmom, i guess?
i’ve always imagined scenario’s like this to be super conflicting for kanato because there’s a part of him that wants to stay loyal to his own blood mother, but all he wants is attention. and the way his stepmother feels? he feels so warm inside, and he loves it. he wishes he could feel that with cordelia, but.. .
yeah. so, it’s a tough one. kanato would definitely love his stepmother though, or at least the care he receives from her. 
to bring up some more trauma,,, i both feel as if kanato is completely unaware of the principal’s predatory actions, but also entirely aware of it. i’m not sure how to explain it, but something about it seems familiar to him, and there’s a part of him that’s just.. acknowledging it as a bad thing for his stepmom
because of that, kanato will do his best to ensure he and his stepmother get out of there as soon as possible. might literally tug her by the hand just.. out of the office lmao
laito:
hm.. this one is tricky because it kind of.. depends. but, i really can’t see laito getting in too much trouble other than grades itself, or like a lack of participation, which might go hand in hand,,?
anyways, his reaction to the principal threatening his stepmother is quite.. stale, i guess? 
i definitely think laito would recognize it for what it is, that being predatory and just disgusting behavior,, but how he would respond to it.. is a bit tricky
at this time, i’m picturing him to be still fairly innocent, though not entirely. anyway, laito knows. 
he knows the principal is awful for trying to threaten both laito and his stepmother. but.. what can he do?
he feels lost, really. there is a part of him that feels a tinge of regret- if he had done as he was supposed to, this entire mess wouldn’t be happening. though the regret isn’t exactly his biggest worry
he genuinely has no idea how to respond or what to do, so he just tries to reaffirm his stepmother that everything’s going to be fine- he can get into a new school, the principal’s words don’t matter, ect
subaru:
scholarly things just.. aren’t for subaru. so it doesn’t surprise me that he’d get in trouble over it
that being said, his principal treating his stepmother like that?? it fuels something in him that he had no idea existed
he’s pissed, and he really can’t put a finger on why he’s so upset over this. but, does he need a reason? 
subaru reacts instantly upon hearing the principal. like, instantly. he lashes out, quickly switching from his quiet manner into this.. explosion
he couldn’t help it. it just triggered something in him, honestly. and.. subaru really isn’t the best at handling his emotions, as we know. so yeah, it’s kind of a surprise, i guess
he could care less about the consequences, he just doesn’t want any more of his loved ones to get hurt. though, technically speaking,,, i dont think subaru knows what love is, nor does he know what it’s like to feel loved, but you get what im saying
i mean, if his stepmom is going to get themself in trouble somehow, subaru would rather not be the one responsible. yes, he knows, he’s not responsible for it (like some of the others, there’s a tad bit of guilt, but subaru doesn’t care that much) but listen. if he can stop the principal from harassing his stepmother, he will. even more so because his stepmother has been good to him
honestly, it’s a bit weird but subaru’s situation might be the messiest out of all of them. 
deep down, he knows his father could probably help the situation, but subaru would hate that. he has no idea why his stepmother is even with him, and if his father were to be a good husband for once, his wife wouldn’t have to put up with this. 
realistically,,,, maybe not,, but. .subaru has it out for karl. for a good reason,,,.
mukami’s
ruki: 
ooof ok this one is also tricky because he’s like reiji. at least, in regards to education. sort of. not really. but sort of.
basically, errors in school just aren’t really likely for ruki. he’s smart, he knows it, and rarely does he skip out on educational stuff kjsdghsdg
so im ? guessing . .maybe he was being a brat. i have no idea lmao 
all that is besides the point, though. and because this is after the mukami’’s have been turned, ruki is a little less of a brat. only a bit lol
either way, ruki has a similar response to reiji. the principal has literally no power in comparison to ruki, or at least, ruki’s savoir. that being: karl. karlheinz’ wife, who also happens to be his stepmother, and someone he does somewhat see as a maternal figure (though it’s super super complicated and wayyy too in depth for me to explain here-), he knows the principal literally has nothing in comparison to them.
...it would not be that big of a deal if they were to, say, go missing without a trace. seriously, who would care? also, they’d deserved it, right?
unlike reiji, though, ruki isn’t going to set the principal’s house on fire LMAO he just rats him out to karlheinz honestly
or he encourages his stepmom to do something about it. wink. DJFSJDF
kou:
why :( that’s honestly so mean LOL
kou’s a pretty good kid in school. struggles a bit, and is, by no means the perfect student, but he’s not the worst. but, rude!!
kou thinks so, anyways. though, i think out of all the diaboys in this situation, as horrible as it is, kou’s probably used to this? and/or has been through a similar situation at some point in his early life. 
he’s not sure how to respond to it, though. he just looks up at his stepmother expectantly, almost pleading for her to just put her foot down and leave
if the principal is willing to suspend him or ban him, whatever. kou doesn’t care, and he’d rather not be in a school with a corrupt principal like that. it scares him, honestly.
yeah, he’s just very adamant about leaving. kou will be very open about how he doesn’t mind getting kicked out of the school, he’ll take the repercussions, he just .. doesn’t want to be near that person
even if they weren’t harassing kou himself, who’s to say they wont?? if they have the nerve to threaten his stepmom, then.. yeah he’s kind of worried
yuma:
another oof lol i mean, yuma gets it. i can picture him struggling with school, some things more than others, but still,,,
even yuma recognizes that it’s a bit extreme. yeah, he knows that the principal doesn’t have it out for him but rather his stepmom. still, though. really??
yuma doesn’t have any problem arguing with the principal, though. he’ll do so without hesitation lol
like, seriously? you think that would work?? your school fuckin’ sucks anyway,
aand he continues to rat out the principal sjfhsfd
what, you’re so shitty that you have to bribe someone to be with you??? 
jsdfhd honestly there’s not much else to say other than yuma will tear this principal down and not care
he’s gotta protect his stepmom, ok?? he’d probably do it for anyone else, because yuma hates the abuse of power, but like.. still. really?? his stepmom??? is the principal that dumb?? do they not know who his stepmom is married to??
azusa:
like yuma, azusa isn’t the best with school. i imagine it’s a pretty big struggle for him, and i bet his stepmother knows that as well
no matter how much reassuring his stepmother does for him, he’ll feel so bad about it. he wont be sobbing or crying or anything, but just a sort of like.. numbness. he’d feel worthless. 
that feeling gets worse once the principal starts threatening him. and his mom. 
i doubt azusa trusted the principal in the first place, but either way, it still feels like a betrayal and lowkey it hurts him. a lot.
what hurts even more is that his stepmother is involved, and she doesn’t seem keen to be flirted with by the principal. he really can’t help but feel at fault.
honestly, in this case, i think the stepmother would probably carry along the situation because azusa will just stand there like :(
he’s too nervous to speak up and what not
tsukinami’s
carla:
the audacity,,,,
why? why would they even dare to do that?? it’s honestly funny to carla
also, both me and probably carla lmao have no idea why he’d get in trouble at school. he doesn’t believe the principal because like.. he doesn’t do anything wrong
honestly i don’t think there’s much to say about this one because carla knows he’s got more power over the principal. 
...and because of that, the principal is likely,,, not going to be there for any longer
seriously lol don’t worry auntie <3 he’s got you DJFHSJDF how? no idea. but this boy will dispose of him without any issues
shin:
no. 
no, no you don’t. his aunt is one of the few people shin appreciates in his life, and some loser of a principal isn’t going to get away with threatening her. or himself, for that matter. 
truthfully, he doesn’t care about getting kicked from school, and i wouldn’t be surprised that he’d gotten in trouble. shin isn’t the naughtiest kid, but he’s not the best, either. super mouthy lol
his mouth is probably the reason for his trouble, and it’ll continue to be the issue. like yuma, he’ll tell the principal off, and then, like his brother, will do whatever he can in order to make them disappear. because what difference would it make, really?
+ karlheinz:
yeahhh this principal.. probably wont live for much longer. or, he’ll live slightly longer but at the cost of being karlheinz’ new lab rat. 
the issue isn’t actually that big of a deal for karlheinz- his wife has been flirted with before, surely- karlheinz has good taste, afterall- so he’s not worried. she knows better to get with anyone else, anyways. 
it’s also.. quite annoying that the principal has the nerve to threaten his children. nevermind the tsukinami’s, he doesn’t really care because.. they’re not his to control, basically jsdfhsdf
that’s exactly why he’s not happy with the principal, though. just the audacity, really. to even think that they have the power to do so?? it’s almost funny to karl. 
but no. no one gets to threaten his children, or his wife, but him. KJfdsfs 
#trying a new.. format type of thing#i have no idea lol im just testing things out i guess#not even sure if it would be formatting but whatever#sorry this took me a minute#and if it's not the best? ?uhhh also sorry#definitely feel like it got shorter as it progressed but.. idk i just didn't know how to make it super repetitive#anyways ty <3#if anyone wants an update on my life: here i present you with. tag talking#im *still* into the ssum. teo and i are married now JHDFJDSFH im also *still* into a particular fox boy. or two 😳 JHHFDJHJDF#oh!!!!!!!! and im back into assassins creed. surprise but not really#have i ever talked about my love for that franchise on here before?? im not sure#i feel llike i definitely have at some point though.. i share everything in the tags lmao only the most useless info#anyways <3 lady eivor my beloved#im. ..love WOME N#WOMENN!!!!#speaking of; i played the sims again. i played with sim cordelia + threw her into a household with my ocs and omg#a hot MESS!! cordelia almost made my baby boy olivier get DIVORCED!!! she almost made his s/o break up their engagement lmao#and then! with her </3 gal pal maribel.. all they did was flirt and insult eachother lmao#i love the sims so much ok??? long story short: cordelia brings chaos wherever she goes#god does anyone even know about my ocs anymore LOL its been ages#also my sideblog ? dead. dead dead so uh yikes#pls.. dl ocs are so much fun#i say this everytime JHJDSHF#my favorite thing though?? male dl ocs#that's a story for another time though#tagtalk OVER!! BYe adios#fantasticchaosdaze#karlheinz sakamaki#ayato sakamaki#Shu Sakamaki
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makeitlookdecent · 1 year
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ya'll!! i'm watching the Artemis launch and i've been inspired to draw THE (my) OG space boy!!! Anderson from back when i was in school. ^^
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etfrin · 5 months
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⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.
⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror
⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/
arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >
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A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.
Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.
At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.
If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.
Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.
So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”
You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.
“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.
You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.
This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”
“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.
“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.
After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.
The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.
You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.
You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.
You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.
You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.
You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.
He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.
“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.
One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.
And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.
With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.
Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.
The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.
Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.
Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.
Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”
It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.
Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.
You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.
“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.
You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.
“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.
“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.
You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.
You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”
He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.
“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”
“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.
You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.
He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.
“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.
“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.
“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”
He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.
When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.
His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”
“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”
It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.
His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.
Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.
“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.
“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.
He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.
“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”
That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.
His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.
Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.
“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.
Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.
You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.
Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.
You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.
“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”
You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.
“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.
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Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy
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joonberriess · 7 months
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⊹₊ ⋆ “love it when he hit and smack, too, baby lemme lick on your tattoos,”
TAGS — squat-riding!oc, porn without plot, messy sex, slight degradation, dirty talkin, creampies, oc is a nasty pretty thing, she’s cute, jk is pussy-whipped here, oc rides him so good she has him MOANING out loud, blasphemy(?) idk jk is a little devious, oc as a cute coquette and jk as her hot grunge bf, mentions of cum eating
WORD COUNT — 1.9 k
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Jungkook knew he was fucked the moment that soft “Jungkookie” left your lips, you were all he could think about for days.
Could anyone blame him though? Even as he sat behind you with his large hands massaging over your soft feet, he still couldn’t believe he had gotten this lucky. “You’re so quiet.” You softly hum while tossing him a look over your shoulder, “Somethin’ wrong?” You purse your glossy lips in a soft pout.
“Nothing baby.” Jungkook gently squeezed your delicate calf, “Just lost in thought I guess.” He shrugs.
You stare at him for a few moments before pausing whatever was playing on your laptop, you turn on all fours and crawl towards him, “Tell me,” you stop in front of him—knees on either side and your face inches away from his, “I wanna hear it.” You softly say while eyeing his lips and chains appreciatively.
Jungkook admires your own dangling necklace with a tiny gold cross hanging so innocently. He licks his lips and sits up, “Do you? Or are you just saying that so you can distract me,” he chuckles breathily, “greedy little thing you are. Can’t even go one second without trying something.” He squeezes your cherub cheek gently.
You playfully pout and tilt your head, “I just wanted an excuse to say I’ll make you feel better,” you gently sway your hips side to side, watching with a tiny grin as Jungkook’s eyes follow your soft round cheeks sitting so perfectly in your pink silk shorts, “unless you don’t wanna..?” You softly breathe out.
Jungkook runs his tongue over his lip as he stares back at you with hooded eyes, “Don’t wanna what, hm?” He’s fucking with you of course, he just wants to hear it come out your mouth.
“Lemme ride it,” you innocently say, “don’t you wanna make it nasty and messy until your cum’s drippin’ out?” You purr softly while leaning in to kiss his cheek and then his jawline, inching upwards towards his ear, “ ‘m so wet for you Jungkookie, feel me,” you whisper while guiding his tattooed hand towards your shorts, exhaling shakily in excitement as he dips his fingers into your panties and slots them right up against your sticky pussy lips.
Jungkook tilts his head to the side, letting you latch on to his neck as you marked him up like this was the last time you were going to see him, “You little fucking minx,” he grunts, “greedy little pussy can’t go one day without a fuckin’, baby’s so desperate for cock aren’t you?” He grabs your chin and forces you to face him, “Hm?”
You nod with a tiny ‘mm-hm’, “Always want you, can’t help that you fill my pussy so good… Always leaves me drippin’ n wanting more.” You softly say against his lips while grinding against his fingers, “ ‘s not my fault you made me like this.” You bat your pretty lashes at him and purse your lips.
Jungkook curses under his breath and meanly pinches your clit, “Then get to it since you wanna act like a little bitch in heat,” he pulls his hand out and lands a hard smack across your ass. You moan softly and eagerly clamber on to his lap, he attacks your neck in a flurry of kisses while wildly sucking over your soft skin, “so fucking soft,” he mutters, “there you go baby, go ‘head and take my cock out, wanna watch you ride it like the filthy little slut you are.” He whispers low.
You tilt your head and press your lips to his, your hand makes quick work of pushing his boxers down his thighs until they sit under his balls. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cockhead leaking precum, some of it dribbles down his shaft leaving a clear trail of pearly white on his cock.
“Can I..?” You ask ever so politely while begging him with those puppy eyes and your lip between your teeth.
Jungkook swallows harshly and nods, “Go on, not gonna ride itself.” He guides you over his cock, shoving your silk shorts out of the way and yanking your panties to the side with two fingers.
You bite your lip and position your sopping cunt over the head, sliding him through the sticky mess between your soft folds. There’s low squelching as you slide his cock over your sensitive clit and down to your winking hole. A low moan slips from your lips as your pussy hugs the tip, pink rim stretching to accommodate his thick cock. Your lips part in a ‘o’ after seating yourself firmly on his lap.
Jungkook huffs under his breath and lies back all the way while watching you with hooded eyes, “Not too loud baby,” he murmurs, “nice and slow—fuck, hear that, ‘s your little pussy dripping for me.” He lazily grins while throwing his arm behind his head, watching the way you rolled your hips in slow lazy circles.
“Mm.. ‘s not enough,” you quietly whisper while placing your hands over his abdomen, “can I? Pretty please, promise I’ll make it so good for you if you’ll let me,” you moan while rolling your head back, “ride it just the way you like Jungkookie.” You smile.
Jungkook bites down on his lip and holds back a loud groan, he can’t focus with the way you ride his cock like you’re trying to spell coconut on his dick. Your pussy hugs him just right as it drags over his sensitive cock, massaging his swollen shaft with the right amount of pressure and grip.
His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a muffled moan, “Fuck—yes baby, like that,” he grips your ass cheeks with both hands and moves you back and forth on his cock sensually, “feels so fuckin’ hot around me—nice n wet too.” He pants softly as massages both cheeks before smacking his hands against them.
You bite your lip—half-giggling, half-moaning—and move from his grip to bounce back on his cock a few times. Jungkook moans out and tosses his head back into the pillows, “Shit, like that—keep going.” You reach behind you to place your hands over his while you drag your pussy over his cock repeatedly, riding up to the tip before slamming back down.
Jungkook’s the one moaning and panting under his breath now, occasionally tiny little whimpers leave you but it’s nothing compared to Jungkook who looks like he’s getting the ride of his life. You slide your hips up slowly and then let your ass fall back on to his lap, your bubbly flesh rippling as they slap against his thighs. There’s a faint slick noise in the background as your pussy leaks over his fat cock, your creamy white slick dribbling down his shaft and to his balls.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out softly and pry his hands off your ass, he makes a wounded noise like it pains him to not be holding your ass. He lifts his head to look at you as if asking why, only to let out a long moan as his head slumps back, “Want you to fill me up,” you pout while placing your hands over his chest, knees knocked apart as you raised your hips, “want all of it in my pussy Jungkookie, promise I’ll clean my mess up,” your hips start moving sensually, you purposely clenched for that extra effect.
The bed rocked quietly under the weight of you two, it was accompanied by the dull thumping of your headboard knocking into the wall. To make things worse, your pussy was making these delicious little wet noises as his cock emerged with streaks of white creamy slick. He could see a white ring of slick form around the base of his shaft getting pushed back into your pussy and then coming right back down on his cock.
It was a fucking miracle your parents hadn’t come up to see what all the commotion was about. “Yeah?” He pants breathlessly, “Gonna be a good little cum dump and keep my cum warm in your sloppy little pussy?” He opens his eyes to look down at where your pussy meets his cock. You weren’t lying about making it messy..
“Mm-hm,” you moan, “promise. Not a drop ‘s gonna waste.” You huff and slam your hips down, rocking together before repeating the same thing over again. His cock hit that spot that drove you wild just right, and not wanting to lose the angle you kept fucking yourself back on him just greedily chasing the pleasure.
His eyes caught on to the dangling cross in his face, he watched it swing back and forth so innocently. Jungkook let out a poorly suppressed groan and looked up at your blissed out face in awe. You never failed to look so fucking pretty even in the throes of pleasure/sex. He’d for sure have a picture of you like this in his wallet or some shit.
“ ‘m gonna,” you quietly whine, “ ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper out while bouncing faster, “please, can I?”
Jungkook hisses as he slows you down, “Can you hold it in for me baby? ‘m so close too,” he whispers breathlessly while panting. He sees you give the tiniest of nods before he pulls you down so you’re lying over him, “Good girl,” he grits his teeth and begins plowing you from below, “good fucking girl.” He growls.
Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you hide your face in his neck, toes curling as he pounds his cock over and over again into your (already) sore pussy. “More, more, more,” you whine out while spreading your thighs apart a bit more.
Jungkook slaps his hips upwards as quickly as he can manage, his balls slap harshly against your ass as the sounds of skin on skin fill the bedroom along with your panting and breathing moans. He buries his face in your shoulder and bites down, not hard enough to bleed but enough for it to mark. His cock throbs and spurts of cum begin flooding your messy little cunt.
He doesn’t think he’s cum this hard ever since the night you both first started having sex.
You had let Jungkook take your virginity in the back of his pick-up truck, bent over with your bruised knees knocking into eachother while he fucked you like a man possessed from behind. Your poor little pussy was so swollen from the rough treatment, the pain and pleasure ended up becoming one and all you could do was beg for more while drool slipped from the corner of your lips. At a particular thrust Jungkook sent you squealing as you stood on your tippy toes, your pretty white sneakers contrasting Jungkook’s black boots as you whimpered and tangled your legs with his.
Jungkook’s mind blanks out as he reaches down to rub furious circles on your sensitive bud, he has you squirming in his lap as you clench down tightly before a low whine of his name escapes your lips. You both slump into each other until you roll off him and on to the bed next to him, “That was–”
“I know,” he replies, swallowing harshly, “you think they heard?” He turns to look at you.
You stare back with a dreamy look in your eye, “Dunno,” you shrug cutely before rolling over to climb over him, “but I feel empty,” you softly say and guide his semi-hard cock towards your pussy, “what? Gotta keep it in somehow.” You motion to your dripping cunt, you hiss in sensitivity before laying down on him, “So what are we eating?” You tilt your head with a cheeky smile.
Jungkook laughs breathlessly, “You’re seriously thinking about food?”
“Not me, I know what I’m eating.” You lick your lips deviously, giggling when you hear Jungkook moan in protest as his cock weakly twitches.
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kentopedia · 2 months
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𝐢. 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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after you find out about the marriage arranged between you and nanami kento, you have to find a way to break the news to your lover.
contents . . . sfw, breakups, light angst, f!reader, arguing, gojo x reader, masterlist linked above for more series contents — 2.3k
notes . . . hi everyone !! i'm so so excited to finally share this series, i've been having so much fun with it hehe. in case you haven't seen the masterlist, this is a nanami series, but this first part is gojo x reader... so idk how to tag it lol.
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Twigs snapped beneath you as you ran through the garden, barely holding onto the last strain of composure that you had. It was nearing sundown, but you ignored that, reaching the edge of your family’s estate and approaching the creek, careless to any dangers. The sounds of the water grew louder and louder in your ears as you drew closer, turning from a faint trickle to a roar. 
The look on your parent’s face when they’d delivered the news was still burned into your irises, replaying in your mind as you landed one foot in front of the other. How unexpressive they’d been, straight to business — as if they didn’t care at all. It was your future they were messing with, but it seemed they didn’t mind throwing away your happiness. 
You arrived at the creek much faster than anticipated, your breaths heaving as you headed down the hill. 
Satoru was already there, as you’d expected, running his hands through the murky water. His blue eyes shot over from the sound of the leaves crunching, an easy smile on his face, revealing sharp canines.
“What took you so long?” Satoru asked, looking over his shoulder with his typical, lopsided grin. Though, as soon as he saw the tears that were welling in your eyes, his face fell, giving way to a gloomy expression. “Hey, hey, hey. My darling…” he cooed, the tone of his voice so tender. “What’s the matter?” 
You’d been doing a wonderful job at holding back your tears until then, but they began to spill down your cheeks, hot and heavy, dripping off your chin. Your nose began to burn. “I—” you started, then choked on a sob, burying your face in your hands, unable to continue. 
The sound of the creek, rushing through the woods, at least spared you some embarrassment, as it blocked out your cries. 
Satoru was quick to scramble to his feet and make his way over to you, not even thinking before he’d wrapped you up in a warm embrace. He smelled vaguely of the stables, still, as well as the outside, a thick air of sweat lingering on his skin. 
“Take a breath,” Satoru said soothingly, rubbing your spine as you cried into his shoulder, coating his tunic with the weight of your tears. 
“I’m sorry,” you said, squeezing your fingers into his top. The cloth wound up between them, wrinkling the fabric. “I’m so sorry, Satoru.” 
“Whatever are you sorry for, my sweet?” Satoru didn’t draw away, but you could tell that he wanted to… He wanted to question what it was that had made you cry, when he’d seen you earlier in such a jovial state, so thrilled for your rendezvous as the sun bled into the evening. 
The conversation with your parents still lingered at the forefront of your mind, laced with a tinge of distaste and betrayal. 
How desperately you wished you could escape your responsibilities, run from them without guilt. But even now, already a few years into your adulthood, you still felt the burning need to please your family. 
You pressed your eyes shut, deeply inhaling Satoru’s sweet aroma, in case it were the last you ever got of it. “My family has known this whole time. They knew, and they never intended to let me marry you.” 
You’ve spent far too long with the stable boy, dear, and we’ve let you have your fun. Don’t think that we haven’t known, all these years, that he’s the reason you’re pushing all your suitors away. 
Those were words you’d certainly never forget.
Satoru drew away, his eyes narrowed as he scanned your face. Still, there was no sense of panic, his icy irises as steadfast and confident as ever. “Is that it?” he asked, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, soaking up the tears with his lips. “Well, we’ll just have to do without their permission, won’t we? I know your family is very dear to you, but—”
Your face screwed up tighter, watery eyes blurring your vision. “It is not as easy as you make it out to be, Satoru. Despite what you may think, I do not wish for them to hate me. Not to mention, your livelihood depends on their employment. They will not pay my dowry if you are my husband. They will not employ you any longer, and I’ll—”
“That doesn’t matter,” Satoru said, insistent, his optimism succumbing to irritation as you argued. “We can surely find other means to survive.” 
“Survive?” you frowned, features contorting as the tears, momentarily, restrained. “I do not wish to live a life where we have to fight to get by. Besides—”
But Satoru spoke over you, spilling words of grandeur, in a world where things worked out exactly as planned. But your outlook had never been as positive, and his dreams seemed no more than that, in the face of reality. 
“Satoru.” You raised your voice, ever so slightly, and pushed him away, as if to finally make him hear your words. “You’re not listening to me. Even if we could, even if everything you’re saying happened like you want it to, they’ve already found me another husband.”
Silence. It was enough to hear the wind slipping through the trees, swaying the branches. Leaves fell at your feet, swirling around your ankles, a breeze suddenly picking up, as if aware of your quarrel. 
The two of you stared at each other, basked in the last golden rays of the evening. For the first time in decades, it seemed, you were unsure what to say to one another.
Satoru scanned your face, his lips parting, jaw working as he fought for words. “Another husband.” 
“Yes.” Your exhale came out heavy as you blinked away from him, glancing over his shoulder, so as not to face the intensity of his irises. “I’m getting older; men will not be so willing to take me as their bride. So my parents worked something out with a friend of my father’s. His son is a few years older than me,” you sniffed. “He’s been unwilling to get married, but now that his mother is sick…” you shrugged, confused and defeated, as you wrung your hands together. “I’ve been told her final wish is to see her son married.”
“What a wish,” Satoru rolled his eyes, scoffing, “to see your child in a loveless relationship.”
You said nothing. Satoru wouldn’t understand the ways of the nobility, wouldn’t understand the responsibility that you felt. He’d never met his parents, and never had the chance to care about them. 
He huffed instead, running his hands through his snowy hair as he paced close to the water’s edge. It soaked the soles of his shoes, ruining the leather, but he didn’t seem to mind, too deep in his thoughts.
“You have no say in the matter?” Satoru finally asked, his shoulders slumping, as he turned back to face you once again. “You’re just going to let them tell you how to live your life, submit yourself to a man who might be cruel to you?”
“Satoru…” you began, considering defending yourself, before you conceded. “I’m sorry. I care for you, I do, but you must understand.”
“Oh, I understand just fine. You surprised me, is all. I thought you’d put love over things like that.” 
You swallowed, shoving away the engulfing sadness as he paced back toward you, his wet shoes creating muddy footprints in the ground. 
“You can’t honestly have thought that all our silly dreams would come to fruition. You knew all along that this was just a fleeting fancy, didn’t you?” 
“On the contrary, I thought this was serious.” To your surprise, Satoru dug through his pocket, throwing a ring at you, one that was nothing close to extravagant, but beautiful all the same. “I’ve carried this for weeks now… just waiting. There was never a good time to propose, but I really did want to marry you. How’s that for fleeting?” 
Your jaw fell slack. A fresh wave of tears began as you bent down, soiling your pastel gown in the grass and mud to pick up the ring. It was a simple gold band, shiny and smooth — probably months worth of his salary. 
Nausea rose up in you as you dusted off the fine piece of jewelry, staring at it with affection. “Dear lord,” you said, not even bothering to wipe the snot that ran in a smooth stream from you nose, just like your tears. “Why did you have to tell me this?”
“I won’t spare you the kindness of ignorance. I want you to know exactly what you’re throwing away.”
“That’s not—” you shook your head, eyes glued to the ring. “I don’t want you out of my life. I love you, Satoru. I want to be with you, I just can't… But, perhaps, we can still see each other?”
Your lover stared, blinking once, then again, his white eyelashes fanning over pale cheeks. Then, a loud laugh escaped from him, deep from his chest, as if in horror. “You want me to be your whore?” he asked, aghast, infiltrating your space as he backed you into a tree. 
You glanced up at him, eyes wide, pressing your hands to the smooth expanse of his chest. “I—”
“I love you. I love you, and I’d dedicate my life to supporting you,” his voice was pained, cracking on the vowels. “But that means nothing to you, does it? You’re so selfish.” 
The word felt like a slap to the face — the same that your family had called you, when they’d admitted they knew of your dalliance. Either way, you would lose. You were selfish for bringing such disgrace to your family’s respectable lineage, or you were selfish for choosing your responsibility over your lover. 
“i just don’t know what to do.” Your voice felt small; the weakness of it softened Satoru’s expression, if only by a fraction. 
He exhaled. “Well, I know. Go back home, tell your parents to fuck whoever wants your hand, and run away with me. Be with me,” Satoru pressed his forehead to your own, desperate. “Please. I love you, I adore you, I’ll worship you. What more do you want?”
You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Satoru…” His hands went still on your waist. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.” 
For the first time in all your years together, since the moment you’d met him as an infant, you felt a distance crack between you, breaking into a cavern. Satoru had been your best friend, your constant companion, the person you’d always thought would be a part of your life. Now, the risk you’d taken by falling in love with him had finally come to pass. You weren’t sure that your relationship could ever be remedied, after such a poor conclusion.
“You’re a coward,” Satoru finally said, spitting your name like it was a curse, and you flinched, dipping your chin to your collarbone. There was no love in those words, no gentleness; they were meant to hurt. “You think you’re different than all the other women of nobility, but you’re not. You want to be spoon-fed like the rest of them, waited on hand and foot, reliant on the money of your family and your husband.”
You sniffled, hands shaking as you clenched your jaw. Satoru had a sharp tongue — he always had — but it’d never been used against you. For the first time, you knew what it was like to be looked at by Gojo Satoru with disdain, and it was awful. 
“That’s cruel… Don’t you understand what you’re asking me to do? You’re asking me to leave behind my family, my life, my security. You want me to leave everything with no plan at all?”
“I understand well enough.” He stepped away, backing up until you could no longer smell the sweat that clung to his sleeves, until you could no longer see the contrasts of blues in his irises. “Truthfully, I don’t believe I know you like I thought I did. I never assumed you’d be so hesitant to leave.” 
Despite your tear-filled eyes, you stood taller, trying to keep some semblance of dignity. Like the noble woman you were, you refused to be seen as weak in the face of your emotions. If you were to leave Satoru, you would leave him confident that you were making the right decision. “Perhaps not, then,” you said. “You may have been taken into our home with love and care, but we are not as similar as you were raised to believe.” 
Satoru licked his lips, then clicked his tongue, speechless, before he turned around for good. “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “I should’ve known that the spoiled girl you’d been would turn you into a spoiled woman. I’ve been a fool. Enjoy your sham of a marriage.” He began to walk away, slowly, before gradually picking up his pace, his back as taut as the bow of a violin. 
“Is this really how you wish to end things?” you asked, shouting through the wind at his retreating form. “On such a vile note?” 
“You’re the one that ended things,” Satoru said, and though you hoped that he would glance over his shoulder, spare you one last glimpse before you parted ways forever, he never did. “I only wanted to love you.” 
You opened your mouth, words lingering on your tongue, before you shut it, and let him go. 
Tomorrow, you would regret it. You would long for his warm embrace, his arms, so strong from riding and tending to the horses. You would long for his kiss, gently brushed against your hairline, a smile growing on his lips as you told him about the book you’d read. You would long for a time when you passed him in the hallways and received a grin, instead of a sneer. 
But, for now, thrumming with guilt and grief and rage, you watched him walk away, hands balled at your fist. Maybe he didn’t deserve you anyway. 
Maybe you didn’t deserve him. 
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thank you so much for reading! ‪‪❤︎‬ next part
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breadbrobin · 3 months
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Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?
Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)
But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!
two hearts
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
summary: (as above)
warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)
word count: 3.5k
(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)
———————————————
if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.
you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.
when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.
“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.
“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”
“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”
and that was that.
it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.
monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.
sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.
you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.
the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.
you woke up abruptly.
at first, you were confused as to why.
then you saw the figure on the hill.
it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.
you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?
you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.
luke.
it was luke.
the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.
his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”
“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”
“they’re gone,” he said absently.
you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”
“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.
you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”
his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.
“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”
“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”
“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.
he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.
after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.
you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.
you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.
he didn’t stir.
it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.
sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.
a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.
you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.
“y/n?”
you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”
“where are you?”
you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.
when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.
“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”
and he did. he always did.
there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.
“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.
you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”
“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”
you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.
“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”
you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”
“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.
he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”
and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.
“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.
you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”
“missed me?” he half-grinned.
you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”
he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”
you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”
you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.
it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.
annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.
you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.
it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.
once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.
“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.
you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”
he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.
“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.
you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”
he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.
that was only the beginning.
within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.
“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.
“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.
you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”
“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.
“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.
finally, he was out of the infirmary.
finally, you could work in peace.
finally, you could— oh, what the hell?
“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”
you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”
“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.
you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”
“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”
you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”
“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.
“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.
“you can’t do that,” he gasped.
“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”
his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.
luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.
there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.
he probably did.
his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.
in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.
“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.
“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.
you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.
you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.
“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.
he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”
“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.
his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”
“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”
he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”
your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”
“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.
“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”
he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.
no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.
you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.
maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.
he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.
you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.
“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.
you stayed quiet.
“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”
you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”
he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.
you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.
“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”
“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”
he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”
maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”
he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”
you, you thought. you didn’t speak.
he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”
you swallowed tightly. “luke…”
he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.
“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.
your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”
when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.
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devilmademewriteit · 11 months
Note
Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!
You Can Be the Boss
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pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader
warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).
Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !
more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)
-em<3
“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”
- You Can Be the Boss
It was still a secret, after all.
Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.
Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.
Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.
“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”
That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.
A quick zip, then footsteps.
“Oh, sorry man—”
Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”
It’s your father.
You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.
“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”
Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.
Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.
Not fair.
If only there was a way to even out the playing field.
Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.
And you get an idea.
The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.
So your pussy drips just thinking about it.
Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.
It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.
Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.
“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”
Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”
You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.
“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”
Trouble? You’re looking at him.
Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.
You want to make him lie through his teeth.
You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.
While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.
“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”
You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.
It hasn’t.
Of course it hasn’t.
Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”
Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.
You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.
And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.
“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.
“A heavy hand.”
You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.
Like he always did. Like he always does.
“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”
“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.
Making his point.
You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.
Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.
He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”
A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.
Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.
Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.
Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.
You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.
You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.
They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.
“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.
Dangerous.
And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.
“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”
Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.
His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.
“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.
You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.
“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”
And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST
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megamindsecretlair · 4 months
Text
Mr. Black, Part 1
Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, degradation kink, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.
Summary: Tre is sick and tired of the countless mistakes you make while performing your work duties. You were recently hired and just trying to do your best, but nothing is ever good enough for him.
Word Count: 4,099k
A/N: Listen, Idk what happened. He's barely in 2 mins of the film and it broke my brain. That outfit and that smile was too much for me to handle! Idk how many parts this will be. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
Tagging the usual lovelies, please tell me if you want to be removed: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj
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Shit! He was going to kill you. You whined as the numbers swam in your vision. You desperately looked between two invoices, wondering how you were going to solve this before he found out. 
Your leg bounced as your nerves unraveled the longer you stared at the documents. Shit! You were done for. Your stupid little job was over before you had even gotten started. Your bottom lip quivered. There was no way you were going to recover from this.
Tre’s heavy footsteps pounded the carpet on approach and your heart dropped into your stomach. Shit! 
You pushed the papers on your desk into one huge pile that you’ll painstakingly unravel in the safety of your home. You tapped a few keys on the computer, trying to look busy. He did not need to know that you had been staring at your egregious mistake for the past half hour. 
“Do you have that report I told you to do?” Tre asked, once he reached his office. 
“Yes, Sir,” you said. You gave him a dumb ass, goofy smile. You handed over the report in a yellow folder. He snatched it from you, not sparing you a glance, and stalked into the office. The door slam made you flinch. 
You weren’t even sure why you stuck around this job. You were recently hired to help with the background work stuff while people all around you were getting fired. Tre had been leading that charge. 
Ever since you got hired, you wondered if he hated you. He barely said anything to you except to insult your hard work. Look, the workforce was hard, okay? There’s a lot of shit that school or life doesn’t teach you. More often than not, you had to hide your scrolling on Youtube for any kind of help. 
Even when he was in a good mood, flashing those pearly whites and that sinful smile, it immediately froze whenever you entered the room. Your good mood would evaporate and then you were falling all over yourself trying to correct whatever the issue was.
His coffee was too cold, too black, too sweet. His blinds were up too high and he had a nasty glare. This report was wrong, that report was wrong. No, this wasn’t the one he wanted. Yes, this was the one he wanted. Run out and get some lunch. Well, you took too long, I don’t want it anymore. 
It was exhausting working for the man, but some part of you wanted a crumb of his praise. Just a crumb. You could survive off of it. You knew you sounded pathetic. Your friends and family were getting sick of you complaining about the man. 
Your best friend sort of got it. You snuck a picture of Tre one day and showed her. She nearly fell off of your couch when she saw him.
“This? This is your boss?” 
Yes, he is seriously your boss. And he was a fucking asshole. Who else would feel absolutely nothing about firing people a few days before Christmas? Christmas! It was your favorite holiday and just thinking about all the tiny traditions made you so giddy, your heart flipped.
Person after person, box after box, floated by your desk looking absolutely miserable. You watched their tortured faces and your heart hurt thinking that all their years of service fit into one tiny box. The tinsel and ornaments decorating the office seemed like cruel mocking reminders that there would be no Christmas cheer for them. 
“Get in here, now!” You jerked out of your seat. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The intercom flashed red and then turned off. You hated that damn box. Whatever happened to sending a chat? Way less intrusive and easier on your nerves.
You stood up with your heart racing. The pulse in your neck thumped so painfully, you placed your hand there to try and steady it. Realistically, you didn’t have to tell him about the mistake right now. You just needed a chance to find out what you did wrong.
You smoothed your checkered skirt suit, wiping your sweaty palms on the thick material. El Segundo didn’t get that cold, but the mornings were brutal. 
You bit your lip as you approached his office door. You opened it. Tre stood over his desk, one hand on his hip and a paper in his hand. It had to be the report he asked for. You assumed that since it was so late in the evening, that he’d read it first thing in the morning. You had hoped to leave here with a little hope. Not defeated like the past few nights, still not living up to his impossible standards.
All things considered, he was damn delicious. His favorite aesthetic was black. Black shirts, jackets, pants, shoes. The only hint of color on him were his gold chains and glasses. His thick beard complimented his facial structure beautifully. It was an odd mix being both attracted to and afraid of your boss. 
“Close the door,” he said. 
You followed his command. Shit. You were really in it. Was it your report he was reading? Or did he magically glean that you royally fucked up a fifteen million dollar contract? 
Your stomach roiled. You were going to be fucking sick. 
You approached the front of his desk like a deer in headlights. There was no room for you to maneuver. It was you, the headlights, and inevitable death. Shit, would you go to jail over something like this? 
You twisted your fingers as you stood there and waited for him to acknowledge you. He gave a long sigh and then put the paper down. 
“Come here,” he said. His tone was so disrespectful and biting. It was insulting coming from such a pretty man with a soft, ungodly voice. 
You rounded his giant desk and stood beside him. He was so huge. Thick muscles bunching the confines of his black suit jacket. You gulped and glanced down. He was looking at your report.
“What does this say?” He asked and pointed to a sentence.
“Due to the natre, er, nature, of the findngs.” Shit. This thing had so many damn typos in it. You typed the damn thing up, distracted, watching all of the people you never got to know walk out of here. Their faces haunted you day in and day out. You shouldn’t care, but well, here you were. 
If he had done this at any other time, maybe it wouldn’t have affected you so much. If he fired people around, say…St. Patrick’s Day, then at least people would have an excuse to hide their inevitable drinking. 
You looked into Tre’s eyes, an apology ready on your lips, but he was fuming. He was usually so calm and collected, firing people with an ice cold exterior. To see so much passion in him now…you were in deep shit. Without a paddle.
He reached across his desk and plucked out a red pen. “I want you to sit here and highlight all of the mistakes you made. And you better find them all,” he said. 
Your shaking hand reached out for the pen. He held it away. “All of them.”
He held out the pen once more and you took it. Tre sat down in his chair and motioned for you to proceed. You spied the chair on the other side of the desk, but you didn’t get the sense that you were allowed to get comfortable while you did this.
You licked your dry lips and leaned over slightly. Page by page, you hunted your mistakes with the red pen. You circled all of the typos you made. Good god, there were so many of them.
Tre sat like a silent specter. His disapproving eyes burned your back as you searched the document. At the end, you were appalled that you let so many slip through. The fuck was wrong with you? 
“Count them,” he said. 
Shit, shit. You couldn’t handle this fucking stress. “I am so sorry–”
“Count. Them.” You glanced at him. Besides the fire in his eyes, he seemed calm and a little disinterested. Like he was already bored of this shit and wanted you to hurry up.
You took a deep breath. He was only a man. You needed this stupid fucking job, but you will not be treated like this for much longer. Fuck his praise. And fuck him. No man, no job was worth this bullshit. You were going to find a nice quiet job somewhere. 
You counted the circles. Like bubbles of misery. “Twenty-four,” you said. At least your voice was strong, giving no hint to your frazzled nerves. Though, the more you thought about it, the less nervous you felt. You were so going to type up your two weeks notice tonight. Fuck this cheerless company. 
“Do you have any clue what it’s like trying to do my job but all I can focus on is your shitty ass mistakes? A toddler can type better than you,” he said. 
You gasped. Such a fucking asshole. “Everyone makes mistakes,” you pointed out. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t decoding international secrets. The occasional, okay this instance many, typos should not warrant a trip to the principal’s office. 
“I spend more time correcting your mistakes than trying to turn this company around. The least you can do is be a competent assistant. Your job is to assist,” he said. 
“All you can see is my mistakes instead of all the other shit that I do!” You fired back. Shit. His eyes narrowed and you swallowed, but you weren’t going to hold back. Whether you quit or got fired, you were saying goodbye to him so what the hell did anything matter? 
“I bend over backwards to do everything for you! Do you know how many times I’ve had to fix my nails as I run around here doing everything that pops into that meaty ass head of yours? Fix your computer, get you coffee, charge your fucking phone. I was hired to do assistant work, not become your personal maid. The least you can do is treat me with some fucking respect!” 
A weight lifted from your chest. You took deep, heaving breaths and felt lighter than you ever had. Even before taking this soul sucking job. 
“Bend over,” he said quietly.
“What?” You asked.
Tre stood to his full height. Not quite reaching six feet, but close enough. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and then slipped it off, revealing a black, long sleeved shirt. He rolled up the cuffs.
“I’m spank that tight ass you keep taunting me with for every mistake you have on that report,” he said.
Whoa, what? “Did you not hear what I said?” You asked. You watched as inches of his forearm were revealed. Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. But it was. Your mouth ran dry for entirely different reasons.
“Every word. Bend. Over. It’s a simple instruction to follow,” he said. The sleeves were at his elbow now. 
You barely thought about it. You bent over the desk, breasts pressing into the coolness of his desk. You felt him slide behind you. His thick hands rubbed over the fabric of your dress. He squeezed the fleshiness of your ass and you softly huffed. 
“Count out every mistake,” he said.
Smack! Red hot fire bloomed on your right ass cheek. “What the fuck,” you gasped.
“Count it, or we start over,” he said.
“One,” you immediately said. Was this really happening? 
Smack! Shit, it really was. “Two,” you gasped again, trying to fight off a moan. Your pussy ached with each subsequent hit. And he was not going easy on you. Each smack was severe, making you reach up on tiptoes to escape it. 
He wouldn’t let you. His hand found your ass in any way you had it displayed for him. No two smacks were similar. Some were harder than others. He never hit the same spot twice. Your ass was a mosaic of pain. Heat bloomed in tiny flickers. There was no way you were going to sit down after this.
“Fifteen,” you ground out. Your ass sought his hands, relished each smack he delivered. Your mind turned blissfully fuzzy. Nerves melting away until it was a tiny puddle at your feet. Fuck. You were so turned on and your panties were ruined. Soaked. 
Your clit throbbed in time with the flickering heat on your ass. And he continued to smack it. Your ass jiggled after each one. Your feet scrambled for purchase. 
“Twenty-two,” you cried out. Tears gathered in  your eyes. 
The final two smacks to your ass were the worst ones. He had been hiding that strength this entire time. He smacked you like he was truly punishing you for all of the mistakes on the report. You shuddered to think what he would do when he found out about the contract. 
He had maintained a professional demeanor throughout it all. He hadn’t spoken, except with soft grunts as the force of his smacks met your ass. He rubbed your booty and you moaned from the white hot pain. How the hell were you going to get home after this? 
Tre lowered the zipper on the back of your dress and you whimpered. What more could he fucking do right now?
The answer to that was swift as he pushed the edge of your skirt up and over your wide hips. He groaned with a soft, “fuck”, as he revealed your racy black panties. The lace was sheer with tiny flower designs woven into it. 
“I knew hiring you was a fucking mistake. Can’t even focus on shit around here,” he said. Though it seemed like he was talking to himself. 
“I thought you hated me,” you whispered. You wiped the wayward tears from your face. 
“You and these fucking outfits,” he answered back. He rolled your panties off of your damp pussy. He bent with it, so his breath trailed the back of your thighs and legs. He kissed his way back up. Plump lips placed soft kisses to your thighs and ass. Pain bloomed from his recent spanking and you moaned and moved away. He straightened and pulled your hips back. 
He smacked your bare ass this time. The wet sound was loud and lewd. You prayed that everyone was gone for the day. There was no way that these flimsy ass walls had good sound proofing. 
“Fuuuuuck,” you moaned out.
“That’s for being such a fuckin’ tease,” he said. His hands left you, going to his own fly as you heard the zipper and the frantic huffs as he hurried to free himself. 
“I wasn’t–”
“You know you were. Bending over every chance you got. Smiling every time I fuckin’ saw you. Wearing these outfits you know are not professional,” he said. 
He settled back behind you, groaning as you assumed he pumped himself. Fuck, you wanted to see. You looked back at him. Oh, that was a mistake. His head was thrown back, his arms moving jerkily as he pumped his thick length with his hand. 
Your pussy clenched as you watched him. You bit your lip at the sheer ecstasy on his face. You didn’t want to speak and interrupt him. While it was true that you dressed up a little more than your coworkers, these outfits were appropriate. You didn’t show unnecessary cleavage and your skirts were decent lengths.
Okay, maybe they went a little too high. But you spent most of your time behind a desk, who was really going to notice? It was better than the bland ass, off the rack looks these other girls wore. It was like they all shopped at the same, ugly ass store. Why should you be bland like them?
You were fucking gorgeous. And wearing pretty outfits made you feel beautiful and comfortable. You loved your heels. Why should you keep all that shit in the closet to make basic bitches feel nice? Fuck ‘em.
Tre rubbed the tip of his dick through your wet folds. You nearly buckled. Your knees collapsed and Tre roughly grabbed your hip to make you stand upright. 
You rested your cheek against the cold desk. The coolness helped cool off some of the heat burning through you. You moaned as his tip brushed against your clit. “Please,” you whispered.
“Please what?” He asked.
“Please, fuck me. I need it,” you moaned. God, it had been too fucking long since you got fucked. Not had sex. Got fucked. You had decent situationships in the past. Sure, you had fun. But to get fucked, you needed a certain type of man. 
He grunted as he shoved inside, stretching you completely. You cried out as he pulled back and shoved back in, getting his dick wetter from your juices alone. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned. 
“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He worked himself inside you, pushing into the warm, wet core of you. You were a vice grip on his dick. Welcoming him deeper and more easily with every glide. His fingers dug into your hips. 
“From now on, I’m checking over all of your work. If I catch more typos, that’s your ass,” he said.
How the hell could he expect you to listen when he was buried so deep inside of you, you were pretty sure with one more shove that he would hit your G-spot? You pathetically whimpered as his movements grew slippier. He slid in and out with more ease than before. 
His thrusts turned sharper. Each one shoved you against the desk. The hard plane of the desk shoved into your stomach. The pain was barely a thought. 
“Oh yes, yes,” you moaned.
“Takin’ this dick well,” he moaned. His thrusts increased. Barely giving you time to breathe in between each one. They were powerful and unrelenting. The desk rattled. His thighs pushed into yours, trapping you against the desk as he pounded into you. His hands around your hips were bruising. He had you slightly lifted, so your feet slightly dangled off of the ground. He supported you easily. 
The minimal praise from him made your heart soar and your pussy flutter. “Oh, you like that shit, don’t you?” 
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
“Tell me you like it then,” he said.
“I like it,” you said.
“Like you mean it,” he said and gave another savage thrust that made you see stars. 
The desk made an intrusive knocking sound in time with his thrusting. That’s how hard he was fucking you. 
“Oh shit, I’m cumming,” you moaned. Your belly flipped as your orgasm built and built.
“Let it go, then,” he said.
You cried and whimpered as you came. 
“Mhm, let it go. Let it go. Mhm, feeling all of that,” he cooed while you came, stars going off like bombs in your weak vision. Your head swam. Your vision winked in and out. You were bliss personified, cumming with a type of euphoria you didn’t know existed.
You squeezed his dick as you came. “Get that shit nice and creamy,” he said. 
He continued to pound into you, fucking any last remnants of your orgasm out of you. He was so hard and thick, sliding in and out and wrenching every little sound he could out of you. 
Wet smacking and the rattle of his thrusts filled the room with a harmony you wanted on repeat forever. You were creamy for him. Needy for him. Needy for the way that he could fuck you stupid and you thanked him for it.
You managed to look back at him. Again, his head was thrown back. The wide expanse of his neck pulsed with a thick vein you wanted to lick. Sweat dripped down into his shirt. His sleeves were still rolled up. He was power and strength. Thick in every sense of the word.
Broad shoulders, soft beard, and those glasses. Good god, you loved those glasses on him. That wide smile of his. His rich, midnight skin. You could spend hours licking every inch of him and it wouldn’t nearly be enough. 
He was lost in you, lost with his dick pumping into you. Watching how you were making him feel, another orgasm built. It climbed its way to the surface, whisking you away to the stars again. Shooting through the universe with nothing to hold you down. Nothing to keep you anchored. You just floated like stardust around the cosmos. 
“Oh fuck, please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying. You were mumbling and moaning, unaware of anything but his hands on your hips. His dick inside you. His balls slapping your clit. Your hand moved behind you seeking his body. His thrusts were too much.
You pushed against him. You didn’t want him to stop. Just for him to ease a bit. Your swollen clit was sensitive as hell. You weren’t sure if you had another orgasm in you. It was too soon and his punishing pace was going to literally fuck you stupid in a minute.
“Move that fuckin’ hand before I do,” he spat. 
“But…Sir…” He was fucking the air out of you. You couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, please.” 
True to his word, he grabbed the hand that you were trying to push him away with. Your left hand was twisted behind your back as he leaned forward, deepening his strokes.
It turned harsher, fucking you into the desk. He’d fuck you through it if he could. His moans turned desperate.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Take this nut.”
He groaned as he unleashed his climax inside of you. He filled you with his cum. His dick twitched and pulsed against your spongy walls as his cum was fucked into you. Still he moved, still he pounded into you like he was trying to prove something. 
His hips faltered as he sputtered the last of his cum. He buried himself to the hilt and a shiver ran through him. Your frantic breathing matched his as he slowly pulled out of you.
Fuck! You were fucking sore! A hundred baths wouldn’t soothe this shit. A moment later, his cum slipped out of you and you moaned. Well shit. No condom. Luckily, you were on the pill but still. You shouldn’t be so fucking horny that you didn’t talk about these things.
However, after getting fucked the way you just did, you’d happily accept his cum. Many times over. 
His cum leaked out of you, sliding down your pussy and legs. He groaned, leaned down, and spread your ass cheeks just to watch.
“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He pushed two fingers inside and you whimpered. He grunted one last time and removed his fingers. 
He grabbed a few tissues off of his desk and started to clean you up. You hissed when he hit a sensitive spot. He kissed your ass and legs as he cleaned up. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ beautiful,” he soothed as he cleaned.
You were a shaking mess. Your legs could not support you. He chuckled as he finished. He pulled his pants up first. You heard the slide of his belt buckle. Then, he pulled your panties up to cover your ass. Next, he lowered your skirt and fixed the zipper.
You were too weak to move from your spot. Too weak to stand up and say or do anything. You laid there in amazement. He helped you up and then steadied you while he lowered you into his chair. His chair.
He got to work, righting various knick knacks on his desk. He moved a tiny Christmas snow globe on his desk that you had brought him on the first day. He had raised his eyebrow at you, told you that you couldn’t bribe your way to a good start, and disappeared into his office. You thought he had thrown it away. You were too nervous to notice anything when you came into his office. Just his disapproving eyes and smug smirk. 
He moved the report back into the yellow envelope and closed it. He turned around and rested his ass against the desk. He tapped the file with his long fingers. “Be sure to correct this. We’ll go over it first thing in the morning.”
You glanced at him. “Yes, Sir,” you said with a hoarse voice. Fuck, your throat hurt. Everything hurt. He smirked as if he were reading your thoughts.
Yeah, a merry Christmas to you too, mu’fucker.
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Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed
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pupcuck · 4 months
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WASTE ME 3
ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader
tags. rape/non-con, painal, vomit like a lot of it, emotional abuse
a/n. so messy n rushed cuz i deleted it like 5 times n rewrote it over n over 😭 sorry it’s so flat from leon’s side but omg rbs n feedback appreciated :3 unedited so ignore typos please :3 leon is um. idk I think I changed his character drastically from the last parts but whatever!!! if u see me using shit from old fics ignore it ong
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
one / two
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“Can you put that away? I can’t concentrate.” Leon’s hands tighten their grip on the wheel, agitation creeps into his voice as you push the visor back into its place, then very promptly - when you think he’s not looking - pull it back down for the umpteenth time to give yourself a once over. “Cut it out.”
“Sorry.” You say quickly, as if the words have been festering in your mouth for a while now.
“Hey, you don’t have to come.” You do, you have to or I'm in deep shit. I bet a couple hundred on this. A date, that is. In all the years he’s known his friends, not once has he brought a date to their annual New Year’s party. “We’re not too far from your house, I can turn the car around.”
“No,” You shake your head, “No, I want to come with you.”
Leon isn’t sure if he wants you to come with him, if he’s ready for the barrage of questions and insults, namely from Claire. He’s taking you ‘cause there’s no one else, and to be quite frank, he considered hiring an escort before he even thought of you. The thing is, you’ve gotten too comfortable around him. Using pet names, babe and baby, so Leon tried to put some distance between the two of you. ‘Cause that made him queasy. You’re not dating. He’s thirty-seven years old, there’s no room in his life to date, you don’t date at that age. You fuck and get it over with.
“I don’t know what you’re nervous about,” Leon hums, he turns the radio down, “You look nice.” He expects you to fawn over him, throw yourself into his lap ‘cause he said you don’t look bad. That’s what you’re like, right? Doesn’t take a whole lot to get your tail wagging.
“Don’t say that.” The tone in which you speak is new, Leon hasn’t heard that before. Not been on the receiving end of any mood swings you’re bound to have. You have the emotional capacity of a toddler - no form of regulation over any of your thoughts and feelings, words slip past your lips like you’ve got the shits. Verbally speaking.
“What?” He asks, dumbfounded by the total switch.
“I don’t like it… I don’t like when you say things like that, it feels like you're lying.” And he’s not. That might be the first time he’s ever told you the truth so directly.
“I’m not, why would I lie about that?” Oh, so all of a sudden you’ve managed to grasp the concept of self respect? Talking back to him and shit. You know, Leon’s kinda proud of you. One of you had to break free from the binds of your swaddling cloth sooner or later. One of you has to cut ties, and it sure as hell won’t be him. It’s not that you’ve grown on him, instead you’ve torn open his flesh and slipped between the cracks in his ribs. Nestled into his chest cavity and made it your home. Or he’s just real lonely.
“I’m not stupid, Leon.”
“I never said you were stupid.”
“You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”
“What? No, I’m not. I’m looking straight ahead, ‘cause I’m driving?”
“Yeah? Well, keep looking at the road.” You huff through your nostrils, and it’s absurd, the shit you come up with. All it does is show your age. He’s fucking a kid, one that can’t even drink yet.
Leon does just that, neither of you utter a word for the remainder of the journey. When he gets out, you catch up with him, take his arm in yours as if it belongs to you, he’d rather you take his heart. So all the tenderness would be zapped from his system. Leon’s love comes in the shape of your casket, it comes with the engravings on your tombstone, empty and cadaverous. It’s not enough for you, you don’t know that, but he does. Leon’s a weeping sore of a man, the kind that won’t go away, not with over-the-counter pills, not the type that gets drained, not even antibiotics could help him. You’re licking his wounds and getting nothing from it, nothing but a mouthful of infectious pus.
“Leon— Oh.” The smile on Claire’s face drops as quick as it came, her forehead creases, and he’d like to tell her pretty girls shouldn’t frown so hard, they’ll get wrinkles, but she’d have his head. Tell him that it’s a natural progression, and that he’s looking a little rough these days, he should try keto. Leon has been on keto most his life if dick counts as meat.
He wraps an arm around your shoulder, draws you closer, smiling with all his teeth to show Claire that he really likes you when he really doesn’t. Well, he does, it’s just complicated. “Claire.” Leon greets with a nod of his head, he introduces you despite the uneasiness, then guides you to sit on an unoccupied seat beside Rebecca, his hand on your lower back.
From the corner of his eye, Leon watches you shift in your seat as Claire asks him if this is a thing now - cherry picking. If he’s going through a midlife crisis, and that she knows a guy who knows a girl who knows a good shrink, one that keeps real quiet. Then their conversation gets derailed and she begins to talk about Simone de Beauvoir, wrote a book called The Second Sex apparently, Claire reveres it, and Leon is confused on how they got to here.
Hunnigan argues that The Second Sex others women of colour very brashly, and it’s not quite argumentative because Hunnigan talks factually, like everything she says is right, and it usually is. It’s impressive how often she teeters on a condescending edge. She says Claire should read more on intersectionality, and Claire nods, bats her lashes ‘cause she listens to pretty ladies well. The only intersection Leon knows of is a road junction— he wonders how you’re doing with Rebecca, so he excuses himself from the conversation. Hunnigan tells him that he wasn’t included in the first place.
When he catches sight of you, you’re sitting alone, picking at whatever piece of food you can get, leg bouncing so hard the table does too. Chris grabs his arm and drags his arm towards Jill, and then it’s Sherry, who is always a joy, and then Ashley, and her dad who Leon, for some reason, thought was in a wheelchair. He gets to you a full forty minutes later.
“Woah, slow down, are you okay?” Leon takes your wrist in his, wonders how to word this correctly, without you taking any offence. “You’re eating a lot.” Shit. Not the best opener.
“I am not.” There’s a droplet of sweat trickling down the column of your neck, he wipes it with his thumb. “Am I? Did you notice? Oh my gosh, you so did. Did anyone else notice? Why did you take so long? I didn’t know what to do, Leon. Was I supposed to say anything? Was I meant to come with you?”
“Listen, calm down, god, no— just, I told you to sit here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” You nod, tremors making your hands unsteady as you take his. “I think I should go.”
“What?” Leon’s face twists, “I gotta stay, Sherry wants me to stay, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
You bristle at this, shoulders slumping, “No, I don’t need you to drop me, I can just get a cab back, I just feel a little out of place, Leon. Like, I know no one even knows my name, but I just feel like they’re all looking at me and talking about me and I feel so stupid.”
He gets it, truly. “You should stay.” Leon’s fingers intertwine with yours, though it’s nothing gentle, it’s to keep you under lock and key. A threat of sorts.
“Leon, I don’t really, like, I’m just sitting here eating on my own, I look like a freak.” You said it, not him.
“You could try to engage, y’know?” And it’s so hypocritical for him to say, ‘cause Leon needs a drink or five before he can even stomach talking to the older Redfield. Not that Chris is a bad guy, he’s just so intensely stupid sometimes.
“Leon,” You take your hand back, and it’s the first time you’ve denied him of anything, “I don’t think they really care if I’m here or not, I’m going home.” It’s not a question, not Leon, may I go home now, pretty please? It’s an assertion, you’re firm in your wants, and he hates it. You’re stepping out of line.
So Leon does what he does best, he fucks it up. Back to square one with your blood caked beneath his fingernails and your tears salty on his tongue. ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what you want, it hasn’t mattered before so why would it matter now? He cradles the back of your head when it knocks against the bathroom stall, tips it forward so he can kiss you sweetly. And you’re a sucker for it, hands fisting at the fabric of his dress shirt like a baby. When you’re bare, he kneels down, spreads you apart, and you’re so wet there’s slick dripping down your ass crack. Embarrassing how fast you get it on for him, and Leon’s here with a semi you could barely class as a semi. Though that’s more of a Leon problem.
The nip to your clit makes you gasp, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he likes that. Leon presses his nose to it, laps at the slick to clean you up, but he’s only getting you messier. He spreads your ass to lick deeper into your hole, then his hand leaves so his middle and forefinger can keep your cushioned lips open, teeth scraping over your slippery folds. Leon’s mouth is moving on autopilot, his brain is working overtime, what’s he gonna do? How can he make you stay? Right, right, right, that’s gotta be it. When Leon pulls away with a pop! you whine, he’s always kind enough to let you cum. Not this time.
“Hold on, kid,” Leon murmurs, spins you around and you brace yourself against the walls of the cubicle automatically. They seem paper thin. He keeps a hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt with a clink as he lowers his jeans to slip out his cock that hardens only at the thought of taking you this way. You flail when he pushes into your tighter hole. The puffy rim is wet with your arousal, not wet enough to take cock. He wasn’t even merciful enough to spit on it.
“No, no, oh god, Leon, no, I’m gonna die, Leon, you’ll kill me.” Your bones crack out of place with how hard you struggle against him, limbs angled oddly, and he hates it. No doesn’t sound right coming from you. It’s a tough one, breaching your asshole, getting past the dryness.
You clench so hard, try to push him out, he kisses the nape of your neck, the tackiness of sweat salty on his lips. “Stop runnin’ from it, I’ve got you.”
“Please— Please, please, Leon,” Your cheek is squashed against the cubicle door, nails scratching at it till they crack and split. He reaches round to cover your mouth, you’re getting too loud. There’s snot and tears and spit covering his palm, but it’s alright. Worth it.
“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon do it for me. You can do it for me, can’t you? You’re not a baby.” Leon’s teeth tug on your earlobe, he manages to bury himself to the hilt in your ass. A miracle really, ‘cause he can barely move an inch back or forth.
You’re gasping for breath, knees buckling despite him supporting your weight. The pain must be bad, he knows what it’s like, that sickeningly raw pain. Feels like it’s in your guts, stirring up all the acid, tangling your intestines. But he got over it, and you got over it once upon a time. So you can do it, he knows you can.
For a minute, he thinks you stop breathing, you slump over and he struggles to hold you up, then he gets ahold of you. You’re dry heaving, retching as you claw at the cubicle, he draws his hips back and you whimper brokenly into his palm. There’s an abundance of resistance, but Leon’s strong enough to push past it, his strokes are shallow - can’t find it in himself to fuck you hard and deep. Well, Leon would, but it’s too much effort.
There’s no letting up, you’re stubborn today, his free hand reaches round to tweak your nipple, then it trails down your body, cups your cunt and parts your fold to thumb your swollen clit. It does little to lessen the ache, the burn, but Leon hopes you’ll loosen up. “Hey, you got it, jus’ focus on my fingers, okay?”
“Okay, Leon,” You get out through ragged breaths, chest rising up and down unevenly as you try to regain some sort of consciousness, he's raped you into delirium. Leon grits his teeth, that word is harsh on his ears still. “Okay… I’ll try, I’ll try… I’m trying—“
“I know you are,” Leon talks you through it, talks you through rape unlike the first time, so that must mean something, give him some kind of credit. “I know it hurts, it’ll get better, yeah? I promise.”
“I can’t breathe— Leon, I can’t-“ Your hands press down on your stomach, then your chest, heart beating wildly, to the point where he thinks he can hear it.
“You can breathe, ‘cause you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” He asks, “Remember what you said to me? You said I could do this.”
“I know… I know, Leon, I’m really sorry— God, it hurts so bad.” Another sob is muffled into his wet palm.
“I know, but you said you would do it for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Leon, I’m sorry, I did— I did.” You shiver, head jerking to the side as he pulls back, then slams his hips back into you - so hard your knees knock against the cubicle. The pressure on your clit alleviates nothing it seems, even when he presses a little harder, you continue to kick and squirm.
“Just a little more, yeah?” Leon tells you, he kisses your shoulder for good measure, starts up a rhythmic pace that rewards him with a squeaky yelp each time he thrusts. You’re uncomfortably tight, and it’s pretty dry, but Leon makes do, most nights his fist is drier.
Sweat prickles at your delicate skin, and your body goes rigid when he cums, he jams himself so far into you Leon fears he might have trouble pulling out. Dick might come off clean. He smooths a hand down your spine, “You’re okay.” Leon says, and it’s more of an order than anything else.
He takes your clothes from where they’re hung on the single hook, he might be a serial rapist, but he’s a gentleman. Serial might be a stretch, Leon’s not quite at that point yet, and he doesn’t intend to be. But he might be your serial rapist, ‘cause it’s happened multiple times and all.
Your gait is off, more so than last time, taking shuddering breaths as you clutch at his arm. Leon doesn’t know what to say, he leads you out the back, ‘cause Claire will look him in the eye and know what he’s done. Step by step, you wobble towards the door to the passenger seat, crumpling against it as you fumble with the handle.
“Let me do it,” Leon grows impatient, steps forward, you jump out of your skin, snapping out of your haze as you manage to open the door. Your teeth are chattering, and you’re clammy, ribs rattling noisily when you cough. He wonders if he’s really done it now, fucked over his chance with you of all people.
Every time there’s a bump in the road, you wince visibly, nails digging into the leather of his seat to try and conceal any noise leakage. “Leon?”
He stops at a red light, turns to you in surprise, didn’t think you were capable of speaking right now. “Yeah?”
“Do you think she’s cute? The one who dresses like Jackie O?” Of course it’s some insecure shit like that, the first thing you say to break the silence post-rape is a question about whether or not he likes a girl.
“Ashley’s pretty.” Leon answers, face that launched a thousand ships - or a thousand Molotov cocktails, right at him actually, by the hands of religious zealots. He thinks that if it weren’t for a lot of things, they could’ve worked out, and maybe he wouldn’t have resorted to getting drunk and raping college kids in alleys.
“Leon, I think I’m gonna throw up.” Your voice is low, shaky, rolling down the window and letting the chill hit your warm face.
“I can pull over.” Leon offers, he can’t bother to go through with dry cleaning. Rather it come out on the side of the road than his carpets.
“No, never mind, I’m fine.” You go quiet again, then, “What about the big guy, do you like him?”
“What?” He looks like he’s constipated, the idea of Chris and him is an interesting one that’s never crossed his mind. Sure, he’s objectively attractive, but he’s so hardheaded it pisses Leon off. “No, well, yeah, I like him ‘cause he’s my friend.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.” You lie, and he knows you’re lying, because you’re you, and he knows you. Predictable little thing. “Okay, so, what about the girl you were talking to at the beginning when we came in. Ponytail, red jacket.”
“God, no, Claire’s just my friend.”
“Yeah, I know, Leon. I’m asking if, like, you like her. As a friend. I just want to know more about you.” Liar, he indulges you anyway. He owes you one, and maybe money for hospital bills.
“She’s my best friend,” Leon claims, she might not think of him that way, but Leon certainly thinks of Claire that way. “Of course I like her, I love her.”
“Then who was the lady with glasses? The tall one?” You peer at him hesitantly, the dark obscures much of your face from him, but he sees your wide eyes.
“Hunnigan? Yeah, she’s hot, I don’t want her though.” Too brash, his tongue slipped. It’s more that she doesn’t want him. Leon wouldn’t tell you that though. He’s patient for you, lets you ask questions that reek of insecurity before he’s pulling up on his drive.
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“I don’t want to take them off,” You’re quick to stop his wandering hands, eyes going foggy and faraway when he tries to get you out of your underwear, “Please, Leon.” There’s blood smeared on the backs of your thighs that Leon pretends not to notice.
And because he’s so kind, and reeling with guilt from the whole public bathroom sodomy situation, Leon abides. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, I’ll just get you off.” You insist, squeezing his half-hearted boner, thumbing the tip, cupping his balls, all the stuff he’s taught you to do. He might not get it up, ‘cause he’s had a drink, and ‘cause he’s still spent from earlier. Rape is no joke, shit takes a lot of effort, fucking a dry hole is not as pleasing as bootcamp made it seem.
Your mouth is warm on his cock, you lick along the vein on his underside, kiss the tip sweetly like you love him - it’s not like ‘cause you do love him. The head rests weighty on your tongue, you take half of him easily. You’re not the best at sucking dick, so he doesn’t expect much from you, expectations already reduced to zero, but Leon tilts his head back with a groan when you begin to bob your head. Look at that, you’ve gotten better.
Really, he should’ve known, seen all the signs. The tell-tale bulge in your throat, something foreign, not his dick ‘cause shits not the big. You felt sick in the car, he’d seen you gag over the toilet bowl after he came inside you. Leon’s reflexes are good, but not good enough. When you finally make it to the balls, eyes wet with unshed tears as he pushes your limits, nose in his crotch— you go to raise your head, he makes the mistake of pushing you back down. Biggest mistake of his life. And Leon has made a lot of mistakes.
He’s had monster after monster spew their god knows what on him. Been knee-deep in sewers, he’s been pissed on by military men for fuck’s sake. Somehow, this tops it off. You sicking up hors d'oeuvres on his lap. Vomit on his dick is the worst feeling Leon’s felt in quite a while. He’d rather break his ribs again and again and again and again. Over and over. Have them caved in by a metal pipe.
You lurch backwards, vomit caked around your mouth, coating his cock, dripping down your chin. God, he might add to the mess, but Leon’s got a strong enough stomach to hold it. Happy New Year! God Bless America. Isn’t this just the dream?
“Oh my god,” You gasp, wipe at your mouth drearily with your bare arm, breathing picking up as you stagger away from him, “God, no, no, no.”
He blinks at you, and you stare at him shell-shocked. Leon inhales, counts to ten, he's been through worse. He has. Honest. What’s a little puke on his cock going to do?
“I’m sorry, Leon, I’m so sorry, oh my gosh, Leon, I’m so sorry, what do I do?” You fumble and use his blanket to wipe him clean, doing a shit job as he anticipated. “I can do it, I can do it, I can get you off, I’m sorry, please, let me make it up to you, Leon.” Then you’re clocking in for your shift, sloppy and hurried all at once as you suck him off, only for a moment- then a wave of nausea hits and a second bout of puke is spewed on his lap, waterlogging his sheets as it trickles down his thighs. Fuck, it’s fucking gross. Made the place into a biohazard.
“Hey, c’mon—“
“No, no, Leon,” You retch, spit bubbling in the back of your throat as you shake your head in wild refusal, “I can do it, please, please,” He feels you swallow around him, tight little throat that’s only got space for vomit and not his cock, ‘cause it’s pushed out of your mouth as you gag and drip liquified party food. Your head pops back up, dabbing at the stickiness that covers the bottom half of your face to no avail.
“Kid.” Leon grabs you by your hair, straightens you up so you’re facing him, drool pooling in your mouth, tongue heavy as you’re racked with full body shivers to warn you of more. This time you make it to the bathroom, courtesy of Leon, there’s vomit tracked down his hall, on the rug Sherry bought him to brighten up his boring bedroom. “Let it all out,” He’s trying his best to be comforting, rubbing your back as your head hangs limp in the toilet bowl till there’s nothing but bile and spit.
Leon lets you shower first, ‘cause y’know, he loves sitting around soaked in barf. Really lets it marinate. He watches your figure through the foggy glass, barely able to keep yourself up, leaning against the wall when you have to wash anything from the waist below. God, he fucked you up. Maybe the vomit bath is more than deserved. He feels it crust over on his dick and itches.
“Are you okay now?” Leon mumbles, his body takes on your curled up shape, knows you could use the comfort.
The mattress in his room has been stripped bare, sheets put on a double spin in the washing machine. For now, the two of you lay close in the guest room that’s been unused since he moved in. “I’m okay.” You whisper, placing your hand over his when he wraps his arm around you. He thinks you’ve fallen asleep going by how still you are. “Leon?”
He wonders if it’s worth pretending to be asleep, can’t lie that he forgives you for that, then any ounce of initial hostility ebbs away and he feels white, hot guilt. “Yeah?”
“Before I met you, I would think of all this stupid shit, like I wanted to get ran over so people would care about me, or they’d feel bad for me, and then I stopped thinkin’ like that when we started dating.” You’re not dating him. Leon’s unsure on how to make that explicitly clear. “But, then, I started thinking like that again. ‘Cause I thought I wanted you to rape me ‘cause I thought you liked me, I wouldn’t mind if you liked me, I would let you do anything to me. I thought that you’d feel bad and take care of me after but you don’t, you just act like it didn’t happen.”
Leon closes his eyes, lashes fluttering on the skin of your back, the light tickle is slight enough as to not alarm you. He listens to you, but he doesn’t know what to think, what to say, it’s a lot.
“I only want you to rape me if you like me, but you hate me.” And that’s so far from the truth, Leon doesn’t hate you, and he doesn’t love you, but he does want you. For reasons he can’t explain himself. “I just, I don’t want you to rape me ‘cause you hate me, I want you to hold my hand after and sometimes I want you to kiss me.”
“So if I start liking you, I can do it?” Grown fucking man and he can’t say rape out loud. Leon wonders why it comes so naturally to you, how you can talk so openly about topics he can’t stomach despite being the perpetrator of said topic.
“Yeah, I just want you to like me, Leon.” You don’t beg, it’s pleading, thumb stroking over his knuckles.
“I’ll try.” Leon gives his oath, he’s a bad person he thinks. Not ‘cause of his mom, not ‘cause of dad, not ‘cause of all the shit back in Raccoon City, not ‘cause of bootcamp— none of it. It’s ’cause he feels like it, and he does it to you on purpose, and Leon knows that, but he can’t fix it. “I’ll try.” He repeats to himself, knowing very well his attempt will fall flat.
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vamph00n · 17 days
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idea, but idk if you take ideas
reader gets turned on by hoon’s vampire like features, and convinces him to rp as one while they’re fucking
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mdni
tags: femreader, vampire kink, mentions of the twilight movies, hoon is jealous obv.
*not proofread will do later
wc: 1,2k
smut tags under the cut
i added my own lil spin on it annonie~ mainly cause i’ve been rewatching twilight rndjsoskdndknsla
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smut tags: biting kink, implications of sex, dirty talk, chest groping, etc
he doesn’t know how many times you watched those stupid twilight movies. all he knew is that you fawned over some guy in those films with the most victorian name ever. he wasn’t your type and sunghoon was sure of it, why would he be your type when he; your boyfriend, was right there? nah, he didn’t like that you thought of any other men than him. even if he was fictional.
you had all the books too, along with whatever smutty literature he saw on that well dusted shelf in your house. you lived in those dirty fantasies when he was right there. the way you’d kick your feet and giggle while watching those movies. it really pissed him off, it was all imaginary, pretend. it was stupid for him to be so jealous, but god there was one thing he hated the most about your little hyper fixation…
well, the thing is sunghoon doesn’t want to come off as a pissy bitch. he’ll happily go along with whatever endeavors you put him through. it’s just when you make him watch the same few movies with you again, he felt his ego shrink every passing second spent staring at robert pattinson play a vampire. especially when your comments consisted of comparisons between him and edward whats-his-face’s character.
“look at him hoon, he’s like all sparkly in the sun, n’ he has like this mad gaze.” Your eyes pan over to your boyfriend, watching him stare at the tv blankly, in a boredom induced daze.
he’s tuning out what you’re saying, because well, it makes him feel somewhat inadequate. it’s so rare for him to feel this way. he’s so self assured, maybe even a little egotistical sometimes. how can he not be? you yourself loaded up his little brain with compliments and ideas. saying how he’s the man of your fucking dreams, or the way your body contorted in different ways, becoming helpless when he did so little as touching you. hell yeah, you made him feel so damn special.
with his brows furrowed at the screen, he sees your odd stare from the corner of his eye. why do anything to reassure you of what you were thinking in that moment? he knows you, he can practically read your mind. before diverting your attention back to the screen a scoff leaves your mouth. call him petty or whatever you want, he just wants to get through watching this god forsaken movie for the millionth time without his brain frying.
sunghoon is so ridged. his arms are crossed, and he’s like, all stiff. whatever, you can deal with it. although it’s frustrating that he’s so oblivious.
you find yourself scooting closer, leaning and commenting on the movie. with each sentence you say, you can feel his dreary attitude loom over. it’s given, you’ve forced him to death watch your silly little movies to the point where he himself can recite each word.
“he’s like, —i don’t know. like can you imagine? getting puncture wounds, and hickeys at the same—“
that’s where sunghoon draws the line.
“can you shut up?”
dang. he was livid. you have right to your own thoughts but to think like that? when he’s right there? when he can well rip off your panties and fuck you the way this guy can’t because it’s all speculative? all you had to do was let him, just ask and he’ll deliver. you know it.
but then again, you boyfriend is as dense as concrete and dumb as bricks sometimes. guess you’d have to give him a nudge, a hint too probably.
“i mean, can you imagine what’s it like to be a vampire?”
you’ve practically told him what you wanted, and he still has that red cloudy look of jealousy with somewhat of a frown on his face and his overgrown bangs shading his eyes. if he wasn’t upset, you’d tell him how cute he looks right now. how dumb he is, is also what you’d tell him. then again you weren’t exactly being straightforward.
with your question slipping in one ear and out the other, he just tunes you out. yeah it’s pathetic he feels so strongly about something so meaningless, could he help it though? he was insane about you.
your eyes darken as you grab the remote, and thank goodness you turned it off. sunghoon finds you sliding on of your legs over his thighs as you take a seat. you gaze into his eyes, he looks annoyed. he’s suppressing the urge to just fuck the stupid crush you had on that twilight vampire out of you. it makes you laugh at how blind he is. nevermind, you probably had to spell it out for him.
“you can do that. you can bite me here, and here-“
you drag your two fingers indicating where he could, and his breath hitches. it’s like all his senses are tingly, and piercing. his ears are ringing, with the rush of adrenaline and the newfound excitement he had. just hearing you describe what you wanted him to do.
you saw his jaw hang slack, as you merely told him what you wanted. tracing your fingers down your abdomen and to your thighs, you tap on the fleshy inner part.
“you can bite here too.”
his hands grab your hips, he gets it now. he slides a hand up your shirt holding your chest. your mind drives him crazy. his touch sends shivers down your spine.
“here too?” he asks asks, so politely.
it makes you heat up, and become more wet than your imagination allowed. when you thought of him like the cold blooded undead he resembled so much, it made you infatuated with the idea of it. the idea of him. how could he not see it? when you drew comparisons that surely pointed towards his own features that you loved so much.
his pretty skin glows in the dim light of your living room unlike of that portrayed in the movie. he’s real, and right here.
“didn’t you ever think, perhaps..” you say it so sweetly as you feel his hand roam around your body.
before you can finish your sentence, your breath is cut short. your back is now against the cushions of the couch, and his arms trap you beneath him. sunghoon wonders how he got so lucky, to have someone like you to show him all the ways he can make you wet. your so sick and twisted, not for your little fantasy you wanted him to indulge in, but the fact you didn’t just tell him straight up. he ought to punish you.
he’ll let it slide though. partially because he feels his cock twitch restrained by his pants, and because he’s so willing to do what you ask of him. he knows this is the just the beginning, and honestly he’ll have fun woh it. so with his lips ghosting your neck, and his hot breath up against your ear he asks you a question.
“tell me what else you want me to do as your vampire. sweetheart”
copyright @vamph00n 2024
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