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#don’t know why you would need to know this
s-4pphics · 2 days
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candy crush. (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 
WORD COUNT: 4.3K
WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts
A/N: idk where this came from lol
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Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 
Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 
“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 
“You know her?” 
“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 
“Fuck off.” 
“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 
“At who.” 
“At you, dipshit.” 
Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.
“Get her numbe—“
Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 
“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“
“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 
You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.
Crumbl. 2 shops down. 
Fuck. 
“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 
“Purchasing… I think.” 
“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 
Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.
Ellie sighs in relief. 
That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 
Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 
She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 
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Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.
Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 
“What can I help you with?” 
She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 
It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 
“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“
“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 
Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 
“N-No. I just—“
“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“
“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“
“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”
The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 
“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 
Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 
Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 
All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 
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It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 
It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 
Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 
It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 
What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 
And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 
“Good morning!” 
You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 
“How can I help you?” 
You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 
“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 
You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.
“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”
Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 
“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“
“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 
Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 
“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 
Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 
Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 
“Hey! You’re early!” 
Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“
“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?
She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 
“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 
“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“
“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 
“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.
“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 
“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 
When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 
“What the fuck did you do.” 
“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 
“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“
“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“
“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”
Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 
“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 
Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 
-
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Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 
Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 
You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 
One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 
But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 
She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 
“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”
Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 
She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.
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Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 
The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 
She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 
In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 
But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 
Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 
“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 
“What can I get for you?” 
Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 
“Um… A cookie?”
“… What flavor.” 
“Uh… peanut butter?” 
You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 
Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 
“W-What’s your favorite?” 
You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 
She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 
“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 
“I’ll get a dozen.” 
“O-Of the same flavor?” 
She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 
You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 
“No.” 
“Cash or card?” 
“Card, please.” 
More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 
A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 
“Excuse me?” 
“W— um, when’s your break?” 
Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 
“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 
And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 
You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 
“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 
“You can wait outside.” 
One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 
When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.
She sees why they’re your favorite. 
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The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 
It makes her nauseous. And sad. 
But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 
Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 
But it has to be to you. 
Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 
“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“
You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 
“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“
“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 
“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 
It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 
“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 
The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 
“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 
Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 
The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”
Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 
She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 
“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 
You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 
Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”
A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 
“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 
When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 
“I’m alright, thanks.” 
“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”
You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.
Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 
A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 
Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 
… How quickly can crushes develop? 
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Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 
She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 
Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 
What a mistake. 
After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 
Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 
She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 
They didn’t. 
You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 
Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 
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“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 
“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 
Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 
You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 
“Hm.” 
It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 
Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 
Ellie’s definitely crushing. 
Crushing very, very hard. 
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surielstea · 3 days
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Sweet Temptations
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel enters a bet with his brothers on who can go the longest without sex with their mate, Reader makes it hard for him to win.
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | creampie | rough sex | shadow play | the slightest bit of bondage | pet names (love, baby, angel) | 2k words of smut cause I love all you freaks
6.2k words
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I tread softly down the long hallway, following the golden tether connecting me and my mate. Shadows weave through my fingers and twirl up my calves, following at my side until I stop at a familiar door.
I creak open the private library's door and peer my head in only to find Azriel in a large leather chair that I would be drowning in if it was me who sat in it. He was lounging carelessly, a book between his hands as he flipped through the pages.
If he knew I was at the doorway he didn’t show it, just continued reading without a stir, he didn't look up to me either. So I took the opportunity to gawk at the beauty that is my mate, to admire his elegant features. It was no secret Azriel was the prettiest of the three-winged Illyrians. It didn't matter what your type was, my mate seemed to be able to make anyone flush bright red with a few words.
My gaze wandered over his complexion that I’ve admired countless times, those sharp cheekbones that seemed to be able to cut steel, his tousled black waves that drifted over his forehead, those hazel eyes rapidly scanning over the page of his book, and his golden skin that was fully on display due to him being shirtless, I was the culprit for his missing clothing, the soft black shirt draped over my frame, going down to my exposed thighs.
"I can feel you staring." He finally speaks and I startle but he still doesn't look up to me. I decided just looking wasn't nearly enough, because anybody could look at him, and I didn't want to be anybody, I wanted my hands on him the way only a lover could have. I step into the private library and close the door behind me. My steps are silent as I approach his side but again, he's still not sparing me a glance.
Something like envy makes me frown, being jealous over a book was foolish but Azriel's eyes were always on me. He is constantly observing me, silently watching no matter the circumstance. It was such a normal occurrence in our relationship that I had grown used to his eternal notice, not realizing how much I loved it until now, until this foreign attention-craving attitude took over my emotions that screamed look at me.
"Azriel," I sit on the armrest of the large chair, I feel pathetic being so desperate like this.
"Hm?" That's all he replies with, but he still won't look at me, why won't he notice me? It wasn't that I needed the attention. He could do his own thing I didn't mind, but I also didn't want to be ignored.
"I'm going to make some breakfast, do you have a preference?" I place a hand on his arm, tracing my nail over his tattoo, something I do so often that I don’t have to look at the tattoo to know where the inky lines are.
"Whatever you make will be good." He said, his words slightly clipped. I crease my brows but nod and place a kiss on his temple before sliding off of the chair. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his thoughts.
I walk back to the door, giving him one last confused glance before leaving the library and aiming my way towards the kitchen.
I decided on making a breakfast quiche, something simple so I could mull over my thoughts while I baked. I learned the recipe from Rhys's mother so it comforted both me and Azriel I suppose, growing up in that house every winter when they weren’t preoccupied at windhaven held some of my favorite memories, as well as some of the worst. I mated with Azriel in that house, on my twentieth birthday it had clicked and we’ve been together ever since— but this was the first time Azriel has ever ignored me.
As I cooked I wondered what was going on with him, to be distracted over what he was reading I could understand, I've done that to him nearly a hundred times but the way he spoke almost sounded restrained? Like he needed to hold back from saying anything else or even doing anything else but sit there still reading.
I played the quiche once it was done on two ornate plates. I've always liked to cook, but the three winged males seemed to be against it when we were younger, saying that I didn't have to since we were in Illyria, that just because I was a girl didn’t mean I had to pick up that lifestyle. I had to make it clear to them that I wasn't their maid and I wasn't even Illyrian, it's not like I went around cleaning up after the messy boys anyway, in fact, Rhys’s mother gave them more chores than me, which has always irked Cassian.
"Az, food is ready!" I shouted down the hall and to my surprise he came down the stairs in mere seconds, without the book in his hands. "For you." I slid one of the plates over to him and he blinked down at it, still not looking at me as he carried them over to the table.
"My favorite," He hummed as I walked over to him and placed utensils beside his dish. "Thank you." He picks up the fool and cuts into his quiche. I frown. He usually kisses me after I make a meal for him, or at the least gives me a hug. I muffle a sigh and opt to lean down and kiss his cheek instead, then take a seat beside him in front of my own meal.
We ate in silence like always, but today it was slightly uncomfortable, not fully awkward, but just... off. The food was good and Azriel had it disappearing in minutes, at least he still likes my cooking. When I finish he collects both of our dishes and takes them to the sink where he'll wash them later tonight.
"It was delicious as always my love, thank you." He calls over his shoulder as he wipes his hands, but he doesn't look at me. I would do anything right now to get him to look at me.
I look at the wall of windows to my side and notice the sun rising, golden and pink hues painting the sky. "Don't you have training with Cassian today?" I ask, flitting my eyes back to him.
"Mhm, I'm going to get ready now." He says at the base of the stairs. My stomach twists anxiously, have I done something wrong? Why is he being so distant?
“Can I come?” I ask once he’s halfway up the steps.
“If you’d like to, get dressed,” He replies dryly and a frown tugs at my lips. He only talked to me in vague words, not weighing in on his own opinion on anything like I was used to, normal flowing conversation. And maybe I was in my head, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to watch my mate train under the golden sun.
I rush up the stairs and enter my shared bedroom, going straight to the armoire and finding a simple outfit. I pull a pair of pants on, I wasn’t training and only spectating but it’d feel wrong to show up to a training ring in a gown. I swapped out Azriel’s shirt that still clung to my body for a top that matched my flowing bottoms, the style reminding me of what Amren typically wore.
“Az can you tie me?” I approached his side of the bedroom where he was adjusting the siphon on his gauntlet. I turned around and held my hair up before he could reply, but instead of his hands that grabbed ahold of the strings it was silky shadows, cold against my bare back as they tied the strings into dainty bows.
He walked out of the room before they were finished and I chased after him, feeling pathetic while trying any ploy to get his attention but if he would just tell me what was going on I’d be willing to help him, but I couldn’t do that if he ignored me.
I intertwined my hand with his and he squeezed it on instinct, then quickly loosened his hold like he wasn’t allowed to show me any form of affection.
He wasted no time before shadow-walking us to the top of the house of wind where Cassian always trained with my mate. He doesn't say anything, just lets us slip into that darkness of realms. I cling to his arm tighter, just in case I fall into another pitch-black realm full of mysterious creatures. The darkness only lasted a mere second until we were on the roof of the mansion Az and I used to live in.
I steady myself with Azriel's arm but he doesn't return the movement, as if he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. I disband our arms as soon as I can stand on my own. I notice Cassian across the rooftop, Nesta beside him, seething so noticeably I thought steam might come from her ears. I walk over to the sitting area where the water station resides, Nesta following suit as our mates warm up with their usual movements.
I knew better than to ask Nesta why she seemed so irritated but when she sat right beside me I felt safe enough to say she wasn't mad at anything to do with me.
Nesta and I had become close friends while I resided at the house of wind, Azriel and I only moved out about a year after her and Cassian’s mating bond clicked. But during that time Nesta would often confide in me. When she felt she couldn't talk to Cassian but needed someone, anyone who would understand. I happened to be that person. It started with romance book recommendations the house hadn't already given to her, then moved to deeper things. Things like Tomas or problems she was having with Cassian, or even her struggles with the power from the Cauldron. However, there were still things she refused to talk about, her sisters for example.
"I'm going to kill him." She gritted out as the two males began to spar.
"Tell me about it." I huffed, staring at the warriors fighting so roughly, not their usual fluid movements. Like they needed to get an anger out that's been pent up. Sweat glistened off their tan skin, discarding their shirts minutes ago— not going past me or Nesta's notice. The golden sun beamed down on them like a spotlight as they battled, swords clashing and slamming down onto the others, they were uncontrolled and savage, so far from the routine maneuvers and clever counters.
"What'd he do this time?" I ask, propping my elbows on my knees and leaning my chin into my hands, boredom enveloping me with open arms.
"He's not paying any attention to me." She huffs and I freeze. "I went as far as to try and give him head this morning and he outright ignored me," Nesta grumbled, picking at her nails. My confusion doubled over.
"Azriel's doing the same," I mumbled, sitting up to look at her confused. "He won’t look at me and will barely even talk to me," I explain and she glares at the two men on the mat, her stare so deathly I thought lightning might strike down on our mates.
"There's no way they've turned celibate right?" Nesta creased her brows and I snort at the idea alone.
"Them two? No way." I shake my head, leaning back into my chair.
"Maybe we should contact Feyre, perhaps Rhys has something to do with this." I offer.
"The three of them always seem to be up to something." She glowered.
"I'll be right back unless you want to come to the River house with me?" I ask. She shakes her head no and I nod, understanding.
I winnow straight into the foyer of the River House. Feyre who was sitting in the living room looked more than pissed. She glanced at me but wasn’t shocked when I suddenly appeared in her home. "Is Rhys ignoring you?" I sigh and she nods with a frown. "Where is he?" I glance around the sitting room as if the High Lord might be hiding.
"Out with Nyx," She kicks the toddler's toy by her foot weakly.
"What the hel is going on?" I sit beside her on the couch.
"They're doing a bet." She rolls her eyes. "Who can ‘hold out’ the longest." She makes a quotation gesture around her words and I scoff.
"You're kidding." My jaw nearly drops.
"Nope. They thought it'd be the only thing they could beat Azriel at, so you probably have it the worst." She huffs. "Stupid Illyrian pride." The high lady uttered. I'm going to strangle my mate.
"So they’re doing a sex ban on each other." I scratch the back of my head in astonishment.
"Sounds typical." She hums.
"I'm going to fix this. We’re going to make them lose." I stand from my seat. "Put on your sluttiest outfit and get Nyx a babysitter," I order her, an idea blooming in my head. "They might be prideful but not even Rhys can resist a wanting female," I explain and a feline smile curves over her lips.
I had told Nesta the same as Feyre, dress in something her mate can’t resist her in, drive him mad. We both left training before it was over. The males didn't bother noticing so we didn't say goodbye.
I took my time in choosing an outfit. The idea of Azriel's pride being more important than so much as looking at me made me beyond furious. If he wanted to ignore me over a stupid bet then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. I selected a lingerie set that was a cobalt blue, his favorite color to see me in, due to it matching the color of his siphons, it was some possessive nature to have me dressed in a color that so clearly connected me to him.
I put the set on, delicate lace and soft mesh that he's yet to see, the kind I know he loves to rip off. I put on a white nightgown over the garments, sheer enough to still see the sapphire underwear but also opaque enough to prompt curiosity. I leave my hair down, I don't mess with it at all. He likes it down, and likes to run his hands through it. Another thing I won't let him do until he admits to losing this stupid wager between him and his brothers. I put a thin garter on my thigh, the only blue piece fully visible.
I run my fingers along a shelf of perfumes, selecting the one I usually wore when we went on dates, reminding him of those nights he'd run the tip of his nose along the column of my throat and smell that insatiable scent. I sprayed it on me, but also misted his reading chair with it, he couldn't escape the thought of me if he tried. A devious smile curved my lips as I placed the perfume back into its rightful place.
The front door of the house opens and I freeze. I know it's him. I grin and exit our bedroom, padding down the stairs until I'm just across the hall from him. His hair was pushed back and he was still glistening in sweat. Gods, he looked so perfect it was hard to stay mad. But when he didn't bother glancing at me all that rage returned.
A shadow swirled up my thigh and I allowed it to travel around the garter. Another zipped toward me, curving around my waist as if to recognize what I was wearing. I smiled down at the dark tendrils and they zipped away, quickly returning to their master and brushing up his wings, those perfect and large wings I needed my hands on. Shadows curved around his ear, telling him all about what I was wearing and immediately his gaze snapped to mine.
Those hazel eyes finally came into contact with my own. And gods how nice it was to be seen again. I remained strong. I gave him a gentle smile and walked closer.
"What are you doing?" His eyes followed me, that familiar attentiveness I missed so much returning.
"What do you mean?" I tilt my head innocently.
"Why are you dressed like that." His hands fist at his sides and I allow his eyes to drift everywhere.
"The nightgown was a gift from the boutique in The Rainbow, on the house after I bought all those presents for solstice," I explain, the lie easy on my tongue, I had bought this for our anniversary which was only a few weeks from now, but seeing that utterly desperate look on his face made showing him earlier worth it. "Do you not like it?" I do a small twirl and his knuckles turn white as the dress flows up and reveals a portion of my underwear.
"It's see-through." He gritted out and I frowned, looking down at myself.
"Is it? I hadn't realized. It's hard to tell in the darkness of our bedroom I suppose." I shrug, looking back up to him.
"It's pretty, just wear a slip under it if we leave the house." He hums casually, then brushes past me and goes into the library. Anger simmers inside of me as I hear the door close. How had that not worked? How much more direct could I get?
I sigh and quickly follow after him. Opening the door and shutting it behind me. He sat in the leather chair, as expected, book in his hands.
I wandered the room absent-minded, peering at the shelves with curious eyes, plotting my next move.
I smile at the idea I get and begin reaching for a book far out of my reach.
“Az? Can you help me?” I mumble, but my reaching causes my dress to lift so when he looks over at me he’s met with the most tempting sight he had ever seen. His movements were rigid as he stood up, coming closer but I didn’t move out of his way, just continuing to jump for the book. “The green one,” I gestured to the dusty spine and he nods, easily grabbing it for me but once I stop reaching for it I settle flat onto my feet, the curve of my ass coming back to press against his hips. He let out a quiet, low grunt that I wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t right behind me.
I turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. He holds the book I had no interest in reading out to me, his white knuckling grip proof of his restraint.
“Thanks, Az,” I take the book and he nods with a grunt before going back to his chair, sinking into it with a slightly defeated demeanor, his pitiful expression making me smile.
I bound over to his chair, settling myself on the armrest, my legs draped over his as he continued to ignore me. I place a hand on his bare shoulder and begin massaging the tight area.
"You're sore Az," I mumble. "Maybe we should take a bath?" I tilt my head. His face remains stoic, but he is gripping his book like the edge of a cliff.
I move my hands lower, to his shoulder blade where I could knead the knot of muscle there. "What do you think? I'll even wash your wings." I brush my fingers over where his wings began at his muscular back. He jolted, his book slamming shut and his head whipping to me with a wide lust-filled gaze. "Is that a yes?" I chuckle. He only narrows his eyes, like a silent interrogation. "Az, I'm going to need some words." I place a hand on his cheek.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" He says through his teeth.
"Doing what?" My voice was innocent, if he didn't know any better he'd be buying it.
"I just know those training sessions are so long and hard, I thought it'd be nice to reward my mate." My selected words weren't helping his case.
“What do you know?” He says the words like a threat and I giggle nervously.
“Are you alright Az? You’ve been acting weird all morning,” I observe and a muscle in his jaw feathers as he tightens it shut, I run my fingers down that very jaw, feeling it flex under my touch as he attempts to read me. “Are you worried about something? You know I’m always willing to help you relieve your stress,” I hum, slowly slipping into his lap, straddling over his hips and his eyes just follow the action, admiring the way I fit so perfectly on top of him.
“No, love I’m fine,” He defends and I dip down, trailing kisses down his neck, finding his pulse point and swiping my tongue over the area.
“You sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?” I tease my hips over his erect length, painfully straining against his pants. I return to the area of his neck, sucking hard as he attempts a reply.
“No, I, fuck— love, I’m fine,” He curses and a smile curves my lips in triumph.
“Alright,” I pull from his neck. “If there’s anything you want me to do I’ll do it, okay?” I stress my words with a slight lift to my brows and he nods hesitantly. “I think I’m going to take a nap, why don’t you join me? It could help call your nerves?” I offer and he nods, thinking it a good idea to sleep through the rest of this stupid bet until one of his brothers gives in but by gods was he wrong.
I get off his lap and grab his hands after he sets his book down, pulling him up and then guiding him to our bedroom with an effortless sway of my hips they had his hands tightening on mine.
Once we were in the comfort of our bedroom he shut the door behind us and I let go of his hands in favor of grabbing the straps of my nightgown and dipping them from my shoulders, allowing the sheer fabric to pool at the floor, revealing my lingerie set to him entirely.
“What are you doing?” He grits through his teeth, I look back at him and I nearly laugh. He was backed up against the door like prey trapped in a lion's den. I smirk at him and crawl into our bed.
“That nightgown is too itchy to sleep in, this is much better,” I sigh and he swallows thickly, slowly approaching our bed like it might explode at any sudden movement.
He eventually strips down to his boxers and slides into the sheets beside me, I waste little time before throwing myself over him like a second mattress.
My legs intertwine with his, my arms wrapping around the back of his neck, my body pressed to his. He flexed at the feeling of my breasts brushing against his bare chest.
“Are you always this touchy?” He said and I asked, pulling him impossibly closer.
“You don’t like it?” I feign a pout and he pales, brows creasing.
“No, I’m sorry my love I just, I hadn’t noticed it until today,” He stumbles over his words, making my frown turn into a sickeningly sweet smirk.
“You’re so cute Az,” I mumbled, leaning up and pecking his lips tenderly. “I love you,” I whisper so softly that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But he did, and it wasn’t the lingerie, or the perfume, or even kissing his neck that made him snap, no, it was those three words that he thought he’d never hear romantically, and I just gave them to him so casually he thought the world stopped spinning for a moment.
“Oh, fuck it,” He grumbled before crashing his lips onto mine, the tension leaving my body as he rolls over me and settles between my legs. His kiss was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, he had been craving me all day and ignoring that feeling but now it was all crashing down onto him at once and it was impossible to get enough. His kiss was all-consuming as his thumb came to my chin and opened my mouth manually, his tongue slipping inside without forethought. My tongue met his just as quickly, they didn’t battle but they danced around each other, a steady balance of give and take between us.
“You have no idea how much I need to fuck you,” He pants onto my lips and I smile.
“What are you waiting for?” I tease and he shakes his head.
“No, it’s not making love, I need to fuck you,” He warns and a primal part of me loves the tone of his voice, the neediness of his words.
“C’mon Az don’t be shy, fuck me already,” I plead and he moves from my lips down to my neck, his mouth mapping every expanse of skin he can find.
“You’re evil,” He sighs against my chest as I arch my breasts into his face.
“You ignored me all morning, you’re the evil one,” I claim and he smirks.
“I’m sorry baby, let me make it up to you,” He hums, then moves lower, so much lower until his breath was fanning against my inner thigh and he was leaving hickeys trailing up to my heat. His eyes glow golden as he looks up at me, pure lust as his expression.
"Please." I nod my head and he's like a fucking beast ready to have a full-course meal.
He wastes no time, not one second was I not being pleasured. Scarred fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, pulling at them with a force that makes them tear. His breath fans over my slick and I arch up, grabbing onto the sheets to keep myself steady.
He lifts a leg over his shoulder and a long swipe of his perfect tongue passes through my folds. It all happened so quickly, how soaked I was for him. I could feel him smiling against my cunt, as if he was craving the taste of me all day and finally got it on his tongue, his tongue that was swirling over my clit in tight circling motions.
I mewled, my back arching as fingers swiped through my sex, lubing himself with my ecstasy before entering two long fingers where I needed him most.
"Oh fuck," I breathed out, my head falling back against the shelf, it was all so fast, so needy.
"You’re so perfect like this, spread out like a good girl who can’t wait to be eaten," His baritone voice against the apex of my thighs reverberated up my spine making me shiver.
"Mhm," I nod helplessly, relishing in the feeling of his scars rubbing against my sensitive walls, those scars that added so much to the feel of his fingers inside of me, toying with that spongy bundle of nerves that was so relentless for more.
I moaned his name repeatedly, grinding down on his hand and his face as he sucked and licked at my clit. The stimulation was too much and I was hurdling toward a release.
"Az, I'm gonna—" My breath gets caught in my throat as he lays his tongue flat against my folds, his nose digging into my clit.
"I know baby, go ahead." Cold air fanned against my slick and my hands twined into his hair, forcing his face into my cunt as I ground my hips up onto his tongue, matching the thrusts of his fingers as that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. He groaned at the feeling of me shoving his face into my heat, letting out a grunt as he ruts his hips down onto the bed, needing to be inside of me.
"Cum on my tongue." His voice was a demand, the kind of voice that made people fear him, the kind of voice that had me unraveling on his fingers, just like he ordered.
A string of moans escaped me, my head lolling back as euphoric waves crashed into me. He supported my hips since my legs were rendered useless from shaking too damned much. He gave gentle kitten licks to my now overstimulated cunt, allowing me to gently come down. He slowly lifted from between my thighs, slick coating his lips and he licked them clean, as if savoring the taste of me.
He brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself as I threw my arms around his neck carelessly, pulling his weight down onto me, needing to be entirely consumed by him as I sampled myself off his tongue.
“Fuck me Az,” I murmur.
“I won’t be able to control myself,” He shakes his head but I didn’t care, I needed more, needed his heavy cock sheathed inside of me.
“I don’t want control, I want you feral,” I beg and something primal sparks in his gaze, a slow smirk forming over his lips.
“On your stomach then,” He orders and my chest fills with both nerves and excitement as I do as he says, flipping over and hiking up onto my knees, my pussy throbbing in anticipation as I straddle my legs, my body forming a perfect crescent moon as I arched my ass up, arms supporting the rest of my body so I don’t fall into the pillows.
His hands come to my hips, dragging from my waist to my thighs, over the curve of my ass, then repeating. He was savoring the feel of me, the view I was so generously offering him.
The rustling behind me hinted that he had freed himself from his boxers and I was proven correct when his leaking tip pressed into my folds. I whimpered at the feel of his head running through the expanse of my pussy, pre-cum mixing with my arousal, the natural lubricant preparing him for his entrance.
He leans over me, his chest slick with sweat as his lips come beside my ear, pressing kisses to my shoulder. “You going to be good?” He hums and I nod with a whine. Shadows twine around my wrists, bounding them down onto the bed forcefully. “Three taps if it’s too much alright?” He says and I nod, closing my eyes in a slow blink, mentally preparing myself as he aligns his cock to my slit.
Slowly, he pushes himself in and I take every inch with a never-ending stream of euphoria. His movements started slow but he was right, he couldn’t control himself and his thrusts quickly turned impossible to keep up with.
A moan tore from my throat as he finally managed to stuff himself completely inside of me, his balls slapping against my sopping folds, the arousal dripping down my purple-marked thighs. “Az,” I mewl, throwing my head back as he continues his relentless pace, his thrusts rough and hungry and everything I had ever craved.
“M’yours, I’m all yours,” I sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the intense feeling of him nestled so deep inside of me. “That’s right, my perfect slut to ruin,” He grunts and my back bows into his chest at the words, making him hit me deeper. He curses and goes so much faster at the new angle, every other drive into me left a soft whimper slipping from his throat, his noises so quiet yet so close to my ear and allowing me to hear just how much I was affecting him.
I clamped down on his thick length, slowly grinding my hips down onto his, gradually growing quicker and meeting each of his thrusts.
If I thought he was savage on the training mats then he must’ve been untamable when pummeling every inch of him into my puffy pussy that pulsed at each movement.
“Gods, Azriel,” I scream his name, his pace relentless as my mind loses thought, becoming incoherent to anything but the way he shoved himself into me, past that bundle of nerves and kissing up against my cervix. A ring of my arousal formed on the base of his cock. “That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” He sighs, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear and making me squeeze around him, needy for more.
He loves the visual of me splayed out for him, swallowing his cock, hips clapping against mine each time he rams into me with an unmatched force, each of them landing perfectly on the tip of him grinding against the most sensitive part of me as I convulsed, my legs spreading wider as I sink lower, making his thrusts faster, harder. Tears roll down my cheeks as I continue to take it, taking all of him without hesitation. “Your perfect fucking pussy is so— fuck s’gripping me so tight,” He grinds out and I know from the underlying whine of his voice that he’s close, and thank gods for it cause I doubted I’d last another moment with my sanity.
“Az, please, please,” I cry, unable to say anything else as he continues to hit home every, single, time. “So full, Az,” I murmur, my head heavy with lust as he fucks me senseless. “Yeah? All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?” He purrs beside my ear and I nod fervently, agreeing to whatever he wants me to do, I just needed more.
Shadows listen to my silent request and brush down my stomach teasingly, feeling the way Azriel pumped into me so deep you could see him in my abdomen, the silky darkness curling downward and coming to my clit, making me gasp in ecstasy.
His fingers join his shadows, scooping through my folds and gathering my arousal before smearing it along my clit and then rubbing it harshly in tight little circles that left me defenseless. My entire body obeyed his touch as his ministrations continued. “Fuck, need to come Az, please,” I whine, feeling that coil tighten until it was bordering on snapping. “Come for me, wanna see you milk my cock,” He nips at my shoulder and thrusts forcefully inside of me, his head ramming into my cervix so very close to my womb, his fingers dig into my clit rougher, his calloused fingers providing so much more friction. Saliva pools in my mouth as my orgasm crests and I finally feel that immense relief I’ve been craving all morning. “I’m coming, m’comin—” I was cut off by a lewd moan, rapture surging up and down my body as I gush around his cock, white-hot pleasure consuming me.
I lay beneath him as I slowly come down from my climax but his movements don’t cease as I jolted in over stimulation, his shadows eased off my clit allowing relief but my pussy wasn’t given the same treatment, he continued to bury himself inside of me, harder, faster, deeper.
I whine, not daring to reject him like his perfect doll, clenching at the sheets as he ruts into my aching cunt. “Fill me up, Az, want your cum so bad,” I whimper and he smiles against my neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up ‘til it’s leaking out? Stuff you full?” He asks and I mewl, lewd sounds rolling off my tongue without permission.
“Mhm,” I nod, writhing against the sheets at the intense feeling. I clench hard around him and he twitched, letting out a low grunt and without another warning, his warm seed released and spurted from his cock, into my cunt. He moaned, his sounds equally arousing as his movements inside of me. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” He pants, hands roaming along my waist as he slowly pulls himself from my slit, a whimper leaving my throat at the emptiness he left me with. He stares down at the apex of my thighs, where his cum seeped out of me, mixing with mine.
I flip onto my back and stare up at him panting with a drunken smile, my pussy throbbing as I come down from that stimulation.
I tremble as his fingers brush up my inner thighs, gathering any liquid that escaped me and then pushing them back into my cunt with ease. I gasped, my back arching, it was too much, it was all too much. And I loved every moment of it.
He lazily fingered my pussy, his languid movements making me babble in protest. “I know baby but we can’t let any of this go to waste, can we?” He hums and I shake my head no with a pout. “That’s right, m’ gonna fuck you all day, make you feel so good,” He said and my body tremors at the promise of his voice, and I knew immediately walking would be impossible tomorrow.
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ham1lton · 11 hours
Text
glue song.
pairings: oscar piastri x childhood gf!reader.
faceclaim: rayan.xasan on ig <3
summary: after looking at some old photo albums, you stumble across an old photograph of your first love. you post it online and internet sleuths attempt to track him down.
author’s note: this was based on the interaction between that one girl and the other girl she met on the cruise. if you know, you know. i thought that would be a cute smau. ignore any spelling mistakes pls 😁😝
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liked by user1, oscarpiastri and 124,893 others.
yourusername: jetlag isn’t too bad when your besties takes you straight from the airport to your favourite restaurant.
user19: omg is she going to meet oscar?
-> user2: she had a life before oscar lmfao. it could be a brand trip or a holiday.
bestie1: girl u almost fell asleep into ur ramen. how embarrassing 😬
-> yourusername: don’t expose me !! i was tired and the ramen looked comfy.
-> bestie2: it’s okay!! that’s why we’re here to stop you being enticed by sleepy noodles. <3
user9: where did u get ur hat!! so cute!!
-> yourusername: i made it myself!! i can send u the pattern if you’d like?
-> user9: yes please!! :)
-> yourusername: dmed u the pattern love! 🫶🏾💕
user6: she’s actually so cute. her and oscar need to date.
*liked by oscarpiastri*
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liked by landonorris, bestie1 and 173,928 others.
yourusername: shout out to oscar from australia. ig he isn’t too bad of a date.
oscarpiastri: not too bad? high praise from you.
-> yourusername: you know it 🤭
-> oscarpiastri: i’m assuming this means date 2 is on the cards?
-> yourusername: … perhaps
-> oscarpiastri: text me :)
-> user67: i feel like we’re witnessing intruding on a moment here…
user1: NOOOO WE LOST HER
user7: at least oscar is a good photographer.
-> user8: i think she’s just insanely photogenic 😭
user9: curly haired y/n is my fav y/n!!!
bestie2: orange is cute but the red top would have been cuter.
-> yourusername: i’ll wear it tomorrow just for you <3
-> oscarpiastri: not even for me?
-> bestie1: back off koala 🤨👎🏼 she was ours first!
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liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 308,789 others.
oscarpiastri: update from oscar from australia and y/n from (your country).
landonorris: not you soft launching?!
-> user1: you wouldn’t know what thats like would you? chronically online and single 🤣
-> landonorris: HELLO???? 😭😭
logansargeant: where is my thanks for letting you know about the tweet 🤨
-> oscarpiastri: thanks.
-> logansargeant: not good enough. i was thinking maybe a mansion? or at least a private jet. perhaps even a small country….
user7: THE LAST PIC!!)?2&292!
-> user12: do i wanna be him or her….
bestie2: told u the red was the best option yourusername 💕 ur glowing!!!
-> bestie1: BOOOOOOO 👎🏼 (u look good!!)
yourusername: when did you even take the first pic? i didn’t even notice 😭
-> oscarpiastri: when you were explaining the lore behind the hunger games series. you’re cute when you’re passionate.
-> user98: ‘YOU’RE CUTE WHEN UR PASSIONATE’ IM SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES TONIGHT 😭😭😭
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
taglist: @23victoria @alexmarie29 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @cuteskz @luckyladycreator2 @purplephantomwolf @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @moviecritc @wildflowermarns @lichterfee @d3kstar @f1kenzzz @ravisinghs-wife @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @ajvaix @au-ghosttype @thehistoryone @raevyng @colmathgames2 @iloveyou3000morgan @namgification @formulaal @firelily-mimi @lemon-lav @67-angelofthelordme-67 @snapeeballsack @bernelflo @mehrmonga @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @lavisenri @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @seokjinkismet @dhanihamidi @tallrock35 @f1fan676 @imsiriuslyreal @samantha-chicago @f1withleire @kamabokogonpachro (wanna be removed? let me know via ask! want to join? taglist is in my bio!)
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luveline · 13 hours
Text
—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k
You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.
You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.
It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.
I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.
Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.
You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.
You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—
“Hi.”
You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.
“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.
Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.
(He’s wearing glasses!)
You’d thought he was pretty before.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”
You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.
He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”
“You think so?” you ask, surprised.
“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”
You send Hotch anything he wants to see.
“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”
You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”
He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”
“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”
You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”
Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”
You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.
“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.
“Come on, there has to be something.”
His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”
“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”
You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.
524 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 16 hours
Text
brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)
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in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.
word count: 3k
content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m really not.”
“No, but you are.”
“It would be for work and work only—”
“I don’t care.”
Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 
“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”
Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 
“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.
They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 
The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 
A mean one, at that.
So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.
“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”
Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 
“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”
Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.
“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”
“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”
She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 
“Fine. Read me the question.”
A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 
“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”
Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.
“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 
“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”
She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”
“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”
“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”
“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”
Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.
“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”
She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.
“Well, what works for you?”
She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”
“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 
He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 
“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”
She nods.
“Withgoing underwear in public?��
“Mhm.”
“Pussy spanking?”
“Yeah.”
“Nipple wax play?”
“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”
“Paddling?”
“I actually haven’t done that one before.”
Harry’s eyebrows raise. 
“No?”
She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”
“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”
“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”
“Is it?” 
She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 
But she doesn’t.
Not for a second.
So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.
“Do you want to try it now?”
By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.
“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”
Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.
“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”
She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.
“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.
“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”
Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.
“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”
Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.
“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”
But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”
In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.
“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 
The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 
“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”
“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”
“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”
“‘m not—”
Smack—
“You are.”
She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.
“On your belly.”
This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 
“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.
“Green, sir.”
“Do you still want to try the paddle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”
“Red or licorice, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.
The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.
“How was that?” he asks. 
“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”
A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 
“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”
When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 
“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”
Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 
“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”
Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.
“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”
Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 
“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”
And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.
He rolls his eyes.
“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 
She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.
“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”
“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”
“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now you want to cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”
She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 
She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 
“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”
She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.
“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”
She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 
“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”
“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”
“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”
“Y-yes, sir—”
“Ask for permission first, kitty.”
“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”
She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.
“Hold it.”
“Sir—”
“Hold it, brat.”
Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.
It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 
He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 
“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 
Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”
He swallows. 
He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.
And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.
Six, if she’s lucky.
534 notes · View notes
naomiarai · 2 days
Text
𝔸𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 — 𝙻. 𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐
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╔. ■ .═══════╗
➤ in which you’ve grown a liking to the roommate of the guy you tutor.
╚═══════. ■ .╝
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➤ PAIRING — heeseung × fem! reader
➤ GENRE — romance, smut, fluff, comedy if you squint, f2l, college au
➤ WARNINGS — mentions of drinking, dom! heeseung, big dick! heeseung, sub! reader, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty), oral (m.rec), vaginal fingering, doggy, manhandling, lots of kissing, creampie, multiple orgasms, spanking, slight nipple play, kind of public sex?/ semi public sex. [ lmk if i missed anything ]
➤ WC — 6.6K
➤ AUTHOR — reblogs and feedback are appreciated! (not proofread)
➤ [ enha masterlist ] [ taglist ]
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You lift your head from the fiction book it was practically buried in, taking in your surroundings. The cafeteria was huddled with people, either stuffing their faces or babbling too much to care about their cold food. Reaching for your spoon, you fit the last of your rice into your mouth, chewing far too slow, with a sudden foul expression. You stare at Beomgyu, who weirdly stumbles his way towards you. What an idiot.
He makes his way to chair beside you, carelessly dragging it to sit down. You swallow expectedly, pulling a poker face. Beomgyu’s the last person you’d talk to, truly because he was a complete imbecile. The kind that if you were to tell him that he was one, he'd start fake crying and stick his very blue tongue out. (Yes he almost always has a blue fucking lollipop stuck in his mouth, and it TOTALLY irks you.)
Clearly not a big fan of him. So why would said Beomgyu come up to you?
He rotates his chair to completely face yours, letting out a deep breath; smiling at you uneasily. You arch your eyebrow, holding back a snort at how stupid he looks eyeing you.
“Uh..hi.. I’m Beomgyu, Choi—” he says; getting cut off by you before he could finish.
“Choi Beomgyu, I know,” you drawl. Who doesn't at this point?
He swallows nervously; eyes wandering away from yours, “Look, I know this is totally out of character for me, and I would kill to go back but, I kind of need your help” he whispers as if to make sure no one hears him.
Your face contorts into disbelief and confusion. Thats odd.
“Help? Why would you need my help?, don’t you have your buddies for that?”
Beomgyu's nervous, fidgeting with his fingers on the table. “Well, they could try, but it won't really help,” he confesses. “My grades are too low, I can't keep up the act of being okay, you know?” he mutters lowly.
You press your tongue against your cheek, getting what he’s trying to say.
“So, you're asking if I can tutor you?" you clarify, waiting for his nod. He quietly agrees. While tutoring isn’t exactly your specialty, you’ve given it a shot in the past. You could easily say no and leave him without help, but the opportunity to earn some extra cash is tempting enough to give it a go.
“Alright, what's the wage?” you ask in a relaxed tone. Beomgyu seems relieved, attempting to hide his grin.
“Thinking $10 per hour?” he suggests tentatively.
“Not quite what I had in mind,” you respond, unimpressed. Come on Beomgyu, you’re pretty loaded.
“How about $15?” he proposes without hesitation.
“Hmm, on second thought..”
“$25!” he interjects, irritation creeping into his voice.
You smile, content with the improved offer. “Deal.”
“Great, we can meet at my apartment, I just moved in last month; I need to be independent apparently” he says quickly. “Just a heads up, I have a roommate. I totally had to fight him for the apartment, so we’re rooming. He won't be a bother, we'll just have the place to ourselves in my room, he’s never home anyway”.
You nod in understanding and inquire, “Is he from around here?” Beomgyu nods and responds, “Yeah, his name's Heeseung, you know, the one thats’s boring AF?”
You take a brief pause, running your tongue over your lips as you wrack your brain for any sign of a Heeseung among your classmates. Surprisingly, you can’t seem to place him, which is unusual since you typically have a good grasp of everyone in your year. It's possible that Heeseung is just someone who prefers to stay under the radar, which might explain why you haven’t heard of him.
“Weird, I don’t know a Heeseung in our year” you say with confused tone.
Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes rolling in dismissal. “He’s always been like that. Anyway, I’m only still rooming with him because, well, he's almost never home and I can’t cook” he says, eyes bored.
The lunch bell rings loudly, abruptly halting your conversation. You glance at Beomgyu and manage a small smile. “I’ll drop by tomorrow; today's just too busy, you inform him. He gives a thumbs-up in response. With that settled, you start clearing your tray.
╰┈➤
Exiting the elevator, you walk down the corridor, each step bringing you closer to Beomgyu's door. He's waiting for you, his dark hair easy to spot in the hallway. You approach him, greeting him by waving your hand.
You quickly kick off your sneakers and step in, scanning the area with a keen eye. Everything looks neat enough, but the sight of a mop leaning against the wall and the freshly mopped floor makes you wonder. Did he just clean up right before you got here? Seems likely, considering he didn't bother to sweep before mopping. Looks like cleaning isn't really his thing.
Beomgyu gestures towards his room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You follow him inside, and as you step in, you’re greeted by a burst of color. The walls are painted a bold red, adorned with pictures and posters of basketball stars and iconic moments. You can't help but admire the shiny pictures that catch the light, giving the room a vibrant energy. “Cool room” you say, feeling drawn to the bright atmosphere created by all the basketball themed decor.
“Thanks” he says proudly, glancing up at his room.
You glance over at him, smoothly pulling out one of the chairs positioned by the desk, then lowering yourself onto its burgundy red cushion. Beomgyu follows your lead, exhaling audibly as he takes a seat beside you. He picks up a book from his cluttered desk and flips through it, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eventually, he slides it over to you, saying quietly, ‘I don't understand this.’
Examining the content, you meet Beomgyu's gaze with a bored expression. “Beomgyu, this is really basic," you remark casually, flipping through the pages without much interest. You know you’re being fairly annoying saying that. But if Beomgyu wants you to tutor him, he’ll have to deal with it.He gives you a dramatic eye roll and clenches his teeth, interrupting you with a sarcastically sweet tone, “Can we just get to the point already?” You stifle a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Alright, alright”.
After spending about two hours tutoring, you're ready to wrap things up. Despite Beomgyu's jokes sneaking in here and there, you feel good about how it went. Plus, getting paid $50 is a nice bonus for your time.
You lean back in your chair, letting out a tired yawn. “Well, I guess it's time to head out,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. Beomgyu nods in agreement, rising from his seat. Just then, the sound of the front door being unlocked catches you off guard, causing you to glance at Beomgyu for reassurance. He seems unfazed. Oh. It must be his roommate, Heeseung, if you remember correctly.
You don’t think much of it, heading out of his room towards the door, Beomgyu following close behind. Glancing at the hand holding the door still, you stop on your tracks, awkwardly waiting for this Heeseung to enter. The soft creak of the door’s release draws your attention, as your eyes meet his, times seems to momentarily halt. Were people supposed to be this good looking or was it the lack of love in your life? God, he’s mesmerizing.
“_______”? You hear Beomgyu say, as your mind cuts your train of thoughts. “This is Heeseung, the one I was talking about yesterday” he tells you as you nod quietly in his direction, eyes still fixated on Heeseung.
Heeseung eyes you up and down, humming when Beomgyu introduces you as the girl from class who tutors him. You look familiar. You smile shyly, legs heading towards the end of the door. But what you caught on his face just as you stepped out brings red to your cheeks.
He fucking smirked.
It leaves you pondering, as you mutter a ‘bye’ to Beomgyu, not bothering to look at him. What was that? Did he do that to fluster you? You shouldn’t overthink it. Maybe he does that all time. Whatever, you’re not going to dwell on it. But it does leave you with more enthusiasm to come over to tutor Beomgyu. You’ll hope the only thing you’ll do here is teach.
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It’s been about a month since you’ve been tutoring Beomgyu. You’re overall pretty satisfied with how it’s been going; you could see genuine improvement with him.
Other than the fact that you’re effort is going on the right track, you might also be taking advantage of your time there. Your suspiciously long ‘study breaks’ might have not always been for the said purpose. They might have been to make small talk with his roommate; when he arrived home earlier than usual. Or when the times up and you have to leave, delaying your departure so you can see his face atleast once a day. You can’t deny the attraction. Sure, the small talk might be slightly awkward but you atleast get to know him.
You walk out of Beomgyu’s room, on one of your so called ‘breaks’. Today's a good day. Heeseung’s home early!
You make your way towards the kitchen; you must say the counters are well done. They’re like a distraction if it gets awkward talking to him As the door to Heeseung's room swings open, the subtle movement sends a shiver down your spine, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You straighten up, hands crawling up a cabinet to find a glass for water.
You feel his figure behind you, somehow so close yet so far. “On break?” He asks, voice raspy. Must’ve took a nap. “Yeah” you mumble taking ahold of a glass. You turn around, drinking in his figure; oh fuck he’s in a tank top.
You almost stumble walking forward to fill your glass, just when you feel him grab your glass, “I’ll fill it for you. Grab me one too will ya?” he says grinning. Oh does he have to smile like that infront of you?
Nodding slowly, you walk back, getting another glass and handing it over to him. Heeseung mutters a ‘thank you’, proceeding to fill it up.
“Beomgyu tells me you don’t recognize me. I sit behind you in chemistry, silly , i was waiting for you to realise” he says with slight confusion laced into his words.
Your eyes become slightly wide, imagining yourself inside chemistry class. It ticks your brain. Of course, that’s why you must have looked familiar to him. “Right, sorry I never caught that”.
Before he can say anything you hear Beomgyu’s whiny voice calling your name, indicating it’s been far too long since you’ve been gone.
Now you’re on your way to Beomgyu’s again. It’s a Saturday, but he requested you to come. Just as you enter your cab, you hear the loud shrieking sound of thunder, indicating rain. Getting in, you sink into the cozy cab seat, the sound of rain tapping on the windows and occasional flashes of lightning outside creating a quite yet filled atmosphere. You gaze outside with a slight pout. It’s quite late as your leaving now, you hope the rain calms down by the time you have to go home.
Stepping out of the cab, rain pours down relentlessly. You dash towards the elevator, hands shielding your head from the downpour. Inside, you quickly fix your hair in the mirrored walls, hoping the rain doesn’t worsen. Looking into the mirror like walls of the elevator, you fix up your hair. God, you really hope the rain calms down.
The elevator’s soft robotic hum faded as you stepped into the familiar corridor, your feet moving automatically towards the well known door. With a sigh, you rang the doorbell, the sound cutting through the quiet. Taking off your sandals, you huff, waiting.
You hear feet walk up behind the door, unlocking it. But you don’t expect to meet eyes with Heeseung, white earphones stuck in his eyes and a song paused on his phone.
“Beomgyu’s not home..? It’s a Saturday anyway, you tutor him on Saturdays too? Geez” he says as you stand still, digesting what he just said.
Before you can answer him, your phone buzzes, a notification.
[Choi Beomgyu], 7:14 PM :
heyy im so sorry but uh i forgot i had plans today.. youve probably reached by now and its raining like crazy and I don't think its gonna stop so you can stay over for the night in my room, i’ll be at a friends’. use one of my tshirts or smtg. also heeseung's home so you wont get killed at night! again sorry!! </3
You internally roll your eyes. Seriously? But you can’t stay mad at him, he seems kind of genuine.
“I think I’ll have to crash here tonight,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly as you offer a tentative smile. As if on cue, Heeseung pulls the door open wide, ushering you inside with a dramatic gesture. “Beomgyu asked me to use his room, kay?” you explain, feeling a sudden surge of liveliness.
Heeseung chuckles at you, his eyes fixed on you as he watches you set down on your bag on the couch heading into Beomgyu’s room. You still feel captivated each time you enter his room; you wonder what Heeseung’s room looks like, you’ve only ever seen glimpses of it whenever he came out of it. Black walls or something.
You look around for his closest, quickly landing your eyes on the half-black, half-red wardrobe. Grabbing the handle and tugging it open, you start to look for t-shirts, thats’s something comfortable. And maybe some shorts as well. Yeah, you might look a bit awkward in it but it’s just for one night.
You frown your face, unable to locate any t-shirts. God, where does this man keep his things?
“What’re you looking for so interesting?” you hear a familiar voice say, flinching at it. You turn around to find Heeseung, arms crossed leaning against one of the open doors of the wardrobe. Dangerously close to you, you must say.
“B..Beomgyu asked me to use his t-shirt or something for the night” you explain, licking your lips. “But I just can’t find any”, you say with a annoyed sigh.
Was it just you or did you imagine the look of distate on Heeseung’s when you mentioned wearing Beomgyu’s t-shirt?
“They’re all in the wash, the idiot probably forgot, use mine,” he tells you, staring into your eyes with miniscule smile.
You can’t help but feel shocked by his offer, causing your heart to beat faster. It may seem insignificant, borrowing clothes, but it’s Heeseung. Your voice feels trapped in your throat, a rush of excitement running through your veins. It just feels special when it comes from him. But you definitely can’t say no, can you?
You reply in a quiet voice, trying not to seem overly enthusiastic, “If you’re completely sure...” He responds with a gentle smile while gently tugging at your wrist. Surprised by the gesture, you let out a soft gasp but ultimately decide to go along with it.
Entering his room, directly opposite Beomgyu’s, the matte black walls catch your eye, imbuing the space with a sleek, modern vibe. The abundance of books scattered; if arranged with proper shelving and space could make a pretty mini library.
As you find yourself in the midst of his room, you can't help but admire the coolness of both of your rooms. “You guys have such cool rooms” you exclaim, watching as Heeseung frantically searches through his closet. You hear his echoed chuckle as you walk towards him, taking a peek at his closet. He seems to have just destroyed its neatness. But you do notice the many t-shirts laying flat and wrinkled on the floor.
“There’s a like a billion one of those t-shirts you’re searching for on the floor, Lee” you tell him, bending down to pick up the two you see. “And a pair of shorts too” you add. Heeseung hums in response with a grin, sighing as he pulls out a pretty white t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Certainly a little too big for you, sure as hell comfortable. Plus it’s Heeseung’s, makes it all the better.
He turns towards you, holding the t-shirt out in display. “I think you’d look nice in this” he tells you trying to contain a smile sheepishly. Did he do all this searching, messing up his well organised wardrobe, just because he thought this one specific one would look good on you? You would kiss him if you could right now.
You try to stay calm, trying to hide your eagerness as you thank him softly, taking it from him. Turning around, you move to leave; but stop on your tracks when you feel his hand on your wrist stopping you. Instinctively you look back, Heeseung’s face mere inches away from yours. If you moved any closer, your lips would touch his. And you don’t know if that’s a risk you’re willing to take.
“You forgot this” he says,handing you the black shorts, brown orbs still looking into yours. You feel some sort of relief when he says that, quickly taking it from him. “Right” you say in response walking away.
As you walk away, you think about what just happened; would he have kissed you back if you did first? Does he like you like that? Or is it just some occurring tension between you two? You don’t know but you’ll let it play out like this.
Standing before the bathroom mirror, you take a moment to appreciate the comfort and loose fit of your attire. The t-shirt drapes effortlessly over your torso, offering a snug yet relaxed feeling. The shorts fit good at your waist too, thanks to it being elastic. Heeseung was right about thinking it’d look good on you. And again, it’s his.
You step out of the bathroom, slowly walking your way into the living room. You spot Heeseung on je couch, a video game console in his hands and eyes fixated on the TV screen. Stopping on your tracks you watch him, completely not noticing you. From what you’ve seen, he’s not as boring as Beomgyu has told you before. You see a second console on the coffee table. It’s so obvious they play together.
“Mind if I join in?”, you ask, your voice brimming with excitement as you make your way over to the couch where he's lounging. With a playful bounce, you settle yourself down right beside him, looking over at him.
His eyes roam over you, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Is he pleased with how his clothes fit you, or does he see something off? Heeseung’s gulp breaks the tension, and he meets your gaze once more, leaving you uncertain about what his look truly means.
“Do I look weird or something?” you say, laughing awkwardly. Please say no.
He almost immediately denies your assumptions, “No, fuck you don’t,” he says swallowing once more, “You look..good, that’s all” he continues. No, that’s not what he wants to say. He thinks you look hot. But best left inside his head. You internally sigh in relief, thank god. Resuming back to what you said, you ask again giggling, “So can I play?”
He nods his head in agreement, grinning. Bending over to grab the other console, you shuffle into a comfortable seating position, hands on your knees. “Good luckkk” you drawl with confidence. Heeseung scoffs at you with a smile, he’d kiss that attitude out of you but he'll watch you play for now.
“I’ve experienced Beomgyu storming out in anger because he didn't win like five times in a row,” he tells you with a cocky smile. Alright, skilled gamer Heeseung. Although your confidence may have wavered, you refuse to let it affect you. Your main goal is to enjoy yourself during your time here.
“Beomgyu acts like you’re so boring, yet he seems to have pretty good friendship with you” you say softly. Heeseung hums in response, “It’s because I only play with him sometimes, not really so often. He’s just over-dramatic, really” he brushes off.
You nod in understanding, “Let’s play then, shall we?”
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You don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard at someone’s face before. Heeseung’s face when you swiftly went past him and won the game has you breaking into peels of laughter. His face is truly priceless.
“Did that hurt your ego?” you say between soft giggles. Heeseung stares at you, holding back a grin. The way you feel confident after winning over him, entices him; He wants to ruin that confidence, he wants to ruin you. “Beginners luck” he replies instead. You continue to giggle at him, laughter dying down as silence pierces through. It’s peaceful, not awkward at all as the both of you sit in the rather calming quietnesss.
The quiet room suddenly got noisy with your unexpected hiccups. You felt them like tiny jumps in your chest, making you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen, your steps clumsy against the relentless spasms. Opening up the very familiar cupboard, you tap against its inner floor, reaching for a glass. Gasping quietly as you land your feet from tip toeing; you lick your lips, turning to go fill it up.
You’ve always liked this kitchen. It gave you a feeling nostalgia; having such a similar one back at your parents house.
“You enjoyed winning so much didn’t you?” Heeseung says with amusement lacing his words. Gulping down the last of your water with an uncontrollable smile, you nod at him. You like having him slightly worked up. It’s entertaining.
Heeseung walks over towards you, suddenly caging you with his arms. Your hands instinctively grasp at the counter behind you, eyes darting down. His eyes look into yours sharply inching even closer, if you went just a little closer, your noses would touch and at that point you should just kiss. Temptation clouds your mind and ball of confidence strikes you; retrieving your hands from the counter, you pause before connecting your lips to his.
His lips freeze against yours; certainly was not expecting you to do that. But as soon as he hears your soft whine, his arms that once surrounded the space around you, grabbed at your waist. The soft feeling of his lips on yours melts your body into desire, but before you can fall under it, you pull away.Heeseung groans just as you cut contact, looking at you with an puzzled expression. What are you doing to him? You give him what he wants and blatantly take it away. That’s the game you play huh? You tip toe, bending your neck over his as you take a peek at the wall clock fixed in the living room, just next to the kitchen. 10 PM it read. Time does fly when you have fun.
“Sex this late night ruins my sleep” you tell him with a fake pout plastered on your face. “Maybe next time, Lee” you add on as you cup his face, only to kiss his cheek before slipping away out. Heeseung freezes, shock etched across his features as he replays the scene in his mind. He grapples with your intentions, wondering when this “next time” will occur. It’s clear you’re pushing his buttons, you literally kissed him for a hot minute and left him helplessly hanging. You’re good at switching up aren’t you? If he has to play this game to put you in your place, then so be it.
All confidence that resided inside you vanished as soon as you closed the door to Beomgyu’s room. God, did you actually do that? Your ego definitely seems to spike sometimes. You don’t know if you regret it; from the sheer look in his eyes and searing kiss, it was obvious he liked you too. You just might have left quite an impression on him, it was bold of you. The future of your actions lay flat for tomorrow.
You wake up to the noise of the front door being opened, assuming it was Beomgyu, you rub your tightly closed eyes open. Having slept fairly well last night, you quickly got out of bed, arranging the sheets neat. This wasn’t your bed or home to leave untidy, like you occasionally do. Although you think Beomgyu is no better than you.
Walking out you see Beomgyu, helping himself to a cup of ramen. You’d like some breakfast before you leave.
“Hey, got another cup?” you ask with grogginess evident in your voice. Beomgyu finally takes a look at you, pausing at your question for a few minutes before nodding. He turns back momentarily to grab another cup, sliding it over to you. You can’t help but turn your eyes over to Heeseung’s room. Is he still in bed?
“Where’s your ‘boring’ roommate?” you ask him with a hint laughter in your voice. Beomgyu gives you a sarcastic roll of his eyes, “He left for the gym right as I came in” he says replying to your asked question. Oh. You guess the only time you’ll see him again is on Monday.
Finally pouring in the hot water, you close the cup with the paper lid, waiting. As you sit waiting for your meal, lost in your thoughts, your mind wanders aimlessly. Suddenly, a sharp gasp escapes your lips as your attention is abruptly pulled back to reality by Beomgyu, who has made an odd noise while pointing his index finger in your direction.
You look at him with a confused expression, “I thought I told you use my t-shirt? That’s not mine” he says, staring at you for an answer. Halting for short second, you reply back “I looked through your closet, and Heeseung told me that they were all in the wash, genius. So he lent me his”
Beomgyu looks at you with squinting eyes, processing all what you said before he casually hums. Opening your lid back up, you mix your noodles before going in for a much needed savory bite, humming in delight you look up with happy eyes.
“So, What did you do last night?” Beomgyu questions, inching his elbows closer to you. The question is harmless and innocent if you view it the way you should, but in your case, there are only two things memorable — winning over Heeseung and kissing Heeseung. You can’t help smile internally remembering them, you still feel the feeling of his lips on yours if you think about it long enough.
Beomgyu waves his hand infront of you, as to pop your thinking bubble, “R..Right, yeah, I didn’t do much, just played some video games and went to bed, that’s all” you answer stuttering slightly at your words.
His eyes light up at the mention of video games, a grin fighting for freedom on his face, “Who won?” he asks enthusiastically. You’re sure Beomgyu’s hoping for you to say that you had won, recollecting that he always lost to his skilled roommate. Licking your lips in a swift motion, you press your lips together in a tight smile, gazing at Beomgyu.
The look on your face is all he needs to let out a sigh of happy relief, “Fuck yes! Somebody actually beat Heeseung” he exclaims with delight offering you a high-five, which you gladly receive. Slurping up the last of your breakfast, you walk over to throw in the trash informing Beomgyu on the way that you’ll head out after changing back into your clothes from last night.
As if remembering something important, he calls you again, “ _______!, just wanted to let you know, I’m hosting a party at my parents’ place on Monday you know, since the semesters about to end. And they’re not home anyway. Your’re invited if you’re up for it” he blurts out.
“Who's gonna be there?” you question, intrigued.
“Like practically everyone; Yuna, the girl with red glasses, Heeseung, me, duh and—
“I’ll be there, send me the address” you cut him off, rushing back inside and change before you leave.
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You apply a coat of rosy lip gloss, pressing your lips together with satisfaction. You look good tonight, clad in a snug black mini skirt paired elegantly with a delicate white lace tube top and your hair down in waves. The top showcases just the right amount of skin, accentuating the look of your slender silver chain. It’s both sexy and cute.
The party’s at 8 PM, and you’ll be just on time if you leave right now. You take one more good look in your full length mirror, nodding to yourself, before finally heading out.
╰┈➤
You stare in awe at the house the party resided in. It’s truly beautiful, and big. The lively music and joyful voices coming from inside indicate that Beomgyu has invited a lot of people. It’s clear he’s gone all out to make sure everyone has a great time tonight. You enter with a soft sigh, clutching onto your baby pink handbag. The music is loud but quite enough to hear people talk to one another. Your eyes scan around the area; looking for Beomgyu. The large table with drinks catch your eye as you spot Beomgyu sipping on a can of beer.
He locks eyes with you as you make your way towards him, managing a small smile.
“Oh my god, you’re like two minutes late” he exclaims dramatically, holding up his phone in the which glowed ‘8:02 PM’. You give him an unimpressed look. That seems to shut him up as he gives you a small pout.
You grab a can of beer from the table, popping it open and taking a sip.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a house tour, you’re probably the only one who hasn’t been here” he tells already walking ahead.
You faithfully trail behind him as he leads you on a tour through each luxurious room, offering short descriptions of their purposes. The surroundings are nothing short of extravagant, soaring ceilings, intricate architectural designs, and an abundance of totally unnecessary paintings on the wall. The overall aura of the place resembles a palace, filled to the brim with people.
As you both progress down the hallway, the fading music suggests you’re approaching the final room. Each room you’ve passed has been bustling with at least five people, engaged in drinking, sleeping, or playing some sort of game. However, between all this, Heeseung’s absence stands out. You’re left to ponder where he is : Either he dipped out on coming or he’s inside the room you’re just about to enter.
Beomgyu gestures towards the door, softly remarking, “And here’s the last room, my childhood sanctuary.” With a gentle click, he swings it open, revealing a truly elegant space. Stepping inside, you instinctively search for Heeseung, your gaze finally settling on him. He acknowledges Beomgyu, waving at him before he buries his gaze on you.
You look away as soon as you make eye contact, pretending to observe the room instead. Other than Heeseung there are few other guys in the room, they’re all sitting on the bed; probably chatting before you came in.
“What are ya’ll doing just talking? The drinks are downstairs, come down!” Beomgyu tells them with annoyance evident in his voice.
“I’ll stay, not in the mood to drink right now” Heeseung mutters, his eyes still fixated on you. Beomgyu looks at you with bored eyes as if silently letting you know that the person who just spoke is infact really boring. You give him a small giggle before telling him that you’d come down in a bit too. You just might have a little talking to do. Beomgyu gives you an expression of ‘you too?’ before leading the other guys out down with him.
As soon as you turn your head from watching them leave to head down, you slightly flinch at Heeseung walking past you to swiftly lock the door. Safe to say you’re not surprised. You slide your handbag off your shoulder, mounting it on a nearby shelf. Just then you feel a gentle tug at your wrist and immediate contact with Heeseung’s lips. You halt for a second before you wrap your hands around his neck, pads of your fingers pressing into the nape of his neck.
His lips feel just as soft as the first time, addicting you must say. He seems just as eager as you are, slyly pushing his tongue inside your mouth with a grin you could tell he had on. You whine into his mouth, signalling him to pull away to breathe. He pulls away slowly, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you pant heavily. God you really need him right now. His eyes look into yours as you giggle at the lip gloss smeared over his mouth. He looks at you amused as you wipe then gloss off with a focused stare.
“What happened to ‘sex ruins your sleep at night’ ?” he asks you mockingly, running his hands over your ass.
“Your dick’s hard” you retort, hands coming down to palm his cock. He hisses as you do so, mumbling a curse.
“I’ll just go fuck another girl” he tells with a smirk, eager to see your reaction. He’s really trying to piss you off huh?
“No you fucking won’t” you tell him with a laugh, connecting your lips back together. He dosen’t complain, immediately melting into the kiss as you still rub his hard on, making him moan into it. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good his lips feel against yours.
“That’s right, so suck me off will you?” he says against your lips.
And that's how you end up on your knees, holding onto Heeseung’s thighs tightly while he thrusts his big fucking dick into your mouth. You eagerly suck and twirl your tongue around the lower part of his shaft, making sure to cover it with your saliva. The grip on his thighs becomes even tighter as he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, his mushroom tip brushing against the back.
“J..Just like that baby, god you were made for this” he rasps with eyes closed shut, fingers caressing your hair. You let out quiet moans against his dick, your panties progressively getting wetter. You’re desperate for him inside you.
Continuing to suck him off, you decide to tease him a bit, after all he is, so close to coming. You pull off his dick, retrieving your hands from his thighs and grabbing at the base of it and giving his red tip kitten licks. He groans at loss of your mouth, eyes glaring at your doe eyed ones. “Don’t fucking tease or you won’t get to cum later” he warns you. The thought of not cumming when your pussy was dripping and pulsating like this sent shivers down your spine.
You almost immediately stuff his cock back in your mouth; but you pause when you feel feel Heeseung’s hands gripping your hair, fucking your mouth. It’s sloppy and messy; you feel hot tears well up at your eyes, falling down endlessly as he continues to fuck your throat deep.
“Thats’s a good girl, fuck, ’m gonna cum” he moans, his movements in your mouth gradually easing as he releases his warmth down your throat. Heeseung breathes heavily, his eyes widening with a smile as he gazes at your exhausted expression; cheeks flushed, eyes watery, and most likely a very wet pussy. He bends down to pick you up again, mounting you on his lap as he lifts your skirt, fingers dipping into your soaked cunt.
You whine into his neck, feeling him move your drenched panties to the side, filling your cunt with two of his fingers, sinking in and out of you painfully slow. Heeseung chuckles at your whimpers, finding them cute as he adds a third finger, picking up his pace. He starts pressing wet kisses into your neck, sucking on the shell of your ear which only fueled the building pleasure inside of you.
“Hah—! please, wanna cu..m gonna cum” you groan into his neck as you cream over his fingers, knot in your stomach free as you relieve your high, hugging Heeseung tighter. He brings up his coated fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.
“Need to fuck you now, but let me eat you out next time, yeah?” he whispers into your ear, as you finally look at him again placing a kiss on your lips. You hum in response, a slight gasp escaping your lips as he flips you on your stomach, ass up in the air; removing the your skirt and sticky underwear. He takes a moment to look at your glistening cunt, slightly swollen from your previous orgasm.
You want to say something you know you shouldn’t, because one, it’s way beyond the truth and two, not when he has you under him like this, no control over him and pussy ready for him to slip into. But you like pissing him off and getting him worked up. Just as you feel his dick poke at your entrance, you whisper, “Small dick”.
You may have said it in a low voice but the way you feel Heeseung stiffen up behind you only confirms he had clearly heard it.
“Oh yeah? Enlighten me on the girl who was fucking choking on this small dick not so long ago” he spits out with amusement lacing his words, cock slipping into your folds whole without notice. You let out a string of choked moans, words breaking down into nothing as he pounds into you relentlessly. Falling face down onto the sheets, you tug on them tighter, body jerking and thighs shaking. To say he felt good buried inside of you was a huge understatement.
He hold your hips tighter, cursing at how you clench down at him each time he goes deeper into you.
“Look at you, cunts sucking me in so good, been desperate for my cock haven’t you?” Heeseung growls with a cruel laugh, leaning down to suck on your back as he still fucks into you. You don’t answer, mind fogged up with cock ruining your pussy as your eyes roll back. One of his hands pull you back up, then grabbing at your bouncing tits, rubbing at your nipples.
He slaps your ass, eyes watching it jiggle with each pound he gives. “Fucking answer me” he demands you, only making you moan louder as you feel his tip brutally hammer at your cervix, pushing you towards the edge.
“Yes! hnng!— fuck yes! gah- please” you blurt out, the need to cum again building up fast.
Heeseung lets out a shriek, cock swollen inside of you as he fills your cunt up with his cum. But he still fucks into you, getting you closer to your high. The way he filled you up only tightened the knot inside you, squirting out on his cock and coating. Your vision sees white as you pant heavily, head throbbing.
Heeseung slowly moves your tired body onto his lap, picking you all over your face as you get back into your senses. “What a way to finally say I love you” he tells you, kissing the crown on your head. You giggle at him, feeling a strong sense of euphoria rush through you.
“I’ve always liked you” you tell him, looking away and playing with his fingers. He chuckles at you, placing another kiss on your lips. “Good, I had a thing for you too” he whispers into your ear.
Suddenly you hear a stiff knock at door, you jolt up in surprise, “Can you please open the fucking door? I need to piss! All the others are occupied!” you hear Beomgyu’s voice outside, desperate to get inside. It makes you realise you literally fucked on his bed, and totally messed up the cheeks. The thought of cleaning it up burns red into your cheeks.
You look up at Heeseung, as if asking what to do. But with the grin he has on his face says otherwise.
“Wait just a little more, I’ve got to make _______ cum again!” he screams out at the door slyly spreading your legs again.
You don’t think Beomgyu has to use the bathroom anymore.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 days
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it’s the way i know rafe actually gets off on you being jealous and honestly vice versa. maybe it’s bad that your foreplay is either of you fake flirting with someone at a party just to have rafe pull you into a bathroom and bend you over the counter and fuck you hard against the porcelain while the poor victims of your little game listen on the other side of the door.
a/n: we all know he lives for the drama, he lives for the toxic games
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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“Occupied!” Rafe yelled when a loud knock boomed at the bathroom door. 
The interruption though didn’t cause him to slow down at all as he fucked you, rather it egged him on as he snapped his hips hard enough for your palm to soar up to your mouth, muffling the whine he withdrew from you.
As his grasp slid up from your tits, threatening to escape your sundress, up to your throat, his fingertips stretched up to your jaw as he leaned down close and found your gaze in the mirror.
“Maybe it’s your new boyfriend out there being a little perv and listening in,” the sink dug into your lower stomach at every one of his ruthless thrusts, “why don’t you moan real pretty for him, give him a little taste of what he’ll never have?” his fingers flexed around your neck, “or maybe I should just unlock the door since you enjoy so much being such a little slut and flirting with everyone even though you belong to me. Because you do, you know you do. It doesn’t matter how many people you wink at, you’ll always be mine… maybe he needs to see it in person to understand, see how well you take my cock to realise that mine is the only one that’ll ever get to stretch this little pussy out. You think that would clear it up for him?”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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angel5ofp0rn · 2 days
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Ummm, how about price sabotaging the dates that the reader goes to
he would never do such a thing…
PT 5 😋
ExHusband!Price x f!reader
*im so shy at writing smut plz b patient ._.
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“John, I really can't talk right now.”
“Who is he?”
You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You knew better than to talk about your plans around the children.
“He's just...” You sigh, unable to lie to him even though you wanted to. “His daughter is on Gabriel's soccer team.”
The line is silent.
“…John?
“Have you been seeing each other for a while, then?”
“This is none of your-”
“How long have you been seeing him?” John reworded his question, sounding more stern than casual.
You don’t need to tell him anything. It’s been a month since the two of you kissed outside of your oldest child’s school, and that was an accident.
“It’s our first date.” You mumble your admission.
John grunts, as if he’s finding the news amusing.
You look over yourself in the mirror, suddenly feeling anxious. Shaking hands smooth over your little black dress, you run your fingers through your hair.
God, why does he still have this effect on you?
“Where’s he takin’ you?” John asks casually. “That little Italian place you like?”
You roll your eyes at this, picking your phone back up from where it was laying atop your vanity.
“I’m hanging up now.” You huff. “Tell the kids I love them.”
You didn’t give John a chance to say anything else before ending the call.
•••
The ambiance of the Italian restaurant is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a gentle murmur of conversation. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from your phone call with John.
Tonight is about moving forward. For leaving your past in the past.
Your date, Matt, smiles at you across the table, his dark eyes twinkling in the low light.
"I'm really glad you agreed to go out with me," he says, his voice warm and genuine.
You return his smile, feeling grateful for his patience and understanding even after the several times you’d turned him down.
You were too busy, Linnie was sick, you had to go in to work…
You were hung up on John.
"Me too," you say softly.
As you delve into conversation, the outside world fades away. The past is in the past.
For the first time in a long while, you weren’t thinking about John.
Just as you start to lose yourself in the moment, a familiar voice interrupts from behind you.
“Mummy!”
Your heart sinks as you see John, that smug grin playing on his lips. On either side of him were your children, wide-eyed and excited, each clutching one of his hands.
"Daddy said we're having a fancy dinner!" your youngest exclaims, bouncing with enthusiasm as they approach your table.
Your stomach churns with disbelief as you try to comprehend what's happening. "John, what are you doing?" you demand, your voice tight with frustration.
He shrugs, his expression unapologetic. "The kids wanted to go out for dinner," he says casually, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
You glance at Matt, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "I'm so sorry," you murmur, mortified by the scene unfolding before you. “This is my-”
“John Price,” John reaches out to shake hands with your date, “Ex husband. SAS.”
“Uh… Matt.” Your date introduces himself, looking to you in confusion.
“I’m so sorry…” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying not to cry out of pure frustration. “I didn’t know he was going to do this.”
“Where’s our chairs?” Your oldest looks at you, noticing your table only had a seat for you and your date.
“We’ll be right over here, buddy.” John smiles, guiding the kids to the table next to your own.
It had a folded card on top that read “Reserved”.
This wasn’t a spur of the moment stunt.
John knew about your date and planned on crashing it all along.
You glance helplessly at Matt, feeling a pang of guilt for dragging him into this mess.
To your surprise, he reaches out to squeeze your hand, a small smile on his lips.
“Maybe we should go,” he says gently.
You nod, grateful that he’s so… understanding.
The two of you stand, and before you leave you stop by John’s table to give each of the kids a kiss on the cheek and let them know that you’ll see them tomorrow. You don’t even glance at John.
•••
“I had a really good time tonight,” Matt smiles as the two of you stand on your doorstep.
You hardly believe him; after John pulled that stunt at the restaurant, you were sure Matt would completely lose interest in pursuing this any further…
But to your surprise, he tried to make sure you enjoyed the rest of the night. The two of you had an impromptu picnic at the park, got ice cream and he even bought you flowers.
Matt is so… Nice.
“I did, too.” You smile, looking at your date with a small blush on your cheeks.
The two of you stare at each other for a beat before Matt speaks again, shyly this time.
“I’d really like to kiss you, if that’s okay.”
“That won’t be happening, mate.” John announces in the now open doorway, a bowl of cereal in his hand.
“John-!”
“Oh…” Matt blushes, taking a step back. “You two are still living together..?”
“No, we’re not,” You explain desperately. “John, what the fuck are you doing here?!”
John shrugs, taking another bite of his late-night snack. “Kids missed their real beds. I have the emergency key.”
You glare at him. He smiles.
“I’ll, uh… I’ll call you, yeah?” Matt offers as he starts towards his car. “It was nice seeing you.”
“Have a good night, Mike.” John waves with a grin, knowing damn well his name is Matt, not Mike.
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You grumble, pushing past him into the house.
“What? I was bein’ nice to him.” John plays innocent, pushing the door closed with his foot. “Wasn’t really your type, though.”
“What’re you talking about?” You frown, removing your earrings.
John smirks. “He has brown eyes.”
You look at him like he’s insane… because you fully believe that is.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You like blue eyes, lovey.” John says softly, setting the bowl on the coffee table in the living room. “Mad for ‘em. You’d chase a man out to the parking lot over a pair of blue eyes.”
You don’t say a word.
John takes the bouquet of tulips from Matt from your hands, looking them over. You just watch.
“Doesn’t he know you hate tulips?” He looks back up to you, an eyebrow raised.
“Don’t be an ass.” You mumble, taking them back. “How would he know that? This was our first date.”
“I knew by our first date.” John counters, his arms crossing over his chest. “Knew you wanted a white house with a garden in the back, a big bathroom with a claw tub, an engagement ring with a garnet or a pearl instead of an ‘ugly silver and diamond ring’… and a hundred blue-eyed babies.”
You look down at your tulips, then back up at John.
You hate that he’s right. That he knows you too well. That he always has.
“You still didn’t have to crash my date.” You mumble, sitting down on the sofa, laying the flowers down next to you.
“Couldn’t help it, love. I go after what I want.”
John’s familiar words made you feel something in the pit of your stomach… Something you couldn’t quite name.
You lean back on the sofa, lifting your foot to him.
John crouches down to help you remove your heels, gently setting them aside.
“So, how was he?” John murmurs, his hands creeping up under your dress and starting to slowly pull your panties down your thighs.
You lift your hips, making it easier for him. “He was nice…”
“Hm.” John shakes his head with a tut. “You’ve never liked the nice ones.”
You watch as your panties are now being pulled down around your ankles, John’s head near your knees. He looks up for a moment, waiting for your signal.
You run your fingers through his hair gently before pushing his head towards your sex.
John wasted no time pushing your dress up your thighs and pulling you closer to devour you like he was starving.
Something about John on his knees in front of you, your legs over his shoulders...
“You’re such an asshole,” You groan.
John pulls back, lifting his head from your wet, needy pussy. He’s teasing you out of revenge, you’re sure of it.
Your back arches, trying to get his mouth back where you want it, but John leans back a bit more.
“John,” You whine, desperately trying to push his head back down.
“What is it, lovey? Hm?” John asks softly, pushing his fingers into your entrance, slowly dragging them in and out as he looks up at you. “Tell me wha’ you want.”
“I want-” You bite back a moan. “I want you.”
“You have me, sweetheart. Always have.” John’s husky words sounded like poetry.
You nod, because he’s right.
It doesn’t take long for John to make you come; he still knows your body better than anyone ever will.
He presses a few gently kisses to the inside of your thigh before pulling back. He rubs your legs as you come down from your climax.
“Forgive me, lovey?” He asks smugly.
You nod, a small smile on your lips to go with your flushed cheeks and heavy eyelids.
“Good. Now c’mere, you never got that goodnight kiss.”
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sonarspace · 1 day
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sweet syrup, satoru gojo
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synopsis: emotions are all over the place when fwb!gojo stands you up… for another girl? content: fluff (kinda). smut (food play, fem!receiving, orgasm, unprotected sex) wc: 3.1k a/n: another fic within 24hrs to make up for my absence :). (not proofread!). this is a result of listening to sesame syrup by cigarettes after sex on repeat.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
your phone chimes with a text from satoru “are you free this week? i’m coming to your city”. to which you reply almost instantly. “yeah, i can make some time.”
he texts back: “no need to cancel any plans. i can work around it. just wanna spend some time with you while i’m here.” making your heart flip.
“i have an event to attend tonight, but can i come over sometime between 2 and 3?” he sends another text.
it’s not really like you had much going on in the week so you decided to say yes. to which he sends a winky face and a see you soon.
it’s almost 2am when you’re done getting ready. it has been a while since you’ve seen each other and while satoru has seen you in all your rawness. you figured it wouldn’t hurt to dress up a bit.
you decide to wear an ocean blue lingerie set (his favorite color) and a sheer white dress over it, leaving nothing to imagination. you hope you can catch him off guard with this look.
you look at the clock and it’s already 2:30am. you decide to send him a text to confirm he’s going to come up or not. it’s not like satoru to stand you up especially on a plan he’s made.
“are we still good for tonight?” you text. but no reply comes through. he did say 3am didn’t he, you think to yourself. maybe he’ll be there by then. you sigh and decide to put on a movie.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and wait a bit longer past 3. but you regret that decision as you are watching instagram stories and see a pic of none other than, satoru gojo in all his glory at the party he said he’d be. an angry pout takes over your lips.
what gets you isn’t the fact that he may still be at the party but who he is with. some model’s lips are pressed to his cheeks – hand hovering over her back and his stupid people winning grin plastered on his face.
posted 20 minutes ago. you inhale deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t even know why you were hurt. after all you were just fuck buddies and nothing more. you suppose it was the anger making you cry.
feeling stupid at even trying to dress him for him, streaks of black mascara run down your face. you look at yourself in the mirror and take a deep breath, willing yourself to not cry over some rich fucker.
you wipe your make up and change into a pair of sweatpants and lay back down on the couch. continuing your show trying to distract yourself from the indirect rejection you felt.
but your mind kept going back to him. why would he wanna be with you when he can get all those pretty girls with their perfect bodies. girls who could probably make him feel far better than you do.
you were stupid to think there was something going in between the two of you. as soon as that thought crosses your mind a text chimes. “baby, i’m so sorry. almost there. 5 minutes.”
you scoff at the nickname ‘baby’ huh. “don’t bother. i’m going to sleep.” but you don’t get a reply back. instead what you get is loud repetition of knocks on your apartment door followed by your name.
he waits a beat and then continues knocking. “not leaving until you open the door” he texts you. out of compassion for your neighbors, you open the door. his hand stops mid knock as you gesture him to get in.
"i'm really sorry, i swear i didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long." he starts rambling and you look at him with a plain stare and arms crossed to let him know you're not having his bullshit — you already know he has other priorities.
"i lost track of time and i left the party as soon as i realized. my phone was dead, so i couldn't even text you. i just charged it on the way here. darling, you know i'd never keep you waiting," he moves closer to grab your hands and you let him.
you gulp hard trying to not cry. he reaches to touch your face but you jerk your head away. "don't gojo." the change stings him and you see a look of hurt pass over his face. "please" he drags out the syllable. "okay," you tell him and he almost smiles but you reach out and wipe the lipstick mark off his cheek bringing it up to his eyes "what's this then?"
he narrows his eyes at your thumb in thought, "it's nothing, i swear. she kissed my cheek out of nowhere and they took the photo and i moved away from her just as fast." and you scoff in disbelief, "you just have an answer for everything, don't you gojo."
he groans “just give me a minute,” and pulls out his phone — going through his texts to show the photos of him taken throughout the night. out of habit you take in his appearance. he looks unbelievably sexy in an all black outfit, a sheer black tank and a black overcoat with matching suit pants. you're immediately reminded of your white dress that you had picked earlier and think how perfectly it’d match his outfit. a tear involuntarily escapes your eye.
you wipe it casually before he can notice. he pulls up the photo probably going around on social media at the moment and then the one of him moving away from the lady, "see!" he exclaims. and you sigh, "what do you want me to say gojo?"
"first off, don't call me gojo. secondly, forgive me. it was an honest mistake, you know i'd never do it on purpose. and lastly, i've missed you so so much baby," he drops his forehead to yours and you don't pull away. cause you've missed him just the same.
"go home," you whisper to him. "can't." he replies in the same manner. "it's too late and i didn't get my car. let me stay. let me make it up to you."
you pull away from him and turn towards your bedroom. he lets out a sigh of relief thinking maybe you were giving him a second chance but his shoulders deflate just as quick when you say, "you can take the guest room."
and so he does. he'd take any chance to be close to you since his job makes it hard for him to stay around you for long periods of time. so whenever he comes to this city, he'd prefers to stay with you rather than at a hotel.
and although your relationship and feelings for each other were hidden under the title of "fuck buddies" you both knew it was more than that. both of you went exclusive as soon as you started sleeping with each other. hell you don't think you could find anyone who would fuck you as good as satoru does. and he doesn't even want to try because the way your pussy makes him feel is other worldly.
he gets out of the shower and opts to wear just his boxers and lays comfortably at the thought of making it up to you in the morning. meanwhile you twist and turn trying to find a position to sleep, wondering if you should give in or keep it up so he knows what he did was wrong.
you wake up to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen and smile when you remember satoru stayed over last night. albeit not with you but still. your jaw drops slightly when you walk out and see him standing by the stove in nothing but his boxers. the early morning light accentuating the dips and curves of his muscles.
"satoru!" you shriek covering your eyes. "oh, good morning baby. why are you hiding your face?" he asks as if he isn't standing there with his dick in your face. "why are you naked?! put something on!" you exclaim. "ahh, nothing you haven't seen before princess. plus i’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers!” he grins and then adds on “can't exactly wear those clothes when i'm cookin breakfast. it's uncomfortable."
"ugh," you say out loud and march back into your room. you come out with a pair of his sweatpants and throw it to him from across the counter. "wear these!"
"whatever you want baby," he pulls them on and they rest sinfully on his hips – almost teasing you and your cheeks flush. “can you taste this for me?” he asks and you walk around the counter to stand next to him as he pushes a spoonful of syrup towards you.
your eyes flutter close and you hum at the sweet taste. “this is really good,” you smile softly. “thanks. it’s for the french toast. i just put it in the oven to keep it warm. thought you’d be asleep for a little longer.” you beam at the mention of french toast, they were your favorite. “nutella?” you ask and he nods with a mesmerizing smile “just the way you like it, sweets.”
you both gaze at each other with a soft smile. “can i have another spoon?” you meek. you accidentally let a little bit of it dribble down your chin. “oh shit,” you’re about to wipe it off but satoru holds your hand and pulls you in closer.
you feel his tongue leave a wet trail behind as he licks the dripping syrup from your chin to the corner of your mouth. your breath hitches at the sensation. he pulls back and looks at you with smirk.
before he can take too much pride in catching you off guard, you surprise him by clashing your lips to his. he bucks backward and steadies himself with a grip on your waist.
his heart picks up a beat at finally feeling your plush lips on his. tasting the remnants of syrup still sticking to your lips. your kiss felt transcendental to him. like the only way to stay alive was the air that passed through your mouth to his. and he rejoiced at that. he’d be willing to live with you as his source of oxygen.
gaining back some composure he pushes you back and places you on the counter. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in further. his tongue tries to find its way into your mouth but you don’t budge. instead you giggle into the kiss and he takes it as an indication to kiss your teeth.
his lips move over your jaw, lightly nipping at the skin at the space under your ear. his tongue pokes out and traces your ear lobe once, twice and then he nibs down on the cartilage playfully with a whine of your name. the oven’s beeping brings you both out of the love lust trance you’re in.
he huffs and moves back to turn off the oven while you turn off the stove and grab another spoon of syrup. he turns back to see you leaning back on an arm and kicking your feet – dropping the sticky syrup over your clothed perked nipples. the lack of a bra evident. “oops” you pout, feigning innocence.
his breath seizes at the scene unfolding in front of him. he licks his lips once and then without wasting any more time, his mouth moves over your chest. licking the syrup off your shirt and in the process stimulating your nipples just like you hoped. he pulls off your shirt and throws it behind somewhere behind but before he can go further you stop him “wait!”.
“not in the kitchen,” you speak timidly – a flush creeping up your neck at his lustful stare. pressure builds in your stomach at the way he’s looking at you and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction.
“where?” he asks as he picks you up. “anywhere but the kitchen,” you whisper into the skin of his neck as you place a chaste kiss. and then he’s dropping down to his knees with you. laying you on the wooden floor of your living room
he leaves you on the floor for a beat and then comes back with the pot filled with syrup. he peels of your sweatpants along with your soaked panties. “lay still,” he tells you and you straighten out your legs and arms.
using you as his canvas he grabs the pot of syrup and tilts it over your body. creating a pattern of syrup on your naked body. he places the pot back on the counter and admires his work. a thoughtful grin on his face as he makes eye contact with you. “can i take a photo of you?” he asks and you nod without a second thought. he grabs your phone and snaps a pic. this image of yours would be imprinted in his mind forever and more.
“look at how beautiful you look,” and surely you do. sprawled out over the wooden floors of your apartment with a sticky substance covering your body. but that’s not all. the sun shines through the curtains, casting your body in an ethereal light and a ring of light on your head acting as a halo. “just like an angel. my angel. aren’t you baby?” he asks for confirmation.
and maybe it’s too early to say but you do anyway. “only yours, satoru. always yours,” you utter the words he’s been waiting for – well he feels like his whole life but in reality it’s only been three months since you two started this relationship.
the intensity of his gaze has a shiver run over your body and you can feel goosebumps erupt across your skin. he moves on top of you. taking his time with your body. licking over and over until he cleans the syrup. you almost feel like you’re not breathing as his mouth moves over your neck, collarbones, chest, stomach – lapping and littering your skin with love bites.
before moving further down he gives you a deep kiss and you can taste the sweetness of the syrup on his tongue as it tangles with yours. but it’s so incredibly satoru, to be tasting this sweet you can’t help but suck his tongue a little.
finally he spreads your thighs and makes himself at home. licking a quick stripe to test your wetness. there’s so much arousal it has him wondering if you already came. your nubs a shade darker, almost angry at being away from him for so long. he coos at your pussy as it was a separate being. “you missed me, didn’t you?” a peck to your clit. “i missed you too, but your mommy was tryna keep us apart.” you can’t help but laugh at the endearing silliness of him speaking to your pussy. faking a gasp he whispers “i know! it’s okay. going to take such good care of you now,” this time he looks at you.
his tongue moves over your bundle of nerves pressing down on your nub stimulating it just the right amount and plunging a finger into your cunt. his eyes flutter close at your taste. “nothing comes close to your sweetness, darling” he groans. your hands tangle in his head as he continues sucking your clit. you moan his name “ha ha ‘m so close toru.” so he speeds up his pace – licking ferociously, wanting you to reach your high quicker.
you come with a scream of his name. eyes shut and fingers tugging his hair but he has no complaints. he loved the sting when you tugged his hair like this – when you were too fucked out to even realize you were doing it.
he frees his cock and he feels like he can breath a bit better now. his hardened cock turns impossibly harder when you reach a hand down and pump it a few times and he watches in awe. pre cum lathering his length.
“you doing okay?” he asks you from above aligning himself but not pushing in. “yeah,” you hum but you’re lost in thought. about last night. but satoru notices everything. he squeezes your cheeks so you look at him. “what’s wrong?” genuinely concerned.
“i was hurt last night when you didn’t show up on time. and i didn’t understand why i was so hurt because it’s not like we’re dating or anything. but seeing that pic of you, out with those people hurt. cause i was here waiting for you, wanting to surprise you with a dress i bought, that i thought you’d like. but that doesn’t matter. what i’m trying to say is that this is more than just sex for me satoru. i really really like you. i want more of you. more of this. more of us.” you confess all that you’ve held in since this past few weeks of being apart from him.
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, reeling in your confession. you feel like you’ve ruined whatever you had going on. “satoru, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” in fact it wasn’t. you’d be heartbroken if he didn’t feel the same way. “you don’t have to say anything. i just, i-“ you’re about to continue but he cuts you off with a hard kiss. “i do too. all that you said. i too, want more of you, more of this, more of us. it’s more than just sex for me too, baby. has been for a while. i’m really sorry about last night. wear that dress for me tonight, please.” he pleads. “i’ll cook you a nice dinner and we can have our first date as an official couple. what’d you say?” he smiles softly.
your heart clenches at overwhelming emotions and tears line your eyes as you repeat yes over and over again until he’s kissing you and drinking the love out of you.
he carries you over to your bedroom and lays beside you. he grabs your leg and places it over his hip, lining his cock with your cunt. slowly he pushes into you. you both moan in unison. him at the feeling of your snug walls and you at the feeling of his cock stretching you apart.
your foreheads touch as you maintain eye contact. he thrusts into you ever so lovingly. languid and hard thrusts. as if you both had all the time in the world.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
a/n: idk how i feel abt this 💔😭 but i hope you liked it. comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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crazy4nika · 3 days
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just enough
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warnings: nightmares and paige being annoying but thats lowkey it this ones kinda cute
request: hi!!! i loved you nika headcannons. would you be open to writing about her? i rlly feel like you’re hc abt her match up so well
nika mühl x reader
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the warmth of my blankets encompassed me in, the weight of the soft fabric holding me down. i don’t really know how i was still awake, considering it was almost 1 a.m.
its not like i was staying awake, i was actually trying to sleep.
my room was small, but comfy. the only light was a streetlight gleaming through the window. it had one bed, a nightstand and, a dresser. a uconn ncaa banner was pitched above the bed. my dorm-room was surprisingly quiet, the only sound being a small floor fans whirring.
the silence was interrupted was a quiet jingle from the door handle. the metal clicked and the door creaked open, and a tall brunette girl poked her head in. “hey niks. couldn’t sleep again?”
“how’d you know?” she spoke sarcastically, shrugging while she walked in. the door closed quietly behind her. sometimes when nika can’t sleep, she finds her way into my room. after what was probably the 20th time this happened, i gave her an extra key so i didn’t have to get up to let her in.
i scooted closer to the wall to make space as she stumbled her way over. nika lifted the covers up and slipped under them, instantly moving closer to me. she gave me a quick smile before rolling over, facing away. “thanks. for you know. this?”
“yeah… i don’t mind,” i traced little shapes on her back while we talked. i drew a dog and a house and two girl standing outside of it before she moved. nika sunk further into the bed, “i was kind of worried you would.”
“why would it bother me? its really nice when you’re here.” she giggled before turning back towards me, making eye contact in the dark. “do you really think i would give you a key if it bothered me?”
she had really nice eyes, and they were looking right in mine. and the way she talked was so perfect, “i guess i never thought about it that way.” she blinked and it broke me out if my trance, but i was pulled back in the second i could see them again. the chocolate brown swirled around, darker on the inside and lighter on the outside. it had such a sweet look to it and the colour highlighted her face.
nika sighed and then we just layed there in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. nothing needed to be said. the presence of each other being there was just enough.
but i had to break it. i don’t really know why. “are you sure your doing okay?”
she seemed taken aback, her eyes loosing the happiness they had seconds prior to my words. “i- why wouldn’t i be?” she was laying so close to me that i could feel her breath shaking while she spoke, a nervousness coating her expressions.
“niks, i’m just worried about your sleep and stuff. you come in here saying that you cant sleep more often then not,” she pulled the covers slightly closer, twisting the edge lightly with her fingers. “and theres nothing wrong with you coming in here, but is something keeping you up at night?”
“its not like its important or anything.”
“yes it is.”
even though she was laying down she still crossed her arms and gave me a you should be quiet look. “why?”
“because your important. and i care.” a strand of hair fell in front of her face and she blew at it to try and get rid of it, but it kept ended up right back in her face. frustration grew over her face. after she started mumbling swears at it, i tucked it behind her ear.
“why do you care?” she spat, calmness buried underneath her mean tone.
“i don’t know, why are you interrogating me now?”
“you know i didn’t come here for a heart to heart. i came here to sleep.”
“i guess we don’t always get what we want.”
she took in a deep breath, “i’ve been have these nightmares, where i cant do anything right. and coach gets mad at me, then the rest of the team follows,”
“and nobody will talk to me, because i keep messing the plays up. not even you will talk to me.”
“and it gets to the point where nobody will look at me, because they’re ashamed for me. or at me, i’m not really sure. and in the end, i just stop loving basketball.” her voice cracks with those last words and it breaks my heart. and as the tears she was holding back slowly make their way over her waterline and onto her face, i pull her into a hug.
her voice was all squeaky and wobbly, “i just don’t want to be a failure.” nikas face was pressed against my chest, a wet spot appearing on my t-shirt.
“no. look at me,”
nika peered up at me, eyes still glossy with tears. “you are not a failure. you never will be, okay? we all love you so much. i love you so much.”
“yeah.” she sniffled out. my hand held her head close the myself, playing with her hair. my other hand scratched her back, trailing under her shirt slightly.
she wiped her tears with her sleeve before cuddling back in, “your a good friend.” she mumbled into the crook of my neck, her lips brushing lightly over my skin as she spoke.
she was still there when i woke up, snoring lightly. her leg was thrown over me and her arms were still wrapped around my waist. nika was practically a koala, but i didn’t mind.
i was just glad she was there.
most if the time when she came in the night, we wouldn’t talk at all and she would be gone by the time i was awake. usually i was asleep when she got there too. sometimes i didn’t even know she was in my room until she mentions it sometime during the day.
i trusted her, entirely.
it didn’t matter to me if she came in and out throughout the night and the morning.
after awhile, we just stopped talking about it. if she was there, then cool. we didn’t need to have a conversation about why.
im not sure what was different about last night and this morning. but i liked it. i liked talking to her, and i liked having her with me.
she was a cute sleeper too. her messy hair still looked perfect. i could just lay there forever, it was peaceful. but we weren’t going to, because nika woke up. she yawned and stretched her arms up, nudging me in the face with one. “g’morning.”
she peeled herself off of me, smiling up. “good morning. whats the time?”
i shrugged, “i dunno.”
nika got out of the bed, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with her. she didn’t let go when she started to talk, “hey, I’m sorry about last night.”
i smiled at her, it was more of a sad smile though. my thumb traced over her hand, “don’t be. everybody needs somebody.”
she squeezed both of my hands before pulling me into a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the side of my head. “no, i- you said you loved me, and i didn’t say it back. so i’m sorry about that.”
“its fine.”
she spoke quietly, almost like a whisper, “i do love you too, by the way.” she smiled.
i held her face in my hands, “good.” i pressed a light kiss to her chin. “you better love me.”
god, her smile was perfect too. she giggled and smiled again. “ill see you at practice?”
“three hours mühl. trust me, ill be there.” she pulled me into a hug, patting my back.
she pulled away, heading towards the door. “bye bye!”
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i walked into practice with my bag slung over my shoulder, barely awake.
i had fallen asleep again after nika had left, only waking up because paige barged into my room, woke me up by scaring me, then still made fun of my scream.
then she forced me to make her waffles, then complained that i had no butter. like…?
i held my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. “p be quiet, for one second please?”
“but-”
“paige. shh.” i took a sip of water and began walking towards the court, not realizing she was multiple steps behind me. at that point, it was too late.
she ran at me and jumped onto my back which sent up both onto the floor, laughing hysterically. i was curled into a ball holding my stomach because it was so funny it hurt. “paige, why?” i laughed out, hitting her over the head for payback.
“oh you did not”
she shot onto her feet and grabbed me, hoisting me onto my feet. i wiggled out of her grip and started to run away, laughing at her as she chased after.
i ran into a brunette girl, grabbing her shoulders in putting her between me and paige. “help! nika, help me please.”
“what did you do?”
i wheezed as i spoke because i was out if breath. “i-”
the blonde girl cut me off, “she hit me.”
“you practically tackled me!”
paige smirked before running around nika towards me, hitting me over the head. she laughed as she ran away, “paige! i’m done.” i spoke as i lied on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
nika leaned above me, shaking her head while smiling, “get up,” she spoke, dragging out her words.
i groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, ignoring her.
her hands wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me onto my feet. “put me down. its colder on the floor.”
“no.”
once my feet were on the ground, i turned around to face her. i didn’t realize how close she was, because our faces were an inch apart. “not so bad up here, huh?”
“its horrible. i’m getting water.”
she snickered as i walked away, finding paige again. i walked over to the benches, grabbing my water from my bag.
“hm. look what the cat dragged in”
i turned to face the girl, “paige. what?” i sighed, “what are you talking about?”
“nevermind. i have a question.” the blonde sat down next to me, leaning to whisper into my ear, “what up with you and niks?”
“nothing! what?”
“you know what i mean,” she wiggled her eyebrows at me, “i mean she totally likes you.”
“first of all, shes just my friend and my teammate. second of all, this is very random.”
she stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “it would be cute.”
“i guess.”
paige made an explosion sound and motion with her hands. “so you admit to it?”
“fine, yes. shes cute.” the blonde pulled me into a hug and swayed back and forth. “ill make it happen.”
im shutting this idea down. “no, p. your doing nothing.”
“but-” i held a single finger to her lips, silencing her, “shhh.”
“please just let me! trust me it will go perfect.”
i closed my water bottle, placing it down next to me. i went to answer her but coach walked in, the rest of the ream following behind. “alright. lets get started! running laps! go!”
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i was so sore. my legs felt like jello and everything hurt. i was laying on my bed on my stomach, scrolling on my phone. it was quiet, until nika came to my dorm again. she normally never came twice in a row, but i didn’t mind. “hey. whats up?”
“i need to talk to you.”
she was fiddling with her fingers and sweatshirts sleeves, a nervous expression pasted over her face. “i was talking to paige after practice today, and i-, uhm.”
“oh god.” i pulled my knees to my chest while sitting up in bed. breaking my eye contact with nika.
she closed the door and sat down in the beanbag chair in the corner of my room. “is it true?”
“yes,” i think i might kill paige. “niks, i don’t want things to to be weird.”
she stood up from the beanbag chair on the floor and walked over to the bed, sitting down next to me. “it wont be.”
“why, i thi-” i never got to finish my sentence.
nika grabbed the side of my face and placed her lips on mine, smiling into it. my hands made their way to her neck before she pulled away. “thats why.”
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charlewissss · 2 days
Text
𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓾
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ smut/NSFW, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, cursing, size kink
summary: three words: Red. Like. Passion. But red is also the color of the car driven by Charles. Red is your lingerie, as red as your dirty thoughts about the Ferrari driver…
author’s note: do not copy or give credits
The smell of alcohol, loud music, people crowded together, temperature too high: the definition of a busy night. A night in Monaco meant this to you. Boundless fun and one-night stands with whoever came along.
After your breakup with your ex-boyfriend, your sweet and delicate personality has transformed into hate and lust personified. Temptress with your gaze, you conquer every boy who looks into your eyes, driving him crazy.
This one night seems long and empty just like the others. You enter the club, approach the bar counter, and ask for a Bloody Mary. The bartender can’t take his eyes off of you because of how gorgeous you look this evening.
With your cocktail in your hands, you wander around the place feeling observed differently than on other nights. You begin to feel in awe, your skin begins to sweat for no reason. You turn around to understand the reason for all this, and you are struck by a pair of sea-colored eyes that study every curve of your body highlighted by the red silk dress you are wearing.
Brown hair. Ice eyes. Sexy body under the black shirt that struggles to contain his muscles. Who is this man? His appearance seems familiar, but you had never noticed him in the different clubs you frequent almost every night, you would have noticed his gaze and his charm.
So you decide to move in his direction casually. You walk past him and look at him with cat eyes and out of the corner of your eye, you notice him getting up from the sofa where he was sitting just a few seconds ago, following you to the bar counter. When you’re about to ask for a second drink, you hear a familiar voice say: “I’ll pay for the young lady, she’s with me, thank you”.
You turn towards him, meeting his gaze directly toward your breasts. To attract his attention you say in a confident voice: “Oh yes? So are we together? Is today our anniversary by any chance?”
The sound of his laughter sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. His aura of mystery makes you moisten between your thighs. No one had ever succeeded until now. “Who are you? Why do you seem to already have a place in my mind if I have never met you?” you think in your mind. “So what are you waiting for to drink? Are you going to stare at me all night, princess?” he says, smiling mischievously and moving his gaze toward your thighs pressed together.
Suddenly your favorite song comes on from the speakers so you take his hands, take him to the center of the dance floor, and start purposely seducing him with your sexy moves. You notice his gaze moving toward your hips and then looking at your ass every time you turn your back to him while dancing.
The atmosphere gets hotter and hotter until the sound of his sensual voice reaches your eardrums as he whispers: “How about we go away for a while, princess?”
That nickname drives you crazy, it makes you even wetter and more in need of finding out everything about the man whose name you don’t even know. Placing his hand on the lower part of your shoulder, he guides you toward the exit in a confident manner, leading you to his car.
You can’t believe your eyes: it’s a Ferrari 488 Pista, titanium-colored with a livery featuring red and white stripes reminiscent of the Monaco flag. You already saw that car before. With his hand, he motions for you to get into the car. Still shocked, you enter and observe the interior of it, just as beautiful as the owner. As you look around, you fall into the swirls of his eyes, now just millimeters away from you, which immediately bring you back to earth. Then, without asking, he starts attacking your mouth with his kisses.
You immediately turn your head slightly to allow him access to your neck. You feel his teeth on your sensitive flesh stimulating your pleasure, your nipples stiffen, and your hands tighten on the leather of the seat. His hands instead roam all over your body, exploring every area still covered by the soft fabric of your dress, which is slowly becoming more and more wrinkled due to the contact with his powerful body.
He leaves two purple marks on your neck, you still feel his warm breath near your earlobe. Without wasting time, you bring your delicate hands near the zip of his pants. You too, without asking, slowly unbutton it, until you glimpse a protuberance trapped in his Calvin Klein boxers.
Without speaking, you look him in the eyes and he responds with a nod of approval, encouraging you to continue. You quickly lower his boxers below his knees and take out his cock, already full of pulsating veins visible from afar due to how excited he is. This vision makes you feel so horny that you let out a moan of pleasure without him touching you.
You begin to move your fingers up and down his length, and then focus more on his head with circular movements. With your other hand, you stimulate his testicles so that he dies from the pleasure of having you. Watching his head go back in pleasure and his moans mixed with excitement and lust sends you into ecstasy. You bring your mouth closer to his cock, first licking it lightly and then suddenly taking it all in your mouth until it reaches your throat. This sends him into a frenzy, so much so that he can no longer feel his legs. You watch his abdomen contract and his moans become louder and louder as he holds your hair forcefully, pulling it slightly toward him to make his cock go as deep as possible into your throat.
He cums all over your mouth and hands. You look at him with eyes full of appetite and continuing to look at him you lick all the liquid from him, tasting it and swallowing it. This gesture drives him crazy enough to tear your dress and then throw it somewhere. He is shocked by the color of your lingerie. Fiery red like blood, like the stitching of the seats of his Ferrari, like the sex you are about to have. Quite violently he turns you around to unbutton your lace bra. Your lush breasts enchant him, enough to invite him to leave hickeys right next to your nipples. Your cries of pain infused with cries of pleasure are music to his ears, his favorite tune. He leaves hickeys all over your abdomen until he reaches your inner thighs. He looks at you with his icy gaze for a second, then takes your thong with his teeth and pulls it down until your crotch is exposed.
He enters you without any warning, enough to make you scream so loudly that the people outside the club look around. Luckily the windows of his Ferrari are tinted to hide the obscenities you are doing inside. His pace is fast like his car, his moans resemble the roar of an engine. Together you create perfect music, harmonious notes that blend with the noise of your flash making contact. As he moves inside you he bites your earlobe and moves to your right collarbone. You have never been so at peace. For the first time, you forget all the pain of your past, this man is magical. His cock adheres perfectly to the walls of your vagina. “Fuck you’re so tight, you're perfect for me, princess”. You can’t even answer him, you can only let out a moan of pleasure. Suddenly you feel a knot in your stomach getting stronger and stronger and then you cum hard like never before. “This man is phenomenal”, you think. After a few seconds, he also cums for the second time, still shouting how wonderful you are.
“So? Don’t you ask my name?” he says. “Is it possible that you don’t remember me, princess?”. Immediately that nickname, his voice, his toned muscles, and his icy eyes come back to your mind. It's Charles Leclerc. The famous Formula 1 driver. Your first meeting? A night of fire like this. You have tried to track him down but since so much time has passed you lost all hopes. “Charles,” you say, your pupils widening as does your smile. “I have never forgotten you, princess”. “I hope you can forgive me, it took me a long time to find you, but here we are, perfect as we were that night, made for each other”. With eyes full of tears, you lie down on the seat starting to fantasize about a future together, about a life full of red and love.
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unstable-samurai · 2 days
Text
Until You're Mine (Jealous Girlfriend) - smut
Momo x Male Reader
Word Count: 4k
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Tags: toxic relationship, jealous girlfriend, non-linear story, possessive girlfriend, first sex, penetration, boobjob, facial
She was awake when he arrived. She heard the door latch turn twice as it was unlocked. There were always two turns, fast and firm. Y/N saw her lying on the couch, watching another animated movie. It was the kind of movie she looked for when she really needed to be distracted, her escape valve or something, so seeing her there in front of the TV close to midnight (it was much later than that, but he had no idea), turned on na emergency light in his mind.
Normally he was the owl of that house.
“Hey baby, why’re you still awake?” he asked. “I said you didn’t have to wait for me.”
“I just felt like watching a Studio Ghibli film. Only that.” She explained without looking at him.
No fucking way it was just that. She was frowning. One of those moments where Momo turned into a bomb and it was up to Y/N to disarm it without it exploding. The problem was that this was an impossible task to do, any wire he cut would result in an explosion. And that was the last thing he wanted. His head was already a battlefield in itself. That damn company party had exhausted his social battery, which wasn’t much anyway. Y/N didn’t have the courage to provoke an aerial bombardment that night.
"OK. Is the film already close to the end? I can see it with you.”
He sat on the left end of the sofa, Momo didn't mind moving his legs so he could have more space.
“Did you have fun there?” she asked.
"Yes. Was cool."
"Just that? No details?" she questioned him quite insistently.
“You’re watching the movie, I don’t want to disturb you. In the morning I’ll tell you everything.”
Y/N had his head focused on the bath he was going to take in a while and how he was going to sink his head into the pillow. No more plastic masks, fake laughs, shallow people, please.
She paused the movie.
“What a ridiculous excuse. It sounds like you were trying to hide the things that happened at the party.”
“No, it doesn’t sound…” He was almost sure of it.
“Yes it does, you bastard.”
“It wasn’t even a party. We were all among work colleagues.”
“I've been to enough parties to know that it was YES a party. Loud music, drinks, pool, snacks. The complete package.”
“It’s a damn modern company, okay? They please the employees and pretend to be cool so that we forget the slavery we are subjected to on a daily basis. You kids had fun on Saturday and you’ll work overtime on Monday, okay?”
“Wait, I made a mistake. In fact: VIP package. They even hired prostitutes. Five star service.”
“Are you high or what?”
He was too tired to read the signs.
“I saw the way she kept touching you. The giggles... As if you were the funniest clown on the planet and she was a fucking hyena.”
Y/N abruptly stood up from the couch. He had finally understood everything. The last spark of his neurons, probably.
“There were no prostitutes. And I wasn't chatting up with any girls.”
"Oh, really?" She stood up too. “Let me refresh your memory, dear: short black hair, horse smile, lilac dress, can't stand alone unless she's supported by a man, small tits... Seriously, I don't know why she decided to wear that dress with cleavage if there was nothing there to show. Someone should tell her the truth. So, does this remind you of anyone, my love?”
The fucking bomb exploded in his hand.
“That was Rachel, a friend from work. How the hell did you see what was going on at the party?”
Momo laughed sadistically. Her wickedly beautiful eyes looked at him with intensity as she asked:
“Are you afraid?”
"No. I didn't do anything wrong to get scared. Did someone record me at the party?”
"Yes. And it wasn't just that. I also saw the stories of those who were at the party and you appeared in some of them in the corners. I saw everything.”
Here's a little overview of this relationship: A year and a half of dating. They met through mutual friends and the first deep contact was delayed, but when it happened it ended up becoming a path of no return. Y/N avoided her as much as he could, not in a way that would be noticeable and make him seem rude. But we were talking about an incredibly beautiful woman, aware of her attractiveness and unfettered by modesty. She was with a group of eight other beautiful and popular girls. Yes, she was elite. High caliber, my friend. Well, he was... quiet, an avid reader, calm and sometimes melancholic, but he loved being with his friends and enjoying them on the weekends, respecting his limits, of course. When he saw Momo for the first time he cowardly ignored her. She looks stunning in front of his eyes, wearing a short denim skirt, a baby tee that leaves her sculpted abs on display and her hair flowing in the wind as she dances. There was no way to predict that the plan would backfire; by not noticing her, Y/N became one of the few guys who didn't try to flirt with her. Apathetic guy, but handsome enough to take risks, the little boy who only swims in the shallow end, a plastic armor he forced himself to wear.
The reason? Momo didn't know, but she wanted to find out.
On one of the many night outs where they bumped into each other, Momo skillfully simulated an intimacy that clearly didn't exist between them, talking to Y/N closely, fake accidental touches, and killer eye contact. Abruptly, intimacy between them was forged and evolved in a short space of time. After a while it was no longer strange when they were among friends and Momo sat on his lap, or when she felt tired and rested her head on his shoulder. And Y/N could play hard to get, but he loved the attention he got from Momo, the controversial “bad bitch” (as some girls who didn't like Momo called her), the most attractive girl he knew was always glued to him, and the sexual chemistry that grew over time intoxicated his ego. Being with her made him feel good and more confident and also… shit, she was more than a superficial person or 'just another one of those teasing girls' like a lot of guys used to think. She had a unique way, attitude and things to say too.
“Were you acting like a stalker all night? Seriously, watching stories of other people trying to see me from the corners is a fucking weird thing.”
“And you've been acting like you don't have a girlfriend all night? I almost called Jihyo to drive me to this party to say a few things to that bitch. But I’m not that kind of girlfriend.”
“What is the reason we are arguing? This shit doesn't make sense. I'm exhausted..."
“Have you forgotten your promise? You told me you would arrive early...”
“I didn’t look at the time when I was there. I thought it was still early when I was leaving the party.”
A cynical laugh escaped Momo's mouth.
“You didn't even bother to look at your fucking cell phone to see the time. What is your problem?"
Y/N sighed. He should have already known that going to this party wouldn't be a good idea.
“You know I only went to the party to establish some contacts with the other branch. The damn job forces me to maintain a good relationship with everyone.”
"Poor boy! Does it also force you to talk to sluts?”
"This again?!”
“A little bird told me you were too close to each other on the couch.”
“Who was this damn person?”
“Why blow the heroine’s cover? Maybe she’ll be there again at the next parties.”
“Would you like it if I hired someone to follow you around?”
"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide, because I have consideration and respect for you, asshole!”
“According to you, I cheated you just by sitting on a couch talking to a co-worker. A colleague who can help me move up in the company as she has just been promoted.”
“Apparently it’s not just at work where she likes to be promoted.”
"What do you want from me?" he asked, feeling defeated.
"You know what I want."
“Honestly, I don't know. God must be punishing me for some sin I committed, that’s the only explanation.”
“Make me your girlfriend or your tormentor. You decide." She took a step forward. “You know I could be with anyone. But I'm with you ‘cause I love you, silly.”
If only there wasn't something genuine about it all.
Being alone with her knocking down topic after topic like dominoes was so fucking enjoyable, the way she laughed, the way she listened to him (Momo didn't interrupt him even during the long pauses he took when he needed to organize his line of reasoning, a mere peculiarity of his but which never went under her radar), the way she could be incredibly silly at times and, even without sharing many common interests, Momo liked having him explain things that were previously uninteresting to her. This attention he received was blinding and addictive. Growing up in a harmful and neglectful home, neediness was his compass and his weakness. But he never showed signs. Y/N was good at disguising it... He thought so.
Their first sex was an unforgettable moment, a path of no return, in the same way that a criminal remembers the moment of the crime that sentenced him to prison. It occurred when they were on a camping trip, good friends gathered, each to their own tent, campfire, marshmallows, snacks, stupid horror stories, and wine. One of the few moments where he felt slightly intimidated around her, as he felt Momo watching him like a predator, and after each glass of wine she became more and more intoxicated, grabbing Y/N from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “It’s very cold here” she whispered in his ear. And Y/N couldn't tell if it was the wind or Momo's velvety voice so close to him that made him shiver.
The hours passed incredibly quickly, eventually everyone retreated to their tents, and eventually there was a slow cessation of the noises of people, finally leaving only the cold whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves in the trees that surrounded the hill where they were camped and the symphony of insects orchestrated by crickets and cicadas.
He heard sneaky footsteps. It was certainly someone who needed to take a piss and didn't want to wake the others. But the footsteps got louder and louder until he noticed that someone was actually coming to his tent, stopping in front of the entrance. The flash on his cell phone was on (he was reading a book and the damn camp lamp was emitting a horrible orange light), so he pointed the light at the entrance of the tent and saw a very familiar silhouette.
“It’s me, Momo. Let me in!" she whispered. "Quickly!"
Y/N lowered the zipper, opening the way for her.
“What are you doing up?” he asked.
“I was sleepless so I decided to come and check on you.”
"I am well thanks."
She was wearing comfortable clothes. Striped pajama pants, a sweatshirt that was too big on her and her hair loose and messy. Y/N noticed that Momo had removed her makeup. It was the first time he had seen her like that.
"What are you reading?" Momo asked as she sat down.
“Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller.”
"Cool! What is it about?!"
How the hell was he going to explain this?
“About a guy living in Paris.”
"It seems good. Read a chapter to me.”
"How old are you?"
“Don’t be annoying. Let's do it like this: I point the cell phone's flash at the book and you hold it while you read to me. This way we can read lying down.”
Hard to refuse, hard to say 'no' to her.
“You know I love you too, Momori.” he said
Momo was wearing his long-sleeved shirt, she loved that shirt and, truth be told, it looked incredibly good on her. The legs so sensually exposed... Was that still a discussion?
“Sometimes you make me doubt this love, baby. Do you like making me look crazy? I swear to God you love seeing me jealous. When I get like this, does it make you horny?”
“No” he lied to one of the questions.
“You know how I am, Y/N.” One more step forward. She could touch him if she wanted. “And I only ask one thing: don’t talk to other girls. We establish a limit and then cross it, what is the purpose?”
Now closer he could smell her, her body that was warmed by the blanket. Nipples hardened through the fabric of her clothing.
“You look so beautiful...” he blurted out of her mouth.
“But I don’t think I’m beautiful enough for you since you try to be with other girls when I’m not around.”
"Is not true. I only have eyes for you, Momori.”
With a decisive gesture she grabbed Y/N by the collar of his social shirt. A noise escaped his mouth. Slowly she ordered:
“Say you are mine. Say you belong to me.”
He felt her head moving on his chest, he thought she was just looking for a comfortable position, until he was surprised by a kiss on the neck. And another one. And another, and they were getting more and more intense.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he lowered the book, the air escaping from her mouth.
“This book is really interesting and even put me in the mood to do something more fun.”
"What are you talking about?"
He had his hands pressed into Momo's arms, but he made no real effort to push her away.
“I know what you think about me. I know what you want from me. Don’t try to hide it now.” Her voice breathy and wavering. “I want to fuck you so bad, fuck!”
"Here?"
"Now!”
Y/N turned Momo around, placing her back on the floor and then getting on top of her.
“Momo…” His head was a hurricane. Was this really happening? “I've imagined the two of us doing this, but I never thought it could actually happen.”
There was a pause that was filled by a kiss.
“I don’t think you know how hot you are. Other girls were also eyeing you, so I decided to act quickly.”
Y/N lifted Momo's sweatshirt, and was able to appreciate and touch her abs for the first time. Kissing her abdomen was like an achievement, she knew how beautiful it was, that's why she never made a point of hiding it. The soft, slightly sweaty skin met his lips in a mix of sensations.
He lifted her sweatshirt a little more, exposing her juicy boobs. They were big, he knew that, but the first glimpse paralyzed him for an instant, he was amazed, and his hand filled with desire wasted no time in grabbing one of the tits while his mouth sucked the other..
“Oh, Y/N” she moaned.
The cell phone's flashlight went out as they rolled from side to side in the camping tent. Surrounded by the weak orange light of the camp lantern, the senses now seemed more heightened, the touches more intense and brazen, the breathing more labored and an uncontrollable lust, noticeable in several ways, such as Momo's pussy that wet his fingers when he touched her down there.
“I belong to you” he declared. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I am only yours, Momori.”
She smiled satisfied.
"Sit down!" she exclaimed harshly, and pushed him onto the couch. Momo certainly knew how to impose herself when she wanted, the mechanism of submitting him to her will through horny never failed. Sitting on his lap, she said: “You like to make me suffer, you know that? You like having your girlfriend mad so she can have hard sex with you and get you back on track. So depraved, baby!”
It was partly true, although he wasn't consciously acting to make her jealous. The problem was that this wasn't a difficult task, the girl was possessive as hell, so the options fluctuated between becoming a puppy on a leash or floating on the waves of a tide that could occasionally get... Aggressive.
"Do not say that. I don’t like making you feel bad.”
She kissed him, she felt Y/N getting excited down there.
“And yet you hurt me.”
He couldn't refute it, so her tongue had another use; warm and wet, she played with Momo's tongue. She sighed when he lightly bit her lower lip, slowly removing the pressure, enjoying her taste like a professional taster.
“It was never my intention,” he said. “Your jealousy is sick.”
“Living with you is hell, you know that?” she revealed. “But you always make me feel so surrendered." Momo slowly touched her nose to Y/N's. She whispered: "It’s a fucking hell, baby.”
Instead of responding, he decided to dedicate a series of kisses to her neck. Momo loved it, it was her weakness. She smiled while letting out small moans of satisfaction.
Momo stroked his dick and under the fabric of his underwear and pants he was already completely hard, waiting for her. She rubbed her hand on his dick eagerly while he felt her breasts and left hickey marks on her neck.
“Oh baby, I want your cock in my pussy so bad!”
He covered her mouth with his hand while he penetrated her deeply. The friends' camping tents were close to Y/N's, and Momo was moaning loudly, so it wouldn't be difficult to hear her in the silence of the night.
“Shhh! You can’t make noise like that!” he said breathlessly.
“It’s fucking hard. Your dick is really big.”
At one point she crossed her legs around Y/N's waist and he could feel her pussy getting tighter and wetter. Immediately Y/N laid his body under hers, penetrating her with force, feeling her pussy swallow his cock eager for pleasure. She moaned loudly, Y/N sucked on her tongue in an attempt to suppress some of the noise, Momo's eyes rolling back in pleasure as her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, as if she could never have him inside enough. Each thrust was an explosion of raw sensation, her insides wetting his cock urgently as he fucked her with wild love, each movement driven by desire that had been postponed for too long.
“Lie on your side!” Y/N asked.
He watched her with burning lust, his eyes fixed on her pert ass, eager to possess her in a different way. With one quick movement, he positioned himself behind her, his cock pulsing with anticipation as he slid in, feeling enveloped by the warm wetness of her wet pussy. He gripped Momo tightly, his hands marking her skin as he fucked her sideways, each thrust sending waves of electric pleasure throughout her body. Momo's moans filled the air, soft and sweet, mixing with the sounds of the wet friction his dick made as it slid inside her. All the touches, the intimate conversations, the looks that met and lost each other when they were in the circle of friends, the jealousy they hid from each other when one of them was talking to someone else, all these things led them to this moment , and now they assumed this feeling… making love.
Momo showed some of her talent when she rode his dick with her back to him, Y/N's body rippling with desire as she rode him with full force. Her hips moved with an erotic cadence, his cock disappearing inside her with each thrust as if he were plunging into a warm ocean. He squeezed Momo's fat ass, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the frenzy of sex, her moans intensifying with each thrust – fuck if anyone would hear. The tension between them was palpable, the air in the tent stifling as they neared their climax. And then, finally, Momo squirted, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, as Y/N watched her in wonder in the light of the camp lantern, her silhouette writhing with pleasure, so perfect, so sensual that he could fill her of cum at that moment.
Something he didn't do.
Things happened so fast that Y/N didn't have time to put on a condom. Well, truth be told, he DID NOT have a condom in his tent (not the kind of thing you think about taking on a camping trip with friends when you're a single guy).
“Cum for me, baby” she asked, her voice full of lust. “Where do you want to cum?”
“On your tits.”
It was one of Y/N's fantasies, it usually came to his mind when he saw Momo with cleavage. Now it all seemed so intentional...
Y/N stood on top of Momo, his desire burning so strong he could barely think straight. With shaking hands, he grabbed Momo's massive boobs, feeling his hard-on grow as he squeezed them tightly. Y/N wanted to feel every inch of that soft flesh surrounding his thick cock, he wanted to sink into that delicious sensation until he lost his mind. And then, without further hesitation, he began to move frantically, sliding his hard cock between Momo's breasts with great desire. Loud moans echoed through the tent as he gave in to the pleasure of that sensation, losing himself in the sensation of heat and pressure.
“You gonna cum for me, huh?” she asked between moans, making a point of maintaining latent eye contact while smiling naughty.
“Yeah, I'm gonna cum for you, baby! You're gonna make me cum, Momo.”
“please please, cum for me!! Yeah! Cum for your naughty babygirl...” she begged, hot as fuck, while biting her lower lip like a horny bitch.
And when Y/N finally reached the edge he let out a primal groan, his orgasm exploding in a hot shot over Momo's boobs and face. She looked so beautiful like that in the light of the camp lamp. Y/N brushed her face with his dick, making a nice mess on that adorable little face, and she smiled while this happened, Momo smiled until he finished his art, she finished the job by licking what was left on the head of his dick.
Uninhibited from any shyness, thanks to the endorphins his brain had released, he smiled at her, finding her the most beautiful woman in the world, and into Momo's precious eyes, Y/N confessed: 'I wanna love you.’
It's common to look for culprits in a dysfunctional relationship, who manipulates who, the prisoner and the jailer and all that old story. It's hard to admit that sometimes there is a dark pleasure in predicting events, returning to the same place that is your refuge and your sentence. Most people shoot at "emotional dependence", but few dare to target "connivance". Y/N felt like he was part of the second option. Repeat the fucking pattern, see the wheel spin in the same direction, the same trip as before. It's your pit of lies and acceptance, man, you smell the stench and yet you insist on moving forward, it's not much different than a dog licking its own vomit. At the end of the day, no one will tell you that you deserve better.
If you really deserve it.
"I remember what you said to me that night in the camping tent." She whispered, lying under his chest. "When we had sex for the first time. 'I wanna love you'. That's what you said. Your voice was so sweet and calm. I think that's when I realized that my feelings for you were really special."
The two were snuggled in bed, protected from the cold by the blankets, completely naked after having sex. This was always how fights ended, and the question that arose was: what's the next thing, now? An apology? Unfounded promises about how to improve as a person? Affectionate words to dissolve what was said during the fight? It was a mystery box.
"Those were the words? I honestly don't remember the exact words clearly."
"That's exactly what you told me. I slept with you in the camping tent feeling very happy."
"I was happy to be with you too."
"But at that time I didn't realize that you were actually still trying to fall in love with me. You wanted to love me, but you didn't really love me yet."
"I was a little confused at that time."
"What now? Are you still trying to love me?"
"I love you, Momori. but at the same time... I don't think we work together.”
"We agreed to it then. And honestly, does it matter?"
"I don't know. I feel like it doesn't matter anymore."
"Yeah! And look, we're not the only couple to go through problems like this. We're not alone in this, baby. Forget that Hollywood bullshit about perfect couples. It's not real. It's okay for me to stay like this, as long as we stay together."
"We always fix things."
"Making love is a great way to solve problems. That's our formula."
"Come here, my love" he said.
A/N: sorry for any grammar errors 🖖
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jacksonlywife · 2 days
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Falling Tears
(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)
(GN!Reader)
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Dazai Osamu:
We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.
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You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.
“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 
“Oh..what happened.?” 
“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.
“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.
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Chuuya Nakahara:
Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.
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You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.
You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.
“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.
“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.
“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.
“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.
“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”
You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.
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Ranpo Edogawa:
This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.
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Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.
Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.
“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.
“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.
“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.
Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.
“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.
“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.
You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.
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(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)
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jadestone2 · 3 days
Note
IM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH UR GUNS N ROSES + READER FIC AAAA I NEED MORE ITS LIKE A WHOLE NEW WORLD (please if you do write more I will be jumping out of joy (^.^)
Roses ‘n oil 
Theme: nsfw
Summary: Going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when someone flirts with you. They came up with an agreement to mark what’s theirs.
Pair: Boothill & Argenti x chubby reader 
Tw: bitting, oral (fem), praise
Song: Don’t go insane
A/n Don’t be shy to make yourself an official Noonie for my blog<33 you also didn’t tell me if you wanted sfw or nsfw, I did nsfw because I said I would for these 2 
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Maybe going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when fights are bound to happen. The moment Boothill saw there was an ongoing fight he instantly shoves his hat on your head, covering your eyesight. 
His hat smelled like his cologne and the nasty smell of cigarettes, a hint of oil smell too. His intense smells clouds your head, though you welcomed it.
You sigh, watching a table smashing into a guy’s leg. Boothill goes crazy, his demonic laughter filling the bar as people watch with anticipation.
“Ugh, why am I surprised? So much for a calm day” You say, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“It’s alright, my love. Boothill will be fine, how about I get you a drink?” Argenti asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
You nod your head, watching how Boothill doges glass bottles being thrown in his direction. Argenti could see how tense you were, he gently rubbed at your shoulder.
You watch the red man slowly dispersing into the crowd of people, the long red hair fading from your eyes. You sit in silence, still watching how Boothill seemed to enjoy making a scene. 
Suddenly the smell of alcohol smells stronger, a drunk man having a drunk smile on his face. Your eyes twitch in annoyance, he takes a seat by you.
“Looking good, darling” the man slurs, he looked like he was going to black out. 
His hands grab at the fat of your hip, squeezing. You cringe, removing his hand from your hip.
It felt like the fight stopped, the cheering slowly going dead quiet. You shiver, someone was staring at you with an intensity that would pierce through you.
The click of shoes as someone walks close to you, it sounds like they are getting closer, making you even more nervous. The sudden cheers getting louder, incision someone won. 
“Hey there, partner. I’d like to let you know that this little sugar is off limits” Boothill says, his voice coming directly behind you. 
You tense up when you see a revolver coming in your eyesight, pointing at the man. Terror strikes the man, frozen in fear. 
You could see him tremble, holding his hands out. Boothill chuckles when the man quickly walks away, almost tripping over his feet. That famous cocky smile on Boothill's face, facing you with amusement. 
“Was that necessary? Put that away, people are looking” You avoid, shoving his revolver into his pocket. 
“What’s happening, my love?” A familiar red hair asks, placing down your drink. 
“You were supposed to watch ‘er, she could have got hurt” Boothill grits, a glare sent Argenti’s way.
“Me? I went to get her a drink because you were stressing her out, starting a fight” Argenti says, you could see how he was starting to get annoyed. 
Argenti almost never gets mad, always so calm, but it was obvious Boothill’s antics were getting to him. The obvious conflict brewing between them, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. 
 “Guys, it’s ok— let’s just go home” You says, grabbing their hands.
You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol sending a sweet flavor down your throat, your taste buds tingling. Argenti and Boothill share a look, lifting an eyebrow. Boothill chuckles, putting a hand on his hip.
“Of course, sugar~ let’s just go back home” Boothill says, walking past you. 
“What’s that for?” You ask, confusion dripping from your voice. 
Boothill looks over his shoulder, his teeth showing as he smiles brightly at. You could hear the quiet chuckle from Argenti, deciding not to question it. 
The way back home was quiet, the sound of romantic music playing quietly, the click of Boothill’s boots. Argenti hums quietly, he must know this song.
He seems at peace, even though he seemed pissed earlier. It looked like something was bothering him, his brows furring in concentration. 
Honestly, can you shut the flip up partner?” Boothill says, glaring at Argenti.
You snort, guess he’s still not able to cuss. Argenti continues to hum, opening your house door wide enough.
“Sugarplum~” Boothill draws out, circling around like you were his prey, his hands tracing around your hip.
Argenti leans in, kissing your lips. He rubs at your cheek, the smell of roses fill your head, the cologne he wears. 
“Boothill!” You shriek, feeling sharp teeth sink into your shoulders. 
A tongue swirls around the area, coating the area in a thin sheet of spit on your neck. You stare at Argenti with pleading eyes as Boothill nimble on your neck, leaving marks. 
“Let us mark you, sugar~” Boothill coos in your ear, licking at your earlobe. 
Argenti carries you to the couch, helping you out of your clothes. The metal of Boothill’s hand sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps covering your soft flesh. 
“Mmh, you don’t mind? We want to worship you, your beauty” Argenti says, parting your thighs. 
The tip of Argenti’s tongue licks at your clit, drinking in the juices that coat your cunt in a shiny layer. He hums into your clit, tongue swirling around the engorged bud. 
“Do you have to fiddling hog her? Dang voice restriction!” Boothill grunts, shoving Argenti’s head out the way. 
Boothill eagerly laps at your cunt, leaving no area unexplored. You moan, plucking his hat off his head. 
“Serves you right, learn your lesson, you can’t keep cussing in front of children” Argenti chuckles, pinching at your nipples. 
Boothill grumbles, it sounded muffled since his head was buried in your cunt. His cold hands grab at your thighs, squeezing the chub.
“Boothill!” You whine, his tongue plunging in your clenching hole.
A sharp stung could be felt on your thigh, Boothill chuckling when you glared down at him. 
“Just marking what’s mine” Boothill teases, continuing to lap at your cunt. 
Argenti trails kisses back down, spreading your thighs wider. His tongue slowly rubs at your clit while Boothill’s tongue plunges in and out of your soaked hole. 
The wet sounds fill the room, the occasional groans from Boothill when you pull at his hair. Argenti pulls from your clit, his fingers pressing on the bud. 
“Good girl, cum for us” Argenti says, his fingers rubbing at your clit fastly. 
You tense up, throwing your head back. You tense up, drenching Boothill’s face with your cum. 
“There you go~ so good for us, my sweet” Argenti says, rubbing spare hair from your eyes. 
“I wanna watch a movie” Boothill grins, acting like his lower half of his face isn’t soaked in your juices. 
He sits beside you, his tongue licking most of your juices from his face. Your face goes bright red in embarrassment. 
These idiots just ate you out and now they want to watch a movie?! Argenti grabs at the remote, putting one a cheesy romance movie. 
“This reminds me of us” Argenti says, pointing at a scene where two guys are fighting over the lady. 
She looked so tired of their shit, like she was about to smack the shit out of their head. It was honestly so funny, you snickering when the two guys in the movie let out a pained cry when she smacks their head and scolds them. 
“Boring! Let’s watch a cowboy movie, right sugar?” Boothill asks, looking over to you with a cocky grin. 
“Don’t you dare” you warn, a disgusted look on your face. 
“You love riding cowboys? Especially metal ones, right?” Boothill says, laughing hard when you shriek and hit his head, even Argenti laughs.
You wonder if that woman in the movie was you in another universe, she seemed to have the same reaction as you.  
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Taglist: @sidhion @ihatelifesm @sneakylilbartender @missingtophat
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daycourtofficial · 2 days
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Ferocious beasts with soft bellies
Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some violence from dogs
Summary: Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.
Author’s note: hi everyone!!! Thanks for joining me this week, I hope you had a great time!! This one ends on a note I didn’t expect it to, but I do have plans to write follow-ups I kinda wanted to break this up into two. Also this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read as a standalone okay love ya bye 😘
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Eris’s hounds were incredibly well-trained. He spent thousands of hours when they were pups instilling in them commands, tracking and hunting skills, and alerting him to intruders on the property.
At least, they used to be well-trained.
These days Clover, the leader of the pack, would not allow you out of her sight. All twelve hounds wandered through your house as they pleased, often keeping you company in Eris’s absence. They would lounge about, finding warm sunny spots throughout the house to take afternoon naps in. You’d usually have one or two lazily trail you around the house, staying in the beds you had placed in several of the rooms.
Lately their attachment and sudden devotion to you was getting out of hand. Clover was practically sewn into your side the way she followed you around - she hardly let you out of her sight, keeping an eye on you at all times, following you as you moved through the house. She was even beginning to ignore Eris’s commands, opting to stay at your feet, following you around the house, or with her head curled on your lap.
When you and Eris publicly began your mateship, you had begged him to allow the dogs into your shared bed. “Just one,” you had pouted, “I don’t like waking alone.”
Despite his grumbling, Eris had obliged your request. Things with your family were still quite rough - it had been almost a year by now since you left the Night Court, being unceremoniously abdicated from the throne. You had been in contact with most of your family by this point except for Rhysand, who was still refusing to speak with you since he forced you out of ‘his court’, as he had called it.
Despite your best efforts, Eris still felt guilty over it, the rift in your family caused by the discovery of your mateship. You usually tried to soothe him, not wanting him to feel guilt over the decisions you made. You would choose him over and over again, and problems with Rhysand or any member of your family were not going to stop that from continuing. Besides, his guilt would be better suited as ire towards Rhysand.
Sometimes you did use his guilt to get what you want.
Which is why it initially did take Clover much coaxing to jump into the bed at all, a notion she thought ridiculous at first, but once her paws melted into the mattress, she was quick to lay directly on your side of the bed, placing her head atop your pillow.
“Traitor,” Eris had muttered as you cuddled up to her, petting her soft head.
After getting her into the bed, Clover spent most nights curled up at your feet or by your side, your nights often spent squished between her long body and Eris’s. Soon enough, you were back to asking Eris for another one to sleep in your bed.
“So Clover doesn’t get lonely.”
He spent ages debating with you that no, she doesn’t need a companion in bed with her. It was ridiculous. The three of you were enough for one bed, and he hated to think of how a second hound would complicate things.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he did quite enjoy it when he’d throw an arm around you in the middle of the night and his fingers would meet Clover’s soft fur from the other side of you.
It also soothed some minor worry in him to have you protected from all sides, despite your being more than capable of defending yourself. The mating bond was a precious gift, but it was also a minor curse with the way it coursed through his veins, needing to protect you, to keep you safe, and to keep you both satiated.
“Er, our bed’s plenty big enough for more hounds.”
“Yes, but they’ll get too spoiled. You’ve already turned Clover rotten.”
“I have done no such thing,” you cross your arms, trying to look utterly appalled at his accusation. He gives you a pointed look, then turns his gaze behind you.
Your gaze turned to the hound seated behind you, her long limbs spread across your bed, her little leg kicks and soft snores bringing a small chuckle to your lips that you quickly turned into a scoff.
“That proves nothing.”
In the several months since allowing Clover and Cinnamon in your bed, they were still obedient. They left the bed without disturbing you in the mornings, they rotated who laid next to you and who slept at the foot of the bed, and they would never go to bed without either you or Eris prompting them to.
That all stopped a few weeks ago.
Eris’s hounds had always been fond of you - Eris had spoken of them for centuries before you were able to see any of them. The way he had spoken of them had helped you see he was capable of caring about something that wasn’t himself.
That was its own revelation.
Meeting the hounds was quite nerve-wracking for you - he told you they were quite cold to new fae, and they had detested Lucien’s overeagerness to befriend them - a grudge they still held many centuries later.
“I believe they smelled the desperation leaking from his pores, tainted their perception of him,” he quipped.
Despite Eris’ warnings, you were not prepared for them to warm up to you as much as they had. He brought out his most trusted hound, Clover, to meet you, and you’re not sure if it was the way Eris’ scent was forever entwined with your own, but she warmed to you immediately. She circled your legs before sitting directly next to you, placing her head beneath your hand.
“What does this mean?” you whisper to Eris, not wanting to scare her or set her off.
“She wants you to pet her.”
Your confused expression makes his eyes dance with amusement.
“Surely you understand that means to stroke her head.” He raises his hand in demonstration, petting the air with a bemused look on his face.
You huff, “she could bite me, I apologize for wanting to wait a moment before touching a creature you’ve told me is dangerous.”
“She is dangerous, but surely she’s capable of being more than one thing.”
Nowadays she was capable of such a feat - she was not only beloved by you, but she was also a constant thorn in your side.
It started with subtle things, conversations with Eris where you tried to express how odd they were behaving one night while you sat in Eris’ study, helping him sort through correspondence from his brothers about the lands they oversee.
“Clover followed me into the bathroom.”
“Perhaps I should put some cushions for her to lay down while you bathe. I’m fond of the sight, perhaps she is too.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Er. She’s behaving strangely.”
Eris set the letter from Moros down, his attention fixed on you. “You spoil her, she is merely being affectionate. You’ll get used to it.”
Eris was wrong, Clover’s behavior only getting worse as the days went on.
“Clover, stay.”
Clover’s brown eyes observed you, your finger pointing toward the floor indicating for her to stay, tone full of finality - a princess’s tone, a high lady’s tone. You were determined to get the hound to listen to you, commanding her to stay in your chambers.
You passed through the door, heading down to speak with one of your advisor’s who insisted he speak with you as soon as possible. You rolled your eyes just thinking about his current issue with one of the trade routes that flows into Spring and how last time he wanted to speak to you, you enjoyed watching the vein on his forehead throb at your reluctance to take his ill advice.
Perhaps during this meeting the vein will pop, at least then the meeting would come with entertainment.
You look down and are startled when you see Clover’s body in step with yours, her fur shimmering in the light as if she were smoke rising from the ground.
Cauldron boil me, Eris is going to kill me if I’ve ruined all of their training.
You stop, pointing in the opposite direction, whispering, “go, shoo Clover.” You don’t even want to consider how she got through the closed door.
Clover just sits in front of you, her gaze piercing, seeing something you can’t. You blow out a breath, hands running through your hair, “okay, you may come with me.”
You’d regret those words.
Clover strode into the room before you, sniffing the air as her nails clacked across the floor. Her focus shifted to the male in the room, Flint’s eyes narrowing at her. She moved her body closer to the floor as she stalked towards him, the hair along her spine raising into the shape of a fin. Her ears were pulled back, a low rumble emitting from her chest.
“Clover!”
Your voice is chastising, but Clover does not let her guard down as she slowly approaches Flint. His eyes are full of fear as she approaches, her feet circling him. He spins in a circle, not letting her eyes leave his.
“Clover!”
You whistle her stop command, but she ignores it. She circled Flint the way she circles mice and rabbits.
She always loved playing with her food.
“What is this? Control your hound.” Flint’s voice is annoyed as Clover raises her head, baring her teeth at him.
“I’m trying.”
You move forward, reaching to grab Clover’s neck, instead missing and falling forward towards Flint. His arms catch your forearms, but Clover was not a fan of his touch and her teeth swiftly sank into the leg of his trousers. Her grip was strong as she tugged at his pants, and he began stammering, shaking his leg trying to rid his pants of her. He backed away toward the door, and once he reached the threshold, Clover let go of her grip, almost causing the male to fall over.
Her growls echoed down the hall as she watched him run down the hall before scampering back towards you, confusion and shock on your face at all that just transpired.
The hound just licked your face gently before laying next to you, her head in your lap.
You sighed, certain that Eris would kill you for ruining Clover.
Later that night, Eris made hisbway to your shared chambers, a bit surprised to find you already asleep. The hour wasn’t too late, however he had caught you dozing while reading over some requests regarding equipment for some farms.
He stripped his clothes, the finery being replaced by some loose trousers before moving towards the bed to find that the hounds had placed themselves on either side of you, Cinnamon occupying his spot on the bed.
“Cinnamon, down.”
The brown hound does not listen to the command, the only response a long sigh of her breath. He stared at the hound - a seventy year old beast who was one of the easiest hounds he’d ever trained, knowing how he expected her to behave from an incredibly young age.
Cinnamon was no Clover, but she was second in their chain of command. Clover was on your other side, soft snores coming from her snout.
There was plenty of room in the bed for the two of you, the two hounds, and, truthfully, several more hounds. Your preference for larger beds from when you had your wings never left after you lost them.
Eris laid in the bed, determined he could outmaneuver his hounds. He moved a hand out to your face, stroking your hair before a soft growl cut him off.
His hand stilled, eyes wide at such a response from Cinnamon. His nostrils begin flaring, heat rising to the surface of his skin in anger. He could feel the roar of the bond in his ears, frustration boiling within him at the defiance and aggression at him touching his own mate.
He tried to swallow it down, refusing to erupt in his own bed while you slept peacefully next to him. His fuse was a short one, his temper always loosely held back by a quick tongue that allowed him to loosen the reins ever so slightly.
He watched them, their bodies curled around your own and thought about your complaints of them following you around, believing it to be a consequence of your softness towards them.
You were spoiling them rotten. You were a few weeks away from giving them table scraps, for Mother’s sake. But then his thoughts veered into Flint’s description of what occurred, Clover guarding you from Flint’s touch like a mother hen-
His heart stalls in his chest, a heavy realization settling over him as he sits up, Sierra growling softly at his abrupt movements.
You were pregnant. You had to be - it was the only logical conclusion other than all twelve of his hounds losing their minds simultaneously. They must be able to scent it on you before fae senses could pick them up.
He wonders briefly if Lucien’s magical eye could see it.
Eris lay frozen on the bed, his thoughts swirling with what to do, how he was going to handle this. He was still quite new to his tenure as high lord - the work wasn’t unexpected by any means, however his position was still quite vulnerable - new power always attracted violence attempting to see how far that power extended.
Things were still difficult in your personal lives - he and Lucien were on tenuous speaking terms, you and Rhysand were not on speaking terms. The two of you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.
It was all so damn complicated - you hadn’t had a coronation as high lady yet, wanting to wait until Rhysand would show up to have the ceremony. The logistics of a babe at such a crucial turning point politically could open Eris up to glaring vulnerabilities.
Long fingers tap at his chest, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in reality. He had no confirmation for this - his reasoning behind such a theory were founded on the strange behavior of his hounds. He was being a ridiculous fool to get so worked up over unconfirmed theories.
Yet the image of a swaddled little thing kept gnawing at his mind - tiny toes, a tiny nose, tiny fingers wrapping around his. He had adored his brothers when they were much younger, when the world under Beron could be disguised as a good place. Perhaps he could do it.
Eris laid awake for several hours, your soft breathing calming him as he sat and thought about all the possible ways he could ruin all of this.
A tiny part of him let himself hope that, in spite of it all, he wouldn’t.
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mrsparrasblog · 2 days
Text
You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader
TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation
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Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.
You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.
"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.
"Babe, please."
"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.
"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.
"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.
When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"
"Got in some fights around the base."
"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.
"Don't want anyone else."
"Kyle."
"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."
You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.
"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.
"Love—"
"Let me clean you."
He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.
"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."
"Kyle, I can't lie to you."
You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.
"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."
"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."
"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.
"He understands."
"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.
"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."
"Let me fix this."
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John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.
"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."
"Cheated on you, deserve it."
"I know it was Johnny."
"Lie."
"Kyle told me."
"Oh."
"Can you forgive me, John?"
"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.
"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?
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"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.
"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.
"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.
"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."
"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"
"There will be, and then we'll be happy."
"You're sick. This will never happen."
"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."
"No one will believe you."
"They will."
And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.
"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."
"Hen, please."
You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?
"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."
"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.
"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."
You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"
"Love, don't believe—"
"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"
That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.
"Luv?"
"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.
Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.
"Johnny?"
"Go away, Lt."
"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."
"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."
"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.
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