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#like the word pretty was invented for him
suddencolds · 2 days
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Purely Instinctive | Ki//ller Pet//er
Extremely competent assassin who handles every difficult situation inventively and with ease? What if he fell ill... 😭 (4.2k words)
This is a little different from what I usually write, but I've been reading Ki//ller Pe//ter on Webt//oon (link), and... um, this fic practically wrote itself. This might be the most self-indulgent thing I've written this year. Let's not talk about it 😭
For the sake of the fic, all characters are in their early twenties (aside from Peter, who is obviously a lot older). If you haven't read the series, they're all assassins who work for an organization called the Gl//ory Club. That's pretty much all you need to know :)
Here's Peter (under his current identity, Sun-Gu Kim) and Yuna:
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The drive to the warehouse is unusually quiet.
The mission is simple—find an international spy, currently en route to escape via a ship which departs from the harbor at 6am, holding onto highly classified documents which he’s not supposed to have. The moment he steps foot off of Korean land, he will become much more difficult to apprehend—the ship the target is planning to take is a large cargo ship, its whereabouts easily tracked, but the Glory Club bounty has specified that the target will most likely part ways from the cargo ship on a small rowboat. There’s no telling at what point he’ll split off from the cargo ship, or where he’ll be headed next, which means:
They have only two hours to apprehend the subject before he becomes substantially harder to track down.
Yuna reaches up with a hand to rub her eyes. Of course, serving as part of Glory is no 9-5 job—she hadn’t expected volunteer missions to always take place at predictable times. But they’d gotten assigned to this particular mission on short notice, which meant that she’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep, tops, before having to drag herself out of bed for this.
They’d been whisked out on Sun-Gu’s motorcycle—the St. Petrus V4, she recalls. Somehow, Sun-Gu had known exactly where to head. How he’d known, with the entire city laid out in front of him, Yuna isn’t entirely sure. But he’d explained that the target’s trajectory would probably not be a straight line to the harbor—that would be too easy to intercept, and Sun-Gu had assured the target would be aware there would be someone on his trail. He’d probably avoid main roads, then, where there would be a higher chance of getting stopped by the police. Then, out of all the remaining routes from his last tracked location, it would only be feasible to get to the dock on time through six of them.
The rest had been intuition. Sun-Gu’s familiarity with the city is impressive. He barely glances at the street signs as he drives, the night warm and stagnant, his motorcycle dialed to silent, and not for the first time, Yuna wonders how he seems to know all of this.
Speaking of Sun-Gu—
Something is different about him tonight. Yuna probably would not have noticed, had she not spent the entirety of the motorcycle ride sitting behind him. He’s incredibly subtle about it. But it’s there, nonetheless—a slight change to his demeanor. Something nearly imperceptible, something she can’t quite pin down.
Had Yuna not known better, she might have attributed it to tiredness. But in the couple months she’s known Sun-Gu, she’s never seen him tired. He sleeps, like the rest of them, of course—he is only human—but for him, the transition between sleep and wakefulness seems like more of a formality. That is to say, he wakes up immediately alert, and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him tired.
It makes her wonder, a little, if there’s a reason to it. If there was ever anything in his life which mandated being a light sleeper, that required him to be up at a moment’s notice. Either way, it’s not the reason why he’s—off isn’t the right word. Different is more suitable. Typically, he’s in better spirits. But Yuna has seen him pissed off, and this isn’t it, either.
Sun-Gu parks the motorcycle just outside of the warehouse, unclips his helmet in one swift motion, and—after Yuna gets off—takes her helmet from her and stashes them both under the motorcycle seat, which Glory has designed to be self-locking. Then, without waiting to see if they’ll follow, he makes a lap around the periphery of the warehouse.
The Dokgo brothers have tagged along too—they’re being quiet, now, which perhaps is mercy enough. Probably Sun-Gu had given them a challenge to shut up, and they’ve taken it in good faith. Now, even when they have something to comment, they keep their voices to a whisper.
“What do you think he’s off doing?” Biggie says.
Junior shrugs. “Maybe taking a walk, to relieve some stress.”
“He’s looking for signs of entry,” Yuna tells them. Then, because she can’t help it, and because she’ll be a little pissed off if they’re the ones who end up jeopardizing the mission—“Remember what he said about being quiet?”
“Ah, shit,” Biggie says. “I am quiet. Maybe you should be quiet. Have you considered that?”
She ignores the both of them and heads over to the spot where Sun-Gu stands, now, his eyebrows furrowed. A slat that’s out of place. He pushes it, and it budges.
Underground, the ground rumbles underneath them, and then settles to reveal a trap door. 
Sun-Gu beckons for them to follow him, but he doesn’t wait up for them. Yuna quickens her pace to keep up. The trap door leads them down, down. The air underground is much cooler—Yuna finds herself wishing that she’d brought a thicker jacket.
Ahead of her, Sun-Gu—
Takes in a sharp breath. But no, it’s not just a breath. As she watches him, he lifts a hand, pinches it to the bridge of his nose. His shoulders jerk forward, though only slightly; his back muscles tense. All in all, the entire display is soundless.
Yuna’s feels her eyebrows creep up. 
This is certainly… new for him. But she doesn’t have time to think on it right now.
When they get to the bottom of the steps, the stairway opens out into a deserted hallway: cement walls, cement floors. It’s dark, and cavernous. This whole place feels empty. It’s a little creepy, really. Why Sun-Gu suspects that their target is hiding out here, Yuna isn’t sure. It seems counterproductive to hide out somewhere like this when, according to their intel, the subject has limited time already to make it out to the harbor.
That is, unless Sun-Gu suspects the intel that they were given might be wrong.
Sun-Gu switches on a flashlight he’s carrying and heads deeper in. It’s not until he stops, looking down the hallway to survey his surroundings that he hesitates, only for a moment. He lifts the collar of his shirt over his face, his shoulders tensing.
“Hh’—nKTtt-!”
The sneeze is practically soundless. That makes two times in one night. Something is definitely up, then. Yuna looks around. Perhaps the underground space is dusty, or perhaps it’s not well-ventilated and it’s grown mold, and he’s allergic. Except, the air down here feels remarkably dry—not the sort of environment mold would thrive under—and the floors look suspiciously well-maintained. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be something else, either—some other universal irritant. Sun-Gu is the only one here who’s sneezing. 
Yuna isn’t sure she’s ever heard him sneeze before, out of the months that she’s known him. Could it be some existing condition, then—not a product of their environment, but something from earlier?
“Man,” Junior mouths, from somewhere. “How much longer are we going to have to head down these hallways? They all look the same.”
Yuna turns to glare at him, puts her finger to her lips. “Longer if you aren’t quiet about it.”
“I don’t like this,” Biggie mutters. “When can we get to the fighting? All the lead-up is boring. It feels like we’re in some kind of horror movie.” Yuna squeezes her eyes shut, prays that they’re far enough from Sun-Gu—and, by extension, the target—that they can’t be heard. 
Sun-Gu stops, abruptly. He holds a hand up behind him, as if to say, stay back.
Yuna doesn’t know what he’s noticed, at first. But a moment later, she hears it—the click of a latch being undone, somewhere overhead.
Above them, a small trap door opens, and then pulls shut. A cylinder drops from the ceiling, leeching violet plumes of smoke. On instinct, Yuna pulls her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth.
Tear gas, she realizes—or something chemically similar. It’s some sort of aerosolized compound, meant to render them both less capable of seeing and—partly by extension—less capable of fighting. Her eyes tear up almost immediately, so much that she can barely keep them open. Her lungs burn in protest as she takes in a breath.
They’re in a long corridor. There’s a finite amount of smoke coming from the canister—if they wait it out, it will inevitably thin out. So this was more just a distraction, then. A flashy entry. Just enough time for whoever they’re up against to—
It takes her a few seconds to spot the figure through the smoke. 
She thinks back to the files on the subject. Medium, reddish brown hair, pale blue eyes. 182 cm. Trained in combat. The stranger in the hallway has their face obscured by a gas mask, their hair hidden under a hood, but she can tell by the musculature of their exposed arms that they appear to be well-trained. In their right hand, they are carrying a long, slender weapon. From one end—attached to a metal chain—is a sphere, lined with spikes, each of them carved down to a sharp point.
It must weigh half a ton, from the way it drags the chain down, but the figure wields it easily, as if it weighs absolutely nothing.
“That’s our guy!” Junior yells, at the same time as Biggie shouts, “Stop right there!”
Both of them charge forwards. It all happens in a split second. The figure adjusts their grip on the weapon to turn the wooden handle of it outwards. Then, before either of the brothers have a chance to react, they’re swung outwards by the sheer momentum of the rod. Biggie hits the ceiling with enough force that the concrete above them rumbles, the impact spiderwebbing the ceiling above them. Slabs of concrete rain down from the point of contact. The figure drives Junior straight into one of the walls at an awkward angle which renders him almost immediately unconscious.
Yuna can feel her own heart pounding in her ears. She slinks back into the darkness, pressing herself to the ground so that hopefully, the stranger will forget that she is there—or that she is even a threat to begin with. Seeing what they’re capable of, she isn’t sure she could do much in this situation to begin with.
How long has it been since the last time the path split off into multiple routes? When Yuna turns to look, the hallway before them and after them seems to stretch on and on. An endless concrete tunnel, with the white, sterile lighting of a laboratory space. Nothing to shield themselves with, and nowhere to hide. It’s a strange location to pick a fight in. What exactly was this place built for? 
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the figure says to Sun-Gu, grinning. Half of their teeth have been replaced with gold tooth crowns. When they grin, the gold catches the light, winking. “Thirty seconds, huh? Your teammates couldn’t even hold their own for that long? It’s a damn shame. I didn’t even get to use the weapon as it’s intended to be used.” They tilt their head, staring down at Sun-Gu with a look of contempt. “I guess you could thank me for being merciful. But if I’m honest…”
Their smile darkens into something sharper, something hungry. “I just didn’t want to stain a flail of this quality with anyone’s blood but yours.”
Was this entire mission a setup, to get Sun-Gu into one place? Is the subject really in possession of any classified documents at all?
Sun-Gu twists away—not to evade, or not in preparation to attack. His shoulders hunch forward, his expression twisting. He coughs, roughly, down towards the ground. It’s the kind of cough that suggests that he’s been coughing like this for some time now—harsh and throat-scraping. 
That’s when it registers for Yuna.
He’s ill. It seems painfully obvious, in hindsight, now that she’s realized it. 
During the motorcycle ride here, he’d been careful not to touch her, Yuna realizes. Sun-Gu is always careful with his own space—he has an awareness of it, even outside of combat, that she thinks would be unusual for most. Even with small things—the ways he gestures, the way he holds himself—she gets the feeling that none of it is accidental. 
When she looks at him now, she notices—a slight, near-imperceptible flush to his features. He’s breathing a little more heavily than normal. Instincts he can hide. Instincts he can cover for. But there are some things which no amount of physical awareness can hide.
He has a fever, then. That’s probably why he hadn’t wanted her to touch him. He’d known that if she’d made contact with his skin, she would’ve felt it, and she thinks he probably hadn’t wanted to raise any concern.
Sun-Gu is here, on a mission, fighting a well-trained stranger on his own, equipped with nothing but a pocket knife, with no armor and no with no reinforcements. On any normal occasion, Yuna might trust him to be able to hold his own—she’s seen what he’s done, alone against a crowd of hundreds—but this time, it’s different, because Sun-Gu is unwell.
The figure looks surprised, at this. “Ah,” they say. Yuna can’t help but think they look like a predator, honing in on their prey, only to find that said prey is already bloodied and limping. Like someone surprised—but pleased—to find their job already done for them. “Don’t tell me you’re already not in tip-top shape? That’s a shame.”
Sun-Gu coughs, again, his chest shaking. Yuna feels a pang of worry in her chest. He really does look unwell—and he hasn’t said as much of a word to deny it, which is telling. She looks around for anything to help him with— If she were to call for reinforcements, she thinks it would take too long for them to find them all here, underground, in the elaborate array of tunnels.
The weapon they’re holding is heavy, which affects its maneuverability, and to some degree, its speed. But Sun-Gu’s knife is much more of a close-range weapon, which means that while Sun-Gu will have to get up close to them to even make a mark, the stranger would be theoretically able to fatally wound him while standing a meter away.
The figure presses forward. With the swing of one hand, the metal ball and the chain arc outwards neatly, directly towards Sun-Gu. For such a heavy weapon, Yuna is surprised to find that this person wields it with impressive speed. It’s nearly too fast for her eyes to track. Sun-Gu evades, easily, but the figure swings again, and again, and again. At this speed, it almost looks as though they’re slicing the air into shreds.
If Sun-Gu were to be hit, his body would stop all of the momentum at once, and the spikes would easily puncture skin, drive themselves into tissue and skin and bone. Worse, Yuna realizes, if the weapon makes it to Sun-Gu’s body—even if it’s lodged in a relatively nonfatal area—the figure will easily be able to drive it directly into a vital organ. That means that if Sun-Gu fails to dodge cleanly on just one occasion, this fight will be over.
That’s another thing, too. Sun-Gu’s radius of attack is limited by the length of his own arm. But the figure can stand in one place and swing the weapon anywhere that the length of their arm, the long rod, the chain, all put together, can reach.
“If I had a little more patience, I might even have waited for you to get back to full health, so that this could be a more memorable fight,” the figure says.
Sun-Gu’s breath hitches. His opponent is not kind enough to pretend not to notice. They drive forward, intending to use the moment of temporary weakness to their benefit, just as Sun-Gu jerks forward with a forceful, “hHh’EEZschHH-uH!”
Sun-Gu evades, but only barely. How he is able to predict the trajectory of the metal ball, even distracted, even with his eyes closed, Yuna isn’t sure. But it’s clear that he isn’t done, and by the time his eyes are already falling shut for another. He’s afforded a sharp, desperate breath, before his shoulders jerk forward again. “hH’nGKt-! Hh… hh-IIIH’DZSshH!”
He coughs, after, as if the sneezes have somehow irritated his throat further.  
The stranger grins. “...But I suppose having your head as a prize would be consolation enough.”
They sweep the chain in a wide arc, directly for Sun-Gu’s neck. Sun-Gu crouches for a moment, then takes a running leap up into the air, righting his trajectory with one foot to the wall to land behind them. He’s put his knife away, Yuna realizes. But there is nothing here—no props, no furniture—for him to repurpose into a weapon.
“Sorry,” Sun-Gu says. The expression on his face is not one of remorse. It’s one of clear, bitter irritation. He’s annoyed, she realizes. “You’re right. I’m not feeling my best today.”
It’s an admission, loud and clear, but the way he says it, it doesn’t sound like an admission of weakness. Up until now, he has been observing, Yuna realizes, as he’s done before—passively taking in the stranger’s fighting style, their handling of their weapon, their habits, their tells. 
“So,” Sun-Gu says, flatly. When the stranger swings again, Sun-Gu snags hold of the chain while it’s in mid-air, and—as if it’s weightless—yanks the stranger towards him. He takes hold of the chain with his other hand, testing its weight. The smile on his face is utterly cold. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”
Afterwards, when they leave the warehouse, the sun is starting to rise. Yuna finds a text from Glory Club on her phone from an hour ago, presumably from the chairman. It’s curt: Do not proceed. We have reason to doubt the motives of the group which supplied the intel. Ironically, there was not enough reception underground for their warning to reach them in time, but she thinks that Sun-Gu must’ve realized much earlier. 
Biggie and Junior are a little worse for the wear, but other than that, neither of them is concerningly injured. Biggie claims that he doesn’t have a concussion, but he doesn’t put up too much of a fight when Yuna insists that when they get back, their first stop will be to the medical ward to get fixed up. 
Speaking of Sun-Gu: he is quiet, which is not unusual. Sun-Gu has never been the most talkative person, but Yuna suspects that today, there’s more to it. 
“I can take us back,” Yuna says, trying not to make it sound pointed. It’s usually Sun-Gu who steers, but Yuna has enough experience with the St. Petrus V4 to handle a forty minute trip on paved roads, and enough experience too to know how to speed just enough to stay in control of it.
“It’s fine,” Sun-Gu says, flashing her a distracted smile. “It will be faster if I drive, because I won’t have to navigate.” He retrieves his own helmet from the seat compartment. Yuna spends a moment to watch him. He isn’t injured, nor does he look any less alert—he’d gotten out of the battle without so much as a scratch to show for.
But there are little hints, here and there, to exhaustion. The way he clears his throat before speaking, so quietly she can’t tell except for the slight bob of his throat, the slight furrow of his eyebrows. The way he pauses to clip his helmet, shielding his face with one hand from the gleam of the rising sun, as if his head is already hurting. The way he looks relieved to be sitting down, the way his hand lingers, a little shaky, on the motorcycle handles before he steadies it, looking faintly annoyed. 
Of course, for someone like Sun-Gu, where—on the battlefield—any sort of slight miscalculation could be the difference between life and death, where trusting his body to function exactly as he’s used to is crucial for his success, Yuna isn’t surprised that any sort of bodily inefficiency would be an annoyance, even more so for Sun-Gu than for most.
At the same time, as she stares at him, she has to wonder—just how long has he been unwell? Had she not been awake during the battle—had she been unconscious, then, like the other two—would she even have noticed? How many times in his life has he been ill and just proceeded? Yuna doesn’t know what his relationship to Peter is—whether he’s a long lost cousin, or someone who trained under him before, or something else. But she knows, from the way he fights, that he must’ve had years of combat experience even before he joined Glory. No one is born with that amount of expertise, that level of near-inhuman intuition.
In the past, when Sun-Gu found himself in life-or-death situations, had he proceeded like he is now—as though everything were normal? As though any affliction he was suffering through privately was not even worth the attention of his own team? It makes sense, she thinks—that he wouldn’t broadcast any weakness openly, especially for any potential adversaries to listen in on. But if he’d been so careful to hide it from all of them, how would he take it if she acknowledged it out loud?
“Is something wrong?” Sun-Gu asks, watching her now. 
“No, nothing at all!” Yuna says, quickly. Think, she tells herself. She returns his smile, a little sheepishly. “I was just thinking… I’m a little hungry. Do you think we could stop at a convenience store on the way back?”
Sun-Gu blinks, a little surprised. But then he nods. “Of course,” he says. 
She fiddles with her own helmet until it’s securely on. Then she gets onto the motorcycle, behind him, and waits for him to take off.
True to his word, Sun-Gu stops at a 24/7 convenience store on the way back. But when Yuna asks him if he wants anything to eat, he waves her off with another smile. “Not enough time has passed after that fight,” he says. “I’m still too worked up to eat something.”
Bullshit, she thinks, but she steps inside the store nonetheless. Inside, it’s heavily air-conditioned, pleasantly cool. She picks out a sandwich from the fridge for herself, and one for Sun-Gu, while Biggie and Dokgo—who have followed them here on their scooters—load up on containers of cup ramen and ready-made hot fried chicken. Yuna snags a bottle of water from the fridge. Then she’s sure no one is looking, she takes a blister pack of aspirin off the shelves, along with a travel pack of tissues, and pays for it through the self-checkout station.
Biggie and Junior are still inside by the time she’s done shopping, so she heads outside, the plastic bag in hand.
She finds him still seated on the motorcycle, his helmet still on. He’s sitting ramrod-straight, his shoulders stiff, his head ducked slightly to avoid the sun. To anyone else, he might look alert—perhaps even nervous—but Yuna knows better. It looks as if he is doing everything in his power not to fall asleep.
His breath hitches. He gasps, his body jerking forward with a loud, “hHHD’TSHhh-Uh!”, which seems ridiculously unrelieving for how loud it is, and sighs, tenderly massaging the bridge of his temples. So the headache from earlier hasn’t gotten any better, then. 
She watches him for a moment longer—watches him duck forward into his arm with another ticklish sneeze, and emerge with a liquid sniffle—and wonders when this had all started to feel like second nature.
Caring about him, that is.
When he hears her coming, he looks up to her. “Done with breakfast already?” 
“Not yet,” she says. “But I got you a sandwich.
“Ah, thanks,” he says. “Though, didn’t I say—”
“You’re not hungry right now, I recall,” Yuna says. “You can save it for later. But I have something else for you too.” 
She hands him the aspirin and the bottle of water. Sun-Gu stares down at them for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing.
“I am not injured,” he says, at last.
“I know,” Yuna says, casually. “The aspirin is for your headache. That’s been bothering you all morning, right? It might help with your fever, too, but I think the best antidote for that would be some proper bedrest.”
For a moment, Sun-Gu just stares at her, his eyes a little wide. Then he laughs. “You really don’t let anything past you, do you, Yuna?”
“That’s right,” she says, crossing her arms. “So you were trying to hide it.”
“Not exactly,” Sun-Gu says. “I just didn’t deem it worth mentioning.”
“Three to five days of bedrest, and lots of warm fluids!” Yuna says, jabbing a finger into his chest, accusingly. “That’s what people recommend for illnesses like this. Not a killer mission first thing in the morning!”
“You are very prudent,” Sun-Gu says, looking mildly amused.
“You don’t think it might’ve helped to mention your illness to someone you trust? The chairman, or even me?”
“I fail to see how that would’ve made any difference. It’s not as though the mission could have waited.”
“Fine, then.” Yuna says. “You might not agree to take it easy. But I’ll keep noticing as long as you keep being irresponsible.” She means it as a threat—that in the future, if he ever dares to be so reckless, she’ll be the first to notice. And if Yuna thinks he should be resting, instead of on a mission, she’s not going to keep her mouth shut about it. 
But when she looks over at Sun-Gu, he is smiling. 
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hornyandsadvampire · 2 months
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We don't appreciate enough lemon hair Gerard
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kisaraslover · 3 months
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Kisara being shy and Seto being cold-natured is a good thing because if they walk the earth together as lovers its atomic levels of dangerous like these twos souls are caught in an endless loop of submission and dominance and forever fated to long for each other with 5 millennia of built up longing when they start getting sweet THEYRE GETTING SWEET like theres no way theyre living like this?? everyday?? you cant feel that much its not possible?? CHILL. No??? well witnessing them side effects include nausea, fainting, headache, heartache, ears ringing, hands shaking, disorientation, all stroke symptoms etc.
they need to be contained by their own reserved natures for everyone elses sake is what im saying
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keeps-ache · 1 year
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i have a headache and a sweet tea so i'm ready to fight the universe again
#just me hi#i also have a homemade burrito but that doesn't give me half the strength this sugar water is giving me#though i Am nourished now so that's pretty nice#//really tho i am so tired of head hurting. why must it be this way :/#i assume i've been getting headaches from the bright light (i.e. the Sun or Parking Lot Lights) so this sucks lol#//SO much lettuce in this britto rn !! i am going full rabbit on this shizz#top 5 words my dad would kill me over: britto hvbdjfhj#lettuceeeeeeeeeeeshjbshbdhsbjvebjsvishdsbhvbskvsjn#//oof i Apparently have some sort of ~mineral deficiency~ according to ma and i had to take Pills ://#which is normally fine‚ i take horse pills like a champ and i like to rub it in my brother's face#but these ones were NASTY. GROSS. just absolutely EW.#and also ig they were the ones that make you nauseous so Whatever i guess#was also subjected to the torture known as 'two spoonfuls of black molasses' that i haven't experienced since the michigan summer of '15#it's NASTYYY#that stuff Lingers !!! what the hewk man !!!#god invented that stuff to punish 10 yr.ols that's the ONly reason it exists trust me#my brother (same brother) Likes it too like. yeah of course Mr. BaconCookie likes the black molasses#and i just found out my OTHER brother likes purple-flavored stuff so now i have to disown him smh#(purple-flavored ??? grape. it's grape. tho yea it doesn't taste like grape so i guess it Is just purple hfhdjhf)#i'm never trusting them again (food-wise) this is just Terrible#//aw shnizzle i dunno if i went over the tag cap fvhsvs#let's see i guess oᵕo
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yuujispinkhair · 6 months
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So how is no nut November going w modern boyfie sukuna? Idk if u can get him to participate but if he does I bet he makes the whole month as torturous for u as possible.
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 400 Warnings: 18+, smut, creampie, praise, face shot, overstimulation, light dub-con. All characters are of age. Credit for the banner @/benkeibear
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Sukuna just huffs and rolls his eyes when he hears someone mention No-Nut-November. Your boyfriend never believes in abiding rules, especially not ridiculous ones like that! Who invented that shit anyways?! Sukuna will show them how much he doesn't let anyone tell him what to do!
He makes sure to nut in you exactly one minute after midnight to say a big fuck you to No-Nut-November, so proud of himself, moaning and smirking against your neck,
"Hmm fuck yeah, feels so good to nut in my girl. What a lovely way to start November."
He's an idiot, but it's incredibly charming somehow. And after all, he also makes sure to make you nut so good that you scream his name and leave scratches on his muscular back, so why should you complain?
A sane person would let it go after that midnight fuck. But not Sukuna. Your boyfriend is a rebel. If someone tells him to do No-Nut-November, he will take it as a personal challenge to nut as often as possible this month.
You whine beneath him, exhausted from all the times he made you cum in one session, pussy throbbing, clit pulsing hotly, both your bodies sweaty and the bedsheets soaked from all your combined cum. You feel light-headed, weakly running your hands up and down Sukuna's flexed, tattoed biceps as you look up at him with your eyes wet from tears,
"Kuna... Baby, I can't go another round... it's too much."
But your pink-haired menace of a boyfriend just smirks and snaps his hips faster, meaner, going even deeper, pounding your sweet spot so good that you mewl his name.
"Aww, princess, we are going at least two more rounds."
But he turns sweeter a moment later, leaning down to trail kisses over your neck while he humps your pussy with slow but deep thrusts.
"My princess can take it. I know that. You're my good girl after all, aren't you, baby? Aren't you gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?"
Of course, you do, your pussy clenching helplessly around Sukuna's talented cock, squealing his name as your legs shake weakly, and your face feels so hot you think you have a fever as you shudder around his fat cock with the next mind-blowing orgasm.
And Kuna chuckles smugly, followed by a low groan of "Yeah, see, I knew it. That's my good girl. I love you, princess."
He pumps your overstimulated pussy full of another load of his thick cum, before giving his little Anti-No-Nut-November performance a cherry on top by nutting one last load over your pretty face this time, just to make sure.
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PLEASE I NEED HIM SO BAD!! Sweet anon, thank you for sending me this!! Sukuna can always use me for his personal vendetta against NNN uwu ;)
I hope you enjoyed this little drabble!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
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jason todd but he treats you like you invented sliced bread
jason todd but he gags at the thought of people that aren’t you checking him out and trying to get with him
jason todd but he calls you princess and buys you whatever you want
jason todd but he’s taller than you, stronger than you, and yet still the most gentle person you’ve ever met or been with
jason todd but you both tease and flirt with each other like you’re still in the honeymoon phase
jason todd but he acts like your guard dog
jason todd but he kisses and bites at your neck until you’re weak in the knees
jason todd but he eats you out until your legs are shaking from how many times you’ve come before he even thinks of pulling his cock out
jason todd but he’s folding you over his arm and fucking you so hard you’re dizzy
jason todd but he calls you pretty all the while like it’s the only word he knows
jason todd but he cleans you up after, cuddles you for hours
jason todd but he already has you asking when can you do it again
jason todd but you wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee the next morning
jason todd but he’s the best boyfriend in the world
1K notes · View notes
animeismyhappyplace · 3 months
Text
The Devil's Salvation
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Synopsis: Lucifer's heart is hurting due to the recent extermination. In an effort to help shift some of the pain Y/N, his assistant, attempts to distract him with her body.
Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel.
Word Count: 5K (5,930)
Trigger warnings: 18+ only!!!
Boss/employee relationship, power imbalance, biting, marking, hickies, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral (m.recieving), sex on furniture, cowgirl, dick riding, possessive language, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweets, dear), fluffy ending, some Dom/sub/switch undertones, descriptive sex scene, Lucifer is a total cutie, some very minimal angst directed at extermination day rather than the characters.
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The sky in Hell is dark and bleeding red as another extermination comes to its gruesome end. 
Lucifer is slumped over his desk with a sour expression on his face as he throws one of his rubber ducks across the room "another year, another fucking blood bath" he grumbles to himself as he hears footsteps coming to his invention room. 
He hears a few knocks as a soft voice breaks the silence "it's over Lucifer, can I come in?" His assistant Y/N asks quietly.
Lucifer's red eyes light up as his mood perks up "of course dear! Come in, come in~" He leans back in his chair, letting loose a small yawn scrunching his nose as he does.
He glances at the rubber duck laying on the ground, and then back at the woman in front of him "what brings you to my office?.." His voice remains soothing as he finally looks at her properly for the first time that day, she's wearing a red dress shirt with a matching striped skirt pretty similar to what he is wearing ‘cute, very cute’ he can't help but think with a small smile. Her dog-like ears flat against her head as she bows to him.
"I wanted to check on you sir, I know extermination days are taxing on your health" she frowns as she takes in his appearance, his hat has been placed on his desk, his staff nowhere to be seen and his eyes have large bags under them.
Lucifer gives out a soft chuckle, before putting one hand to his temple "yes, yes thank you for your concern, my dear. You are right, these kinds of days can be exhausting to say the least" 
He glances at her noticing her ears still firmly pinned to her head so he tries to offer a small smile but it doesn't seem to work very well, she can see right through him. 
"It's reassuring to know that someone cares about me in this shit hole, you're truly the best assistant I could ask for”
A small blush settles on her cheeks and her ears perk up a little as she shakes her head dismissively "it's my job to worry about you sir" she chuckles softly almost under her breath.
"As per usual for this time of year I've cleared your schedule so you have no commitments for the rest of the day" she's smiling as she speaks but Lucifer notices her brow is furrowed ever so slightly.
Lucifer raises his eyebrow, taking notice of the sour look on her face. 
“Your concern is appreciated, and I’m grateful to have you by my side"
He pushes himself forward in his rather large chair and sighs.
"It’s nice that you cleared my schedule for me... I need a rest” 
His tone remains soft with a subtle hint of affection, but his attention is captured by your worried expression.
"What’s wrong?" He asks in a soft tone.
Her eyes slide off to the side focusing on one of the mountains of rubber ducks, she sighs as she collects her thoughts before looking back at his scarlett eyes.
"The head exterminator, Adam, has made contact sir and he wants to meet. Wouldn't tell me why though" her brow furrows again more deeply this time as anxiety sinks into her heart.
Lucifer frowns as he processes the information.
"Adam made contact?" He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. 
"And... he didn't tell you why?" Lucifer's voice has a slight hint of suspicion, and his expression turns more serious as Y/N shakes her head solemnly 
"No, he refused to answer my questions, just said "arrange the meeting bitch" and flew off with the others" her nose crinkles in disgust as she thinks back to the arsehole angel.
Lucifer grunts in frustration as he stands up from his chair.
"That man sure is arrogant... but this is rather suspicious” Lucifer strokes his chin, pondering this sudden event.
"I'll take care of it, no need for you to worry~" Lucifer offers a reassuring smile and a gentle pat to her head, although the frown on his face shows a hint of his frustration.
Y/N starts to speak but thinks better of it as she watches Lucifer pull out his phone while walking into the hallway. 
He comes back a few minutes later and explains that his daughter Charlie will be taking charge of the meeting so she can pitch her hotel to the angels. Y/N nods in understanding as he speaks.
"I'm sure she'll do brilliantly sir" Y/N smiles and Lucifer can't help but smile back at the young assistant, and chuckles at her words.
"Charlie will do great," Lucifer agrees "She's certainly more than capable of handling the meeting"
As Lucifer talks, he starts to pace around the room, his gaze distant as he thinks to himself.
The young woman tilts her head to the side slightly as she watches her boss "what's on your mind sir?" She presses gently, taking note he seems more lost in thought than usual.
Lucifer's eyes trail back to his assistant.
"I'm just thinking, my dear. It's strange that the head exterminator would make contact as opposed to showing up at the doors" Lucifer's brow was still in a puzzled expression. 
Without much detail he continues to speak, sounding more concerned "It's.. not a great sign.. something's wrong, I feel it in my bones..”
Y/N walks towards Lucifer and takes a hold of the cuff of his pearly white jacket gently.
"Please stop worrying sir, I'm sure Charlie will do fabulously at this meeting and you'll know soon enough what Adam's plans are. Please sit and rest" 
She pleads as she gently guides him back to his chair. Lucifer's eyebrows raise at her sudden action, but his eyes warmth and comfort as she urges him to sit back down.
"You're right.. I'm just letting my depression get the better of me HA HA” he tries to fake a laugh but it's hopeless, and walks back to his chair, sitting down.
There is a long stretch of silence, but he gives her a charming smile, offering one last glimpse of comfort.
“Thank you, my dear”
"of course sir, let me get you something to drink" 
She bows as she leaves his study to find something to calm his nerves 
Lucifer leans back into his seat, the tension slowly receding as he waits for her to come back. He glances at the rubber duck still lying on the floor, and rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. Despite his efforts to stay calm, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about this whole predicament.
Y/N returns quickly with some tea "this should help soothe some of your worries sir" she smiles as she pours him a cup of the warm beverage. Lucifer nods, his smile growing as he sees the cup in her hands. 
"Thank you, my dear. You know, you're very perceptive of my needs.. I'm quite lucky to have you as my assistant" he says as he takes the cup from you.
She smiles brightly while nodding "I should hope so Lucifer sir, I've been working for you pretty much since I arrived in Hell" 
Y/N clears away some of the papers scattered across his desk, keeping them safely to the side so as to not potentially spill tea on them.
Lucifer chuckles as he takes small sips of the tea, his eyes taking in the details of her movements as she clears up his desk.
"Indeed you have, you've been the best assistant I could ask for.." 
Lucifer's tone is much warmer now, and he takes a big sip before continuing.
"Although I suppose I've never asked, how long have you been here in Hell in total?”
"Only a few years now but I guess it's not so bad down here, especially since I get to work for you" she smiles as she holds the tray the tea was on to her chest waiting for him to finish up. Lucifer's cheeks heat up as smiles, taking a few more sips and finishing up the tea.
"Well... I suppose I can't argue with that, especially when you say it so sweetly" Lucifer chuckles, brushing his hand through his golden hair.
"It's good that you feel right at home here. I'll admit, Hell can be a bit... overwhelming when you first get here”
Y/N clears away his used cup and places it off to the side as she's cleaning up she notices him walking up to a large window, looking down at the carnage left behind by the angels with a deep frown set into his usually delicate features.
"Sir?" She asks softly as she sees his shoulders tense up.
Lucifer pauses at the window, taking in the destruction as the bodies litter the streets.
His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from his previous lightheartedness, as his expression becomes very serious.
He glances back at Y/N, taking notice of her concerned glances.
"Hm?..." Lucifer says, his tone sounding rather calm "oh, it's nothing. Just.. observing, is all.”
Y/N sighs sadly before joining him at the window to see what he's looking at and when she does, she understands.
She can see the devastation left behind, sinners dead bodies piling up, the streets ablaze as overlords fight for new unclaimed territories. She can see the weight it leaves on his heart.
"This was never what I wanted you know all those years ago" he sighs but doesn't look at her, even with his attention fixed outside she can see the hurt swirling in his usually shining eyes. 
Y/N lifts her hand tentatively to Lucifer's back in an effort to comfort him, even if it's only for a moment.
Lucifer turns his focus from the carnage back to the younger woman, and is caught slightly off guard by her sudden and kind gesture.
Lucifer’s red eyes are full of sorrow as he looks back at her, the weight of his burden clearly settling on his soul.
As her hand rests upon his back, he finds himself calming down, almost as if just her touch was enough to soothe some of his suffering.
"you can't blame yourself sir, you couldn't have known what would happen" ears twitching as she frowns at his pained expression, rubbing slow circles against his back.
Lucifer sighs sharply, leaning his back against her hand as she calms him with soft circular motions.
"You're right, I couldn't.. but I still do..." Lucifer mutters, his voice sounding much softer now.
There is a brief moment of silence, where he appears to just absorb the comforting warmth coming from her touch.
"That's a lot of weight to carry... even for a king" her hand stills on his back for a moment as she pulls away moving back towards his desk away from the window.
"I have a feeling things are going to change, very soon sir. Thanks you and your family" Y/N smiles as she rests against the edge of his desk. 
Lucifer’s eyes dart over to her as she steps back and leans on his desk, his smile returning slightly at her optimistic words. 
"Yes, I have that feeling too...." 
Lucifer mutters thoughtfully.
"But regardless of what comes, I hope that you will always be here by my side, helping me carry whatever weight the future holds..." Lucifer says, his voice sounding slightly solemn yet also reassuring.
"You're my king Lucifer, I will be here as long as you desire" as silence slips between them Y/N clears her throat before speaking again "I'd say you use a distraction right about now sir" 
A sweet and genuine smile touches Lucifer's lips as he raises an eyebrow.
"A distraction?.." Lucifer's voice is 
 playful as the gears start turning in his head.
She hums sweetly as her fingers drum anxiously against Lucifer's desk her eyes on his carpeted flooring "well Lilith has been gone for years now, you've been alone all that time" 
Her eyes flit up to look at him "you must have been so lonely sir, you should look into fixing that" she watches for any changes to his body language with a barely hidden smirk. 
Lucifer takes a moment to digest her words letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.
"You're being rather bold my dear..." 
Lucifer smiles softly while shaking his head with his eyebrows raised and a blush spreads across his pale cheeks 
"Ah.. well.. I've not been entirely alone now, have I?..." His tone is playful, but she can feel the flirtatious nature behind them. 
She bites her lip while smiling "you're right Lucifer, I've been right here" 
She bats her eyelashes at him acting as sweetly as she can whilst pushing herself just off the edge of his large desk "and I'll always be right by your side sir" 
As she bats her eyelashes at him he chuckles, a blush deepening his cheeks slightly.
There's a brief pause as his eyes scan over her body, taking notice of the cute way she's leaning on his desk. He speaks coyly back at her.
"Is that so?"
"Tell me dear, if I... needed someone to lean against.. would you be ready?”
Y/N leans forward to grasp his hand gently so he could pull away at any time "haven't I already shown I'm ready to stay by your side?" 
She looks into his eyes as she tugs on his hand prompting him to come closer "I know how much Lilith leaving hurt you but I wouldn't do that ever" 
Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he watches her take his hand, tugging him inches closer.
It takes him a moment, but Lucifer gently pulls her closer, until she is right in front of him, their bodies almost touching.
His breath catches as his eyes stare back at her doe like expression, he can't quite believe how cute she looks right now, her nose almost touching his own. Lucifer pauses, and glances down at her lips. His eyes flicker from her lips, and back to her eyes.
"You really won't, will you..?" Lucifer mutters quietly, sounding a bit breathless.
"The sweetest sinner in all of Hell" he almost whispers with a smile as his hands cup her face, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her cheeks 
His tenderness shocks her though it really shouldn't for how long she's known him and she closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying their closeness and his tender touches 
Her hands sneak up to his red striped dress shirt, pulling him ever closer bridging the gap between their bodies. Her lips stop just short of his own, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath. 
She looks into his eyes and waits for him to decide if he really wants this, wants her.
Lucifer's heart almost stops as she pulls him close, his mind spinning rapidly making him dizzy as he realises how long it's been since he's felt affection like this. His eyes fixate on her cherry red lips, watching as she gets so close he can feel her body heat. He hesitates for a moment as he worries what will happen if things go wrong but he leans forward needing to take this risk.
Lucifer closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her so tenderly as though she'll break the second he lets go, and his hands grip her body tightly, pulling her even closer.
Y/N's hands grip Lucifer's waist as his hands move to pull her face closer, deepening their kiss.
Her chest is heaving slightly as he kisses her with more passion than she's ever felt, leaving her breathless.
Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink when Lucifer finally pulls away, she giggles as he bites his lip red irises watching her intently 
Lucifer's breath is still staggered as he pulls away from her lips, red-faced and blushing. He pulls himself away from her, as a light-hearted grin spreads across his cheeks.
His eyes glance down to her lips, and his brows raise.
"It seems my assistant has gotten a bit too familiar with me~..." Lucifer teases with a playful smirk.
She gasps pushing at his chest playfully while giggling at his teasing words "who in Hell could blame me when my boss looks like this" 
She bites her lip as she intertwines their fingers pulling him towards the lavish chair seated behind his desk, she gestures for him to sit as her hungry eyes rake down his form.
Lucifer chuckles as he allows her to pull him towards the chair. As he sits down comfortably, he notices the way she's looking at him and he smiles, his golden eyebrows raising up in a flirtatious manner. He gives her a playful wink.
"You're a real handful, my dear.. I hope you know that?”
She smirks as she climbs into his lap, licking her lips as he lets out a surprised grunt "oh I'm counting on it sir" 
A sly smile forms on Lucifer's face as he glances up at her.
He lets out a little laugh, amused at her boldness. His hands trail softly up and down her sides, his fingers tracing little circles against her skin as he bites his lip muttering with a grin "fuck sweetheart you're going to be the death of me”
Y/N shifts slightly once in his lap, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable, looping her hands around his neck as she steals his lips in another kiss.
Her tongue licks over his bottom lip as he hungrily accepts her affections. 
Lucifer's body immediately responds to her touch, his entire frame heating up as she kisses and nibbles softly at his lip.
His fingers tighten around her hips, pulling her closer, and his other hand trails her body from her hips all the way to her neck.
Lucifer pulls back ever so slightly, his breath staggered, feeling as if he might melt from the heat rising between them.
"You're lucky I don't get visitors often sweetheart, who knows what vicious rumors would be spread if you were caught in my lap" Lucifer mumbles in between kisses.
Y/N's kisses trail across Lucifers lips to his rosy cheeks then down to his jaw as she starts nibbling at the delicate flesh "I'm sure you'd find a way to silence them"
Hearing Lucifer's sinful groans, her hips start to gently rock back and forth as her tongue laps at his neck, sucking harshly in the places that make his groans deepen.
Lucifer's breath catches in his throat as his back arches slightly with every gentle kiss. Just the feel of her breathing heavily against his neck drives him crazy, the heat rushing through his body and spreading like a fever.
He bites his lip to prevent himself from letting out any more noises, his head lolling back slightly as she sucks on his neck. A breathy groan escapes him without notice, as his breathing grows more rapid, his cheeks redder. 
"f-fuck I need..." He whines as his hands fly out to grip steady onto her hips, grinding the growing tent in his pants up against her.
Her skirt starts to ride up as his body jolts from the stimulation, her breaths leaving her throat in hiccups as she feels him poking at her inner thighs. 
"L-Luci~" she moans breathlessly, her hips stuttering as he rubs against her clothed core.
Lucifer's jaw muscles tighten as he grips her body tighter, almost going mad listening to her sweet sounds. 
Her voice sounds like a soothing melody to his ears, and he can't hold himself back any longer. He begins to kiss her throat, and even licks the skin between her neck and shoulder biting softly.
Y/N whines as he teases her body, lolling her head back to give him more space to mark her neck and shoulder. 
Lucifer pulls back once he's satisfied with his work eyeing the claim he's laid on her body. Her breath catches in her throat as he lifts her from his lap onto his desk.
"My dear, I dare say you've never looked more divine than you do right now" he bites his lip as she's laid out before him, her chest heaving and her legs spread as he slots himself between her thighs. 
Y/N runs her fingertips along the edge of her skirt before she starts to slowly and teasingly tug it upwards revealing more of her body to her king.
Lucifer watches her slowly and teasingly tug your skirt up with interest. His eyes trailing up her body, taking in every inch of her skin as she reveals more of herself to his greedy eyes.
A breathy groan escapes him at the sight as he grips the meat of her thighs tightly. Spreading her legs out as he licks his lips at the damp patch on her underwear a low whimper escapes his throat "you'll surely drive me mad, sweetheart" 
He utters softly, as a blush spreads across his cheeks. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Her cheeks heat up at his sultry words making her whine in embarrassment and hunger "Luci please" 
Her hands reach out to grasp at this forearms, gripping tightly as she tries to wiggle her hips looking for some attention to be paid to her heated skin.
Lucifer's mouth twitches at the pure desperation in her eyes, his hands trailing up and down her legs before moving back to the top of her thighs to her thighs. He gives them both a quick squeeze, drawing her attention back towards him.
His soft whispers carry a hint of playful teasing. 
"Pretty desperate for my attention huh?" Lucifer asks in a low voice as his red eyes watch her reactions carefully.
She nods helplessly as her eyes fog up with unshed tears, his teasing touches pure torture as his fingers leave heat and desire everywhere they touch.
"N-need you to do something, anything... Please baby" she pleads as her arms reach up above her head to grasp at the edge of his desk. 
Lucifer bites his lip, and he can't help just how much her words excite him... her hunger is so apparent, so raw, and the way she begs for what she wants does nothing to help the problem in his pants.
He leans in closer, his eyes darting to her neck and jaw before he quickly dips his head down, his mouth placing a short peck of a kiss just above her collarbone. 
His kisses continue down her body until he reaches the band of her panties. He gives her one firm look, as if to say ‘tell me know if you need to stop’, but she shakes her head and lifts her hips, wiggling them teasingly making him smirk.
"Who knew my soft spoken assistant would be so greedy?" he mutters with a smile as his thumb pushes into the wet spot on her panties making her gasp at the sudden stimulation. Enjoying her reaction he moves his thumb up slightly to rub against her clothed clit, grinning widely when her thighs tremble.
"This is what you wanted right sweetheart? wanted my fingers to play with your cute little pussy?" 
Her head nods aggressively as she bites down on her tongue to stifle the wanton moans waiting to escape. 
She can't help but rock her hips forward against his hand wanting more, needing more as her skin feels like it's been set alight with passion and desire. 
Lucifer chuckles softly as he watches her squirm under his touch, licking his lips as he feels her slick coat his thumb. 
"Ah ah ah, you need to use your big girl words if you want something from me" he grins wickedly.
"Need your fingers Luci" she pouts cutely when he raises his eyebrow at her.
A smirk spreads across his pink cheeks as he pulls her panties down her legs and throws them off to the side, sucking in a breath as he admires her naked body, wetness and need shining across her skin "Yeah? where do you need me hmm?" 
A stray tear streaks down her cheeks as she whines "n-need your fingers in my pussy, fuck please Luci! I-I need-" 
Lucifer grins wickedly as he watches her squirm under his gaze, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose then to her cheek and he even places a soft kiss on her fluffy ears before straightening back up. He smirks at her desperation, sliding his fingers into her dripping pussy and grinning widely as she lets out a shaky moan.
Y/N's head lolls back and her eyes roll as she finally gets the stimulation she needed, whines tumbling out of her strained throat as her hands turn white from her gripping so hard at his desk "f-fuckk..." 
Lucifer watches her closely, his fingers curling inside her wet heat, relishing in the way she squirms and begs for more. 
He leans down once more, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmurs, "Talk to me sweetheart... Tell me how good I make you feel?" 
His fingers curl upwards his thumb swipes across her clit making her almost cry as the pleasure wrecks through her shaking body.
Her thighs shake as sweat starts to pool against her forehead, her hips bucking wildly at the onslaught of pleasure Lucifer is giving her "I- you- fuuck so fucking good, love your t-thick fingers Luci”
Lucifer chuckles softly, pleased by her response as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her wet pussy faster, his thumb continuing to tease her clit with feather-light touches. 
He can't help but lean down to place another kiss on her collarbone. His teeth graze along the soft skin, eliciting a shiver from his lover.
Y/N's sweet moans and the wet squelches of her abused pussy fill the quiet room, a strangled cry leaves her chapped lips as his fingers bump a spongy spot in her tight walls, he almost stops his movements as the realisation hits making him chuckle "Theree it is, that's the spot yeah sweetheart?"
She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers as her moans pitch up in volume, she can't help but babble as the pleasure builds "there.... fuck d-don stop" another desperate whine "gonna cum... fuck! fuck! FUCK!”
Lucifer smirks as he watches her lose control, her body arching off the desk in search of more pleasure. His fingers curled deeper inside her, finding that spot again and again as he relished in the power he held over her. 
Her eyes roll back as her walls clamp down on his fingers, his thumb rubbing tight circles over her throbbing clit until her high slowly ends. 
Her breathing is erratic as her high tingles over her limbs before slowly ebbing away leaving her body limp, when her eyes can fully focus she sees Lucifer slurping up the wetness coating his fingers.
The sight alone is so sinful it sends fresh waves of need flooding through her veins as her hands reach out for him.
Lucifer grins mischievously, watching her every move. He licks his fingers clean with a soft moan, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. 
"You're irresistible," he murmurs, his voice rough with need.
She gently guides Lucifer down to sit in the plush chair "your turn baby~" 
Y/N licks her lips as she sinks to her knees before him, running her hands over his strong thighs. Slowly moving her way up until her fingers hit his pristine white belt, she discards it off to the side of the room as she works on pulling down his suit pants, smiling sinfully as she notices the wet spot soaking through his boxers.
Lucifer groans softly as he feels her hands on him, his cock twitching in anticipation. He watches her with hooded eyes, a mix of desire and possession in their depths. Her thumb rubs over the wet spot making his hips jump at the sudden pleasure.
"You like making me cum on your fingers this much Luci?" she grins as she flicks her tongue over the wetness moaning softly at the first taste of his pre.
"I love seeing you so submissive, it drives me wild," he answers, his voice deep and husky. He watches her hungrily, his eyes locked on the sight of her teasing his cock “and those cute little moans you let out? Truly sinful baby” 
She hums to herself as she pulls the suffocating materiel down his legs joining the growing pile on the floor, her eyes widening as she takes in the size of his cock for the first time mumbling more to herself than to him "such a pretty cock”
His eyes squeeze shut tightly as her delicate fingers reach out to explore his body, her pink tongue licks up the length of his cock so suddenly it makes Lucifer suck in a breath as he groans "definitely going to be the death of me sweetheart... f-fuck~" 
His cute reaction makes her smile and raises her confidence. This time she flattens her tongue, rolling it over his slit taking the time to lick up all the precum drooling over his cock head, moaning as it coats her tongue and bottom lip. 
Lucifer's breath hitches at the sensation, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. He bites his lip, trying to keep control as she lavishes him with her attention "such a good fucking girl f'me" 
His soft grunts and groans raise in volume as she starts to suck on his swollen heads, flicking her tongue over his slit as her hands pump his length "f-feels too good baby... You gotta stop or I'll cum too quick, wanna cum in your pretty little pussy"
She giggles but concedes giving him one last long lick up the length of his cock following the thick veins she finds before she allows him to lift her onto his lap. 
Once settled she gives him a deep passionate kiss tasting herself on his tongue as his hand dips between their bodies to line himself up, rubbing his cock over her clit once then twice before finally sinking into her tight pussy. 
Lucifer's hands grasp her hips tightly as he feels himself sinking into her wet heat, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He groans deeply into their kiss, his tongue dancing with hers to muffle their sounds of pleasure.
He holds her hips tightly in place as he fills her up fully "y'gotta stay still for me sweets or I'll finish right now 'kay?" 
She nods as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as she adjusts to his massive size. 
Her body shakes as his thumb rubs on her swollen clit making broken moans slip from her throat as he suddenly thrusts his hips upwards making them both groan " 'kay you can move now, you gonna ride me pretty girl?" 
Her arms loop around his neck as she starts to slowly lift up then sinking back down so he's filling her to the hilt. After a few slow movements her desperation increases, finding a place to steady both of her feet she starts to bounce on his cock, the angle making his head hit her sweet spot with every thrust. 
Sweat starts to coat both of their half naked bodies, pain starting to set into her limbs but the pleasure he's giving her is too good for her to break, her head falls back and his hands grip her waist tight helping her to rock up and down at a steady rhythm.
Lucifer's hands tighten on her waist, one sliding down to the small of her back while the other grips the flesh above her ass cheek as she rides him. 
He groans deeply, watching as his cock sinks into her tight walls with every movement and rocking his hips in time with hers "love this tight little pussy~ could have been fucking you like this for years if I'd known how well you take me sweetheart" 
Y/N preens at his praise, doubting her efforts. Her throat constricts with every moan but if feels so good she couldn't care less "need you to keep fucking me Luci, love your cock sooo much feels too good”
Lucifer's eyes glow a dark red with lust as he looks up at her, one of his hands sliding up to grab her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers the other dripping lower to play with her clit, drilling his hips up into her dripping pussy "I'm not stopping until you cum on my cock sweetheart~”
The pleasure he's giving her is too much for her spent body, her thighs start to shake as the coil tightening in her stomach threatens to snap "yes yes yes Luci baby shit!~ m'close so fucking close" her walls start to calm down on his cock.
"Fuck" he grunts, his thrusts becoming jerkier and harder as he feels her start to tighten around him "Come on sweetheart, let go~ need to feel you cum on my cock~" 
He gives her two more powerful thrusts, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear nibbling on her earlobe.
"that's it pretty~ look how your walls are clamping down on me, I'm fucking you so good your body won't let me pull out" 
Gasps fall from her lips like the most unholy prayers as her body stills the pleasure flooding wildly through her veins, shaky moans tumbling from her lips as she cries his name over and over until she can barely speak any longer. 
Lucifer's thrusts match hers, pounding into her as he feels her walls start to spasm around him. He groans deeply, his own pleasure starting to build as he watches her cum hard on his cock.
He can't help but whine loudly as her orgasm triggers his own, his body shaking as he dumps his load into her quivering walls crying her name as he holds her tight to his body.
Lucifer places soft kisses on each spot of her skin he can reach as she comes down from the high, she returns his affections leaving purple and red blotches down his neck and the along his jaw wanting to show all of Hell her handy work, possessiveness shining in her eyes as she watches his blissed out face.
Lucifer smiles softly at her, his eyes filled with pure adoration. He nuzzles against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.
He hums lowly in his throat, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he leans in to nip at her neck gently. 
"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, slowly pulling out of her body and readjusting so they're more comfortable. 
"You're truly mine, aren't you sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice husky with tiredness. 
Her fingers reach upt o cup his face gently as she looks into his eyes "for as long as you'll have me, sir" she winks cheekily at him placing kisses along his jaw hiding her heated cheeks.
Lucifer chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down her sides to soothe her sensitive skin. 
"That's my girl," he breathes out before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow deep kiss, lifting her body into his arms to carry her to his bedroom. 
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Beautiful banner by: @/saradika
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phefics · 5 months
Text
veritaserum
ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k
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Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.
There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.
You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.
It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.
As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.
Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.
“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”
“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.
“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”
“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.
It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.
“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.
“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”
You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”
You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.
The twins both erupted into giggles.
“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”
“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.
“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.
“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”
You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.
What you did manage to say was, “Why?”
Both twins shrugged.
“For fun,” Fred said.
“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.
“About what?”
“About which of us you like better.”
You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”
“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”
George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”
“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”
Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.
Both twins seemed rather touched, though
“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”
You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”
“No, we have more questions!”
“Such as…?”
“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.
Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.
“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”
“At the same time?”
“Yes.”
Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.
“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Tell us how you’d want it.”
You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”
The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.
“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.
“Yes,” you breathed. 
They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.
George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.
You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.
Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.
“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.
“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”
You nodded, whimpering softly.
“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”
You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”
George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.
Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.
“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.
“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.
“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”
“Fuck yes,” you moan.
Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.
“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.
“Feels so fucking good.”
“Good. You gonna cum for him?”
“Yes, yes, I’m—”
It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.
“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”
Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.
The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.
“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”
You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.
Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.
Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.
“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.
You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.
George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.
Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.
“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.
You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.
“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.
Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
Note
Luna love PLEASEEEEE HEAR ME OUT‼️ Dilf!Jake getting mad at human!reader when he catches her on her room in the science lab using toys instead of him (that are not even close to his length btw), and fucking her dumb. Like fucking some senses to her, with degradation kink pretty please?
Pent up and stressed out
Jake Sully x female human reader
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Words: 3.7k
Summary: Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.
Warnings: explicit smut, use of toys, caught masturbating, age difference, size difference, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, dirty talk, use of daddy (once), brat tamer dilf!jake
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It was the melting-pot of earths greatest minds, a central locus for innovation and invention, a modern day renaissance. It was where scientists went to work on the next next best thing, before the next best thing had even arrived. It was where everyone who was anyone in the scientific community would go to start a new life and get their hands dirty on real science. And of course, the science at the RDA’s Laboratories was very real –and very dangerous. But what's life without risks? If life gives you lemons, use the decaying remains of those lemons to invent the best damn anti-lemon device possible! (And maybe colonize the poor Lemon farmers home too, while you’re at it.)
Well, at least, that was the marketing for Pandora. And to be honest, in the very beginning it was this ideal (and quirky) view of how the RDA worked that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you worked there as an intern. That was, before you figured what these limb dicks were actually doing here.
Of course they don’t tell you about that war stuff back on earth. They don’t tell you about the natives, the blood that will stick on your hands, the flora and fauna they promised you to study to be burned to ashes because apparently mankind needs apartments and streets and fucking beer on this exomoon.
You were tired of how things worked. You were tired of the long hours, of snappy managers, of being shuffled from lab to lab for no apparent reason, of working on projects for six months at a time and then being told they were cancelled –and sometimes finding out later that some of them had been handed to a different scientific team. You were tired of how cavalier some of the higher-ups seemed about handling dangerous technology and killing innocents. And you were tired of the secrecy about this insanely morally wrong war.
That’s when you had decided to switch sides. Of course switching to the human / na‘vi revolution might’ve been the morally correct way, but what they don’t show you in the contract is, that this path doesn’t come with the luxury of working at high technology laboratories with dozens and dozens of other scientists to share this massive amount of work with. It doesn’t come with unlimited food, water, electricity and other much needed resources. Oh and remind me, who was complaining about the long hours at the RDA earlier? Yeah, that was pretty much nothing, compared to the fact that you hadn’t touched your bed in forty-nine hours.
Life on Pandora had definitely not been what you had expected when you first arrived here. The only difference now was, that you now did it with pleasure instead of guilt.
Working in the labs at high camp was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but doing the right things never comes easy.
Sure, it took a while to get used to the power running out every few days and having to bath in a river, eating whatever the forest gives and oh, let’s not forget the eight feet tall, blue teenagers lingering around in your work space accompanied by a half naked tarzan with painted on stripes, making it extremely difficult to focus on your work.
Speaking of concentration…
"Kid, why the hell are you still here?"
"Huh, w-what?" You awoke with a start, and for a moment you didn't know where you even were. Your neck hurt as you lifted it up, rubbing the sleep away in your tired eyes only to be met with a pair of blue, muscular thighs standing right in front of your desk. Immediately, your gaze shoots all the way up.
“I said, why the hell are you still here?", Jake furrows his brows as he glares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's almost 3 am and this is the second night in a row that I catch you in here. Go. home."
"Jake we talked about this before", you roll your eyes at him, pushing away from the desk to walk over to where some of the scientists lockers stand. "I‘ll go, once I get this shit done." You make a gesture in the air to point at the petridish on your desk, with five ar'lek seeds inside. The healing potential of those seeds was something you’ve always took great interest in, especially during times where more of this medicine was needed than the Na‘vi could even harvest.
"No, you’re leaving right now", the clans Olo'eyktan and former marine said sternly. "No damn plant can be this important you’re loosing two days of sleep over it."
"Oh tell me about it…", you mumbled under your breath as you fiddled with the lock, flung the door open and reached for a small blue container. You unscrewed the lid and tipped the container ever so slightly. Out onto your outstretched hand popped two capsules, their smooth surface reflecting the fluorescent lights placed far above you. Down you gulped them, and up reached a hand to grasp a bottle of water. You took a swig.
Another day, another pill, another length of sanity in a place of madness.
The na‘vi behind you quirks a brow, "What was that?"
"Uh, this?", you shake the blue container and the pills inside rattle demonstrative. "Norm bought them from the raid last week. It’s a food substitutes. Helps me concentrate."
Caffeine in a pill, basically.
Jake let’s out a heavy sigh as he circles the desk and approaches you, the equipment and furniture around him looking comically small.
"You don’t needs pills, kid", he says, taking the container from you and placing in inside the locker a little harder than necessary to bring his point across. He’s towering over you without even trying, and you have to crane your neck all the way up to properly look at him. "What you need is sleep and a way to relief of all of that pent up stress. You’re here all the time, do you even eat? Have some time for yourself? When’s the last time you took a shower, huh?"
God, this man was a dad through and through.
You didn’t know if it was the difference in age or just his general authority, but whatever it was that made him talk to you like you were nothing but a fussy teenager, it was getting on your nerves. Even more than usually.
"Ha-ha very funny. Next you tell me to go visit a spa over the weekend. Oh, thanks boss that’s so kind of you for giving me a couple of days off", your voice had turned into a mocking tone, which makes both of his eyebrows raise in amusement. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to keep going, but your gaze only drops in embarrassment. "Leave me alone, Jake. I’ve got work to do…"
"See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about", he chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What?" You almost bark at him.
"You’re pent up. Quit acting like a little brat, go home and take care of it. Or I will."
Take care of it. Jake’s words whispered over and over and over in your head, a rolling loop that you thought might actually drive you insane. It’s not like you didn’t try, you really did. But as tempting as your bed might seemed to you, as tired as you were when you dragged yourself back to hells gate, you just couldn’t rest, couldn’t will yourself to sleep.
You’ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. You would take a quick jog around the building, read a book or sometimes even meditate. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.
Take care of it. Or I will.
He could be so insufferable when he was bossing you around, you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh as you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and the hem of your pyjama shirt.
"Is that an order, sir?", you grumble to yourself, mentally rolling your eyes at him as your fingers skim past the waistband of your shorts.
But eywa bless him to whatever heaven existed, this man was truly gifted with a body that served as material for your wettest dreams and dirtiest fantasies more than once before.
There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive, but just as annoying when they were treating you like a kid. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the man that Jake Sully was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this, with him. Especially if the only way you knew how to deal with whatever feelings you harbored for the much older ex-marine, was with busying your hands between your spread thighs.
Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core— allow it, and welcome it. You exhale softly, and the slick, wet feeling under your fingertips gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.
Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hips buck up against your own hands. Thrusting your fingers in and out, you huff out a frustrated breath when you realize it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off.
Withdrawing your hands, you reach for your nightstand and pull the upper drawer open. It reveals a set of various toys, different colors and sizes, and you don’t need to think twice before you grab the biggest one and settle yourself back into the comfort of your pillow. It’s a blue dildo. Of-fucking-course.
It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow the slippery toy to slip inside and caress the spot you‘ve been seeking. More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. Your fingertips run in circles over your clit as you push the toy inside and angle it up, dragging the silicon tip along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, loud and wanton.
Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.
Squeezing your eyes shut, your head lolls from side to side, before you pry your eyes open and glance between your spread thighs. The toy glistens in your arousal when you pull it out and your legs quiver when you push it back inside. In your lustful haze, it takes a few more thrusts, and then your eyes finally land on the door in front of your bed; widen open, with a big blue silhouette leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side in his telltale stance.
Your movements stop altogether.
"J-Jake!?" You shriek, clenching your thighs shut.
"Hey, sweetheart", he grins lazily, then pushes off the doorframe to approach you.
"What are you–"
"Thought I’d check on you", he cuts you off and the sway of his tail behind his back reminds you of a cat that just caught a mouse. "See if you arrived home safe and sound, and took care of that little problem how I told you to."
The mattress then dips as he puts a knee on top of it and reaches for your ankle. You squeak when he pulls your towards him with barely any effort, then spreads your thighs with his entirely too big hands on either one of your legs.
"Looks like you needed it bad, huh?", he chuckles and a deep flush of embarrassment settles on your face when he twists the toy inside you and then gently pulls it out. "But you could’ve just asked, you know? Instead of using these pathetic little toys. No wonder you’re always this pent up when that’s what you’re using."
The toys is tossed aside before you can open your mouth to object, your chest heaving in frantic pants as he kneels onto your bed with a creak of your old mattress.
"Jake..?", you whisper, the sudden, uncertain tone in your voice making him lick his lips in anticipation as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.
"Shhh, let daddy take care of you, yeah? Gonna relief some of that stress so my little brat knows how to behave again. That sound good?", he asked, with a fucking smug shit-eating grin. If only your face wasn’t bright red in flustered embarrassment, Jake would’ve taken the provocative roll of your eyes more seriously as you let yourself fall back against the sheets.
"Not a brat…", you mumble, but your eyebrows are only knit together for a second before they shoot up in surprise when grabs the underside of your knees and folds your legs so your ankles almost touch your ears. "F-Fucking, sh– ah!" The moan breaks out of you in a wheezed curse the very moment Jake’s tongue goes flat between your wet folds and his lips close around your clit.
He starts rather roughly, sucking hard on that little bundle of nerves until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. His tongue dips down to lap at your arousal, groaning against you as he pushes past your entrance and fucks you on his tongue. Your moans turn into wails, legs helplessly twitching as he keeps them bend to devour you.
You couldn’t hold out for long, not against the way he knowingly toyed with you, suckling and flicking over your clit, the strange growl he made between filthy slurps vibrating against it. You heard your own voice, a soft river of sounds, murmuring words that weren’t words, curses and moans as you felt the release start to pool in your belly, hot and tingling and restless. Until you couldn’t fight it anymore, thighs trembling around his face and you came with a gasp of his name.
But Jake doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until your shaking from overstimulation, until your slick is running down his chin and even then, a desperate sound of frustration escapes you when he finally lifts his head up from between your thighs. The waves of your first orgasm had barely subsided, just to the point where your limbs felt heavy, your body drained and wrung out, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, and it made him laugh, how needy you are.
"Noo", you complain, "don’t– don’t stop!"
"Ah, don’t worry sweetheart I’m only getting started", Jake promises with a dirty smile, shuffling his hips closer to yours before he pulls down his loincloth just enough to reveal his throbbing cock. There’s a certain glint in his eyes as he watches you swallow thickly at the sight. Fuck, he’s big.
"Been acting like such a desperate slut, rolling your eyes at me and talking back under your breath", he says lowly. Jake keeps you in this bend position, but takes hold of his cock at the very base before he drags his tip through your spit and arousal slicked folds. "Should’ve already put you in your place weeks ago", he goes on, "But I knew you just needed your needy little holes filled by a big cock, right?" He pauses for a second, and then you feel the mushroom-like tip prodding against your entrance. "Needed to be fucked like the slut you are. Don‘t worry, doll face. M‘gonna fuck you right to sleep, help you relax reaaal good." And then he pushes inside.
The stretch makes you choke on a scream that threatens to rise through your body and Jake groans at the suffocating heat around his length. "Shit baby, still so fuckin‘ tight, ain’t ya?"
Your hands reach out for his biceps, short nails digging into his skin, sinking crescents into the blue stripes on his arm, your whole body quivering, mind fuzzed with a long-forgotten drowsy sort of bliss.
"Feel me stretching you out? Those damn toys didn’t even loosen you up one bit." Jake grins. His lips are on yours then, his mouth claiming, and he swallows any sounds you might have made as you fit together like a hand in a too-small glove.
He moves, only a little, the springs groan and squeak as he rolls his hips, slow at first, then faster. Your lips are bruised by the time he breaks the kiss and his shoulders are scratched and he’s somehow even deeper, and then his thrusts turn harder.
He’s hot and heavy on top of you and it’s making you tingle and shiver all over.
Jake fucks you with precision, the tip of his cock hammers against your cervix, dragging along your g-spot on the way and it makes your eyes roll all the back inside your head.
"Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to feel", he chuckles, the sound cutting off into a low groan as he licks away the spit from your bottom lip. "Look at my little slut drooling fr‘me."
Your wet, velvety-like walls are heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increases his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was like music to his ears. Every time Jake’s cock brushed against your g-spot, your moans turned louder and your toes curled into your soles.
"Jesus, baby. You feel so good around me, perfect little cock sleeve."
The sounds he knocked out of you with the sheer force of his thrusts soon turn needy and higher pitched, as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could even proceed it.
"T-There, fuck Jake, right- right there", you mewl, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth. The man above you groans, half a grin pulling at the corner of his lips before he aims his hips to hit that spongey spot inside you even harder.
"Where, here? That your special spot, hm?"
"Uh-huh, yes! Yes, fucking shi– oh my god!" Your walls pulsate around him, squeezing and clenching his shaft. God, you were so close it almost hurt.
"Hmh, can feel you clenching, baby. You like it that much?", Jake chuckled, and you could only muster the strength to nod weakly. "Gonna come fr‘me, yeah?"
His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider and you felt so full, it was hard to imagine that there was any more room inside you, not even for his cum. And that thought alone was enough to tip you over the edge with a full body shiver.
His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—
"Coming! I‘m coming!"
"Look at you", Jake mutters and he sounds so wrecked, so reverent and pleased with himself. "Gorgeous, so pretty when you come on my cock, sweetheart. You needed this, didn’t you? Good girl, you’re doing so good.”
Jake certainly knows what he’s talking about because if only there was a mirror where you could see yourself– You looked completely obscene, folded like a little pretzel, skin flushed with exertion and sheened with sweat while your hair is matted on your forehead. There’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth from where you had been unashamedly panting, lips red and plump from kissing and sucking on his tongue.
“My perfect little slut.” Jake pants out, snapping his hips ruthlessly into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.
Jesus, you were a real sight. It makes his balls tighten up and his cock throb inside you.
He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning, before he finally pumped you full of his hot cum, until it leaked out around his girth. "Oh, fuck", Jake murmured and he sounded so far away, thick and rough. Your pussy squelched as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He groans, shattered, hips fucking erratically until they still deep inside you and the tight walls of your cunt milk his cock until he’s completely spent.
It’s only now that you realize how god damn heavy this man was on top of you. Thankfully Jake rolled off before you had to start gasping too badly for air, leaving your front feeling impossibly cold.
"And? Feeling relaxed?" He chuckled, rolling over to pull the blanket over the both of you before he tugs you close against his chest.
"Shut up…", you make out roughly and it’s only then that you realize, you had screamed yourself hoarse. You want to roll your eyes at him, but they unwillingly flutter closed before you can even try to.
"Told ya‘ I’ll fuck you to sleep, kid."
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theostrophywife · 4 months
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dress.
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pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.
song inspiration: dress by taylor swift.
author's note: can't stop thinking about that anon that called me out on being feral for theo yet soft for my baby boy cutie pie sweetie enzo. they were so right, but can you blame me? enzo is the pretty boy. he invented baby girlism.
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“How do I look?” 
Beautiful. 
Breathtaking. 
Devastating. 
Enzo blinked away the words that materialized in his mind, shaking off the thoughts that he had no business thinking about his best friend. His honey eyes darkened as you descended the winding staircase, the billowing skirt of your ball gown kissing the checkered floor of your family’s mansion. 
The pretty lilac shade complimented your complexion, making you glow underneath the crystal chandelier. Every curve draped in luxurious velvet fabric, like temptation wrapped in a pretty little bow just to torment him. 
“Earth to Enzo,” you teased, poking at your best friend’s shoulder with a gloved finger. “Have I lost you?”
Enzo sucked in a breath, relishing in the sight of you. “Sorry. You look…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “You look stunning, Y/N.” 
Your smile nearly took his breath away. The action lit up your entire face, crinkling the corner of your eyes in the most endearing way. Enzo was entranced as you straightened his tie, pinching his cheek because you both knew that he secretly loved it.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Berkshire.” The playful tone of your voice made his heart skip a beat, the steady rhythm echoing in his ears as Enzo offered you his arm. “The girls will be envious of my handsome escort.”
“I think they’ll be more envious of that dress,” Enzo murmured softly. The smooth, low cadence of his voice flowed through you like honey. “I don’t think anyone will be able to keep their eyes off of you tonight, love.” 
Including him. 
The ballroom was filled to the brim with guests from the sacred and influential families, the women dressed to the nines in silk, lace, and velvet, their ears and wrists and necks dripping with diamonds. The men wore impeccably fitted suits with watches and family heirloom rings that cost more than a year’s worth of wages. 
All around the room, attendees nursed their cocktails and indulged in the impressive spread of hors d'oeuvres, whispering excitedly about the grandeur and opulence of the ball your family hosted every year, but he barely picked up on their conversations. Enzo smiled and nodded politely, but his attention wasn’t on any of them. 
Instead, the entirety of his focus fell on you. Enzo watched as you chatted and charmed the crowd, even going so far as gaining a slight smile from his surly uncle Lucius, who was notoriously unimpressed by anything and everything. Your best friend was entirely convinced that you could’ve charmed the feathers off of a hippogriff. 
“What a delightful girl you are. Exactly the type of lady young Lorenzo should be courting.” Lucius drawled. “Draco would do well to follow his cousin’s example.” 
Narcissa smiled. “I’m afraid our son is too late. These two are quite smitten with each other already.” 
Neither one of you corrected the couple. There was truly no use. Despite the countless attempts at clarifying the nature of your relationship, the adults still assumed that the two of you were together. Sometimes it was just easier to play along. Enzo had no complaints. Especially not when you placed a kiss on his cheek and nodded in agreement. 
“Can you blame me, Mrs. Malfoy?” You teased, winking at Enzo. “Lorenzo’s quite the catch. Anyone would be lucky to have such a perfect gentleman by their side.” 
Enzo tried not to blush as Lucius and Narcissa nodded in approval. Luckily, his aunt and uncle moved along, allowing you to greet the other guests. Throughout the night, Enzo stayed by your side, chiming in when needed, refilling your drinks when you ran out, and feeding you appetizers in between breaks. The rest of his friends teased him for it, but Enzo was perfectly content with playing the part of escort. 
“Mother was right. Y/N has every male in here eating out of her hand,” Draco said, looking over at you in appreciation as he took a sip of champagne. “Can’t blame them. That dress is something else. She looks proper fit.” 
“You don’t stand a chance, Malfoy.” Mattheo scoffed as he popped a bacon wrapped fig into his mouth. 
Theo nodded in agreement, eyes glazed over from the smoke break that he and Mattheo took in the gardens earlier. “Blondes aren’t Y/N’s type.” His mouth quirked as he glanced over at Enzo. “Isn’t that right, Berkshire?”
“You lot are insufferable,” Enzo said with an eye roll. 
He glanced over the top of his champagne glass, smiling softly to himself as he watched his mum fawn over you. She often joked about taking her engagement ring out of the Gringott’s vault despite the fact that Enzo repeatedly told her that the two of you weren’t in a relationship. Along with everyone else, his parents seemed convinced that the two of you were meant to be. 
“What’s the matter, cousin? Jealous that Y/N might take a liking to me?” 
“She’d sooner snog a rat,” Enzo replied sarcastically. 
“A ferret is close enough, isn’t it?” asked Regulus.
“Malfoy might stand a chance after all,” was Tom’s deadpan response. 
Mattheo chuckled. “Good one, brother. Come on, lads. We should let Enzo get back to his date.” 
With a sigh, Enzo downed his champagne glass before rejoining your side. You were in deep conversation with his parents, but broke out into a goofy grin the minute you caught sight of him. 
“There’s my handsome date,” you exclaimed. “I must say, you raised quite a gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Berkshire. I couldn’t have asked for a better escort. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he looks quite handsome in a suit.”
Enzo flushed as you straightened his tie. His father smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I reckon Lorenzo gets that from me.”
“No doubt, Mr. Berkshire. All the ladies seem to think so. Perhaps I should stop hogging him to myself and give the others a chance.”
“Try as you might, Lorenzo only has eyes for you, dear.” Enzo groaned, blushing at his mum’s embarrassing statement. “What? It’s true. You two make a beautiful couple.”
Enzo was about to correct his mother for the millionth time, but you simply slipped your gloved hand through his elbow and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Berkshire. We clean up rather well, don’t we?” 
You giggled as Enzo turned red in the face. Completely unaware of his desire to melt into the marble floor, his mother flashed you a pleased smile. “There’s no need for formalities. I insist that you call me Helene. You’re practically family at this point. Though I do hope my son will add you into the Berkshire brood soon enough. Speaking of which, what is your ring size, dear?”
Never in his life had Enzo felt so mortified. It was one thing to have the adults mistake you for a couple, but to have his mother imply marriage was an entirely different beast. One that Enzo had no plans of tackling tonight. 
“That’s our cue for a dance. I think you’ve kept our gracious host long enough, mum.” 
His mother started to protest until his father placed an arm around her shoulder. “Now, now, my love. Let the children be. Plenty of time to discuss serious matters during Y/N’s next visit, which we hope will be soon. Our grand piano has been feeling a bit neglected lately and we have missed your lovely rendition of the classics.”
“Well we certainly can’t have your Steinway sit idle for too long. I promise to come by for tea before term starts.” You kissed both of his parents on the cheek. A friendly gesture that he had never seen them engage in with any of his friends. “It’s always a pleasure, Helene and Henry. Now if you’ll excuse us, Lorenzo and I are about to put those waltz lessons to good use.”
Enzo’s father clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t let this young lady get away, Lorenzo.”
The tips of Enzo’s ears went positively red as his parents departed. “Sorry about that. I’ve tried to tell them that we aren’t dating, but as you can see, it’s fallen on deaf ears.” 
You grinned, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It’s alright. I truly don’t mind. Your parents are quite charming. Clearly you inherited that trait.” You rubbed at the kiss print you left behind and giggled. “Now, I believe you promised me a dance, Mr. Berkshire.” 
Enzo smiled, his arm already circling around your waist. “I always keep my promises, Ms. Y/L/N. Prepare to be swept off your feet, love.” 
Time seemed to still as Enzo escorted you onto the dancefloor. You beamed at him, curtsying with a silly grin while he bowed in return. The two of you waltzed together as the live musicians played a soft and slow tune. Enzo couldn’t help but admire you as you twirled around in your pretty lilac dress. A few curls fell out from your updo, sweeping against your rosy cheeks while you fell into step with him. As he held you tightly against him, Enzo hoped to Merlin that the music was loud enough to drown out the rapid beating in his chest. 
Deny it as he may, Enzo knew deep down that his heart only beat for you anyways. 
The rest of the night passed by in a blur. Ever the gracious host, you personally said goodbye to each guest until the last person left the manor. Given the late hour, you insisted that Enzo stay the night, a request that was quickly turned into a command by your parents. They adored Enzo as much as you did, perhaps even more. Though he doubted that their affection would remain the same if they knew the filthy thoughts that plagued him every time he stayed over. 
“C’mon, Enz,” you said, tugging at his hand. “Last person up the stairs has to pick up croissants in the morning!”
Enzo chuckled before breaking into a sprint. You squealed as he gained in on you, gathering your dress up in your hands while slipping your heels off and making a run for it. You nearly tripped on the taffeta, but luckily Enzo caught you around the waist and hauled you over his shoulder. 
“I guess we both lose, honey.” 
You giggled as Enzo marched into your room before discarding you gently on the four poster bed. He smiled as you sprawled out on the mattress and dragged him down beside you. Scooting up against the pillows, Enzo traced the initials that the two of you carved against your bedpost when you were ten. 
“Do you remember the day we carved those in?” 
Enzo nodded. “The summer before our first year at Hogwarts.” He smiled as he recalled the memory. “We were both so scared of being sorted into different houses, but you said that if we carved our initials together, then nothing would be able to separate us.” 
“Mum and dad were furious,” you said with a chuckle. “But it was worth it. Ten years later and it still stands true. If we’re lucky, it’ll last for an eternity.” 
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Enzo declared. “I’d still be by your side even when the carvings fade.” 
You smiled softly and turned over to face him. Enzo brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, those honey eyes flickering with emotion. “Do you really think so? What about when we both get married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate me hanging around, Enz.” 
“That won’t be a problem,” Enzo countered confidently. 
You traced over his dimple, memorizing the feel of his skin underneath your fingertips. “How can you be so sure?” you teased. 
“Because you’re the only one I could ever picture myself marrying.” 
The gravity of his words settled between you. Enzo almost wished he could take it back if not for the relief that flooded his entire body now that he had spoken his true feelings out loud. After years of silence and patience, of pining and anticipating, of hands shaking from holding back from you, Enzo felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 
Whether or not you returned the sentiment mattered very little to him. All Enzo knew was that he loved you and he could no longer sit here and pretend that you weren’t carved into his heart and soul like a golden tattoo. 
“Lorenzo,” you whispered softly. If it were anyone else, Enzo would’ve loathed hearing his full name, but the moment you said it, everything just stopped. “I don’t want you like a best friend.” 
His heart stopped beating. “Do you mean that, Y/N?” 
“Of course I mean it,” you affirmed. “You’re my favorite person. You’re not only my best friend, but you’re my lifeline. We’ve seen each other through the best and worst of times and somehow we haven’t grown sick of each other and I don’t think we ever will. You’re the only person I see myself marrying too, Enzo. You’re my one and only.” 
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he whispered softly, noses brushing close. “Though it’s not nearly as long as I’ve waited to do this.” 
You held your breath as Enzo leaned forward, closing the gap between you. The space that signified the boundary of your friendship was nearly nonexistent now, filled with longing looks and shaking hands. Your eyes fluttered close as soon as your lips met. 
With a shaky exhale, you melted into Enzo’s arms as he clutched you close. One hand weaved around your waist while the other cupped your jaw. You sighed into the kiss, relishing the feel of his lips against yours. Enzo tasted like champagne, making you dizzy with the sweetness as he deepened the kiss. You giggled as Enzo tugged you into his lap, tracing your fingers over the initials on the headboard before tangling them in his hair. 
The feel of Enzo was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. This was your best friend. You knew every scar and mole and freckle by heart, but the soft sighs and plush lips were an entirely new experience that you longed to explore. 
“I wish you hadn’t waited so long,” you whispered against his lips. “We could’ve been doing this all along.” 
“We have all the time in the world to make up for it, my love.” Enzo caressed your cheek with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. “Do you even know how hard it’s been to hold myself back? How many times I’ve had to physically restrain myself from kissing the breath right out of you this night alone?” 
“You’re not alone in that. You look so damn good in that suit, it should honestly be considered a crime.”
Enzo chuckled as you straightened his lapel. “If this suit is a crime, then that dress would land you a cell in Azkaban. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire night.” 
“Good,” you said with a cheeky smile. “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.” 
Those innocent honey brown eyes darkened as Enzo toyed with the strap of your dress, kissing every bit of exposed skin available to him. “Allow me to do this properly, then. Now that I have you, I intend to savor every smile, every touch, and every kiss you give me.” 
Anticipation hung heavy in the air as Enzo tugged at the laces of your dress, carefully unraveling you like his own personal gift. He helped you wriggle out of the purple fabric, sliding the dress down over your body with such gentleness and care. Your lips met once more as you slid off his jacket, your fingers making quick work of the button shirt underneath as well. When both of your clothes were piled up on your bedroom floor, Enzo lifted his head up to properly look at you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he drank in the sight before him. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Enzo breathed, his voice full of awe and wonder. He tugged at the ribbons in your hair, setting your curls free. 
Tenderly, Enzo laid you back on the mattress and captured your lips with his. As promised, he took his time exploring every inch of your body. Slender fingers caressed your skin, eliciting satisfied sighs while Enzo lavished you with kisses. He groaned as your fingers tangled through his hair, pulling him impossibly close until you couldn’t tell where you began and he ended. 
You moved as one, the trust and care evident between you and Enzo. He knew you better than anyone. Knew all the quirks and flaws and oddities that made you you. Enzo knew how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to look at you in a way that made you feel like he truly saw you. 
Enzo pressed his forehead against yours. “We don’t have to rush. I’m perfectly content to wait until you’re ready.” 
It was sweet and such an incredibly Enzo thing to say. Even after waiting all this time, all he cared about was that you were comfortable. 
“I think we’ve both had our fill of waiting.” You smiled up at him, cradling his jaw. He leaned into your touch like he was savoring every bit of affection he could get. “I’ve never felt more ready for anything in my life. I trust you more than I trust myself. I love you, Lorenzo Berkshire.” 
The smile on Enzo’s face was blinding. It was like feeling the sunshine on your skin after years in darkness. It was golden. 
“I love you too, Y/N.” Enzo confessed. “I think I’ve loved you even before I knew what love was.” 
“My one and only,” you whispered, peppering kisses along his jaw. “My lifeline.” 
With heartbreaking gentleness, Enzo wrapped your legs around his waist. Honey eyes latched onto yours as he hovered over you, his astute gaze flickering over your face as he eased into you. Enzo was slow and gentle, giving you time to adjust to his size and brushing your hair out of your face while lavishing you with luxurious kisses. You moaned into his mouth as his hips met yours, feeling full and content, like joining your bodies together in this way was the most natural thing in the world. 
“Look at me, honey. I want to see those pretty eyes.” 
Your eyes opened to the most beautiful sight. The candlelit room cast a hazy glow over everything, bathing Enzo with its soft golden light. Your chest tightened as you admired him, fingertips grazing the curve of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones, the cheeky dimples that you loved so much, the perfect aquiline nose, and the dark lashes framing those mesmerizing eyes. In the dim light, they looked like pools of honey and you felt like a fly swimming in liquid gold. 
“You’re beautiful too, Enzo. Like a work of art,” you beamed as he flushed. “My pretty boy.” 
“Don’t say that, sweetheart. Not unless you want this to be finished quicker than it started.” 
You chuckled. “Is that so? Have I found your weakness?”
Enzo groaned, shifting his hips in a way that had you moaning underneath him. “You are my weakness, my love.” 
“Yeah?” You asked, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist and rolling your hips against his. “Show me how weak I make you, pretty boy.” 
The precarious thread of self control that Enzo was desperately holding onto snapped. With a roll of his hips, he set a pace that had you clawing at the sheets. He chuckled darkly as you clambered for control, nails raking at his back before finding purchase in his hair. You tugged hard, desperate for more. 
“Oh god, Enzo.” You moaned as he slammed into you, feeling boneless as he silenced your sounds with a filthy kiss. 
“You wanted to see what you do to me?” Enzo teased, gripping your hips to hold you in place while he slid all the way out. The head of his cock barely brushed your cunt and you ached to feel all of him again. You whimpered in response as he teased you, taunted you. “You drive me fucking insane, Y/N. I think about this, every second of every day. You’re all I want. You’re all I need.” 
“So have me,” you breathed. “Have all of me, Enzo.” 
You groaned as Enzo slammed back in. It felt good to be full of him. It felt right. You murmured as much into his mouth, canting your hips to his as he raised your arms above your head and twined your fingers together. In that moment, there was nothing in the world but you and Enzo—the boy you loved making love to you. 
Despite the lust swimming in his eyes, something softer reared from underneath the surface. A look that Enzo had given you countless times over the years. A look that was pure love and adoration. Your heart swelled as you squeezed his fingers. 
“I love it when you look at me like that,” you whispered.
“Like you’re my whole world?” Enzo murmured against your lips. “You are, you know.” 
You kissed him, slow and deep. “You’re mine, too.” 
“Don’t take those pretty eyes off of me, honey.” Enzo said as he pushed your body to the brink of pleasure. “I want to watch you come apart for me.” 
“Together?” you asked, brushing the hair out of his eyes. 
“Always,” he responded. 
Enzo pressed your forehead against his, slipping past the edge with you and indulging in the sweet ecstasy of your bodies fitting perfectly together. The orgasm rocked over you first and you panted into Enzo’s mouth as he watched in awe. His own pleasure took over after a few more thrusts, your name falling sweetly from his lips as he chased the high. 
Neither one of you made any indication of moving. You were content feeling the full weight of Enzo’s blissed out body on top of yours, smiling to yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily against your neck and cuddled closer. 
Enzo took your hand and kissed your fingertips. He intertwined them through his, squeezing gently as he examined your hand. 
“Four and a half.” 
“Hmm?” 
“That’s your ring size, isn’t it? I’ll have to tell mum. We’ll need to get her engagement ring resized.”
You chuckled. “Engagement ring? You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. Now you want to jump to being my fiancé?” 
“Well, girlfriend is certainly not strong enough to describe who you are to me,” He said, kissing your ring finger. “I prefer the love of my life. My future wife and the mother of my children. Though I suppose I’ll settle for fiancé.” 
“Will you at least let me get used to calling you my boyfriend first?” 
“Fine,” Enzo huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You can call me your boyfriend. For now.” 
“How generous of you, Mr. Berkshire.” 
You grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours, looking down at you with those innocent honey eyes. “I’ll show the future Mrs. Berkshire how generous I can be. Then you’ll be calling me your husband in no time.” 
“I like the sound of that, pretty boy.” 
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mashkaroom · 1 year
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Translation thoughts on the greatest poem of our time, “His wife has filled his house with chintz. To keep it real I fuck him on the floor”
It’s actually quite tricky to translate. Because it’s so short, each word and grammatical construction is carrying a lot of weight. It also, as people have noted, plays with registers. “Chintz” is a word with its own set of associations. Chintz is a type of fabric with its origins in India. The disparaging connotation is from chintz’s eventual commonality. Chintz was actually banned from England and France because the local textile mills couldn’t compete.
Keep it real” is tremendously difficult to translate -- it’s a bit difficult to even define. It means to be authentic and genuine, but it also has connotations of staying true to one’s roots. Like many English slang words, it comes first from AAVE. From this article on the phrase:
“[K]eeping it real meant performing an individual’s experience of being Black in the United States. As such, it became a form of resistance. Insisting on a different reality, one that wasn’t recognized by the dominant culture, empowered Black people to ‘forge a parallel system of meaning,’ according to cultural critic Mich Nyawalo...The phrase’s roots in racialized resistance, however, were erased when it was adopted by the mostly-White film world of the 1970s and ’80s....Keeping it real in this context indicated a performance done so well that audiences could forget it was a performance.This version of keeping it real wasn’t about testifying to personal experience; it was about inventing it.”
One has to imagine that jjbang8 did not have the origins of these phrases in mind when composing the poem, but even if by coincidence, the etymological and cultural journeys of these two central lexemes perfectly reflect the themes of the poem. The two words have themselves traveled away from the authenticity they once represented, and, in a new context, have taken on new meanings -- the hero of our poem, the unnamed “him”, is, presumably, in quite a similar situation.
Setting aside the question of register, of the phonology, prosody, and meter of the original, of the information that is transmitted through bits of grammar that don’t necessarily exist in other languages -- a gifted translator might be able to account for all of these -- how do you translate the journey of the words themselves?
In my translations, I decided to go for the most evocative words, even if they don’t evoke the exact same things as in the original. The strength of these two lines is that they imply that there’s more than just what you see, whether that’s the details of the story -- what’s happening in the marriage? how do the narrator and the husband know each other? -- or the cultural background of the very words themselves. I wanted to try and replicate this effect.
Yiddish first:
זייַן ווייַב האָט אָנגעפֿילט זייַן הויז מיט הבלים
צו בלייַבן וויטיש, איך שטוף אים אופֿן דיל. zayn vayb hot ongefilt zayn hoyz mit havolim.
tsu blaybn vitish, ikh shtup im afn dil
This translation is pretty direct. There is a word for chintz in Yiddish -- tsits -- but, as far as I can tell, it refers only to the fabric; it doesn’t have the same derogatory connotation as in English. I chose, instead, havolim, a loshn-koydesh word that means “vanity, nothingness, nonsense, trifles”. In Hebrew, it can also mean breath or vapor. I chose this over the other competitors because it, too, is a word with a journey and with a secondary meaning. Rather than imagining the bright prints of chintz, we might imagine a more olfactory implication -- his wife has filled his house with perfumes or cleaning fluids. It can carry the implication that something is being masked as well as the associations with vanity and gaudiness.
Vitish -- Okay, this is a good one. Keep in mind, of course, that I’ve never heard or seen it used before today, so my understanding of its nuances is very limited, but I’ll explain to you exactly how I am sourcing its meaning. The Comprehensive Yiddish-English Dictionary (CYED) gives this as “gone astray (esp. woman); slang correct, honest”. I used the Yiddish Book Center’s optical character recognition software, which allows you to search for strings in their corpus, to confirm that both usages are, in fact, attested. It’s a pretty rare word in text, though, as the CYED implies, it might have been more common in spoken speech. It appears in a glossary in “Bay unds yuden” (Among Us Jews) as a thieves cant word, where it’s definted as נאַריש, שרע��עוודיק, אונבעהאלפ. אויך נישט גנביש. אין דער דייַטשער גאַונער-שפראַך --  witsch -- נאַריש, or “foolish, terrible, clumsy/pathetic. not of the thieves world. in the German thieves cant witsch means foolish”. A vitishe nekeyve (vitishe woman) is either a slacker or a prostitute. I can’t prove this for sure, but my sense is that it might come from the same root as vitz, joke (it’s used a couple of times in the corpus to mention laughing at a vitish remark -- which makes it seem kind of similar to witty). I assume the German thieve’s cant that’s being referred to is Rotwelsch, which has its own fascinating history and, in fact, incorporates a lot of Yiddish. In fact, for this reason, some of the first Yiddish linguists were actually criminologists! What an excellent set of associations, no? It has the slangy sense of straightforward of honest; it has a sense of sexual non-normativity (we might use it to read into the relationship between the narrator and the husband) -- and a feminized one at that; it was used by an underground subculture, and, again, the meaning there was quite different -- like the “real” in “keeping it real” it was used to indicate whether or not someone was “in” on the life (tho “real” is used to mean that the person is in, while “vitish” is used to mean they’re not). It’s variety of meanings are more ambiguous than “keep it real”, which can pretty much only be read positively, and it also brings in a tinge of criminality. Though it doesn’t have the same exact connotations as “keep it real”, I think it’s about as ideal of a fit as we’ll get because it’s equally evocative of more below the surface. I also chose “tsu blaybn vitish”, which is “to stay vitish”, as opposed to something like “to make it vitish” to keep the slight ambiguity of time that “keep it real” has -- keeping it real does< I think, imply that there is a pre-existing “real” to which one can adhere, so I wanted to imply the same.
The rest is straight-forward. “Shtup” is one of a few words the Comprehensive English-Yiddish Dictionary (CEYD) gives for “fuck”, and I think it has a nice sound.
Ok, now Russian
женой твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками
чтоб не блудить с пути, ебемся на полу
zhenoy tvoy dom napolnin fintiflyushkami.
shtob ne bludit’ s puti’, yebyomsya na polu
In order to preserve, more or less, the iambic meter, I made a few more changes here -- since Russian, unlike Yiddish, is not a Germanic language, it’s harder to keep the same structure + word order while also maintaining the rhythm. I would translate this back to English as:
“Your house is filled with trifles by your wife. To not stray off the path, we’re fucking on the floor”
So a few notes before we get into the choice of words for “chintz” and “keep it real”. To preserve the iamb, I changed “his” to “your”. This changes the lines from a narration of events to some outside party to a conversation between the two men at the center. Russian also has both formal and informal you (formal you is also the plural form, as is the case in a number of other languages). I went with informal you because I wanted to preserve the fact that his wife has filled his house not their house, as someone pointed out in the original chain (though I don’t think that differentiation is nearly as striking in the 2nd person) and because it’s unlikely you’d be on formal you with someone you’re fucking (unless it’s, like, a kink thing). I honestly didn’t even consider making it formal, but that would actually raise a lot of interesting implications about the relationship between the speaker and the husband, as well as with what that means about the “realness” of the situation. Is, in fact, the narrator only creating a mirage of a more real, more meaningful encounter, while the actual truth -- that there is a woman the husband has made promises to that he’s betraying -- is obscured? that this intimacy is just a facade? Is there perhaps some sort of power differential that the narrator wishes to point out? Or perhaps is the way that the narrator is keeping it real by pointing out the distance between the two of them? there is no pretense of intimacy, the narrator is calling this what it is -- an encounter without deeper significance?
Much to think about, but I actually think the two men do have history --  i think the narrator remembers the house back when it was actually only “his house” and was as yet unfilled with chintz. We also don’t know what they were calling each other prior to this moment. This could be the first time they switched to the informal you. 
Ok moving on, I originally translated it as “твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками жены”. Honestly, this sounds more elegant than what I have now, but I ultimately though removing the wife from either a subject or agent position (grammatically, I mean) was too big a betrayal of the original. The original judges the wife. She took an active role in filling the house. If she were made passive, that read is certainly a possible one -- perhaps even the dominant one -- but it could also read more like “we are doing this in a space filled with reminders of his wife and the life they share” -- the action of filling is no longer what’s being focused on. Why do I say the current translation is inelegant? I feel you stumble over it a little, because it’s almost a garden path sentence. This is also an assset though. “Zhenoy tvoy dom napolnen” is a fully grammatical sentence on its own, and it means “Your house is filled by your wife” -- as in English, the primary read is that the wife is what the house is full of. If the sentence makes you stumble, perhaps that’s even good -- we focus, for good reason, on the relationship between the two men, but in a translation, the wife is able to draw more attention to herself.
Ok, chintz: I chose the word “финтифлюшки” (fintiflyushki), meaning trifle/bobble/tchotchke, because it, allegedly, comes from the german phrase finten und flausen, meaning illusions and vanity/nonsense. Once again, I like that the word has a journey, specifically a cross-linguistic one.
Keep it real: this one, frankly, fails to capture the impact of the original, in my opinion, but allow me to explain the reasoning. “Stray off the path” implies, again, that there is some sort of path that both the narrator and the husband were on before the wife and the chintz -- and one they intend to continue taking, one that this act is a maintenance of. It brings in a little irony, since the husband very much is straying from the path of his marriage. “Bludit’“ can also mean to be unfaithful in a marriage (as, in fact, can “stray”). The proto-slavic word it comes from can mean to delude or debauch -- they want to do the latter but not the former.
As for register -- “shtob” is a bit informal. I would write the full version (shto by) in an email, for example. The word for fuck, yebyomsa, is from one of the “mat” words, the extra special top tier of russian swears, definitely not to be said in polite company (and, if you are a man of a certain generation or background, not in front of women; it’s not that the use of mat automatically invokes a male-only environment, but if we’re already thinking that deeply about it. But while we’re on the topic, i will say that in my circles in the US, women use mat much more actively than men (at least in front of me, who was, up until recently, a woman and also a child).)
Ok i think that’s all the comments i have!
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flamingpudding · 2 months
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I have a theory!
Duke groaned, his head tumping against his desk on his side of the room. He had heard these words often enough by now to know that his roommate was going to start ranting about something strange but weirdly fascinating again.
The last time his roommate started with that, he went on a rant how all rich people have a secret basement below their homes or some secretly identities with a bulletpoint list of what to look out for as a warning. Which Duke had a hard time not laughing about as he thought about Bruce, who ended up checking a lot of the bulletpoints.
"Danny what is it now?" Duke ended up asking after all. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop his roommate. No one aside from his sister apparently could, Danny even gave her number to Duke as an emergency number in case Danny ever gets so caught up in his own thoughts that even he himself couldn't stop himself anymore. Yeah that was weird to watch Danny trying to stop himself, but it was fascinating that his sister only needed to say his name twice over the speaker.
"Duke hear me out!" Okay of to a good start, so this meant Danny wasn't a hundred percent behind his own theory.
"Red Hood is a ghost or part ghost!"
If Duke had been drinking something, he would have taken a spit take here. For some reasons he had the image of Jason wearing a bed sheet saying the most deadpan 'Boo' in his head when Danny said that. He coughed, trying to hide that amusement. "What makes you say that?"
"You know how you 'saw' that I am a 'Meta'?" Danny ask him in return and Duke nodded still feeling a but weird with how Danny sounded when he refred to himself as Meta but also vividly remembering how his roommate pretty much blinded him on the day he moved into the dorms. "I can kind of see something similar. Like I explained how I have a ghost sense and all that, right?"
"Yea, you did." Duke nodded along, he new his roommate became a Meta through a lab accident. Once Duke had asked him and they had the cleared the air about both of them being Metas, Danny had somewhat opened up a bit on his whole weird family and Duke thought his family wasn't normal but compared to the Fentons the Batfamily might as well could be.
"Well last night I ran into him when I went scrap collecting for my engineering project!"
"DANNY!" Duke couldn't help but scowl. One the school was providing materials, Danny didn't need to do that and two, if he met Red Hood aka Jason that meant Danny wandered far enough to end up near or in Crime Alley! He would need to bug Jason later to find out more about that.
"I know, I know." His roommate waved him off. "Anyway, my ghost sense tingled. Soooo Red Hood got to be a ghost or part ghost, considering he hit a wall instead of phasing through it when he chased me..."
"Danny!" Duke scowled him again, hidding his amusement behind it. Now, he really had to get THAT story out of Jason later, plus he wanted to see if there maybe was possible video proof of Jason running into a wall chasing after Danny.
"Anyway! I got more than just that! Listen here, you know how I told you about some of my parents' inventions..." Danny instead continued finally starting his rant.
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hornyandsadvampire · 2 months
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He makes me want to write poetry.
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lactoseintolerentswag · 7 months
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Rise Characterizations Pt. 4!!!!
Nearing an end with writing notes for turtles. Thinking of posting about April and Splinter separately, and then a big post for side characters.
Raph, Leo, and Donnie here. Now let's start with
Mikey Character Notes
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Language Habits:
Catchphrase: "razzmatazz"
Tendency to "hoo-ha!"
Uses aave/bae
Like Raph and Leo, he will verbalize his attacks, but notably less than the aforementioned two. His most common phrases: "power whip jitsu" (chain moves), and "power fun jitsu" (use of his fire)
Shortens words/phrases in his excitement (i.e. the famous omigosh), but lengthens words in his wonder/amazement like drawing out wow into wooooooow
Uses a lot of idioms, i.e. "give us the 911", "hit the bricks", "you've been workin' a nerve"
Uses a lot of alliterations, especially when describing something
Refers to splinter as "pop" or "dad", with the rare "father" (usually for dramatics)
Will refer to others using "chico", "dude", or "man"
Answers the phone with "shell-o"
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Personality:
Oblivious. A lot of stuff goes over his head, or he'll pick on the wrong thing to focus on. Like thinking they're part imitation crab men
Passionate. He throws himself into everything, whether that be cooking, fighting, or art. Sometimes this focus comes at his own detriment (i.e. forgetting to tell his brothers that Meatsweats mutated on t.v. bc he was cooking his pork risotto)
Optimistic, a dreamer. Not one to back down from doom and gloom, and is often among the first of the brothers to take action. Has a lot of perseverance
Believes the best in everyone. He can easily connect and empathize with others, most notably Draxum
Blunt, he doesn't hide his opinions and can accidentally be a little too harsh. On the other hand, he uses his persona of "Doctor Delicate Touch" to purposefully use his bluntness. He doesn't really much to hide on what he thinks about people
Sensitive, he's easily swayed by the emotion or pathos of others (read: gullible). This also mean his ego is easily damaged, which can contribute to his competitiveness with Leo at times and his inferiority complex with Raph babying him
The emotional heart of the team, he keeps the brothers grounded in empathizing with others
Energetic. Mikey's the wildcard. No one can guess what's coming out of his mouth next, and his fighting style is very innovative. All his energy gives him a charming amount of "razzmatazz"
Firey. Mikey's a pretty expressionate guy. He doesn't hide his emotions, and he doesn't really hide his anger. Sometimes this comes out in his bluntness, and sometimes this comes out in strained rage that has a boiling point
Looks up to his brothers. He has a lot of admiration for his older brothers. Whenever he's put in a corner he thinks what would Raph do, he's grateful for Leo's advocacy, and likes spending a lot of time with Donnie and his inventions. He also has a need to prove himself to his older brothers due to his admiration
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Miscellaneous:
First to unlock mystic powers
Nicknames/code names: "Doctor Delicate Touch" and "Doctor Feelings" are self-proclaimed titles, "orange pawn" code name by Donnie, "Michael" nickname by Donnie, and "Flavortown" is his video game handle
Named his piggy bank "Mrs. Porky Coin"
Only chooses scissors in rock, paper, scissors
Has the top score in "Pance Pance Revolution" (rise's equivalent of DDR)
Well that's all the turtles for reference notes. I think I'll post Splinter next :)
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azrielhours · 16 days
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Captured
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 2018
Synopsis: The camera has been invented and Azriel takes up a hobby of capturing reader, proving how pretty she can be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What is it?”
“An obscura camera, I think we called it.” You turned the device around for him to see the little hole to look through, let him hold it. “It means ‘dark room.’ Light travels in through here,” you pointed to the lens, “and an image is captured using refraction and shadows.”
Azriel frowned in disbelief, making you laugh.
“Watch,” you said, gently taking the Obscura from his hands.
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing,” you smiled, positioning it before your face. “Smile for me.”
He gave a small, tentative smile. The distrust in his eyes had you laughing again, which made Azriel chuckle genuinely.
You clicked something. A shutter sounded, light flashed, and Azriel’s eyes widened. You pulled the obscura away as it rattled, producing a thin strip of rectangular film. Azriel’s frown returned. “It’s black.”
“It has to develop,” you plucked it away and placed it facedown. “You’ll see in a few minutes.”
“This is what you’d been working on with Nuan?” he asked, referring to the alchemist who’d been in town for a few weeks.
You nodded. “It’s an early prototype, but it mimics the way light enters the eye.” A mixture of her trinketry, your crafty impulses, and some magic. “All this work so we can finally capture your pretty face,” you teased, enjoying the pink dusting his cheeks. You turned the piece of film to him, relishing Azriel’s shock upon peering down at the photograph.
That sincere smile you’d managed to capture was how you often caught him looking at you. A sweet, receptive earnestness lighting his normally cold face. Eyes that beheld you like he missed you even when you hadn’t gone anywhere. Now etched permanently into a photograph for you to cherish.
It was your turn to blush. Playful words aside, this truly did catch his beauty.
He met your gaze. “Teach me how to use it.” You demonstrated, pointing to shoot the nearby bookshelf, but Azriel shook his head. “I want one like that,” he nodded to his headshot.
Your nose crinkled. “I don’t photograph well, Az.”
He scoffed. “Why wouldn’t you?” He positioned the obscura over his eyes like you had.
You covered your face with your hands, hiding. “I don’t like the posing.”
 “Come on,” he cooed, laughing. He reached to move your hair where it fell forward as you ducked your head, then gently held your wrists beneath your chin, broad hand easily cradling them between a thumb and two fingers. He tilted your face up with his hold. You peered at him through your fingers, rosy cheeks peeking through digits. Still holding your wrists, he took the photo effortlessly.
You uncovered your face, still blushing. He wondered how you didn’t see what a perfect subject you’d be. How you could invent the obscura and deprive him of its most obvious benefit.
Azriel studied you, and you saw the gears turn in his head. “Can I borrow it for a while?"
You laughed. “Okay, Az.”
~
It started off rather clumsy, and it took a few tries for Azriel to figure out that lighting mattered. That snapping photos with light in the immediate background ruined the film. He tested his hypothesis by capturing a bewildered Cassian, the confusion frozen making Azriel chuckle. He understood why you’d been laughing at him before. Next, he found that distance was important; that he could shift the angle of his photography. A practice shot of Feyre losing herself in a painting, so focused that she didn’t turn to wonder about the shuttering sound. Rhys landing on a balcony after training. Nesta reading ferociously by the fire.
He got the hang of it and was ready to really begin.
I don’t like the posing, you’d told him. He had no issues with that whatsoever.
The first one happened in the kitchen. The early morning hours were typically shared by the both of you on the grounds of a close friendship. You’d been sipping on coffee like it was medicinal, the light of the sun softening everything. Eyes closed, hair still slightly undone from sleep. He loved seeing you in your fancy dresses, your fighting leathers, but something about seeing you in soft, utterly personal nightwear—linen pants, knit cardigans, slippers—it spread warmth through his chest brighter than your revered sunrise. Today he'd even caught you in his t-shirt you must’ve swiped. Carefully positioning the Obscura over his face where he stood at the doorway, he snapped his photo before inconspicuously joining you, inquiring about the theft he quietly adored. Adoring your answering smile even more.
The next shot was on the rooftop. He’d caught Cassian bandaging you up after sparring. You were sat on the bench, smiling bloody and beautiful. Laughing as Cassian cracked jokes, allowing him to tend to you. He was kneeling on the ground before you, cleaning the cuts on your brow, wrapping your bruised knuckles. The sheer glee in your laugh, the way you sat so comfortably with his brother had Azriel reaching into the pocket realm for the Obscura, capturing the sight of his favourite people bantering fresh out of the ring.
One night after Rita’s, Rhys had offered to fly you home after winning a drinking game against Azriel. He’d winked at the bested Shadowsinger, taking you into his arms and shooting to the sky. Azriel grumbled at first until he’d realized the opportunity he had mid-flight with Rhys ahead. You reached to the skies above, stretching like you could grab the very moon, safe in the High Lord’s arms. He wished the Obscura had the power to capture the sound of your laughter as well, but he’d gladly settle for your silhouette marked by the Night Court stars, their beauty dimmed in the face of your exquisite joy.
The next photo was stolen after a Hewn City mission. You’d been in a billowing dark gown, face so ethereal, so striking and utterly beautiful that he’d struggled to look at you face-on. Everyone had taken to sprawling on the couches after coming home, still in formal attire, helping themselves to drinks as they winded down. You’d fallen asleep at some point, stretched comfortably across the sofa with your head nearly hanging off, hair cascading around you like a halo and down the sofa to the ground. Feyre mentioned wishing she could paint the sight of you, sleeping like some spite or nymph, some woodland creature of beauty, your dress ballooning around you like a nightshade flower. Azriel silently pulled out the Obscura, taking his time levelling the device so the light of the hearth illuminated your face.
“What is that thing you keep doing?” Cassian asked lowly.
Azriel focused, capturing the shot. Taking another one just for good measure. “Nothing.”
His favourite photo was of you and Nyx. You’d been playing with the boy on the balcony, blowing bubbles as he tried dutifully to pop them. They’d land and settle in his hair, making you laugh boisterously, head tipping back as Nyx laughed with you unwittingly. It was like the sun loved you, how it always shone upon you, doing the work for Azriel. He took the photo, falling into the easy routine. Once that photo developed, his heart skipped a beat at its sight. At the promise it captured that he wished was his.
He was a lucky bastard to have this gift—a device that finally allowed him to freeze the light that you were in his life, to etch the sights he so sincerely loved. God, you were special. Azriel had to walk away from the balcony, still staring at the little strip of film, more invaluable than precious jewel. How lucky he was to witness you. Luckier still to capture you in still frames, while you unknowingly captured his heart.
~
Azriel found you in your room, sitting at your vanity. He handed the obscura to you. “There’s no more film.”
You laughed. “Wow. How many photos did you take?”
He shrugged, smiling roguishly. “A handful.”
“Can I see?”
He handed a few.
You rifled through them, gasping at the quality. “These are amazing.” He’d captured Feyre descending the stairs in her regalia, beautiful like a divinity of legend. Nesta pouting playfully, glaring right at the camera. Mor putting earrings in before an outing. “Their mates would love these,” you murmured.
“They would,” he agreed.
You shook your head, stunned. “God, they’re beautiful.” Azriel didn’t know if you meant the photos or who he captured in them. “I wish I photographed this good.”
He would’ve laughed at the absurdity if he could resist his scoff of disbelief. “You do.”
You just shook your head, sneaking a quick glance at yourself in the mirror before eyeing the photos again.
Azriel’s heart stuttered. “You do,” he repeated. “I—” he reached into the pocket realm. “I took some of you as well.” Handing over a few photos, he watched closely as your eyes widened. You took your time studying each photo, brows pinched. He didn’t know if it was in dislike, or—
“Wow,” you breathed. You met his gaze. The fragility in them told him it was awe. “Azriel,” you breathed again, assessing the shots. “Wow. You make me look…”
You faded to silence. “What,” he gently nudged you.
“Pretty.”
He tried to speak. A breath puffed out of him. “Y/n,” he couldn’t stop the reverence in his tone. “You’re beautiful. What do you mean?” He didn’t care how it came off, how saying it warmed his cheeks.
He’d only pulled out a few of the tamer photos. The ones of you with his family or in mundane solitude. He immediately pulled out the rest, laying them before you. The pinch deepened between your brows, looking at the one of you after Hewn City. “Oh my god,” you breathed. You had no idea you could look so… “beautiful.”
“Yes,” Azriel nodded. “Beautiful.” He pointed to the one of you in the kitchen, freshly woken up. “Here as well.” Always.
You took your time studying them, unable to find it in you to care about how stupidly vulnerable this struck you. Too busy grappling with the comfort of feeling this seen. You finally met his gaze, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought that look in his eyes was…
If you were well and truly self-indulgent, you may have called it how you felt inside.
Azriel wished he had just one more piece of film to capture the look on your face. The depth of fondness in your eyes, like he was worth seeing. His heart stuttered again, holding that stare like he could pour his affection directly from his eyes to yours.
“Will you be keeping these?” you asked about the photos.
Azriel chuckled. “Yes. Try taking even one away.”
Oh.
You blushed, breaking his stare. A fine line to toe with your friend indeed.
But Azriel enjoyed that conviction on your face when you saw yourself as he did. “Okay,” he let up, exhaling in mock annoyance. “You can have a few.” He took most of the photos back, making sure to leave you with a copy of the Hewn City one. “I mean, I can always take more.”
You laughed, standing to retrieve your satchel, pulling out spare film. You showed Azriel how to load it in, but before handing the Obscura back, you eyed the first photo he’d taken, with his hands holding your wrists. “I want one like that,” you said, reaching for his face.
He laughed but didn’t bat your hand away, to your pleasant surprise. Only standing firm, albeit leaving his face uncovered. You cradled his face gently by the chin in one hand, resting your fingers on his cheeks, barely pressing. He smiled warmly at you, looking right through the camera at you. You captured him.
“There,” you handed back the obscura. “Now I got you,” you held up his matching photo.
He liked the sound of that. “I have you too,” he raised his collection of your photos in his hand in reminder. “And I’ll be keeping you with me.”
~
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ja3hwa · 1 month
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♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : The boys were going to teach you a simple game of pool. Nothing more, nothing less... right?
『Word count』 : 3.9k
-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Supernatural.
Pairing: Vampire!WooSanSang x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Flirting. Dirty talk. Slight innocent reader. Foursome. Lowkey free use. Dub-con ish, but the reader is into it. Everything is just new for her. Mxm. Manhandling. Blood drinking, biting. Wounds. Whimper kink? Swearing. Clit play. Yeosang fucks her without really asking but the reader is into it. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Pet names including [Doll, Baby, Pet, Sir, Darling. Pretty thing] Use of the word slut. I shit on religion for a second, so I’m sorry if anyone is religious.
Note: Fun fact I found out that pool tables were invented back in 1470, so I felt like I had to add it aha.
Also hi I'm uploaded two fic in one night. I know crazy right?! Well, I've been really wanting to just post all my work. i got in the drafts, but im pacing myself, hehe. So this is just a little ... gift? Idk ahah i just could help, but post two tonight. Enjoy ♡♡
"Oh, my body, I don't wanna stop until the break of dawn"
Masterlist | Nav | Chapter Three | Series List | Buy Me A Ko-fi
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When you finally woke, you noticed Seonghwa had left the bed. There was a small note on the bedside table with a little heart next to your name written in black ink. You smiled sleepily, stretching slowly in the spacious bed. You’ve never had a better sleep in years, if not ever. Your small single bed that was tattered and moulding was all you’d ever known, and now you had a bed fit for a king. It was almost strange, bittersweet in a way. You felt like you were always supposed to end up here. With them. Like fate was etched in stone way before you were even of age. You had wondered if they felt the same way, as you made your way through the halls once again. It became quite easy to move around the manor now that you’ve explored a bit. You had slipped on a tunic and pants of various shades of purple and black that were sitting on the end of your bed.
“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home, pet.” You shivered at the sound of Yeosang's velvet voice. Glancing above, you see him leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, a sly smirk on his delicate features.
“She’s like a curious kitty isn’t she.” Another voice caught your attention looking towards the doorway of the billiard room you see a feline feature man. San... His dark hair and sharp yellow glowing eyes make your heart thump in anticipation. Strange? you thought. They were all vampires as far as you knew, so why were his eyes such a deep sunset yellow?
“We got to get that staring problem under control, Darling.” You jumped hearing the high-pitched man, Wooyoung right behind you, whispering in your ear. 
“I w-was not staring.” You shake your head, turning around to see all three men now standing around the pool table. San had picked up a pool stick, putting some blue chalk to dab on the end of the said stick. You watched as all three of them took a pool cue and chalked them up, curious at what they might be up to. You had never seen a pool table up close, let alone see anyone play before. You’ve only ever read about it in fancy books or heard it from the richer folk in the village. “A-are you going to play a game?”
Your words sounded flinching like you were some peasant girl asking the higher for a slice of knowledge. But in truth weren’t you just that? “We are most definitely going to be playing a game Darlin’ and you are going to be the price.”
Wooyoung’s words made you gulp, standing there awkwardly playing with the hem of your tunic. San walked over to you while Yeosang set up the balls in the triangle. San’s fingers grazed your chin before lifting your face to look at him. His smile was softer this time, unlike how it was border-lining lust prior. “Don’t worry, Pretty thing. We won’t go too hard on you. Well, Yeosang might, if you’re not too careful.”
You visibly gulp feeling a tingle in your tummy. What could he possibly be insinuating? Your mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, slightly thanking Jongho was not here to read your lusting thoughts. You were about to say something, but then Wooyoung came up behind San, pushing him aside so he could give you a pool cue. “I don’t know how to p-play.”
“It’s okay, darling. We will teach you.” Wooyoung’s chippy voice eased your heart slightly. And as you watched Wooyoung start to bicker with Yeosang, who would start the game. You couldn’t help but giggle. For Monsters, they sure act like teenagers. Immature and… youthful. 
“Okay okay, Woo, get over here. Let Sangie Break.” The feline yelled over all the bickering. The nicknames he gave the other males made your heart flutter. In the next few minutes, the three vampires took their turn, trying to get a ball in the hole. Until finally, San got a stripe in making Wooyoung whine. 
“How do you always manage to score first.” Wooyoung was disappointed about his lover winning, shifting his weight around as he stomped over to the bar that was sitting across a billiard table. He grabbed out four short glasses and began pouring an amber-coloured liquor in each one. You could hear mumbles around you, most likely San and Yeosang badgering about something again, but you couldn’t focus on them. Only looking straight at the shorter male, curiously watching him take a shot of the liquid before taking the other full glass and shotting it.
“Pet did you hear anything we said?” Yeosang's presence behind you caught your attention, noting the way his shoulder bumped into you lightly. You shook your head with a little sorry before taking a breath, suddenly blurting out.
“I didn’t think vampires could eat or drink human food.”
The situation reminded you about how you shared a meal with all of them a night ago. You were so out of it, and floating in your mind, you didn’t really take notice that they were, in fact, consuming food. Cooked cow, vegetables, rich sauces, and wines. It was always written in history books and the words of your church that no hellspawn beasts like night crawlers were able to consume and dine on earthy foods. Only craving and needing the taste of blood to sustain themselves. 
San had to try very hard not to laugh at your innocence. Wooyoung had a cheeky smirk on his face, placing the glass on the brim of the pool table, speaking up on your question. “Oh, we do not have to eat or drink to stay alive if that’s what you’re asking. And drinking does nothing for us unless we drink an entire Alehouse. But it does take the edge off for us a little bit.” He downed his drink like he did before, some of the alcohol dripping down his chin. San, within seconds, moved from one end of the table to where Wooyoung stood. His speed created a little wind pocket that blew against your face, making you shiver. San’s hand cupped Wooyoung’s chin, drawing his face upwards. San then opened his mouth, letting his freakishly long tongue slide out onto the younger's neck, licking up the liquor he had spilt.
You gulp, looking away to see Yeosang staring at you intensely with a smirk. He bit his lip before chuckling “God I wished I could read minds. I bet you’re thinking about the filthiest things right now.” He moved to stand in front of you, making you take a step back until you were trapped against the pool table and his broad body. “Such a cute little pet, with such a dirty little mind.”
“W-Wha...I…” You didn’t know what to say cause in truth you couldn’t help but think vulgarly around them. They were all so attractive, and it was like some kind of drug being near them. You looked back to San and Wooyoung, seeing San now had his tongue down the other man's throat, and you couldn’t help but whine. What you didn’t realize was that from looking away from Yeosang, you bared your neck to him, making him growl. “You should never show off your neck to vampires unless you want them to bite you, baby.”
Your eyes widened at his words. But you couldn’t react fast enough. It was like your body became a ragdoll as he moved you with the speed of light. Your back hit the table with a thud, legs spread with Yeosang’s body in between them and his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders as you felt his sharp fangs run along your hot skin. “S-Sangie…”
“Hmm using my nickname is only gonna make me want to fuck you, pet.” his nose brushed down your main vein, letting him breathe in your scent sharply. You were the sweetest thing he had ever smelt. 
“Sangie.” You repeated suddenly, reaching tighter for Yeosang’s large shoulders, lacing the fabric of his dress shirt in your fingers. The vampire just chuckled, kissing along your hot skin. You wiggled against him, feeling his crotch twitch beneath the layers of cloth that separated you both. “Please.”
“Ooo, She begs. My favourite.” Yeosang’s fangs grazed your neck, making your heart thump harder. You felt like your whole body was on fire, and every nerve was being consumed with nothing but Yeosang. His scent, his dark deep chuckles. The way his fingers glide along your body. 
Him. 
While his hands played with the fabric on your clothing. You turned your head to look back at where Wooyoung and San were, but the in a blink of an eye, they vanished. 
“Don’t get this party started without us.” San’s voice frightened you as he was suddenly at the other end of the table, leaning over to give your forehead a light little kiss. Wooyoung, however, was now standing next to Yeosang, pushing your right leg opened wider so both men could stand in between them. “I can smell her from over there.”
“I know, our little slut is getting nice and wet from us teasing her.” Yeosang spat out such a foul name at you but it only made you whimper more. No way in your wildest dreams would you have ever suspected your life would end up with being sprawled out on a pool table with three Vampire, kiss and lick parts of your body that weren’t covered by your clothing.
Sinful. Hellborn. A daughter of Lilith. Words from your mother came flooding in your mind like little flashes of a candle flame blowing in the wind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she saw your future before you even knew it.
“F-fuck I need a taste,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at your pants, but what you didn’t expect was him to lift up the loose pant leg, exposing your right thigh. Yeosang pulled up your tunic, drawing his tongue out onto your hot skin. And finally, San, the last one, lifted your wrist to his nose, inhaling sharply before opening his mouth to suck on the soft flesh.
“I’d take a deep breath If I was you, pet,” Yeosang grunted with a sly smirk, making you let out a large gasp. You felt all three of them sink their teeth into you in a sudden snap, almost synchronised. The crunch of broken skin echoed in the room before ringing in your ears. You could feel their addictive vampiric venom pouring into your veins while they emptied you of blood. The euphoric feeling of being drained was indescribable. Like floating on a cloud, feeling the soft cotton tickle your body, leaving your toes and fingertips to tingle. 
“F-ffuck. Argh.” Was all you could mutter out before rolling your eyes back again. You could feel Yeosang’s deep chuckle against your tummy, feeling like the sound almost came from inside you. And without letting his fangs slip, he drew his hand to your covered core. Pressing sharply on your sensitive button through the loose fabric. This made you let out another gasp, calling for Yeosang. “S-Sangie pleasee.”
San retracted his fangs from your wrist before whining, “Hey, I want to hear you cry my name out. Can you do that for me, pretty?” The vampire kissed along your arm until he got to your neck. You nodded while he tilted your head to the side, exposing your jugular. “such a good little doll. Now I want you to scream.”
And with that, he sunk his teeth into the crease of your shoulder and neck, making you let out a loud, painfully lustful cry. “FUCK SAN!!!”
Wooyoung and Yeosang finally pulled away after a few more moments, licking their lips of your blood. Yeosang had a deep growl rumble in his chest as he ran his thumb over the puncture wound, smearing the crimson liquid on your red irritated flesh. Wooyoung did the same but drew a heart with it instead making himself giggle in approval. “Fuck if we didn’t want to keep you alive pet. We would have drunk you dry.”
Yeosang’s empty threat would have scared anyone, but for some reason, it only enticed you more. Pulling your shaky legs up, you placed your bare feet on the edge of the pool table before spreading your legs wide. The grumpy vampire seemed to get the hint, taking his long nail he ripped the fabric right in between your thighs, making a slit-like opening for him and Wooyoung to get a perfect view of your soaking cunt. “Now, why don’t you look at that.”
Yeosang growls, sliding a finger along your wet lips. Your whole body shivers, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. This shock wave made San sit up suddenly, pulling away from your shoulder, gasping for air as he let out the deepest, most feral-like groan you’ve ever heard.
“Fuck, She tastes so good when you do that. I need one of you to fuck her right now so I can taste that again” His blood-stained lips kissed along your shoulder smearing all the red crimson liquid over your soft skin. His kisses your feverish as if he had become drunk off you alone. The few buttons that were holding your shirt closed were now being opened by the feline male, slowly revealing your hidden flesh. 
“I volunteer as tribute.” 
Wooyoung protested, shaking his belt in a manner of desperation, but Yeosang quickly scoffed, snaking his belt out of the hoops of his pants in one swift motion before dropping it. “I’d like to see you fucking try. This pussy is mine.” Yeosang’s deep venomous growl made the younger vampire cower slightly, giving him a slight pout. 
“Why do you get to go first.” From your angle, you could have sworn you saw Wooyoung stomp his feet, making you giggle lightly, catching the attention of all three of the men around you. Yeosang kisses your tummy lightly, pulling your focus to him alone, his hands gripping your hips and body snuggling tightly against your hot core.
“What’s so funny, pet? Finding enjoyment over us fighting over you?” Yeosang’s lips travelled up your navel as he kissed along your newly exposed skin since San had now successfully unbuttoned your top, revealing your perky, tight nipples on your plump and soft breasts.
“Yes sir…” you whispered, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of his tongue sliding along your body.
“Fuck, she’s so good isn't she.” San covered his mouth with his hand, sighing at how obedient you had become. Reaching for your breast he squeezed your plump flesh together, pinching your nipples between his pointer and thumb. You choked out a whine as he rolled the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, almost completely distracting you from the vampire between your legs. 
“Come on, Sangie, hurry up. I want to be inside her so badly.” Wooyoung has hopped up onto the end of the pool table leaning on his hand behind his soft frame. His hand palming his covered crotch, panting slightly as he watched San and Yeosang ravish you. Your hazy eyes looked back to see San standing straight and tall behind you. Giving you a sweet smile that was hiding a sinister lust underneath.
Before you could say anything about what Wooyoung had said, you felt Yeosang’s thick cock head breached your tight pussy. “Oh FUck!” You bucked your hips, helping him slide into you deeply inch by inch until he bottomed you out. He was definitely girthier than Seonghwa, making you feel like the wind was being knocked right out of you. 
“Shhit. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Are you sure Seonghwa fucked you pet?” Yeosang began to ramble, pulling you down more so your ass was almost off the table. Sangie put his one hand under your thigh and hip, holding you still so he could slowly start thrusting into you, sharply and greatly. “So tight, so warm. Such a good little pet. You like being fucked baby? Bet you’d take all of us in one go if we’d asked.”
“Oh my god! Yes!!! please, Sangie.” You yelped at the top of your lungs just from the pure idea of having all eight of them. Pleasing them all. Dotting on them. You needed them just as much as they needed you. Yeosang gripped your shirt that hung open on the top and pulled you up until your face was inches from his and his lips, almost touching your own. 
“It’s master, my sweet little slut.” He yanked you off the pool table, pulling out for a moment so he could help you walk to the couch and even though his movements were rough, his grip was gentle, holding you closely in a way. Lovingly. “Come on baby, bend over the couch for me.”
He gave your ass a squeeze before letting you fall on your knees on the plush cushions. The couch was facing away from the pool table, so when you leaned over the top of it, you could get a perfect view of the other two vampires. “Okay, new game.” Yeosang knelt behind you, holding your hips, rubbing his palm against your skin. “Whoever gets a ball in first gets to take over and fuck our precious baby here. Deal?”
You had to laugh as San and Wooyoung scrambled around to grab their own pool stick. Your smile was bright as you were about to say some cheeky remark but you slowly felt Yeosang enter your soaked pussy from behind making you only let out a shaky whimper. His hands gripped tightly on your hips as your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Yeosang chuckled as he thrusted into your cunt in shallow motions. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up so your body was at an odd angle, but you couldn’t care less. “Last time I checked I’m not god’s pathetic son.”
Your fingers lased into the couch cushions, gripping onto it for dear life as you felt him slowly hammer into you faster. Your pussy would clench with each thrust making the most beautiful groans and whimpers fall from his lips. The hand that held the back of your neck, snaked around the front to clench tightly, blocking your airway just lightly, sending your brain into a fuzzy mess. 
“M-Master….” You cried, collapsing onto the edge of the couch. Your legs are shaking, and your arms are no longer able to hold yourself up anymore. San and Wooyoung were bickering, yelling at one another as they kept trying to get a ball in the hole. That was until San bent down and shot one of his stripes by hitting Wooyoung’s ball before getting it into the end left basket. 
Your glassy eyes could see San’s triumph, along with Woo’s high-pitched whine of defeat. The knot in your stomach was tightened with every thrust of Yeosang’s hips but before you could reach your climax he slipped out of your soaked cunt making you hiccup in a loud whine. “F-Ffuckk.”
“It’s okay, pet. Breathe…” You tried to take in a shaky breath as you felt your whole body being manhandled until you were sitting perfectly on someone’s lap. San’s naked lap, to be exact. His hazy smile got you blushing as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek so delicately.
“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take good care of you.” San’s cooe made you relax nicely against him as he lined his cock with your abused cunt. You were already so sensitive but somehow you were still craving more. The loud sound of pool balls whacking together got you startled but San stroked your cheek with his thumb slightly as he pulled your face towards his with his fingers. “Focus on me, baby. I want to see you come apart on my cock okay. No closing those pretty eyes."
You nodded with a short whimper followed by a simple yes that was so quiet you’re surprised San heard it. But then you remember that you weren’t fucking a normal man, but a beast in human form. A blood-sucking night-crawling beast that could kill you with his bare hands at any time. Your pussy clenched around his lengthy, and girthy cock making him groan. He slowly lifted your plump thighs up helping you gather a rhythm with your hips so you could ride him slowly. “S-sannie. Oh g-god please.”
“Such a good girl. Come on. Fuck you’re so tight...” You focused on his knitted brows and slightly parted mouth, seeing he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Your hips got faster as San started to buck upwards to match your movements. Your whole body was feeling like it was on fire, sensing you were close. He pushed your body up so he could help thrust deeper inside you. This left your tits to be right in his face, making him groan as he latched onto your plump flesh and sucked. Your breasts would be completely covered in hickeys by the time San was down them. And as his mouth traveled to the top of your breast you clenched around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. He lost himself in your scent, the way you squeezed him and the sound of your pretty moans. He needed more, just another taste. He needed to taste the flavour of you when you came.
“S-San I’m gonna cum.” You gasped, tangling your fingers threw his hair.
“Come for me, baby. Be a good little human for me and cream on my cock.” He licked your skin before biting down, sinking his fangs into the top of your breast, jackhammering you at an inhuman pace. You screamed so loud that the whole manor would have heard, coming so much around Sans hard cock. You were it grew bigger inside you as your clenched harder, feeling him drink his fill of your red hot liquid. 
“San.” A male voice called out but your head was too dizzy, feeling San continue his assault on your cunt and teeth in your flesh. “SAN!!” The voice got loud but your eyes began to droop feeling a wave of sleep erode through your body. You heard San lewdly growl animalisticly against you, still drinking your blood as his cock stilled tightly in you, letting him come deep inside you.
The voice before screamed again, but your eyes closed, and darkness took over before you could see or hear anything else.
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