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#I WILL create an entire relationship in my head
rootbeerworshiper · 2 days
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make it up
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your situationship gets in the way of your fun at a pool party, especially when it’s with a flirt who you leave no other choice but to make it up to you.
warnings: smut..don’t let the cute cover fool you lol, sub!chris, lowkey both him and the reader are toxic, fem!receiving, face sitting, missionary, unprotected sex, i think that’s all
a/n: this was a struggle to write and i think it took years off my life but that’s okay!!
4.2k words
love, sienna <3
it was practically impossible for you to focus on anything other than the way that Chris looked, standing there with his chest exposed and his swimsuit hugging him in ways that make you woozy. you aren’t official, so it takes everything within you to not go and let the world know he’s yours, but he is.
you and Chris both lack a sense of commitment to romantic relationships, it’s what makes your situation so much easier to navigate. there’s a level of trust within your dynamic because you both want the same thing out of it. there’s also spoken rule of not seeing anyone else, a rule you’ve both obliged to for the past few months.
a pool party isn’t necessarily something you were yearning for, but Chris insisted that you come along with him, and you weren’t one to say no to him very often.
the sun is beating down on the comically large backyard, your scalp feeling hot and a few sweat beads trickle down your neck as you pour yourself a drink at some pop up table.
this wasn’t entirely… your crowd, but you do have a few people you’re somewhat friends with which you are more than thankful for as you create small talk near the table.
Chris has put his focus on playing volleyball in the pool with a bunch of his random friends, his wet hair falling on his forehead before he runs his hand through it so he can see the net better.
you mindlessly talk to the people around you before very quickly growing bored with the effort-fuelled conversations about the weather and whatever new couple just broke up.
it feels a bit un natural to be standing around in two small pieces of fabric that are vibrant against your skin while being completely above water. so you set your random plastic cup down and walk towards the clear splashing water that’s surrounded by concrete walls.
you opt to sit along the edge, keeping a close eye on Chris who couldn’t help but notice your presence immediately.
maybe the reason you work so well with him is because you’ve known him for such a long amount of time. he was your lab partner in junior year chemistry and as annoying as you may have found him at first, he was funny, and it was his goal to be constantly putting a smile on your face.
it wasn’t long after until he was putting more than just a smile on your face—and god was he addicting.
you let your feet sway in the slightly cold water while you rely on your wrists to keep you upright, in full view of the blazing sun.
if you weren’t going to be having a blast the least you could do is create a few tan lines.
the boy across from you tries his best to stay focused on the game, but he can’t help but pay attention to the incredibly flattering swimsuit that rests on your body as your skin glistens in the heat. your thighs squished together on the cement outline of the pool with small droplets of water dripping down them has him insanely distracted to say the least.
“cmon Chris focus up!” a plea can be heard from some random guy who stands next to him, furthest from you but still very aware as to where Chris’ head is at.
everywhere but the game.
he shakes his head, leaving you a small, playful smirk before looking back to the poorly set up net towards his eager opponents.
you watch for a while, eyes fixated on the way his tongue darts out of his mouth to coat his lips. his full focus on the same is weirdly attractive.
his back muscles are outlined perfectly in the sun. you want nothing more than to have your hands scratching helplessly over them with your nails.
soon enough the ‘game’ comes to a close, bringing your head back to reality.
Chris swims over, situating himself between your legs and placing his cold wet hands on the base of your knees. “hi” he looks up at you, blue irises highlighted in the immersive light pouring down on him.
you laugh slightly, wrapping your bare legs around his smooth back. “hi pretty boy did you win?”
“were you not watching?” he inquires, wiping stray water droplets off of his freckled face. he leans in slightly closer as if he’s telling you a secret. “definitely lost but they’re too drunk and they fully believe that i won so i’ll let them believe what they want”
another small laugh escapes your lips when the mentions of the sport remind you of a memory. “do you remember third period gym class when i accidentally served a volleyball directly at your face?”
he rolls his eyes playfully in response, a bead of water dripping down the side of his neck. “course i do, you apologized for like a week straight”
“not my fault you were walking around the halls with a black eye! i felt bad” you defend yourself passionately.
“well it actually was your fault but” Chris just schooches you slightly closer to him. hands pulling you in by your lower back so that your plush thighs make contact with his sides. “it was cute when you felt all bad and shit”
you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, fingers delicately running through the hair sprawled on the back of his head. “how much longer do we have to stay?”
“you act like a pool party is a chore” he laughs softly. “give it another half hour and then we can get ready to leave”
before you can say anything in reply you hear a familiar voice call out your name. “hey come over here! we’re shotgunning right now”
you don’t entirely want to go, your time would be much better spent with the boy in between your legs but he’s not your boyfriend, and it would feel wrong to cancel on people wanting to do something with you for him. even if just looking at his face is more than enough to keep you occupied. “i guess this is my sign to go socialize”
he fake frowns dramatically, slowly guiding his fingers up your legs until they make contact with your upper thighs. “okay lover boy i have to get up” you mutter out, fighting every urge to close the space and bring his lips to yours.
most people know you have something with Chris, they just aren’t entirely sure what. the two of you flirt constantly and tend to stick by each others sides at gatherings but usually pda is off the table for your own sanity.
today you were just a lot more needy for any form of contact with him, and you can’t be bothered at this very moment to hide from the world.
it is however annoying to constantly be answering questions about you relationship status. most of the time it’s easier to have them completely oblivious rather than curious.
so you stand up, gently taking his hands off of you before placing your feet on the cement and walking over to the girls who are standing in a patch of grass with drinks in hand—not without feeling Chris’ eyes glued to your back.
“hey you ready?” a girl asks, dark brown braids draping over her back as she hands you a colourful can.
“yeah i am, someone have a coin for me?” you ask, reaching over for the random girl that hands you the circular copper coin.
the group does a countdown and after the number one you immediately crack open the can and tilt your head back, allowing the fruity liquid to stream down your throat.
after a moment of relentlessly swallowing, you release the tin from you lips and crush it while wiping the drink off your lips.
a girl beside you practically spills her drink everywhere and you laugh with her momentarily, enjoying the small moment. this is before something catches your eye.
Chris at the back of the pool with a girl standing uncomfortably close beside him. it’s obvious to everyone around him that her intentions are anything but innocent.
people flirt with Chris all the time, he’s hot. but the way she’s practically straddling him in the chlorine water and the fact that he’s done nothing to deny her advances? you’re sick.
“hey isn’t that your boyfriend?” a random girl across from you asks, going to the table to grab a slice of water melon and handing one to you. assumingely feeling bad for you.
you shake your head, taking a bite of the flavour fruit before replying. “not… technically. but he knows better than to pull some shit like that in front of me”
she laughs softly, rubbing your arm sympathetically. all you can do is hope it’s not pity.
“what’s your name again?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the heart wrenching sight across the still water that fills the pool. Chris hand now on the girls lower back as she talks to him about god knows what.
“maria” she replies, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen from her tote bag that rests on a random pool lounger. “and you?”
your name lingers on the tip of your tongue as you refocus your gaze onto your man who’s sitting there with a smug smirk on his face. he’s clearly amused at the girl who puts in full effort to get him interested in him.
“y/n” a fake smile forms on your face before you begin to walk towards the pool. “please excuse me while i go deal with that fucking idiot” you spit out, earning a gentle laugh in reply.
“you’re too hot to let a man like that walk over you” she adds as your back now faces her.
it’s clearly bothering you and you can’t sit back and do nothing anymore. someone clearly needs to learn a lesson.
your feet walk before your mind can even fully comprehend what’s happening. it’s un deniable that you’re in a hurry to get Chris the fuck out of that pool and your body language speaks for itself.
he sees you walking over, detaching his hands from the girl who know holds a clueless expression on her pretty little face.
“hate to break up your fun but we’re going, Chris” you mutter out, looking down at the pair as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
the girl immediately gives you a nasty look in return. “i’m sorry who are you?”
you roll your eyes, Chris now walking towards the pool ladder as you continue the petty conversation. “i’m his girlfriend”
she laughs. “really? because he told me you guys are just friends. might wanna sort that out before you get all possessive over someone who doesn’t feel the same”
there’s no point of explaining yourself to this random girl who is in full belief that she’s in the right. besides, you’re more mad at him than you are at her.
————————————————————————
“do you beg for your other friends like this?” you question, finger placing light pressure over the familiar patterned swim shorts. you’re standing over him, knees brushing against the mattressinserting your complete control in the dynamic.
it’s slightly later now. a golden hue shooting its vibrant light through the bedroom window as a helpless boy lays below you, propped up by his elbows so as to still look up at you.
he breaths out, shutting his eyes closed as if to somehow focus on anything other than the pads of your fingers and the touches they’re applying to him. “fuck no”
you let out a soft, menacing laugh at his innocence. it really is admirable how effortlessly you’re able to get him like this, his hips squirming restlessly against the soft blankets that rest below him.
as much as you’d love to be completely angry with him, it’s much more enjoyable to be petty. and besides, he’s got lots to make up for.
you hover over him, your hands placed next to his hips while your head dips down to his exposed neck. there’s remnants of marks you’ve left behind recently, something that girl from the pool consciously chose to look past. “you like it when i mark you up?” you whisper into his ear, chills immediately trickling down his spine while blood rushes to his growing length.
he just nods pathetically. there really is no point in arguing with you, he knows you’re right. it’s hilarious how he portrays himself to the world, like he’s some big tough guy who gets all the girls. last time you checked tough guys aren’t whimpering pet names in your ear while you tease them, maybe you’re wrong.
you take your time. getting lost in placing small kisses along his jaw, making a point to leave behind a noise with each one. it’s obvious he’s trying to hold back, it’s not easy for him to be like this but he knows he cums the best under your touch.
“who the fuck do you think you are pulling that shit in front of me? do you know how embarrassing that is?” you spit out, hands placed on your knees as they try desperately to relieve the tension that formed in your arms.
he just rolls his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel while a stupid smug smirk pulls at his pink lips. “it’s getting really old when you do this shit. you only act like you’re in love with me when you’re jealous”
“in love with you? wow that’s rich. maybe i just didn’t wanna watch you suck face with some random girl in a musty ass pool” you argue. deep down he’s probably right in what he’s saying. you aren’t very good at showing emotions towards him until he shows interest in anyone that’s not you.
“please” he whines as your mouth creates suction on his collarbone, notably leaving more marks to add to his scattered collection.
his words are in vast contrast to those he was spewing on the car ride home, much less bratty.
you smile into his chest, hands running up his sides only causing more squirms in response. “please what? cmon be a good boy and use your words for me”
the way his chest rises and falls at his neediness already has you feeling the need to close your own thighs together. you need friction more than anything and your body is begging you for it.
“just touch me please, i need it” his voice practically shakes through the words. regardless of how annoyed you are with him, you immediately do as he says, palming through the thin damp fabric.
“so worked up for me already Chris, you like when im on top of you like this don’t you?” you coo into his ear as your hand moves menacingly across his length. he’s already completely hard under your touch and the combination of your words almost makes it painful how badly he wants you. “but i’m not sure you deserve to cum after the shit you pulled earlier”
his hips buck up slightly as the palm of your hands lifts from his sensitivity. “mmh how- how can i make it up to you?”
you hum, as if deep in thought. in reality you already know exactly how you want this to go, he just needs to be the unsuspecting pawn in your evil game of chess. “i don’t know…. im pretty mad at you baby”
“i’ll do anything, please i need you”
his consistent begging is like music to your ears and the last thing you want to do is press pause. your mind wanders when you think about all the things he could provide you in order to make up for his foolish mistake.
his hands.., his thighs—you even consider giving in right away and allowing him to have sex with you right here and now. but it wouldn’t be as fun to give him what he wants right away, and his toxic little mouth should really get put to better use.
you speak low, only furthering the anticipation for what he needs most right now. “i think you need to be shut up. that mouth of yours is mine yeah?” you run your finger over his lip, pulling his bottom lip down lightly until he replies to your question with another eager nod.
your lips meet with his, your tongue immediately attaining dominance within his mouth before you bite down gently on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the boy.
the strings of your bathing suit are the only thing holding you back from the pleasure you’re aching for. “Chris baby can you help me?” you bring his fingers to your hips so as to guide him to where you need help.
he gets to work right away, untying the strings and immediately causing the bathing suit to slip off of your body to leave you exposed in his line of sight. “you’re so beautiful” his voice leaves behind an innocent compliment.
your lips turn into a smile at his praise as you pick of the wet fabric that lies beneath you, tossing it to the floor that resides besides the bed. “thank you” your fingers trail up his bare chest as your legs straddle him. you make point of sitting down just slightly on his dick, enough to make him wanting more but not enough to provide him any real pleasure.
slowly, you shift higher up his body until you’re aligned with his pretty face that looks up at you with eyes fuelled with worship. “you gonna make me feel good?
he nods again, hands lifting from the sheets to your thighs to pull you onto him before you can get another word in. it’s clear how desperate he is to make you feel good and it only makes you want him more.
Chris places a few teasing kisses above where you want him, having his fun with taking his time before you sit down on him.
it begins slow, his tongue licking a stripe through your folds before focusing on your clit. he’s sure to make sure your weight is fully on him, the pressure of his pink muscle pressed against you is intoxicating.
eventually your hips begin to rock sensually on his mouth while his lips create a suction on your throbbing clit, only proving to build the pleasure you’re experiencing below.
“mmm such a good boy for me Chris. you always know how to make me feel so good” your praise only causes him to increase his speed, giving you exactly what you want. “i’m the only one that gets this- fuck. no other girls can have your tongue the way i do”
you can’t help but fuel your own ego at your situation with Chris, proudly expressing how grateful you are for him while placing subtle jabs at anyone who tries to interfere.
the pace increases. soft moans leaving your lips while his hands squeeze your ass into him, only increasing the pressure of his tongue more.
you’ve quickly forgotten about earlier. your thoughts flooded with the the sensation of his soft lips on you as his tongue inserts itself into you, curling upward.
you fall forward, your upper body becoming weak at the overwhelming speed of his tongue switching from curling into your wetness to sucking on your puffy clit.
a loud sigh escapes your lips as his fingers rub small circles on your lower back, his mouth doing all the work. it’s impossible to stay still, and his tongue makes your body move in a rhythm against his face. hips grinding hungrily into him as you approach your high.
“so good fuck, i’m close baby” you moan out, and you can almost feel his lips curl into a smile under you at how easily it was for him to make you unfold, but he quickly resumes his rhythm on your clit, desperate to give you what you need.
your stomach tenses as your orgasam overtakes you, thighs squeezing his brunette curls that rest between your legs, his tongue working you through your first orgasam.
eventually his mouth slows before you pull yourself off of his face. the sight below could almost make you cum again, his flushed cheeks and messy hair along with the wetness dripping from the corner of his mouth.
god you really do love having him like this.
you swing our leg off of Chris, laying on the bed horizontally next to him. a puzzled expression replaces his hopeful one, he’s not entirely sure what you’re getting at by laying next to him.
you speak after another moment of confusion passes by. “what’s taking you so long? thought you wanted to cum?”
he sits up practically right away, moving his body to hover over yours. you can tell he’s not entirely sure this is what you’re asking but you quickly confirm his suspicions with a short kiss, your hands immediately reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “i need to feel you”
it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head and he’s immediately more excited than he is confused, hands dropping down to assist you with pulling down the damp bathing suit that keeps him from you.
the sight before your eyes is mouth watering but you can’t give in, still attempting to remain dominant. his dick is clearly exhausted from waiting so long, remnants of pre cum dripping down the veins that surround it.
“make it up to me Chris, i don’t wanna be mad at you after this” you demand, his hands finding your knees to spread your legs open, your centre still leaking slightly from earlier acting as a perfect lubricant for him.
“yes ma’mm” he spits into his hands before spreading the warm saliva over himself, stroking a few times before aligning himself with your entrance.
it begins slow, he always allows you to adjust to his size momentarily, just sinking into you and starting off with lazy, sensual thrusts. his face is aligned with yours, the plush pink colour on his cheeks showing just how badly he needs this—how badly he needs you.
“you fill me up so well baby fuck” you moan out, his pace inside of you increasing slightly as his tip has no problem brushing over your sweet spot.
he leans in, leaving a few wet kisses to your bare neck before whispering in your ear. “i’ve been so bad, let me make it all better”
before you can mutter out some form of a reply his hands travel to your thighs, lifting your legs so that your knees are aligned with your head. this new position only makes the feelings of his thrusts feel deeper.
he quickens his pace, hips moving in a rhythm that causes nothing but small whimpers and moans to leave your lips.
a smile tugs at his lips at your current state, your tits bouncing in the thin bathing suit fabric and your mouth in an o shape at the constant pleasure he’s inflicting onto you.
the strength of his hands on your thighs only further help push himself into you, hitting your g-spot relentlessly. Chris knows you well enough to know when you’re close, your eyebrows furrowing and your walls closing in on him, so he takes that as a sign to bring one hand down in between you.
the pads of his fingers find comfort on your sensitive clit, rubbing light circles as the pace of his hips hasn’t let up once. “fuck Chris you’re so good” you moan out, hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you.
he leans in to your ear again, voice slightly shaky as he avoids the urge to moan. “do you forgive me?” his hand moves quicker against your clit, practically begging you for a simple ‘yes’.
“mmh i-“ you throw your head back, orgasam approaching quickly.
“i need you to say it pretty girl”
the new sense of confidence behind his voice only further turns you on, your orgasam hitting you like a brick before you can even prepare yourself. “yes! mm i forgive you Chris”
at your words he continues slamming his hips into you, using your release as leverage to come to his own high that he’s been holding back for awhile.
suddenly he pulls out, giving his dick a few pathetic pumps as he releases onto your bare stomach, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure.
he practically plops in bed beside you, the two of you completely exhausted from the day and the events that transpired moments prior. “i’m so sorry, fuck i was stupid” he groans out, bringing his hand to his forehead to rub at his skin.
“it’s okay, we’re both kind of idiots sometimes” you giggle, placing a small kiss on his cheek before sitting up. “we really need to shower now though, we stink of chlorine”
a/n: hope you enjoyed lol i’m gonna take a break from writing on my page for a while due to burn out and such but i will still be contributing to collabs
if u haven’t read @greatooglymooglyyy or @luv4kozume fics today go do that now those are some of my fav ppl and writers on this app and they deserve all the love!!
taglist:
@lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius
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astolary · 3 days
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APRIL SHOWERS BRING MAY FLOWERS .
( Synopsis ) ✿ freesia – going on a strawberry picking outing
( Author's Note ) @xianyoon has created a lovely event called when the spring light hits the field! Please check out her event >< Ying thank you so much again for letting me write with these prompts :D Up next, Neuvillette hehehe
( Pairings ) Diluc x GN! Spouse Reader
( Content Warnings ) Reader likes strawberries, reader is Diluc's spouse, set towards at least 7-10 years into the future?
( Word Count ) 1.0k+ words
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DILUC DESPISES THE MONTH OF APRIL. It does not bring back fond memories. If anything, it reminded him of the times when he was sheltered, naïveté, weak, foolish. How he failed to stand on his own two feet to protect his father; how he pushed everyone away from him; how he ruined everything around him like a corrupt flame choking nature into black ashes. 
It was hard for him to create relationships with others after that incident. And if something was hard for him outside of work-related matters, indulgence in desires was something he did not deserve. That is too selfish and self-centred for a man of his calibre.
Diluc had everything; the Dawn Winery, mora, a stable business, a loving father, and a reliable brother.  His future was all planned out for him. And everything collapsed because of a birthday wish.
Of course, fate had plans for him. Or was it chance? After all, April showers bring May flowers.
“Good morning, Master Diluc!”
“Master Diluc, good day.”
“Greetings, Master Diluc.”
“Good morning everyone.” Diluc greeted his staff.
Quick footsteps padded the floor. “Master Diluc, here’s your coat.” Moco diligently stood behind him, coat neatly hanging on her arm. “Are you going to pick the strawberries today with (Name)?”
“That’s right.” Diluc nodded. “Do you happen to know of my spouse’s whereabouts?”
Spouse. If you asked him a decade ago if he were ever to find a partner, he would have promptly dismissed the idea and made a mental note to close the tavern early to resume his evening duties.
“(Name) has already started harvesting the strawberries,” Moco informed him.
“I see, they must be in a rush.” Diluc mused. “Thank you, Moco.”
Tsk, cheater. Diluc brooded in the back of his mind.
Hastily, he walked down the cobblestone stairs, quickly spotting a head popping out in the strawberry farm
The post-winter breeze tousled his face like a bygone dream, greeting the animals from slumber; welcoming the birds from the 7 nations; and the plants full in flourish. Spring has come once again.
Which also meant…
“It’s time to harvest the strawberries.” Diluc voiced out loud. He watched your head snap up from the strawberries quickly, freezing like a deer in headlights. “I thought we said we would compete fairly this year.”
Preposterously, you mockingly stood up and pointed an accusing finger towards him. “I would have competed fairly if someone didn’t eat my basket of strawberries last year!” 
Clutching your strawberry basket tightly to your chest, you feigned offence. You marched towards him, holding your chin up high in defiance. “This year, I will win, and I will get to be the one to spoil you for a whole month!” You kicked his basket with your hip
“Really now?” He smirked. Diluc pinched your nose, watching you scrunch your face cutely. 
“Of course! In fact, I’ll harvest more strawberries than you ever had.” You announced, “I’m winning this year’s strawberry-picking competition!”
As if ignoring the fact that he has always helped in the seasonal fruit harvests since childhood— just like every other year, you deliberately testified your demise. “I’m sure you will.” Diluc replied.
“Just you wait,” You laughed. “Because I have a plan,”
It wasn’t a pretend cackle, your laugh was a joyous laugh, a tinkling melody that burst straight from your heart and enveloped the entire area. A laugh that showed that you were enjoying your time with Diluc over a competition on who could harvest the most strawberries. (Because you both knew it was out of character for Diluc to have fun over a competition.)
(Years ago, when you both carefully strengthened your relationship through time—Diluc did not spare time, but for you he was more willing to take care of himself. And trust—trusting himself was so much more harder than trusting you. Because how can you trust someone wholeheartedly when you can barely trust yourself?
“It’s alright if you don’t trust yourself,” You spoke to him under the orange tavern lights. “Most of the time, we barely trust ourselves to make decisions. But that’s why I’m here.” You smiled, the most beautiful smile he’s seen you show him. “I knew what I was getting into by being with you, and when you don’t trust yourself, I’ll trust you.”)
He’s so, so grateful for being you being in his life.
In a daze, Diluc stood still, holding his basket idly in his hand— soaking in your happiness. Your laugh made him so happy…
You were comfortable living in the manor, with him. You were comfortable laughing, with him. You pushed him to be the best he can be, not because he loves you, but because it’s something he must do to become a better person. To be more worthy to receive your love.
You’re so amazing…
A gust of wind passed by him. Diluc snapped out of his daze.
“But of course, you can’t win the strawberry picking competition if you don’t have your basket!” You yelled. Your legs burned as you ran as fast as possible away from him. (Maybe you’ll reconsider working out with him.)
Diluc chuckled. “Oh you sneaky…”
And Diluc ran after you— of course, while deliberating keeping his pace slow. Because, you know, you should really reconsider working out with him.
Diluc does not despise the month of April.
“Elzer.”
He looked up from the documents in his hand.
“Adeline?”
“Look.”
Adeline’s gaze was fixed on the window, fondness swirling in her eyes and an affectionate smile touching her lips.
Curiously, Elzer rose from his chair and took quick strides towards Adeline.
“Master Diluc is chasing (Name) around the vineyard.”
Chasing (Name) around the vineyard…? 
He shifted his gaze towards the window. Ah.
“If Master Diluc is fond of grapes, then (Name) is certainly fond of strawberries.” Adeline sighed wistfully.
“Doesn’t it bring back such fond memories?” 
Elzer rested his hip against the window ledge. “It does.” 
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Elzer sighed nostalgicly.
“Just like when Master Crepus and My Lady were younger.” Adeline agreed.
Ah, Master Crepsus would be so proud of the man you became, Master Diluc.
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astolary 2024 — do not edit, repost, or translate. © genshin impact official art © @/h-aewo dividers © @xianyoon : when the spring light hits the field event
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katnissgirlsmakedo · 6 months
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if you watch it the right way, kat mcnamara was playing gay in girl vs monster. and i really believe this
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gojuo · 1 year
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i need them to have scenes together like right now
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theghostofashton · 14 days
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#i keep thinking about that post from yesterday abt like someone using a ratio of 1 kudos to 10 hits to decide if a fic is worth trying#the notes are full of people criticizing that method (rightfully)#but i also think there's something to be said about the critiques writers get for caring about stats#yet at the same time people admitting shit like this#like how can you scoff at writers for being upset their fics have low hits or kudos or whatever#if that is how people decide what fics are 'worthy of their time'#as someone who for a period of time had such an unhealthy relationship with stats#it really is just such a vicious cycle like you always want more and you keep increasing the number in your head#you're aiming for a certain number regularly until that number becomes consistent and then you want more#it just never stops and you find yourself focused more on that than anything else#there was a point where i was writing whatever i could rushing stuff out in like an hour because i was so desperate for comments#i'm so glad to have let that mindset go but like#if we want to let it go entirely as fic writers readers need to also not be saying shit like this#if you don't want stats to matter stop insisting that they do#there is genuinely so much that goes into why certain fics get more popular and others don't#having so much to do with what's going on in the fandom or what happened in the media or what the fic is about#it's variable and inconsistent as fuck and that's why tying your self worth to it is guaranteed to be upsetting#sometimes just the way people go in on fic writers for......daring to want people to read stuff we worked hard on is just so. beyond words#it is natural and normal to want attention on something you've created when you share it publicly. there is nothing wrong w that#idk idk what my point is here just. be kind to fic authors#read fics with 'low stats'#read things that look interesting remember every person posting fic is just someone who loves the thing they're writing about#so much that they wanted to share it with you#don't lose sight of that#neha rambles
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
3K notes · View notes
shaguro · 2 months
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{ "SKIN TIGHT.ᐟ" }
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{ft. satoru g.} when you realize that you’re falling in love with your friends with benefits, you distance yourself. ghost him after each session. but this time, gojo won’t let you go so easily.
{warnings.} fwb!gojo x reader. fwb to lovers trope! fem!reader, orgasm denial, missionary, breeding kink (like if you sqint) unprotected sex. pet names used, (baby, girl) gojo is a lil delulu. extremely intimate. angsty throughout but ends happy. wc. 2k.
{shanti’s note!} heavily inspired by skin tight by ravyn lenae. listen to the playlist for this story here.
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“are you.. are you just usin’ me, (y/n)? just think you can fuck me whenever you feel like? that’s just cruel, baby.”
you knew this was coming.
satoru was pretty much good at everything, sex included. it’s why you initiated this arrangement in the first place, being his friend and fucking him whenever you wanted to. the terms were simple: casual sex with no unwanted, lingering emotions. love is complicated, exhausting — after a handful of failed relationships, you wanted no parts of it and threw in the towel, officially out the game.
he’s not wrong, you do use him. fuck him and disappear by the next morning, unseen and unreachable until you decide to show up at his doorstep again, sometimes days — usually weeks later.
you know he’ll let you in, no matter how much time has passed. just cruel.
“you’re evil. you and this fuckin’—“ he sucks in a sharp breath, tilts his head back. gooey walls mold his dick, all ribbed and dangerously warm. is this why he lets you play him like this? “. . . tight ass pussy you’ve got.”
if it wasn’t for satoru holding your legs up and open, veined hands creased in the bend of your knees, you’re sure they would’ve gave out. he’d been relentless with his teasing this session and you were puffing, the shallow breaths left a slight tremble throughout your body. sweat beads rolled down your temple, cascade down the junction of your neck.
satoru denies you an orgasm for the umptheeth time and you start to think he’s the cruel one. you deserve it, though. this torture, his crafty method of punishment.
he’s had you like this for some time, the deep rut of his hips halted, everything is still. just satoru and his cerulean-speckled iries glowering down on you, goosebumps decorated your skin. you knew he was waiting for some sort of explanation to rationalize the mess you’d created but you weren’t sure where to start.
with your cheek smushed on your shoulder, you decide to fix your eyes on something, anything across the room to avoid his stare that was burning into the side of your head. “‘toru, i’m sorry.”
satoru scoffs, his trimmed fingernails indent your soft skin. “damn, now you’re lyin’ to me too? must really wanna hurt my feelings.”
“i’m not, i swear—“
“you disappear for three months and all you have to say is sorry?” he spat, his words had an uncharacteristic sharpness to them, hard and demeaning. it wasn’t hard to detect the underlying rage that rumbled within his entire being. “no explanation? just sorry? nah.. you gotta.. you gotta give me more than that, (y/n).”
taken aback, you bite down on your bottom lip, at a complete loss for words. there isn’t much you can say to pacify him, you doubt he’d care to hear it. what worked before certainly won’t work now.
the quiet is deafening and suspenseful.
and your silence angers him further, on levels you can’t fathom. you won’t weasel your way out of this, he concludes. you’ll give him an answer, even if it’s at the expense of his already bruised ego.
“hey.. look at me.” he sneers, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your chin, his thumb and pointer fingers curl as they angle your head forward and back onto his face. “just.. talk to me, please.”
satoru gojo, begging? oh yeah, you’ve really done a number on him.
you take your time as you admire him, basking in the sheer beauty of the man in front of you. obnoxious and arrogant as he was, satoru gojo is undeniably attractive, simply gorgeous — pink, kiss-bitten lips slightly parted and his cheeks a pretty shade of red from the exertion, you gather. his abs are chiseled and tense and if you peek lower, you’re met with neatly trimmed, white tufts of hair at the base of his dick.
“you…” you stop to clear your throat but it didn’t need clearing, only to counteract how embarrassingly weak your voice sounded. “..y-you wouldn’t understand, satoru— oh!”
he exhales deep through his nose and suddenly leans down, releasing his hold on your knees to brace his elbows on the satin-sheets. while he does this, his hips roll — slow as he feeds you all his thick inches until he bottoms out, his pelvis taut against your neglected clit.
you mewl out and your hands encircle his neck, scratching at the low hairs on his nape. he’s so close, your noses basically touch. his breath fans your face, cooling your rather hot cheeks. “then help me understand, baby. make it easy f’me, whatever it is.. i can handle it.”
you’re not worried about him not being able to handle it, in fact you’re not worrying about anything at all. how can you when he’s got you stuffed, stretched and full like this?
concentration is impossible as satoru sets a steady, languid pace — not too slow nor too fast, just enough to have your manicured, white toes curling. your mouth in the shape of a pretty ‘o’, your breathy whimpers resounding off the walls of satoru’s bedroom, the beautiful symphony ringing in his ears.
an addicting melody, you were like his own personal drug. insatiable and persistent, gojo was unsure if he’d ever get his fill of you, truly he didn’t care. as long as he had you here with him, where you belonged.
“c’mere,” he pants and leans in, connecting your lips in a swift motion. you melt into the kiss, jaw slack while your tongues meld and mix. it’s fervent like always but this sensation is new — raw, almost vulnerable. pouring his heart out to you in all his movements and you can feel all of it.
“‘toru, oh my g-god.” you grip his forearms, keening as his length drags along a spot that has stars twinkling behind your lids. “i was j-just— fuck!”
“just what baby?” he mocks, it wouldn’t be gojo if he didn’t find a way to tease you, even in the most intimate of moments. he litters kisses along your jawbone before latching onto the delicate skin on the column of your throat, grazing his teeth on the surface to ensure it’ll leave colorful marks, letting out a pretty whine of his own. “shit, squeezing me s’tight- gotta use your w-words f’me.”
well, that’s easier said than done. your body is trembling in a way that can only be caused by satoru, every time your mouth opens to form words only meek, whiney moans follow. your tips scratch the plane of his delts, surely leaving cat-like scratches in their wake. and your legs hang loosely off his slim waist as you cling to him for dear life.
“i was just s-scared, satoru.” your voice was low, it was nearly drowned out by the wet squelching of your pussy. the constant schlap schlap schalp of satoru’s pelvis meeting the fatty flesh of your thighs.
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes meet yours, his head slightly tilted in confusion. “scared of what? of me?
“no!” you shake your head profusely and reach a shaky hand up to cup his face. he leans into the touch, the heat of his cheek warming your palm. if there was one person you’d feel eternally safe and protected with, it’s him. “no.. never. it’s the w-way you make me, hmm, f-feel that i was scared of.”
“oh? and how do i make you feel?” he purrs prior to kissing you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. truth be told, he wasn’t sure what you were about to say. he prayed to the god above you couldn’t feel the rapid beating of his heart, notice the uneven rise and fall of his chest. so he plays it off, even with that slight tremor in his voice. “you love me or somethin’?”
it might be more than love. a deep attachment, a classic case of yearning and longing. gojo satoru was made for you. no amount of denying or running from the obvious would change that fact. you love him so badly it hurts, it consumes you — clouds your thoughts and steals the air from your lungs. no more fighting, you had no energy left to.
you’re surrendering yourself to satoru gojo and it was time to let him know.
“yeah,” you confirm with a giggle, all airy and breathless. your thumb strokes his cheek gingerly, tilting your chin up so your foreheads touch. “i love you, satoru.”
satoru doesn’t respond, in fact he was deadly silent. mouth agape, his eyes darting wildly as he examines your face, searching for signs of roguery but he found none. you were telling the truth, the love swelling in your eyes made it oh so apparent.
“again.”
you let out a surprised yelp when satoru presses his body down, the pressure of his weight dips into your chest, leaving you winded. his face is buried in the crook of your neck where the neediest whines roll off his tongue. with this new angle, he’s balls-deep and the rhythm his hips carry has your eyes rolling, holding his broad shoulders to ground yourself.
skin-tight, it’s like your bodies, your sounds are one.
“s-say you love me again.” he rasps, and it’s more pleading than demanding. like he needs reassurance.
“i love you s-so muchh— ohgod, don’t stop, don’t stop!” your words trail into high-pitched mewls and satoru sighs, a blissful sound of relief. your pussy clamps down on his dick greedily, sucking him in impossibly deeper as he massages your aching walls, un-calculated and sloppy.
this was the effect you had on him, you always left him a fucking mess. satoru would let you ruin him, every time, for as long as he lived. “don’t know how long i’ve b-been, hah, waitin’ to fuckin’ hear t-that.”
you’d tease him for the stutter in his words if you could think clearly but your mind is blank. you’re delightfully delirious as satoru pounds into you, giving you quite literally everything he’s got. simply insatiable, you still want more. settling a weak hand on his hip, you use the last of your strength to propel him forward, your juices aimlessly squelching between your bodies, dripping down your perineum.
“f-fuck girl, you-you’re drivin’ me crazy. n-not gonna last, baby. f-feel like y-you’re tryn’ to milk me.” satoru babbles, and you swear you can feel a warm trickle of drool on your collarbone. how cute, he’s just as brainless as you are.
his pace is frantic now and that familiar tingling is building your gut. your limps are limp against him, your whole body rocks in tandem with his as he works his hardest to bring the two of you to completion.
“satoru, m’gonna cum, s’closeee.” you whine, lashes fluttering as salty tears clustered on your lash line.
he only hums in response, snaking one of his hands between your bodies to find your clit, all your sticky slick had your mound drenched. he smirks whilst rubbing figure eights on the sensitive nub, your quivering folds dragging a deep groan from his chest.
“want m-me to fill you up, hmm? p-pump this pretty pussy with all my cum.. want it all, y-yeah?” he’s rambling is incessant and you nod dumbly. it’s in one ear and out the other, the pure euphoria coursing through your bones driving you insane and all you needed was release.
it was the pinch to your clit that did it, the final blow that had your back arching almost painfully as your climate rushes through your body in intervals, your hardened nipples brush against satoru’s pecs as you twitch uncontrollably, a chain of broken cries mixed with his name fall from your lips like water.
like clockwork, satoru’s orgasm follows directly after, he muffles his moans in your shoulder, damn near biting the skin as he pumps you full, as promised. it’s alarmingly warm, scorching as it invades and overflows within your womb, too much for it to handle, some of it spilling back out. satoru doesn’t pull out, plugging as much of his semen as he can to your insides.
the silence after is comfortable. the two of you in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and panting from the intensity of your shared orgasms. you’d make your way to the bathroom, eventually. for now, you bask in the blissful ambiance.
“(y/n)?” satoru’s voice breaks the silence, a whisper as his head lulls on the fat of your breast.
“hmm?”
“i love you too.”
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@screampied @satorena @hoshigray made yall wait long enough LMAO.
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allseeingdirt · 10 months
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thinking about created gods. about gods created from peoples hopes and dreams. from belief. you exist because of them. because they created you. your power, they gave. your divinity, they gave. your task, to protect, to care, to nurture, to punish, they gave. and how wretched of an existence that must be. to exist only to serve. a beacon of light higher than anything and everything, and they curse you, and they beg for you, and they revel in your light demanding demanding demanding. and yet not to answer is to die. is to cease. is to disappear like forgotten hymns. and perhaps the desperate wish held in gritted teeth and knuckled fists to live, to live to live to live and hold existence and life and peace in your hands is the most universal trait of every living thing. because you serve. there is no other choice for you. can't you see? can't you see? you made me. you made me.
you made me in your image.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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public displays of affection - aaron hotchner x reader
the aaron take on the derek/penelope workplace seminar (episode of reference: 9x12)
cw; bau!reader, established relationship, suggestiveness, small allusions to sex, fluff <3, bau family banter, aaron being mortified😭, references to the episode wc; 1.4k
"penny," you shut one of your files, placing it in your desktop organizer. "you're creating a draft."
"this is bad. oh so very very bad." she stammered, continuing to pace back and forth, "i'm just mentally preparing myself to be humiliated in front of the entire unit. for the second time, may i add. god, who blabbed this time?
"what did you even do?" spencer chimed in, his head lifting from his current read.
"i don't know." she exclaimed, an exasperated breath leaving her. "nothing out of the ordinary, so that means anything is possible. you," she pointed at morgan, who casually was making his way over to the rest of you. "we're in big trouble."
"this could be totally unrelated." jj reassured her. you agreed, giving penelope a nod and a hopeful smile. "there was no footnote on what this meeting consisted of."
"well, there was no footnote last time. and to this day, i still get asked what flarpy blunderguff means." she huffed, crossing her arms and turning towards derek. "i love you my hunk of a man, but this. this is a nightmare."
as two began rolling around, the bullpen filled in anticipation for the seminar, a light hum in the room as conversations were exchanged back and forth in waiting.
in addition, a presence soon stilled beside you. one always familiar, but surprising under the current circumstances.
"what are you doing here?" you looked up to find aaron's gentle eyes. he took a seat on the edge of your desk, just behind your chair.
meetings like these - usually below aaron's pay grade. he hadn't needed to attend the last, infamous meeting for instance, HR meetings were normally things he had prior knowledge of, or simply not worth his valuable time as unit chief.
"i got the email as well." aaron's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers comfortably kneading into your always-tense muscles. every so often, his hand would brush to your shoulder, and then back again.
"oh no," penelope slapped onto derek's arm, the smack covered up by slim buzz within the vicinity. "what did we do?"
"looks like we're about to find out." dave stated, his eyes following the woman who had just entered the bullpen, moving to the front.
the notorious HR lady of the bureau, nancy, sauntered over to the large presentation screen set before the clusters of desks. not wasting a second to get down to business, she turned toward the crowd of eager agents.
"thank you all for your attendance and time, this shouldn't take too long." she started, poised and head held high.
penelope took a deep breath.
"this afternoon's presentation," nancy clicked a button on her remote, displaying the title page. "public displays of affection."
oh no.
aaron's hand, which had continued to smooth out the stiffness in your neck, halted immediately.
"as you all- most are well and should be aware, keeping conduct professional in the workplace is a must to prevent disruptions within the environment. displays of affection - examples upcoming - can cause extreme feelings of uncomfortableness amongst your colleagues, and can be distracting nonetheless. all of which, creates a...."
just as last time, she clicked her remote. and adjacent to penelope and derek's presentation, in big letters across the top:
"hostile work environment."
derek immediately snorted under his breath, inviting others to openly laugh as well. despite the urge to shoot daggers at him, you were utterly incapable of pulling your attention away from the front.
it wasn't a top secret ordeal - everyone could infer the pair this presentation was centered around, and be correct.
"and so," nancy exhaled a breath, her eyes darting in your and aaron's shared direction for a smidge second, causing the heat to grow in your face and body. "i urge everyone to refrain from the following,"
similar to yours, aaron's face burned, comparable in color to his tie. he let out a nearly inaudible, nervous cough from above you.
"sitting on one's lap, while working on caseloads - not appropriate."
more laughter rippled through the division.
"oh god." you mumbled under your breath, uncomfortably crossing a leg over the other as your palm covered the bottom half of your face.
contrary to the present belief, aaron was a stickler on pda.
for the first few months of your relationship, he hadn't dared to touch your arm, back, anything in order to maintain such affection within the field; it was reserved for closed doors at home only. he loved you, but he wanted to uphold his reputable professional nature.
but as time moved forward and your relationship progressed, he hadn't gotten sloppy, per se, but more relaxed or lenient was a better way to put it.
some displays were accidental by habit. if he wanted to give you a quick peck, depending on the situation and setting, he would. seated beside each other, he would lovingly squeeze your thigh under the table, if you needed the encouragement or if you made him proud in some regard. if he were feeling frisky one day - sure he would do something, just to rile you up for later, to each of your benefit. so on and so forth.
and if he was initiating affection, you took that as the all-clear to do the same. in variation, of course.
so more often than not, it was in private. just not... always. and the lock on aaron's office door often came in handy for that.
"prolonged kisses in the bullpen, elevator, not appropriate."
once. you were caught once in a (very) heated kiss in the elevator.
as you and aaron cowered in embarrassment, both dave and morgan looked far too amused for their own good. the rest of the team - raised, entertained eyebrows, tossing glances to one another while trying to constrain their laughter.
nancy swallowed, as if she needed strength to deliver the next point, "grabbing one's behind when going up the stairs, not appropriate."
another mortified cough exited aaron.
she went on, giving more examples of affection aaron and you were completely guilty of. and if just one singular time wasn't enough, she went-forth on the explanation that such displays can cause a barrier within the workplace.
when you thought it would never cease, nancy finally delivered her ending statement, "save it for home people, thank you."
and with that, as well as the screen darkening, everyone disbanded, low murmurs and chuckles filling the room as each went about their usual routine.
you looked up at aaron in absolute horror, whose face was currently in his hand. but even that didn't hide the blush brewing within his face, his ears flushed wildly as well.
you reached up, grabbing his wrist to pry his hand away.
"nuh uh uh," derek grinned as he wiggled his index finger at the two of you, imitating nancy to a tee. "not appropriate."
"you hush." you got to your feet, allowing you to remove his hand more easily. you cautiously prolonged your hold, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before letting it drop. "aaron?"
his brown eyes found yours, full of embarrassment. "that was..."
"humiliating?"
he nodded, his head accelerating in speed with each nod, "yeah. that's the term i would use."
"oh you poor dears." penelope breathed out, the one compassionate member of the team.
"damn." emily chuckled.
derek cackled again, clearly not ready to let this go. honestly, he probably never would. "thought we didn't notice when you pulled the blinds in the office, did ya?"
aaron gave him a pointed glare, putting a very quick end to the conversation. just as the rest, the team carried on with their remaining work for the day - you and aaron remaining frozen in place.
but surprisingly enough, a laugh did escape him, shaking through his chest. "guess i have to tone it down a little, huh?"
"oh thank god," you blurted out and exhaled in relief, a small smile forming on your lips. "i thought this would cause an avoidance arrangement or something." you teased - partially.
"of course not. some reservation, maybe, but not avoidance." aaron laughed quietly again, a sigh escaping him.
"that was bad, wasn't it?" a slightly pinched expression took form on your face, your cheeks tinting once more.
"it wasn't... good." aaron admitted with some hesitation, but his brown eyes still glowed despite the lines of troublesome. his hand found yours - after scanning that no one was paying attention to the two of you - giving it a squeeze. "but hey, out of problems to have, i'd take showing my love for you any day."
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chuuyrr · 3 months
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 .ᐟ
feat: dazai, chuuya, fyodor
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ꨄ˙ CW(s): gn! reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk)
ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you drink too much and don't even realize that your boyfriend is your boyfriend or you might as well be drunk in love
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in the dimly lit bar, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself swirling the remnants of a colorful cocktail, the room around you blurring as the night progressed.
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DAZAI sits beside you, and couldn't help but notice your flushed-pink demeanor, fueled by the drinks you had consumed, and giggles to himself.
in your tipsy state, you tilt your head, looking at dazai with a playful suspicion. the room spun slightly, and you sway on your seat, trying to focus on his face.
"you know," you slur, "you're a suspicious stranger. i bet you've got some secret agenda." you point an accusing finger at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
dazai, amused by your playful accusations, couldn't help but giggle even more, "oh, do i now? well, i'm just a harmless 'stranger' who happened to find the most adorable drunk person in the entire bar."
you raise an eyebrow skeptically, still not recognizing him, "adorable, huh? well, mr. stranger-fanger, you're gonna have to prove it." you cross your arms, a challenging smirk on your flushed face.
dazai, seizing the opportunity, wraps his arms around you with a mockingly serious expression, "see? no danger here, just a guy who appreciates adorable drunks."
you broke into a fit of giggles, melting into his embrace, "well, you're not that bad for a stranger, i guess."
completely unaware that the 'stranger' was, in fact, your boyfriend, you continued to enjoy the whimsical dance of laughter and teasing, creating a memory that would undoubtedly be cherished in the days to come.
"i'm gonna be serious though, i am your boyfriend," dazai says to you.
you blink softly at him, your tipsy-drunk state had somehow lead you to look at him as such. dazai blinks back before a grin starts to tug on his lips.
"do i have to remind my dearest? well, then. buckle up because you're in for a treat!" he says before he instantly starts peppering your face in kisses as he holds you tightly.
you immediately start to squeal and giggle as you are reminded of the constant kisses that your boyfriend would give you admist the alcohol in your system.
"osamuuu!" you say in a soft whine before he pecks your lips.
dazai grins even more widely at your cute little whine as he cups your face now, "that's more like it. goodness, such an adorable drunk you are, hmm?"
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CHUUYA watches with a mix of concern and amusement as your cheerful demeanor transformed into a tipsy state.
as the night wore on, chuuya decides it was time to take you home. he gently placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, trying to capture your attention, "hey, it's getting late. how about we head home?" he suggests, his voice warm and caring.
however, in your inebriated state, you misinterpreted the situation. you gasp sharply before you squirm in your seat and whine softly, "nooo, i'm having so much fun here! plus, you can't take me home! i have a boyfriend!"
chuuya was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but chuckle at your resistance afterwards upon seeing this, "come on, baby, i'm not a stranger. i'm your boyfriend, and I just want to make sure you get home safely."
now it's you blinking softly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and innocence, "boyfriend? really?" you giggle, completely unaware of the true nature of your relationship.
"you're being so silly right now, i almost can't with you," chuuya sighs, still laughing softly, "geez, i didn't know my baby can be this forgetful with this much alcohol."
undeterred, chuuya continued to coax you gently, his amusement growing as you stare at him in awe as you begin to pat his cheeks in your warm hands, "this pretty face is all mine?"
chuuya chuckles again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he takes your hands in his before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on your lips and whispering, "i'm all yours, baby."
the night unfolded in a blend of laughter, warmth, and the endearing challenge of convincing you that the 'stranger' was, in fact, the person who cared for you the most, and you couldn't help but giggle even more into the kiss.
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FYODOR observes your increasing intoxication with a measured gaze, a sense of concern clouding his usually composed demeanor.
as the night unfolds, you continued to enjoy the array of drinks that nikolai had generously provided you two. fyodor, recognizing the potential consequences, decided it was time to intervene. he places a hand gently on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
"dear, perhaps it's time to slow down," fyodor suggests, his voice calm and measured as he tries to get you to stop.
you looked at him with a tipsy grin, oblivious to the fact that fyodor was your boyfriend, "but nikolai is just being generous. no harm in a few more, riiight?"
fyodor's piercing gaze held a mixture of concern and determination, "i'd rather not see you regretting this tomorrow. let's enjoy the night responsibly," he insists, attempting to guide you away from the tempting allure of more drinks.
however, in your intoxicated state, you resisted his efforts, misinterpreting his intentions, "oh, come on! live a little, stranger!" you playfully tease, unaware that fyodor was the person you were romantically involved with.
fyodor couldn't help but hide a small smile at your playful antics, though he inwardly feels a twinge of sadness at being referred to as a stranger, maintained his composure.
he observes you with a subtle sadness in his eyes, a fleeting emotion that betrayed the depth of his feelings. still, he wasn't one to give up easily.
with a gentle touch, he cupped your face, making you meet his gaze, "remember, i'm the one who cares deeply for you," he murmurs with a faint smile, his eyes staring in yours.
"i may be a stranger in this particular scenario, but i am not to you," fyodor replies softly, realizing that your drunken state was proving to be a barrier. yet, he didn't relent.
the realization began to dawn on you, your intoxicated mind slowly connecting the dots, "wait a minute... you care about me? really?"
fyodor nods, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and longing, "more than you can imagine."
you blink softly, still processing the situation through the haze of alcohol. before you could react, fyodor leaned in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss against your lips. the touch was tender yet filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, an attempt to bridge the gap that had momentarily separated you.
as the kiss unfolded, a subtle warmth spread through you, and the fog of intoxication seemed to lift momentarily. the taste of familiarity mingled with the hint of sadness, creating a poignant moment that transcended the blurred boundaries of the night. fyodor then pulls away, his gaze searching yours for any signs of recognition.
there was a pause, a moment of suspended realization. slowly, your eyes widened, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "wait," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and clarity as you smile. "you're not a stranger, only my fedya kisses me like that!"
a soft smile tugged at the corners of fyodor's lips as the weight of being called a stranger lifted. the kiss had served as a catalyst, a bridge that connected the fragments of memory scattered in the alcohol-induced haze.
"my, my, how could you forget your fedya, dear?" fyodor sighs, shaking his head before he kisses your lips again and whispers, "traitor.."
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ꨄ˙ A.N.: i feel like i might have written fyodor in an ooc-ish way, and if i did, i apologize !! haven't written for him in so long and i don't write for him as often as dazai and chuuya. this is also kinda silly i think now that i've finished writing this lol !! thank you so much for reading until the end (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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querenciasturniolo · 3 months
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chris or matt x fem!reader please !!! i legitimately cannot choose between them for my life so you can choose :) maybe reader’s also like an influencer and they have this secret sort of relationship for a while and its all super fluffy, but fans are already starting to speculate that they’re together and stuff, and then at the end they finally go public with a hard launch and/or live and everyone in the comments ( or chat if it’s a live ) is going FERAL
p.s. also i’ve loved your works for so long you DO NOT UNDERSTAND and i’ve finally gathered up the courage to send in a message even tho it’s sent in with a request !
hard launch ⮕ m.s.
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word count: 911
warnings: swearing
summary: request
a/n: STOP YOU’RE SO SWEET 😭 please don’t be scared of me, i promise i don’t bite HAHAHA, ily are you kidding me 🫶🏻😭 also this was so fucking cute, i’m obsessed fr
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
Watching Matt stream always had your heart stuttering in your chest.
The theme for Hogwarts Legacy was playing as he was adjusting his camera, your eyes watching him closely and trying to fight the smile stretching across your face. You were sure the viewers could see you staring, considering you were sitting in the chair directly next to him, on camera. His eyes dropped from the screen as he grabbed his controller.
“Alright guys, so, we’re playing Hogwarts Legacy tonight, but I have a special guest with me, as you all can see.” He turned his head and met your eyes, his own smile growing and his cheeks tingeing pink as he caught you already staring. Introduce yourself, he mouthed. You turned to face the camera, grinning wider than before as your eyes scanned over the chat.
“Hey guys, I’m the guest, obviously. My name is Y/n.” You said.
did anyone else see the way she was staring at matt ? they’re in love, confirmed
she’s so real, i’d be staring too
i can’t even handle this, she’s so cute
“Basically, Y/n’s going to play while I tell her what to do. She’s never held a controller in her life.” Matt teased, his eyes flickering between the screen and the chat as you pressed the button to start the game.
“Wait, I have to create a whole character?” You asked, glancing over at Matt as he placed the headset over your ears. He chuckled and nodded.
“Yes, you have to create a whole character, is that not what you were expecting when you begged me to play this game?” He teased. You rolled your eyes and adjusted the headset, making sure the ear that was on his side was exposed so you could hear him.
“This is ridiculous, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I had to create an entire chara—oh my God I can have pink hair, I take it back.” You rambled, scrambling through the hair colors. Matt’s laugh next to you had you grinning as your eyes flickered between the screen and the chat.
this banter is only proving my point that they’re in love
i’m so glad she’s streaming with him this is so funny
has anyone else noticed that matt hasn’t looked at the screen once
You glanced over at Matt, meeting his eyes immediately. You couldn’t help but mirror his smile as you shook your head and faced the screen again. You created your character, groaning when you realized you had to go through a thousand cut scenes, even though you were thrilled to be playing this game.
“I never understood why you can’t see those weird horse things until that dude gets eaten by the dragon.” Matt said, catching your attention enough for you to glance at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. You sighed through your nose and shook your head.
“I forgot, you’re a fake fan.” You said, interrupting him before he could fire back. “They’re thestrals, you can only see them if you’ve witnessed death, but they’re always there.” You explained, Matt furrowing his eyebrows as you faced the screen again.
y/n being a harry potter fan was not on my docket, but i’m not complaining
her humbling matt has got to be the funniest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life
i love this
The entire time you were going through the beginning quests, you and Matt had bickered back and forth, your smile wide with each comeback you shot at him. It wasn’t until a knock on Matt’s door that the two of you stopped talking. You paused the game, but Matt scoffed and unpaused it.
“You keep playing.” He demanded playfully, your own scoff leaving your lips as you shook your head and continued. Chris peeked his head into the door.
“Food’s here, just thought you guys should know.” He said, Matt nodding his head. Chris left the room, and Matt turned to you.
“I’ll go get it.” He said, standing from the chair as you turned to face him. Before you could process it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours firmly and turned to leave the room. You smiled and shook your head before facing the screen and realizing what just happened.
oh mY GOD I FUCKING KNEW IT
DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT ??????
WHAT IS GOING ON MATT JUST KISSED HER ON FUCKING STREAM
You ignored the chat, trying to play it off and completely move past what happened, thinking that Matt did it on instinct. Chats were flying in at such a rapid pace that it felt as though everything on the screen was lagging. It was completely screwing up how you were playing, not only your racing heart and shaking hands on the controller.
You completely short circuited, having no idea what to do as Matt walked back into his room. He was laughing at something Chris had said as he sat down next to you and glanced over at the chat.
“Oh.”
You looked over at him and raised your eyebrows, your skin on fire as you watched his eyes scan over the rapid chats flying in at once.
“Yeah.” You said, Matt finally meeting your eyes with pink cheeks. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your nose before he sat back and grinned widely.
“I guess that was one hell of a hard launch, huh?”
tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @champangekisses , @floofparker , @lovelysturniolo
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wonderlandwalker · 1 month
Text
A Hero on Socks | Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: You've always known your now boyfriend Eddie was a virgin, but with how worked up you've been while teasing him recently, you're not gonna let the first time be over that quickly
Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, mdni, virgin!eddie, established relationship, wrap it before you tap it obviously, overstimulation, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Couldn't resist my Eddie Munson fixation any longer. The title comes from a Dutch expression and it basically means someone who seems courageous but is actually a nervous little shit and it seemed perfect for Eddie. I haven't written in a little while so I hope this is still good <3 (This accidentally posted early so enjoy xx)
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The two of you had been dancing on a delicate line of 'just friends' for a while now, and you're not even entirely sure what the turning point was, but eventually you crossed it, now officially being able to call Eddie Munson your boyfriend.
He made heart eyes at you every time you walked in a room, and not a single one of your friends failed to point this out when you told them you got together, none of them the slightest bit surprised. 
It might be a new relationship, but you have known each other for years now, and you knew how to get what you wanted from Eddie. So yes, you knew he was still a virgin, but you failed to see how this would make a difference to you, you didn't care, people shouldn't have to worry that others will hold that against them. What you hadn't counted on, however, was how shy he actually turned whenever you started to tease him.
While you were still friends he would flirt with you unrelentingly, constantly making suggestive comments and touching you in one way or another. But maybe the fact that nothing was supposed to come of it gave him the boost he now seemed to have lost, because whenever you slipped your hand underneath his shirt when you were on the couch next to him, every moment you tried to heat up a kiss, he would go rigid, you would feel his body tense as he ceased any and all actions to create some distance between you. 
You asked him what was going on, asked him if he didn't want to have sex with you, and you had never seen him swivel his head in place so fast, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at you, sputtering to tell you that wasn't the problem at all. And that's when you learned that the dungeon master of the hellfire club was in fact nervous. 
And really, it was quite cute to see the blood rush to his cheeks when you took your top off, his Adams apple bobbing as you sucked on his pulse point. The boy was downright bashful. 
As the days passed, you found more and more ways in which to get a rise of out him, in more ways than one. From walking into the chill living room without a bra under your t-shirt to not so subtly grinding your ass into him while standing closeby, but your plan began to backfire as you just wanted him more and more yourself, wondering how much longer your patience would hold up. 
The silent curses and groans had you losing your own mind with lust as the days passed, up until the moment he had finally snapped, dragging you into his bedroom in frenzy, trying to get you on top of him as fast as he could.
All of your hard work had led to this moment right here, you could hear his panting from underneath you, his breath becoming more shallow as the muscles in his abdomen started to twitch, and if you weren't so lost in pleasure yourself, you might have teased him for how fast he was becoming undone. 
It's only been a few minutes, and there's a heat creeping up on his neck, you can't resist bending over to meet his lips in a searing kiss. When you move on to mouth at the soft skin of his neck, delicately sucking hickeys into it, the sounds that leave him are nothing less than sinful.
His hands have a death grip on your hips, trying to ground himself but miserably failing every time you grind yourself further into him. You're trying to figure out what he's saying, but it's no more than mumbling in-between his moans of your name, and with how hazy your head is you don't have it in yourself to figure it out. It's only when he suddenly slams his head back against the pillow, face screwed up in a way you can see the small crease between his eyebrows as he curses wildly that you pick up on the fact he wasn't just close, no, he just came. 
At any other time you would have found it adorable, you would have giggled and coed at him softly as you assured him with a sweet kiss that it's okay, but not this time. This time you've been getting yourself worked up from teasing him, from leading him up to this, from the feeling of finally, finally  getting his dick inside you. So no, not this time, this time you won't let the feeling in your stomach fade away, won't stop just yet. 
You feel his cum coating your walls, and the feeling only keeps you going further. It takes Eddie a few seconds to catch on in his state, heavy breath he's trying to catch and a permanent look of pleasure now etched on his face, but you know the exact moment he realizes from the small twitch his dick is already giving again.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" He sounds almost close to tears, but he looks at you with nothing but amazement in his eyes.
"You might be done Eddie, but that doesn't mean that I am" youre starting to get a little out of breath yourself, the sentence caught between small whimpers, he scrunches his eyes shut again when you tell him, and the most heavenly moan leaves his mouth as you continue to roll your hips. 
You knew deep down that if he truly wanted to, he could easily get you off him, even in a euphoric state, and so you knew that he is enjoying himself just as much as you are.
His eyes snap back open as you start to go faster, chasing that warm feeling bubbling up inside you, his dick is fully hard again inside you, and you don't doubt it has turned an angry red colour by now. 
"It's too much baby, I can't-" he doesn't manage to finish his thought from the guttural groan that follows him, and you can't deny it only turns you on further to see him this blissed out. 
He's struggling to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you but gettig lost in the vision of it. Torn between pleasure and pain, the two merging together as you keep going. You can feel the satisfaction of it tugging at your heart as you keep moving, feeling his throbbing dick inside of you as you change the rythm. Eddie is still a mess underneath you, whimpering and groaning for anything, for everything, and it’s too fun not to tease him further.
“What do you want Eddie, tell me and I might give it to you.” You wonder if it even matters what you’re saying, sure that at this point he’s far beyond reach, but he doesnt dare leave you unanswered. 
“You’re so warm baby fuck, just please, please”
You lean into him again, leaving a trail of kisses down the spot on his neck you know make him go weak. “Please what, finish your sentences honey, or I’ll stop right now” The both of you know it’s an empty threat, you’re too close yourself to even dare abandon your goal, but the mere thought of it is enough to make Eddie give you anything you’d want, youre decently sure you could ask for the moon right now and he would go out to catch it for you.
“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad holy shit” He can feel you tightening around him as he asks, another pornographic moan leaving him, and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t basking in the fact you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.
“Alright baby, because you asked so nicely, go ahead, cum for me.” you whisper the response in his ear, and it takes him mere seconds to find your lips, hiding away in the sweet escape of your tongue against his. For the second time you can feel his cock pulsing his cum inside of you, desperate for the realease. And it’s that feeling exactly, the feeling of his pleasure, that tips you over the edge yourself. The ecstasy taking over your mind, helplessly keeping rocking against him as you slump over, moaning his name as you cum. He catches you in his arms, already tracing patterns in your skin as you’re still riding out your orgasm. 
It takes you a few minutes to fully come back to earth, stars twinkling in your vision. You can feel Eddie’s steady breathing underneath you, his heart still thumping rapidly as you listen for his regular pattern of breaths, mimicking it in order to catch your own. 
“You alright?” His soft voice soothes you, always so gentle, even if most can’t see it. It makes you chuckle this time around, amused at the irony.
“I feel like I should be asking you that.” He mirrors your expression now, a grin breaking out across his face.
“Never been better sweetheart” He accompanies his words with sloppy kisses all over your face, smacking his lips against you in a manner that has you giggling against him.
“Was worried it was too much is all” You look down when you tell him, and he cups your jaw, silently asking you to face him again
“There isn’t a world out there where there could be too much of you.” He kisses you slowly this time, not rushed, not chasing anything, simply enjoying the moment as it is.
You lift yourself up slightly, feeling him leave from inside of you, and when he does you already miss the feeling again. You feel his seed dripping out of you, revelling in how he filled you up until you were so, so full. He’s watching, and you can feel his dick make a small twitch at the sight as he’s holding his breath, completely fixated on it.
“Fucking hell-” he still can’t seem to tear his gaze away, and you’re not immune to the effect itself.
“Give me a few minutes and we can go for another round” You’re laughing at his antics now, his nerves seeming to have fully disappeared and the Eddie you know so well has made it back to you.
He coaxes you to the side to lay down next to him as he slides his arms around you, your leg tangling over his as you snuggle up beside him. Your limbs feel like jelly as he holds you, his fingers still delicately moving across your skin as you can hear his heartbeat evening out from where you're lying down on his chest. This was Eddie, your Eddie, a guy who put on a big show for everyone, but when he was with you got to see his true self, and it only made you love him more.
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bella-goths-wife · 1 month
Note
I imagine Vees pet would see how Val treats Angel and try to help him when she can, like calming Val down from his tantrums or playing something to help Angel himself if he is going through a panic attack.
Vs pet trying to help angel
Warnings: Valentino, SA mentions, panic attacks, abusive relationships
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You’ve seen how Val treats his workers, and while you hate seeing it you know there is nothing you can do to stop it
You know your place as the assistant, you may receive nicer treatment from the Vs than any other demon but that doesn’t change who’s in charge
But there’s something about the way that angel is treated that really makes your stomach turn
The obsession that Val carries for angel, and the excessive cruelty towards him makes you feel physically ill
You do your best to distract Val from angel, but you have to be subtle or else your entire plan fails
You’ll respond to vals affection despite your uncomfortably feelings when he touches you, you know he doesn’t want to touch you in a sexual way but he’s not been platonically affection with anyone in so long that he’s forgotten how to touch someone without a sexual undertone
You’ll use your calming tricks on Val whenever you see him becoming irritated with angel dust, but sometimes even that doesn’t work
Sometimes there is no stopping Valentino’s rage from coming out, no matter how happy your affection makes him or how calm your ability is
So he will eventually blow up if the circumstances are too bad to fix, and angel will be caught in the crossfires
After Valentino is finished with his abuse, he usually leaves to get a drink and expects you to join him
But sometimes you don’t, you’ll look down as the bruised and battered angel dust and you can’t find yourself cruel enough to ignore him
You’ll treat his wounds and you’ll use you ability to create the same humming and heartbeat sound you use on Val to calm him on angel
You think that angel is too out of it or too panicked to remember who is doing this for him, but he remembers
You figured it out after you had a particularly stressful day with the Vs controlling behaviour and you hid out in a dressing room
You crumpled to the floor and cried your heart out as panic and anxiety filled your chest
You gripped your own hair painfully as your rocked back and forth to try and soothe yourself, but all you could focus on was how much you despised what you did
You despised vox’s commands of cruelty to others, you despised velvette’s infantilising and insulting words she spat in your direction because you weren’t being a ‘good pet’ and you despised that you could still feel vals touch on you and all you wanted to do was scrub your skin clean
As you cried and hurt yourself by yanking on your hair, you felt yourself being pulled into someone’s chest fluff and four arms wrapping around you
Angel shushed you as you cried and he rocked you back and forth in an attempt to soothe you the same way you had soothed him
You cried for hours into his chest as he shushed you and rubbed your back in a sympathetic manner
When you finally looked up at him, he mustered up a small smile as he wiped the tears from your eyes
“You remind me of my sister” he said quietly as he laid your head back onto his chest “too kind in a world that’s got cruelty in every corner, too naive for your own good”
After that night, there was a mutual understanding between you and angel dust
He looked out for you, and you looked out for him
But subtly of course
You don’t even want to imagine what the Vs would do if they found out you had formed a friendship outside of them
But you knew that them knowing would only endanger angel dust and gain you a punishment
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Let me know what you think :)
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utahimeow · 7 months
Text
cw — nsfw content. minors dni. boxer!wriothesley, established relationship, handjob, slight size kink
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warm water wraps around you as though a blanket, envelops you as though a coccoon. steam crawls softly into the air, wispy as it winds its way into your lungs and tucks away every last thought in your brain.
the scent of cherry blossom settles into every corner of the bathroom and mingles with the soft vanilla of the candles you lit. tealights glow like little fireflies all around the tub. with your eyes closed, you’re floating along a river in an enchanted forest, until a door clicks and you’re back in your quaint city apartment.
not that that’s a bad thing—after all, the noise signifies the return of your lover.
there’s about a minute of shuffling outside and the heavy thud of his duffle bag hitting the floor. then, the door handle dips slowly and wriothesley slinks into the haven you’ve made of your bathroom.
he crosses the room in one stride, but before you have the chance to open your eyes to examine his face like he knows you will, he cups your entire face in one huge hand and draws you in until his mouth is on yours.
his lips are hot, the bottom one slightly swollen and bumpy in a way that you know in an instant it’s been bruised.
it comes with the job is what he always tells you. you think he’s trying to convince himself more than you. he’s broken your heart a thousand times, coming home with cut cheekbones and blood streaming from his nostrils at least once a week, and still it never gets easier for you to see.
if it were up to you, you would lock him up inside your ribcage and keep him safe, stowed away from the relentless world.
he’s stopped letting you come to his fights. he did a while ago—his version of ‘protecting’ you. he figured it was worth giving up sharing the triumph of his victories with you if it meant you didn’t have to witness the violence he was paid to do, to have done to him. it also meant you were left to stay at home and bask in a pool of your own dread until he came through the front door again.
i fight for you, my dear is what he always tells you. he doesn’t listen when you tell him that you wish he didn’t have to.
wriothesley starts to climb into the spot behind you, but you shake your head no.
“sit in front,” you say, soft.
wordlessly, he obeys.
you continue, “did you win?”
“‘course i did,” he says, like he’s telling you the weather. “it was a rookie though. almost beat my ass. he could be trouble in a couple years.”
you hum. the water sloshes as he settles in the nook created by your thighs, his broad, hulking back facing you.
wriothesley is a mountain. he stands at six foot five, his muscles hard and thick and honed to perfection. he is the personification of raw power, and yet when your thumbs rub tight circles into his shoulder blades, he melts like wax.
your gentle fingers work away the stubborn knots beneath his skin. his breathing bounces off the bathroom tiles, deep and heavy yet full of relief, as your touch helps him slip further and further from the weapon that he becomes in the ring.
the tips of your fingers trace along his spine, sliding over each vertebra. they ghost over his shoulders, gliding forward until they run along his collarbones.
with your arms hooked around his neck, wriothesley allows you to pull him backwards lightly until his back is flush to your bare front, and you hold him. there is nowhere you want to be more than here, with your flesh moulded with his.
you reach for his wrist, lifting his hand out of the water, rubbing your thumbs over his bruised, bloodied knuckles. after you’ve cleansed them, you bring them to your lips and you kiss them one by one. then you reach for his other hand, wipe away his sins, and forgive them with your lips.
moments like this remind you of what wriothesley was like when you first met him. a stray dog in human form— he cowered from your touch, bared his teeth and growled and snapped at you. he had no trust left in him, therefore all he knew how to do was fight.
like all stray dogs, however, he started to let you in, slowly. he started to come to you. he knew he could come to you. quickly he figured out that your lap was his favourite spot.
now, he lays between your thighs, while your lips press wet kisses at the top of his spine, and along his shoulder blade, and in a trail up his neck. he lets you kiss and suck and bite and devour him all you want, mark him up, make him yours. there is nowhere he wants to be more than here, melting into you.
a deep moan, almost inaudible, rumbles in his chest as he breathes out, a sound that makes you throb between your legs and your lips twist into a grin.
you lean in close to his ear, let your warm breath ghost over the skin of his neck. “can i touch your cock?” you ask in a whisper.
“please,” he grumbles, but it’s far from desperate. wriothesley does not beg—his plea is to encourage you.
one of your hands trails down his rigid body until you find his cock, half-hard at the bottom of a dark trail of hair, and your fingers curl around him, but he’s so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. you thumb at his slit, drawing small circles around his blushing tip, the way you know makes him utterly weak.
the moment you start to move, gliding your hand slowly up and down his cock, wriothesley’s head falls back against your shoulder, his body slumping as he surrenders himself to your touch. he sighs out, like he’s trying to expel the stress that’s within him, relishing in the way you work him.
biting your lip, you start to pick up your pace, jerking him off with a tad more vigour. you tighten your fist around the head of his cock, feeling the muscles of his back stiffen against your chest as you do.
it’s uncharacteristic how pliant he becomes sometimes, so putty in your hands in a way that makes you wonder if this is the same man who can put his opponents in a coma. he batters and beats them bloody, just to come home and fall apart in your arms.
“am i making you feel good?” you murmur into his skin, tugging at his cock steadily.
“fuck yes,” he replies, a low growl. “always do, baby.”
wriothesley’s gravelly voice travels straight to your core, spurring you on, so you flick your wrist just a little faster, again. you squeeze him a little tighter before loosening your grip, going back and forth in a way that makes the man’s head spin.
you’re peppering his neck and shoulder with kisses, lips fluttering over his skin tenderly in hopes of drawing him nearer to his edge. blood rushes to his face, his cheeks and nose burning hot pink, his lips parting slightly as he pants. the one downside to having him like this—you can’t see his pretty face.
he can’t help how his hips buck slightly up into your hand, following the swift strokes of your wrist. you go faster, filled with the urge to help him finish, determined to help him find euphoria.
he’s achingly hard in your hand now, throbbing against your fingertips.
“‘m fuckin’ close,” he mumbles, breathy and low, lifting his head off your shoulder to watch the way your hand drags up and down his cock.
and the sight alone is enough to make him cum—he groans, roaring loud, throwing his head back onto your shoulder, the ridges of his abdomen clenching as his cock twitches and his release dribbles from his tip, warm and thick as it covers your hand.
his body shakes against yours. you’re pressing your lips to his hot skin again while he comes back down from his climax, breathing hard, sinking further into your body now that you’ve loosened him up even more.
“fuck. need a nap now,” wriothesley rasps.
you giggle, full of affection for him. “then do it. promise i won’t drown you.”
“i would, but baby, this bath is not made for people who are six-foot-five. my back’s starting to hurt,” he says, rising out of the water and stepping out of the bath. fully bare, he looks like a greek god. when he turns back around, you’re pouting.
“maybe you’re getting old,” you quip. the way you stare at him reminds him of a cat.
he quirks an eyebrow. you don’t see it coming when he lunges forward and scoops you up out of the bath, and you’re squealing.
“good, so i’ll be dead soon. won’t have to put up with you any longer,” he says, but he’s wrapping a towel around you and patting you dry, and his icy blue eyes are brimming with a fondness reserved for nobody else but you.
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mavrintarou · 1 year
Text
[3:19 PM] - Suna Rintarou
Gotta head out - be back later to edit... or not. Enjoy!
Warning: smut . Aside from volleyball, Rintarou was naturally gifted with the camera.
He had captured some of the most exquisite and breathtaking photographs of Y/n, making it look like they were professional shots.
He also possessed a collection of the most embarrassing shots, which he kept strictly to himself. There were also a few special ones that were meant for his eyes only, capturing intimate moments between them.
He was a very active Instagramer – posting quite frequently for his million followers, but he kept his relationship out of public eyes.
When Rintarou created a TikTok account, his followers grew by the day.
He would capture a wide range of videos, from documenting his volleyball training sessions and games to showcasing the delicious lunches Y/n packed for him. He even recorded moments of making his coffee, creating a collection of glimpses into his daily life.
Each time he makes a video, Y/n gets a notification, and she entertains herself with them.
“My baby made me some Korean food today,” he sniffs his bento, groaning. “I told her I’ve been craving some Korean food, and… she loves me so much.” He stuffs his mouth with a Kimbap. “You guys ask if she makes me lunch every day – yes. Does she not work or… is she a stay-at-home partner?” He shoves another Kimbap into his mouth. “She’s definitely an independent woman who earns her own money and won’t allow me to support her like the best boyfriend I am…” he narrows his eyes directly at the camera, “she always watches my videos, so – please tell her that it she needs to let me treat her like a queen.”
Y/n burst out laughing and clicked on the comments.
Suna’s girlfriend, please allow Rintarou to treat you like a queen!
Can we get a glimpse of her?
She is so lucky!
You’re so lucky; your food looks so good!
Y/n narrows her eyes at the first comment.
You’re so hot, Rin; please fuck me!
Y/n clicked on the person’s profile of a young woman.
Curiosity got Y/n going through Rin’s other videos to view the comments. She saw the same account commenting on every one of Rin’s videos, saying something inappropriate.
.
Rin checked his phone as he slipped his shirt on.
He was still waiting for a message from Y/n.
Though it wasn’t unusual, it felt odd that she didn’t text or react to his video.
She always commented or reacted to his video.
Did she not see it?
But it clearly said Read 2:35 PM underneath the message.
Without wasting another moment, he made his way toward their apartment, a sense of urgency guiding his steps. Sitting behind the wheel, waiting at a red light, he drummed his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. The unsettling feeling gnawed at him, the sense that something was amiss between them weighing heavily on his mind.
While they didn’t frequently engage in conflicts, he made a conscious effort to minimize arguments, fully aware that disagreements are a natural part of any relationship. Over the course of their four-year journey together, they encountered only a few instances where tension escalated. However, despite needing some time to cool off, they always found a way to come together and discuss their concerns. They were committed to understanding each other’s perspective and exploring ways to grow and improve for the sake of their relationship.
And have hot makeup sex.
Rintarou jams the button to his floor in the elevator impatiently. Of all days, it seemed like the elevator door was being an asshole and taking its merry time to get him up to his floor.
“Y/n!” He shouts once he enters his apartment.
“Yes?” her sweet voice calls from the kitchen.
She doesn’t sound upset or mad, he thought. He quickly toes off his shoes and drops his gym bag in the living room to head to the kitchen. His heart relaxes a bit, finding her in the kitchen preparing dinner.
But he was still a little nervous and wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t upset.
He goes to wrap his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek and resting his chin on her shoulder. “How was your day?”
“Good,” she answered, “you?”
“Tired,” he answered as usual, “but a little… nervous.”
She finished whatever she was doing before washing her hands, the both of them doing a funny dance towards the sink because once Rin clings on to Y/n, it is no use trying to get him off.
“Go wash your hands and sit down; let’s eat.” She hears his sigh before he lets her go, and she watches over her shoulder as he pouts towards the sink to wash his hands and takes a seat in his usual spot.
Y/n leans against the counter, watching him zone out sitting there. Rintarou may be hard to read on the court, but Y/n could read him anytime.
Something weighed heavily on him, and his emotions spilled out much like a toddler’s when they couldn’t express their feelings.
He doesn’t realize Y/n has yet to set the table, “why are you nervous?”
He gazed up at her with a lost expression, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t react to my video,” he murmured, seeking an answer with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
Y/n arched an eyebrow at him, suppressing a chuckle. “What?”
“You didn’t react to my video today… did you not watch it?” he inquired with a  tinge of concern. “Did I say too much in the video about you?” The renowned and notorious Middle Blocker for EJP Raijin resembled an anxious child, desperately seeking reassurance if he had done the right thing.
Y/n furrowed her brows, a realization dawning upon her as she acknowledged her lack of response to his video. “Oh, Rin,” she chuckled softly, moving closer and straddling his lap. Tenderly cupping his face, she pressed her lips against his pout, kissing it away. “I did watch it, but I must have gotten carried away reading the comments,” she explained, her tone apologetic. Her eyes narrowed as she mentioned one particular fan. “There was this one fan who was quite vulgar towards you,” she continued, her voice hinting disapproval. “I didn’t like it one bit.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes, anticipating his reaction. “Are you… jealous?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.
There it is.
“No, I’m not. I don’t need to be jealous when I already have you.”
Rin kisses her throat and nips the skin there. “You’re right; I’m yours, all yours, just as you’re mine, right?”
“Hmm,” Y/n runs her fingers through his hair before gripping a fist full and tilting his head back. “All mine.”
His eyes widen for a split second before they squeeze shut when Y/n trails her tongue along his jaw and down his neck. She was not one to mark him in prominent areas, but tonight, she showed no mercy to his neck.
“Y/n…” Rin groans ten minutes later. His hands grip her hips, desperately guiding her to rock herself over his lap. “’nough…”
She pulls back and admires her work; now she knows how Rin feels. She leans to peck his lips and lifts herself, “all right, let’s eat!”
“What!” His grip on her hips tightens, “no way, you can’t leave me like that.” He looks down at his crotch; the outlining of his thick cock is visible against his joggers.
“But… our food will get cold?”
Rintarou chuckles, “no way, baby, food can wait… not me.”
Y/n squeal when he pushes her onto the table, grabs the end of her yoga pants, and tugs them off in one go. He pulls her panties aside and pulls cock out enough to slowly thrust into her pussy.
“Ah… Rin,” she moans, gripping the edge of the table. “Fuck… yes…”
His thrusts are slow and deep. “You had me worrying for no reason…” he leans over and grips her jaw to kiss her deeply, “I’ll show them – “ he speeds up his thrusts, “I’ll show them I’m yours… only yours….”
All the rubbing and rocking over him stimulated her, and Y/n was close until Rin pulled out of her. “Rin?”
He maneuvers her onto her front side and smacks her ass before getting down on one knee. He pulls her panties off and smothers his face into her core, slurping, sucking, and biting.
“Rin!”
He squeezes her cheeks hard, taking a bite on each side before standing back up, “need to mark you as mine too…” he guides his cock back home and thrusts fast and hard.
Their kitchen echoes with skin slapping skin and the kitchen table squeaking.
“I’m so… I’m so close baby…” Rin groans, and seconds later, hips jerking and cock spasming as he cums inside.
Rin withdraws; his eyes are fixated and anticipating as his cum drips out.
A minute later, after catching each other’s breath, Rin whispered, “baby?”
Y/n turns to look over her shoulders, clearly in bliss. “Yes?”
“Bed?”
“Yes, please…”
.
“Today, my baby packed me my favorite… jelly fruit sticks!”
Y/n sipped her morning coffee and tapped the heart on the video before clicking on the comment button.
Those are my favorites too!
You’re like an excited schoolboy about their lunches!
Is no one going to talk about it?...
Suna-san… what are those marks on your neck?
Are those… hickies?
Those are definitely hickies… wow… his girlfriend is kinky…
. . .
@hellatrashdontask @queenelleee @wrongimagine @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermnethooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme @haitanifxn @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @omissanitizerlol
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edenesth · 3 months
Text
The Way to His Heart [10]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.5k
Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11
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"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.
Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"
Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.
The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."
Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."
With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"
Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."
"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."
That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"
Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."
The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."
Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."
Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."
Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.
He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.
Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.
His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.
However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.
Just go talk to her, you fool.
Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."
Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."
As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."
Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"
He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."
"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."
His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.
"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."
"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.
"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"
Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.
Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.
The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.
You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."
He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."
Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"
He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."
Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.
Finally, our first kiss.
Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"
He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.
Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.
Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.
"Your Majesty, please—"
The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."
Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.
This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.
Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.
Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.
"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.
Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."
As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."
That's... it?
Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"
All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.
Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."
Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.
Oh god, my life is over...
Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."
All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.
"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.
Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.
As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"
With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."
All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.
"P-please, have mercy!"
Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.
The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."
Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."
"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.
Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.
Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.
A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."
"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."
"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.
They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.
"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."
The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.
Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.
"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"
In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"
"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"
The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.
"Yes, sir!"
And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.
Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"
Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."
Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."
"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.
With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."
The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."
As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"
"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.
Just a bit more, and I'm free.
« Preview of Part 11 »
"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.
Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.
"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.
"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.
The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"
"Y-you—"
Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"
Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."
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That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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