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#so they can enjoy their victory together
starflungwaddledee · 5 months
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Congratulations on surviving good luck for your next year
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boorines · 2 months
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bf!wonwoo thoughts
genre: fluff, suggestive
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bf!wonwoo who thinks everything is better if he does it with you. playing games on his computer? wordlessly hands you a controller so you can play with him. reading a book? it’s much more enjoyable if you’re resting your head on his shoulder while he turns the pages for you. wonwoo who always has your favourite mug ready when he pours himself a cup of coffee. he refuses to leave bed in the morning if you’re still asleep, only willing to start his day when you start yours. he’ll trace patterns into the skin of your arm or run a finger along the curve of your cheek while you sleep, smiling sheepishly if your eyes blink open. wonwoo who says shopping for groceries is 100%, definitely, always a two person job. doesn’t matter if it’s only to pick up a carton of milk, he’s coming with you. says it’s for ‘moral support’ (he would superglue himself to you if he could).
bf!wonwoo who is so subtly flirty it drives you crazy. eye contact with frequent glances at your lips. sly smiles and once overs, then twice overs, when you try on a new dress. a hand darting out to wipe pasta sauce off the corner of your mouth. two hands wrapping a scarf securely around your neck. wonwoo who takes every opportunity to dote on you. in private or in public. slides your joint hands into his coat pocket as you walk together. opens his coat and pulls you flush against him when you’re not warm enough for his satisfaction. picks fluff out of your hair like it’s second nature. wonwoo who notes the way your cheeks flush pink and laughs, placing a kiss to your nose. wonwoo who follows up with a kiss to your lips when your ears bloom the same shade as your cheeks. “why so shy?” he whispers. but he knows.
bf!wonwoo who thinks the sound of your laughter is the prettiest he’s ever heard. so he does everything that he can to hear it. cheesy pick up lines when you fuss over the stove with him in the morning. stupid dad jokes that make you chuckle with a roll of your eyes. his eyes trained on you as a comedy film plays on tv, praying he catches your soft laughs at the scripted jokes. wonwoo who won’t hesitate to coax them out of you if he has to. soft pokes at your stomach, victorious when you splutter out a laugh. fingers tickling the soles of your feet as they rest on his lap, pulling whiny giggles from your throat. wonwoo who has a deep frown on his features when he sees your face wet with tears and your eyes bloodshot. wipes at your cheeks and places soft kisses to your hair, warm and soothing. relieved when you give him a watery smile. makes a mental note to never let you nip to the corner store alone, even if you relentlessly insist.
bf!wonwoo who gets a little jealous even if he pretends not to. wonwoo who simmers a little when you smile sweetly at the old friend you bump into in the frozen foods aisle. wonwoo who can’t help but let out a gruff sigh when you tell him how that friend had a penchant for cracking the silliest jokes. he mumbles under his breath when you question the change in his demeanour, getting sulkier the longer it takes for you to catch on. and when you do? the shy smirk you give him makes him short circuit. wonwoo who is quick to press his lips against yours the second the door closes behind you. wonwoo who mutters things like ‘mine’, ‘my baby’ and ‘no one but me’ into the crook of your neck. wonwoo who grins smugly when you nod feverishly, pressed against the door. wonwoo who peppers your skin with kisses, returning your need for him tenfold.
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written with @waldau in mind! since wonwoo is ur ult <3 thank u for reading and enjoying my work, ur reblogs make my day!!
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.
I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.
CW for ✨spice✨
You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.
That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.
But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.
You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.
On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.
When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.
“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.
Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.
“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”
And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)
At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.
The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.
You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.
“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”
Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.
“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.
“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”
Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.
Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.
On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.
At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.
“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.
Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.
He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.
The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.
You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.
“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.
“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”
You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.
There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.
He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.
“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”
Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.
You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.
He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.
“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.
He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.
He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.
He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.
“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”
You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.
“Talk to me?” he asks.
“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”
He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”
You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.
You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.
He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.
“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.
You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.
“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.
You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”
“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”
Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.
He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”
It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.
One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.
Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.
“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.
Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.
Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.
He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.
“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”
Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.
“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”
You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?
“Wait, but I already…”
“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”
You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”
“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”
You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.
You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.
“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”
You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”
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euphemiaamillais · 3 months
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money, power, glory - coriolanus snow
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on the night of your victory party, president snow decides that he wants a little more than a kiss from his victor—after all, don’t you ought to show your president just how patriotic you are?
cw: 18+//dub-con//age gap (reader is 18+)//abuse of power//mentions of exploitation//objectification//blowjobs//piv sex//coercion//loss of virginity//creampie//district 7 victor!reader and president!coryo
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the party is all for you; the gaud and festivity, the fountains of alcohol, the ridiculously clad guests. you won, they tell you—but it’s a reminder of the children you killed as you fought tooth and claw in that arena. it feels wrong, to be put on display like this when twenty-three children lay dead in their districts. the celebration of murder—it’s as if you’re the prize animal at the circus.
you had been primped and preened by your stylist drusilla all afternoon, gritting your teeth as every part of your body was plucked and waxed, as she pulled your hair back into some elaborate hairstyle, the pins now digging into your scalp. that pain—the dull ache of it—ironically served as a reminder of the pain you had to endure in the games. you only survived because you slit the throat of that boy from two, watching the blood trickle out of his neck as you practically limped away.
you’d since been repaired, though many a time you felt that familiar ache in your ankle—the one that had been broken—and supposed it was punishment for the cruelty of your actions. but put twenty-four helpless children in an arena and ask them to fight to the death, and you learn that the ‘inherent goodness’ in human beings is nothing but a thin veil maintained by law and order.
‘enjoying the show?’ you hear the familiar, cut-glass voice of drusilla, who’s currently festooned in a garish purple gown covered in feathers—with a hairpiece to match.
you shrug, taking a sip of the expensive champagne, feeling the bubbles fizz down your throat as you swallow. it’s all so much, the noise, the people—as if you’re being smothered.
‘you’re being awfully quiet,’ she sighs, brushing your shoulder with her perfectly manicured hand. ‘isn’t there anything to tempt you?’
drusilla is more sympathetic than most in the capitol; she’d listened as you’d told her about your family back in seven, the trees that spanned for miles, how you often lay under their green blanket and daydreamed of a world beyond this one. but still, she would never understand what being a victor was like, there were scarce few in panem who did. many turned to morphling or alcohol upon their return home, and you’d heard horror stories whispered about victor’s being sold for certain services.
‘i’m just tired, that’s all,’ you murmur, reaching for another glass of champagne as a waiter walks past.
drusilla cocks a thin brow, a suspicious look glittering in her eyes. the throng of people is dizzying as you down your second champagne, but you feel your nerves ease, and pray that this night will become more bearable.
‘come, they all want to see you—their victor,’ she grins, pearly white teeth glistening under the golden light of the strings of lanterns.
you take her hand, and she pulls you through the crowd. it’s a vertigo-inducing sea of rainbow; hands clasping together in applause, rich cheers from their panted mouths. you feel your own lips twitch into a smile, but your eyes are somewhere else; far away from this. you can smell the soil back home, see the larks that fly through the trees that reach to the heavens. there’s a dreadful pang of homesickness thrumming in your heart.
and yet you cannot return home, not when they’re all watching you, waiting for the pretty victor to make a witty remark, or to make bids on who will get to have her first. you’re acutely aware that your pink dress is practically see-though, it’s gauzy fabric not leaving much to the eye. your feet ache from the heels they’ve put you in, and you know no matter how much they primp and preen at you, you’ll always be district. an outsider among those in wealthy excess.
among the throngs of people, you spot him—president snow. your breath catches between your lips. you’ve seen him before, obviously. his touch has always strayed a little too much when he’s been around you, but of course, you’d never say anything. you wonder how such a young man—he’s only 24 after all—rose to such power. nobody can deny how attractive he is, piercing blue eyes and platinum blonde curls. if he hadn’t put you in these games, maybe you’d even be persuaded to like him.
drusilla pushes you to him, and you stumble a little, the champagne causing a heady, floaty feeling in your body as you make an attempt to make yourself presentable. you hadn’t expect to be thrust towards him so soon, but the way he’s staring at you is as if he’s been expecting this.
‘don’t be so nervous, you look gorgeous,’ drusilla reminds you as you come to a halt before president snow.
he’s wearing one of his finely tailored suits; this one the crimson shade of red you’ve so often seen him wearing. you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and feel the absence of drusilla’s hand from your back. when you crane your neck—only slightly, so as not to seem rude—she’s disappeared into the throng of brightly clad partygoers.
‘my favourite victor,’ president snow reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to it. his lips are strangely cold. not that you knew what to expect, but somehow it makes sense. his demeanour is like ice.
‘president snow,’ you lean back into curtsy, your bad ankle aching as you do so.
he smiles, icy eyes flickering over your form. he can practically make out your undergarments in that dress; they’re a shade of peach and of such a sheer satin that you can nearly see right through, but it leaves enough for the onlooker to be left wondering what lies underneath. your eyes follow him, and you clutch at your arms shyly, as if half of the capitol hasn’t seen you dressed so scantly.
‘shy tonight, are we?’ he inquires, edging close enough to you that you can make out the slight five o’clock shadow on his jaw.
‘i’m tired, that’s all,’ you mutter, flinching as one of his hands grips at your waist.
‘i would’ve thought you’d enjoy this spectacle, seeing as you made quite the circus out of the arena,’ he leaned in close to your ear, in what you assumed was an intimidation tactic. in spite of being hardened by the arena, deep down, president snow terrified you. ‘the way you killed that boy from two—brutal. but you made yourself the star of the capitol…’
his touch strays further, grasping at the thin fabric that surrounds your ass. one blonde brow arches in surprise, and his lips flicker into what you assume to be a smirk. if he was anyone else, you would’ve pushed him away, but he’s your president. one word and you’d be good as dead; and after enduring the games, you’d rather not come face-to-face with that sort of confrontation again.
‘how pretty,’ he muses, fingers tracing lightly against your form. ‘did you wear this just for me?’
your lips purse, but your body propels you to give a swift nod of your head. ‘do you like it?’
president snow smiles, eyes dancing at your quick wittedness. the girls he has are usually stupid whores who he pays to suck his cock—you, on the other hand, are a precious prize. intelligent, obviously, and startlingly beautiful. and you’re the first female victor since mags flannagan, not that he has any say over her because he was still crawling his way up under dr. gaul then.
‘oh yes, i think you know why,’ he drops the fabric, and takes a few steps away, a blasé look crossing his features.
he watches as your cheeks turn a pretty pink, and you cast your gaze to the ground. how charming; you feigning bashfulness. he’d seen you at your most primal, knife dragging along the jugular of that boy. you couldn’t charm your way out of this one.
the silence pierces the air, and you are prompted to speak—anything to change the topic. the stagnancy between you two has wrapped it’s suffocating arms around you—and you don’t want to choke.
‘i must thank you, president snow, for the festivities,’ you gesture to the ridiculous amount of decorations; the blaring music and the light show.
‘i’m glad you like it,’ he remarks, but his eyes are still trained on you. he wants something from you, and you’re not sure what. ‘i had to celebrate my favourite victor, after all.’
you stifle a scoff; his flattery is sickening. he’s never this charming among company. he’s cold, calculating—you can see it in his eyes, still, but he so obviously needs you wrapped around his little finger. and of course, you can’t resist. who would disobey their president, after all?
‘you flatter me, sir,’ he swallows thickly at the appellation. god, he’d love to hear you call him that as he bends you over one of his expensive armchairs. he wonders if you’d beg him to stop, or if you’d take it. he can’t figure out which type you are, just yet.
‘there’s nothing wrong with flattery, don’t you think?’ he is close to you again, breath fanning your cheek. ‘especially when it comes from your president.’
you feel your body freeze up. there’s something so intimidating about him, and although you want to outsmart him, the way he makes your knees buckle turns you into another one of those bumbling capitol fools.
‘now, if you’ll excuse me, sweetheart. i’ve got a few matters to attend to,’ he backs away, leaving in a flourish of red.
you have to blink a few times to register his absence, and reach for another glass of champagne as a waiter holds out a decadent tray to you. why not? you think, taking time to sip elegantly at this one. there’s no harm in imbibing if you have to make it through this hellish night.
drusilla taps you on the back as you’re shoving an expensive vol-au-vent past your painted lips. when you turn around, she’s shocked to see your mouth full of the pastry, cheeks rounded out as you attempt to swallow it. the hunger pangs had grown considerably, and when you finally gulped it down, the effects of the champagne made you giggle.
‘oh honey,’ she shakes her head, reaching for a pristine napkin to wipe at the flakes of pastry by your lips.
the night had drawn on, and you’d been left with an anxious feeling after your encounter with president snow. everytime somebody so much as brushes against you, your head had whipped around as you searched for a head of perfectly-set blonde curls and a crimson coat. to your luck, it had only ever been waiters, carting more champagne. you reckoned you were drunk enough now that you didn’t care how you acted.
let them think you were a fool, you’d be heading home tomorrow anyways.
‘how much have you had to drink?’ she inquires, and watches as you furrow your brows in thought.
‘six, no—seven glasses,’ you admit, and drusilla scolds you with a clucking tongue, her pink curls bobbing as she shakes her head.
‘president snow won’t be very happy with that,’ she remarks.
your mouth turns into a curious pout, watching as her face falters into some sort of cryptic, far-away look. you run the soft fabric of your dress through your fingers as you let the words settle. no, it doesn’t make sense.
‘why would he care?’ you asked, a little piqued by the thought that he’d even be remotely interested in whether you were sober or not.
drusilla’s purple lips are drawn into a thin line, and she bends in close as if she’s ready to tell you a secret. your throat’s gone dry, the anxiety prying at you with it’s cold hands.
‘look, sweetie,’ her golden tone is laced with a little condescension. ‘president snow won’t like that you’re drunk. it won’t make the situation ideal for him.’
your brows quirk into a look of confusion. situation? drusilla sees your loss of words and takes it upon herself to inform you of the events. how naive you are, that you’ve got no idea just what he wants with you.
‘you’ve been asked to stay the night at the mansion,’ her eyes flicker to search for any eavesdroppers, and then she continues. ‘look, i’m sorry if i didn’t tell you earlier, but he’s asked to keep quiet about it. what with the others being jealous—’
‘others?’ your voice falters.
‘well, sweetie, you know how desirable victors are. president snow just wants to make sure nobody else gets their hands on you. that’s why he’s keeping you here, under close guard.’ drusilla bites her lip, revealing that she’s worried for you. she didn’t have much of a choice in your fate, but if she could forewarn you, she would.
you understood now why he’d been so touchy before—clearly he was jealous that somebody was trying to get their hands on his precious victor.
you lose all your words, mouth opening, nothing spilling out. it feels like it’s been filled up with dirt; you can hardly speak. drusilla goes to strike your arm, but is prevented from doing so as she’s whisked away by some blue-haired man harping on about her latest designs. once again, you feel the pangs of loneliness.
you had to reconcile yourself to the fact that the rest of your life—however long that may be—would be a lonely existence. you’d spent the better part of the month on the train, zigzagging back and forth between the districts, reading off prewritten speeches as you had to face the families of the fallen. all those children—their children—dead.
every night, you’d taken those pills prescribed by the doctors, the ones that stopped you from waking up with your hand around your throat as you screamed. you slept a dreamless sleep, but it became hard to not depend on them. what would you do without them tonight?
the party draws on long into the night, and you grow bored and overwhelmed. as per drusilla’s advice, and also not wanting to wake up with a throbbing headache tomorrow morning, you resorted to drinking the assorted non-alcoholic beverages.
your head is pounding by one am, but the party doesn’t seem to cease by any means. deciding you’ve had enough, and that nobody would really miss you—after all, nobody’s even talked to you for at least two hours—you stumble your way across the marble steps of the mansion. you hazily remember drusilla telling you what door you were meant to enter by, and you find it manned by a singular avox.
without a word, they let you inside, and you trail tipsily after them up a velvet staircase. your ankles roll as you climb the steps, head spinning, but it doesn’t take long to reach your room. your feet are aching, and when the avox leaves you to your own company, you practically tear the shoes off your feet.
you lay back against the white sheets, revelling in the feeling of the thousand-count cotton brushing against your skin. you’d never felt anything like it, and could feel your eyes shutting as you relax into the plush sheets.
you awaken what seems like hours later, but only twenty minutes have passed on the alarm clock by the bed. the sound of footsteps can be heard outside your door, and you’re surprised you can make it out as the party still booms outside the vast windows of the mansion.
you sit up, heart racing, and head throbbing slightly. you’re groggy from the champagne, and the bubbly tipsiness has given way to the absolute misery of sobering up.
the door opens, a small sliver of light giving way to the shadowy figure that progresses into the room. you squint, unable to make out a face, but pray it’s not one of the men you’ve heard were making bids for the victor.
you sigh a breath of relief when you see president snow, not a hair out of place as he stands beside your bed. your dress is up around your thighs, and you can see his blue eyes dancing across your frame.
‘president snow,’ you murmur into the darkness.
you wondered who had turned off the light in the first place—your memory is hazy at best but you don’t remember flicking the switch. an avox must have come past while you were sleeping.
‘i see my favourite victor has taken some respite,’ he muses, one cold hand reaching out to stroke your thigh.
you flinch back reflexively, not used to the icy feeling against your skin. nor are you used to the prying hands of men. the most you’d ever done was kiss a boy, and even then, that was years ago, you weren’t even sure it counted.
‘sorry,’ you spit out, lips trembling with apology. he only laughs, hand still tracing your smooth skin.
‘no need to apologise. i’d rather you doze here than fall asleep on a bench where any of those men could lay a hand on you,’ he makes a sound of disgust, shaking his head at the thought. ‘i couldn’t let them spoil my pretty victor.’
you feel your cheeks warm—did he really think you were pretty? but you remembered who he was; in fact he was the very reason there were even any games at all. he could put a stop to all this if he wanted, and yet he didn’t. you couldn’t let him fool you with his charm.
‘it’s very thoughtful of you, president snow,’ you offer, not wanting to raise suspicion in him.
in the moonlight, you can see a smile flicker across his lips. his hand moved further up to the apex of your thigh, and your breath hitches. what was he doing?
‘do you like that?’ he murmurs, leaning in against your ear, breath hot.
you can’t think of what to say. your thighs tingle a little with the touch, but you don’t want him there. it’s wrong. he’s the president though, and how can you tell him no when he could have you killed?
‘you’re a quiet one, aren’t you?’ he mutters, but wanting to rouse a sound out of you, he moves his hand to press flush against your panties, thumb stroking the area where your clit is.
you let out a breathy gasp; the pleasant warmth flooding your belly. his brows quirk up at your quick response—you’re so willing. he wonders how far he can push you; of course he wants to have you no matter what, after all, it’s his right as president—but he wants to know how much of a whore you are under those pretty clothes.
he knew what district girls were like. lucy gray—though that name made him shudder—bent easily under his guidance. he hoped you’d do the same; obey him. he had more power now, six years after his stint as a mentor and then peacekeeper. he kept that to himself; everybody else simply thought he’d been struck down with a bad bout of the flu, when really he’d been uncovering rebel plots by day and by night was burying his cock deep inside of whatever district slut would have him.
‘please, president snow,’ you beg, head spinning as he rubs at your sensitive nub.
‘please what?’ he inquires, an undercurrent of menace in his voice.
‘i mean—are you sure we should be doing this?’ you furrow your brows with anxiety. ‘aren’t there men who want to pay you good money for this?’
you squeeze your legs together in the hopes that he’ll stop, but this only angers him and he uses his muscular hands to pry your thighs apart. you can’t deny him this; he wants it, and he’ll have it.
‘oh, they’re not going to get you. no, you’re far too precious for the likes of them,’ he shook his head in disbelief. ‘when i realised you were going to be sold to some scumbag who’s been divorced three times, well, i couldn’t let that happen.’
your mouth stretches into a perplexed pout, and you let out another soft moan as he rubs diligently at your clit. his other fingers brush over your red lace panties, and he sucks in a breath as he feels how soaked you are. surely you cannot deny him when you’re practically begging for it?
‘but…’ your lips tremble and you are almost deterred from saying what you want to by the scornful look painted across his noble features.
‘surely you don’t want me,’ you scramble to find an excuse.
‘why wouldn’t i? it’s not like you’re a girl anymore, hm? you’re nineteen, and ever so pretty,’ his other hand thumbs your cheek. you didn’t feel it, but you’d been crying. his thumb presses against a droplet.
‘please,’ you plead. ‘you wouldn’t enjoy it—i’m a virgin.’
he laughs, shaking his head at your stupidity. he hasn’t suspected it, what with the way you were dressed; the gown revealing far too much of your body to him—he could see the top of your nipples sticking out of the neckline.
‘oh no,’ he clucked his tongue. ‘then i simply must have you. how could let you i waste your virginity on any of those men when i could have you?’
you shake your head, body trembling as you feel yourself give way to his fingers, which were slowly bringing you to your pleasure. you clutch at the plush sheets and feel yourself gush, your panties growing even more damp.
he can’t believe it, how quickly you came. he wonders if you’d ever even touched yourself before. sure, you’d killed a boy, but you really knew very little about the world, and even less of men. it enthralled him.
his cock strained in his suit pants, and he let out a low grunt. you responded with a shocked look, but sighed as he stood up, letting go of your thighs. the way he’d touched you—it was scandalous. surely he’d be in a lot of trouble if anyone found out?
but your heart fell when you remembered that he was president. it’s not as if you were anything more than a hired whore who had to do her duty by him.
‘you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ he called out, combing a hand over his perfectly styled hair.
your mouth went dry, but you stood up, wanting to be defiant, clawing for anything to make you seem like you had some sense of autonomy. it was a lost cause, however. you forgot how he towered over you now that your heels were discarded. you couldn’t face up against him.
‘i said, you’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?’ his voice was wrought with ire this time, and you nodded.
‘yes sir,’ you respond with a clear tone. you’re surprised you even managed it.
he reaches out to stroke your face again, sighing as your warm cheeks meet the cold pads of his fingers. you tremble a little, knees buckling in fear. anything could happen.
‘now, are you going to be a good girl and show your president how patriotic you are?’ he asks.
‘yes, mr president,’ you reply blankly. the name sends the blood straight to his cock.
‘then get on your fucking knees,’ he commands.
your head is spinning, but you somehow find your way to the ground, knees aching as you press them into the wooden floorboards. you hear the sound of something unzipping, and when you glance up, you come face to face with his cock.
he’s hard, and huge—not that you’ve ever seen one before—and he lets out a heavy grunt as he sees how pliant you are. he wants nothing more than to fuck that pretty little face of yours and watch how you gag around his length. he hasn’t known he was so big until he’d gotten to district 12 and the stupid district sluts kept choking on his cock. when he’d dressed in academy rouge he’d only ever known his own hand. but now, he knew what power he could exert with all eight inches of himself.
‘good girl,’ he strokes your chin, and when you open your mouth, he slides his thumb over your bottom lip.
your saliva coats his thumb, and you gag a little as he slides it to the back of your mouth. a small grin flickers across his lips; if you’re choking on his thumb, just imagine how bleary-eyed you’ll be as you gag around his cock.
‘god, i don’t want to think about what i would be missing out on if you’d died in that arena,’ he tuts at the thought, and slides his thumb out of your mouth, smearing your own saliva at the corner of your lips.
your lipstick is smudged now, and he’s determined to ruin it even more; perhaps even have your mascara running down your cheeks as you take his cock in your mouth.
‘when i’d heard that the victor was to be the eighteen year old girl from district 7, well, i knew i’d be able to have you. especially once i got a look at you, in your victory dress. did they make it that short on purpose? to make my cock hard?’ he laughs, reminiscing how he’d taken a whore that night that looked just like you, pretending it was you that he was fucking from behind.
you shiver, terrified by him, his words. they’re disgusting. the way he viewed you as something to exploit—and it can’t even be considered taboo because you’re nineteen, after all. if the president wants you, he’ll get you.
‘answer me!’ he scowls, tugging at your intricate hairstyle, which hurts because the pins holding it together were already poking at your scalp.
‘no,’ you murmur, because it’s the truth. you wore what they told you to, you didn’t think it was supposed to be for him.
‘no?’ he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘well then, tonight at least—they must’ve known i wanted to have you. wasn’t going to let you get away from me this time.’
you swallow thickly, mouth agape in terror, knees trembling against the cool floor. you can feel the bruises forming on them; the dull ache of kneeling is humiliating.
finally, he presses his cock against your open mouth, a little pleased that it was hanging agape in shock, making it easier for him to slide it right in. you freeze, blinking back tears of mortification, but you can't say no, not when he's your president, not when there's that nagging ache in your core that makes you yearn for his fingers back against you.
you open wider, and he slides himself in, cock hitting the back of your throat instantly. you gag, the tears now dribbling foolishly down your cheeks, and president snow just laughs, the sound mottled with undertones of a soft groan. you wrap your lips around him, and move to bob your head up and down, but he grabs your hair and tugs it towards him.
you cry out, scalp stinging and mouth stuffed full to the brim with his cock. his grip tightens as he begins to thrust into your mouth, grunting as feels your saliva coat his length. he can't even fit himself all in, it's pathetic, but he'll help you learn in time how to deepthroat, so he can watch as your mascara runs while you beg him to push himself further down your throat. you'll become his personal fuckdoll.
'teeth,' he winces as he feels your top teeth make contact with the skin of his cock, and embarrassed, you make sure to push your top lip around them.
his lips stretch around a groan, forcing your nose to meet his pubic bone—the sound of your gags are delightful, and when his eyes flutter shut, you know he's enjoying it. he tosses his head back, cock throbbing as he forces it back and forth in your mouth. when his eyes open again, it's to the sight of your mascara running, thick black streaks painting your cheeks as you choke around him.
'so pretty,' he strokes your cheek, smearing the mascara even more. he wonders if you'll still be crying as he stretches you out, filling your cunt with his big cock. probably; he's forgotten how much whining virgins do.
feeling himself close, his thrusts grow more haggard, and you feel his balls slap against your chin as you attempt to breathe—through your nose, of course. his movements are suffocating, you're grasping at his hips, praying for it to be over—and then it is.
hot sticky spurts of cum slide right down your throat as he gives a loud moan, crying your name in praise. part of you—the part you revile—reddens at his praises, you want nothing more than to please your president. the other part of you tries not to gag as the pearly ropes of his cum slither achingly slow down your throat.
'good girl, swallowing it all—you'd do anything for your president, wouldn't you?' he coos, pulling his cock out of your mouth.
your lips ache, and you're sure the back of your throat is blooming purple with a bruise; but you nod, eyes all fucked out because your cunt is dripping wet, all for him.
'well, i really only want one more thing from my victor...' his voice trails off, lips pursing. you can see the desire in his eyes, icy gaze dripping with lecherous intent.
and yet, you cannot deny the fact that he had already made you cum once, that your body is begging for him. you hate it. you want to scream—if only you weren't so tired and your mouth didn't ache so sorely.
'how about you lay back in the bed, hm?' his voice is soft, laced now with the sweet tone he uses to charm the wives of senators and the little girls that give him roses.
you oblige blindly, and rise, knees black and blue, legs trembling, but somehow you find yourself laid back against the plush sheets once again.
‘can’t believe nobody else has had you,’ he murmurs, removing his shoes carefully, and then undoing his suit. it’s brand new, and he doesn’t want to spoil it.
when he’s undressed to his boxers, you can’t help but admire his form. he’s well-toned, biceps muscular, the slight formation of abs on his stomach, and you can see his cock has once again hardened. you press your thighs together in want, and he watches as you gaze at him, half-terrified, eyes blown wide, and yet half-wanton, body beckoning him to take you and make you his.
‘god, you’re so pretty,’ he muses, crawling across the bed and placing his arms either side of you.
you shiver, suddenly feeling brushed with cold, perhaps it’s from him. how fitting, you think, that his name and touch are both reminiscent of the cold. you can feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, a reminder of your helplessness in this situation. the way he’s going to do whatever he wants with you.
he slides his fingers under the straps of your dress, forcing it down your arms. you lie still as a stone, letting him slide the dress down your body, exposing your breasts, watching him sigh as your nipples respond to the frigid temperature radiating from his body.
he takes one breast in his mouth, laving at your nipple until it hardens under his tongue. your hands are urging you to clutch at his perfectly styled hair, but you cannot move; the tears are brimming in your eyes and you’re not sure if they’re out of shame that he’s touching you, or shame that your body is so pliant to his touch.
he pushes the dress down further, and gets on his knees until he’s completely stripped you of it. there you lay, among the pristinely white sheets, the party alive outside of your window; completely bare besides your panties. your skin is pocked with goosebumps as he runs his hands over your bare stomach, fingers latching at the waistband of your panties.
‘god, are you wet for me?’ he chuckled as he removes your soaked panties—still evidence that he’d managed to make you cum.
you are unresponsive until he gives your skin a pinch between his slender fingers, and a soft yelp escapes your lips.
‘talk to me,’ he commands, though there’s an undertone of begging. not that the president should ever have to beg. ‘i can’t have my pretty victor keeping silent, especially not while i fuck her. i want to hear the sweet sounds that are going to come from your lips.’
you give a nod, eyes flickering to glance at the ceiling, watching as the hazy lights from outside dance upon the ornate eaves. one of his hands touches your cheek, the chill bringing you back to meet his gaze.
‘gonna make you mine,’ he groans, reaching down to palm at his cock through his boxers.
you push away the tears at your eyes, and your hands go down to clutch at the sheets. you’re still a little floaty from the champagne, but it can’t seem to take you away from what is occurring right before your eyes.
'look at me!' he snaps, hard cock now pressing against the inside of your thighs.
'sorry,' you manage to get out, lips trembling as you brace yourself—he's big... too big.
'fuck, can't believe i get to have you all for myself...but i suppose it's the least i deserve as president,' a soft laugh plays upon his lips, the sound soon mottled by a low moan.
he eases the tip into your hole, sighing at your tightness. your eyes flutter shut, but strangely, your core only tingles as he slides himself into you. it's the ultimate betrayal—your body is yielding to him, growing wetter as he sheathes himself completely inside of you; at least, most of his eight inches.
'so fucking wet,' he grins devilishly, beginning to buck his hips gently.
you look so angelic, hair sprawled out on the pillow like a halo, the soft lights from the party glowing against your skin. coriolanus wants to take it slow, in spite of how much his cock is throbbing, because you are his prize—he must relish you. he can't let your virginity go to waste, after all. half the capitol has been vying for it, and now he is the one to take it. he imagines the disgruntled looks on the faces of the men who had bid for you when he informs them that you've been spoiled—and if any of them complained, well, he's the president. he could see to their... accidental deaths.
as he stretches out your tight walls, a pretty moan escapes your lips, by accident, but he takes this as a sign that you are surrendering yourself to him. coriolanus smiles a little to himself, and fastens the pace slightly, grunting as your body opens itself to his caresses.
‘you like that, hm?’ he inquires, one cold hand moving down to rub your clitoris.
you let out another gasp, this time of shock and pleasure, as his thumb presses against your sensitive nub. his eyes dance with delight as you come apart under him, your cunt growing slicker by the second. you’re so beautiful, and he glances down at the part where you two meet—his big cock stretching out your tight walls. a milky ring of your arousal coats his shaft, only driving him more lustful as he fucks you.
‘president snow…’ you cry out, trying to shove his hand away.
you can see the ire returning to his eyes, and when he presses down on your clit harder you stop and allow your body to relax. you realise it’s fruitless to try and fend him off anymore—he’s making you feel good, after all. but that’s the terrible part of it, the fact that you can feel waves of pleasure washing over you again. he’s smiling sickly, groaning as he ruts into you with grunts.
‘you're so fucking tight,’ he moans, watching you moan with pleasure as his fingers bring you to climax.
‘so good…’ you say, barely above a whisper, but the knowing look he cast you makes you admit it—after all, perhaps he’ll be kinder next time. let you decide when you want it.
‘yeah? you like the way my big cock is filling you out? how your president is reminding you who you belong to?’ he grunts, and you give a lazy nod.
the coil in your stomach comes unbound slowly as the combination of his cock stretching you out and his thumb rubbing diligent circles around your clit drives you over the edge. your toes curl sightly, arms moving up to grip at his back. you find the smooth, cold skin is surprisingly toned; hard muscles prominent under your touch.
you feel your pleasure peaking, body dancing with warmth and want. you try to stifle your moan by turning your head into the pillow, but his hand grasps your chin and pulls you back to meet his gaze.
‘don’t turn away from me!’ he scolds, brows knitting into a pained expression.
‘i’m sorry…’ you murmur, too ashamed to meet his gaze.
you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body as his thumb coaxes another orgasm out of you—your second one for the evening. your cheeks fill with warmth as your arousal coats his cock, causing coriolanus to let out a breathy groan.
you pray that it ends soon, but your body continues to dance with pleasure and satisfaction, giving into him, allowing him to make his stake in you. his pretty little victor that he was deflowering—and she came around his cock and everything!
‘fuck,’ coriolanus grunts, hands travelling down to grab at the soft skin of your hips as he pounds into you. ‘all fucking mine. taking me so well…’
when you clench around him, he feels his balls tighten, and cock still for a moment as he reaches his own climax. you’re mewling so prettily—half-begging for him to stop by the way your head roles about in a dissociative reverie shows him that if your heart cannot be persuaded to take him, your body will.
‘shit,’ he spits as he slows his pace, dragging in and out of you at a painfully still speed.
he doesn’t want to finish so quickly, but you’re so fucking tight and your slick coating his cock has set his nerves on fire—his tip is throbbing with desire. coriolanus’ fingers are plunged into the supple skin of your hips, digging far enough that you feel a few bruises forming under the skin.
'so fucking tight,' he curses, sliding himself all the way out before filling you up to the hilt again. the sound of your wet cunt squelching around his big cock reverberates against the walls.
another moan escapes your plump lips, egging coriolanus on—clearly you're enjoying this to some extent; you've come twice tonight. next time he might not be so kind, after all, he's only being so sweet because you're a virgin—you're more like a prize to enjoy than anything else.
'gonna fill you up with my cum,' he sneers, eyes rolling shut as he pushes himself against your g-spot. you contract around him in response. 'you'd like that, wouldn't you? taking your president's cum? so patriotic, aren't you?'
the way he's still squeezing and pinching at your hips urges you to respond, so you cast a groggy nod—the champagne is still making your head swim.
'good girl,' he praises, and you respond with a genuine smile.
coriolanus grunts heavily, his balls tightening, and he feels hot spurts of cum spurt out from the tip of his cock. the relief that washes over him is blissful; watching you take every last drop of him makes him sigh deeply. you can't help but squirm at the sticky feeling as he thrusts his cum back up into you. you're trying not to lurch away in disgust—his hands, now clamping down on your shoulders, are keeping you there, close to him.
when he pulls out, he gazes at your weeping cunt in awe as his cum trickles down your thighs. you’ll always be his—he can see that by the tiny smudge of blood that also coats your inner thigh on one side. he doesn’t know if he can bear to sell you to those other men now; perhaps he’ll just have to lock you up here and keep you all to himself.
‘thank you, mr president,’ you murmur, half on the verge of sleep.
your body is humming with exhaustion, and you begin to curl up into a supine position, trying to force away the uncomfortable combination of his sticky cum and the dull ache between you thighs.
‘i’ll be back tomorrow,’ he presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing a few tendrils of hair out of your half-closed eyes. ‘don’t think you can get away from me now, my pretty victor.’
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neckromantics · 3 months
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Spoiling Astarion?
Bringing him back little things that remind you of him whenever he stays back at camp just so he knows you're still thinking of him while you're apart.
Astarion being so used to receiving little gifts from your travels that when you arrive back at camp, he's standing by your tent with his palm outstretched just waiting to see what you've brought him this time. The giddy little grin that's plastered on his face when you fork over the shiniest object you could get your paws on. All varying in degrees of monetary value, for sure, but all with a unique story of their own.
A couple of old coins from an ancient crypt. The entrance of which you'd all stumbled upon when Karlach punched a wall of a cave in victory after a particularly tough battle, only to come back with a handful of bones and cobwebs. The look of shock on her face when the entire wall came crumbling down on the group was enough to have you in stitches, entirely too weak from laughter to stand. You laid beneath the rubble for so long that Gale had assumed you developed a concussion and needed rescuing.
The PRETTIEST, crystal goblet that you'd stolen right from under a rich lady's nose under the guise that you were testing her drink for poison. You'd downed her ale in two gulps the second you exited the building. Was in the middle of patting yourself on the back for being oh-so cunning when you nearly fell on your ass. It was a sick, twisted coincidence that her ale did, in fact, turn out to be poisoned. But, at least you had a spare antidote on you that you gulped down before Shadowheart could find you in such a state. (And make fun of you, no doubt.)
A set of handmade jewelry– not stolen this time, if you can believe it. Wyll had pointed out the small shop to you while the two of you were out shopping for supplies. Said something about how it might be a good idea to pick out a new pair of socks since you'd been complaining about how holey yours had become after so much running around. Which was a good idea, truly– but the second you'd set eyes on the shop window, you knew what you wanted. A matching necklace and earring set, lovingly crafted with silver chain, so very delicate. So very understated that one could almost miss it among the rest of the more garish examples that sat alongside. Three, very small, opalescent stones shone so pretty at you beneath the sunlight that you could hardly look away. You would have given the shopkeep your left kidney just to see Astarion wearing them, but thankfully, it wasn't necessary. (You became so feral in your excitement to hear the very reasonable price that you nearly threw your entire gold pouch at the clerk's head and then kissed him on the mouth.)
You're an eager one. Astarion never has to wait– always receives his gifts before you can so much as slip your travel pack off of your shoulders. He goes real quiet for a moment. Has this far away look while gazing down at whatever it is, turning it over in his palm a couple of times to really study it.
The two of you sit together while you go through the rest of the day's spoils, and he listens while you tell him all about how you found today's special little trinket. Insists you spare no details in how you acquired it. (Unless any of those details are boring, dear. Do spare him of those.)
You know that there have to be some things he enjoys more than others. You know that there has to be some things you've given him that he outright dislikes. There have been a few occasions where he'd poked fun at you for bringing back something silly. Like "The roundest pebble you'd ever seen, Astarion, look at it roll!" or "This drawing of the two of you that you'd doodled on a stray sheet of parchment when you couldn't find anything else no matter how hard you tried!". BUT he has never refused anything you've chosen to bring back for him.
He thinks it's rather sweet that you've dedicated yourself to proving you still think of him when he stays behind. Wonders why you are the way that you are. Sort of loves you to death for it. Definitely does NOT invest in a bag of holding for everything once it all begins to stack up.
Definitely doesn't insist on you taking one half of the jewelry set so you always have a little piece of one another on you at all times. That would be ridiculous. (Earrings or necklace, darling?)
Sequel?
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asmosmainhoe · 4 months
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MC's eyes glow when they use magic
Hello ☆ I hope u're having a nice day :D I had one request for the Obey Me brothers kek, their reaction to an MC whose eyes glow when they use magic, and when they use the demons powers their eyes change color to the sin color (Ex. Red for Beel, Blue for Luci, etc) and it feels as if they connect with MC in a deeper level? Sorry if its too weird or specific! I've been enjoying reading your writings 🤗
-anon
Note: I'm so sorry that it's so short, love! I've been so busy preparing things for the holidays since I'm visiting my home country :'D
Gender: neutral
Warnings: heavy language
Lucifer
He loves the fact that your eyes glow in the color of his sin when you channel his magic
It fills him with pride to see how that makes the connection between you two so obvious for others
That's right. That's his power
"I must say that blue suits you wonderfully."
He's very casual about it, but he's definitely doing a small dancy dance of victory behind closed doors
Mammon
Of course he is head over heels for your glowing eyes when you channel his magic! They basically look like the shiniest coins he has ever seen!
Besides it makes it more than obvious that you guys have a pact together
"Fuck yea! That's my human over there!"
Please use his power so that people know you're fucking shit up with his help
Leviathan
Levi is absolutely geeking out over the fact that your fucking eyes glow when you use magic
I mean if that doesn't scream main character vibes then I don't know what does
He's so going to use that as inspiration for rpg's or headcanons/fanfictions in the future
And then they glow in his sin's color too when you channel his magic? It's so strangelt intimate that he can't help, but blush
Satan
Since he has read about it he's not really surprised by that, but it's still a huge difference to see it with his own eyes
Especially when he feels you channeling his powers and your eyes light up in his color
Seeing that makes Satan feel like someone punched him in the guts, but in a good way? If that makes sense?
Asmodeus
Your eyes are literally glowing in not only his magics colors, but it's also his absolute favorite one as well!
"MC, you look fantastic when you use my powers! Absolutely stunning!"
Asmo can't stop gushing about it and he always compliments you for an hour straight whenever it happens
This is what others must feel like when he's seducing them with his eyes
Beelzebub
Imagine you have this angry, skilled sorcerer person absolutely wreck your shit, because you wronged them, but their eyes also glow red?! How intimidating is that?
Unlike the person who is suffering under your magic, Beel is completely mesmerized
He can't find the right words to describe how wonderful you look with his color right now
It makes him forget about his hunger
Belphegor
Belphie is so smug about it and can and will rub it under everyone's nose
"Did MC use your magic? No, bitch. Their eyes were purple so sit down."
It's just a very nice and absolute confirmation for the fact that he is your favorite and that his magic was the most useful one to you in that moment
His brothers will never hear the end of it, because he keeps casually mentioning it at every given opportunity
---
Masterlist
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willowbelle · 1 month
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Not a Chance
Zoro & Jealousy + Possessiveness
per this request!
❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎
༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧
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cw: dom! zoro, jealous zoro, very possessive zoro, semi-public sex, wall sex, arm pinning, rough sex, loud sex, lots of dirty talk (im so fr i cooked w the dirty talk on this one), "be loud, let them hear you." type :^)
summary: zoro & reader are privately dating. zoro gets very jealous when he sees law & kidd flirting with reader at a party. zoro confronts the men. zoro aims to show everyone who reader belongs to ;)
word count: ~3,200
tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail
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Not a Chance
As the celebratory atmosphere envelops the aftermath of the victorious battle in Wano, you find yourself nestled in a corner of the bustling banquet hall, the glow of lanterns casting warm hues over the scene.
It's a moment of triumph, shared among allies turned friends, but for you and Roronoa Zoro, it holds an added layer of complexity.
You and Zoro had been quietly dating, your relationship concealed beneath the veil of secrecy that he prefered. His private nature means that your romance remains known only to a select few, a fact that both frustrates and intrigues you.
But in moments like these, surrounded by fellow pirates and allies, the clandestine nature of your connection is put to the test.
Zoro, with his stoic demeanor and unwavering dedication to his goals, is a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart. Yet, beneath his tough exterior, lies a depth of emotion that he reserves solely for you.
In quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of others, he lets his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that few are privileged to witness.
For you, being with Zoro is much like navigating uncharted waters, thrilling, yet… unpredictable.
His fierce loyalty and unwavering support are constants in your life, grounding you amidst the chaos of the pirate world. And while his private nature sometimes leaves you craving more, you cherish the moments when he lets you in, when he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.
In the hidden corners of The Sunny, away from the eyes of your crewmates, you and Zoro share stolen glances and intimate moments that are reserved solely for each other.
The storage closets, nestled deep within the bowels of the ship, become your sanctuaries of intimacy. There, amidst the shadows and whispers of the vessel, you and Zoro find solace in stolen moments of closeness.
The dim light filtering through the cracks in the door paints a soft glow upon your faces as you press together in the confined space, your breath mingling in the air.
The rhythmic sound of The Sunny’s hull against the waves provides a soothing backdrop to your whispered intimacy; the thrusts of his hips, your moans against his neck. In those hidden moments, you bare your souls to each other; sharing fears, dreams, desires, and everything in between.
----
Amidst the revelry, you notice glances and subtle gestures from some of the other pirates, members of both the Heart Pirates and Kidd Pirates, their intentions not entirely innocent.
Their flirtations and insinuations don't go unnoticed, and although you remain steadfast in your commitment to Zoro, a part of you can't help but feel flattered by the attention.
As the night progresses, Zoro's demeanor shifts. His usually composed facade cracks, replaced by a simmering undercurrent of jealousy and possessiveness. You can feel his gaze burning into you from across the room, his grip tightening imperceptibly around his sake cup.
It's Law who approaches first, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he engages you in conversation, his proximity closer than necessary.
"Enjoying the festivities, y/n?" Law asks, his voice laced with playful intent.
"Absolutely," you reply, offering a polite smile, though you can't shake the sense of unease at Zoro's watchful stare.
Zoro's reaction is instantaneous, his jaw clenched as he moves to intercede, positioning himself subtly between you and Law, a silent declaration of his claim.
Next comes Killer, his playful banter veering into suggestive territory, earning a low growl of warning from Zoro.
"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" Killer remarks, his tone teasing.
Zoro's response is a terse nod, his gaze never leaving Killer's masked face.
Even Kidd, usually brash and unbothered by such matters, can't resist throwing a teasing comment your way, only to be met with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
"Careful, y/n, you might give poor Zoro here a heart attack," Kidd jokes, flashing a mischievous smirk.
----
As the flirtations from the other pirates intensify, you feel a mixture of discomfort ripple through you. Seeking a moment of respite, you excuse yourself from the crowd and make your way to a quieter corner of the banquet hall where you spot Nami, your best friend and trusted crewmate, engaged in conversation with Robin.
"Nami," you greet, relief flooding your voice as you join them. "Mind if I steal you away for a moment?"
Nami turns to you with a knowing smile, her sharp eyes taking in your slightly flustered expression. "Of course, y/n," she replies, motioning for you to sit beside her.
As you settle in next to her, you can't help but vent your frustrations. "It's like they're all coming out of the woodwork tonight," you mutter, casting a glance towards where the other pirates are still making advances.
Nami's lips quirk into a sympathetic smile. "Well, you are quite the catch, aren't you?" she teases and winks, nudging you playfully with her elbow.
You can't help but chuckle at her comment, grateful for her light-hearted approach to the situation. "I suppose," you reply with a hint of self-deprecation. "But it's not like I'm interested in any of them."
Nami's expression softens, her gaze meeting yours with a look of understanding. "I know, sweetie," she says gently. "But sometimes it's nice to feel admired, even if it's from a distance."
You nod, grateful for Nami's insight. Despite the unwanted attention, her words offer a sense of validation that eases the tension coiling in your stomach. "Thanks, Nami," you say sincerely, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
"Anytime," Nami replies, returning the gesture with a reassuring smile. "Just remember, you've got Zoro watching over you like a hawk. No one stands a chance against that."
----
As the night wears on and the tensions grow, Zoro can't ignore the prickling sense of unease that gnaws at him.
His jealousy simmers just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of protectiveness and possessiveness that threatens to boil over at any moment.
And suddenly, it does; boils over, floods his skull, and pushes him to drastic measures.
Spotting Law and Kidd engaged in conversation across the room, Zoro's steps grow purposeful as he makes his way towards them, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger.
"Law, Kidd," Zoro's voice is low and menacing as he approaches, his gaze piercing through them with a ferocity that makes even the most seasoned pirates flinch.
Law and Kidd turn to face him, their expressions shifting from casual to wary as they take in Zoro's imposing figure.
"What do you want, Marimo?" Kidd retorts, his tone laced with defiance.
Zoro's eyes narrow dangerously, his temper flaring as he squares his shoulders. "I saw the way you were looking at her," he growls, his voice a low rumble that reverberates with barely contained fury.
Law raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "And what if we were?" he replies coolly, though a flicker of amusement dances in his eyes.
Zoro's grip tightens on the hilt of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the effort to restrain himself. "She's off-limits," he spits, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance."
Law and Kidd exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them before Law finally speaks, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of amusement. "Relax, swordsman," he says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We were just having a friendly conversation."
But Zoro isn't appeased, his anger still simmering beneath the surface as he glares at them both. "Just remember," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "She's mine."
As you remain seated with Nami, the conversation ebbs and flows between lighthearted banter and moments of quiet introspection. Despite the festive atmosphere surrounding you, a part of your mind remains preoccupied with the tension that seems to linger in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.
Nami, ever perceptive, notices the furrow in your brow and the unease that flickers in your eyes. "Is everything alright, y/n?" she asks, her voice laced with concern as she places a reassuring hand on your arm.
You offer her a small smile, grateful for her steadfast presence. "Yeah, I think so," you reply, though the uncertainty still lingers at the edges of your consciousness.
But before you can delve further into the matter, a commotion breaks out across the room, drawing your attention. You and Nami exchange a curious glance before turning to see Zoro engaged in a heated confrontation with Law and Kidd.
Concern etches itself into your features as you watch the scene unfold, the tension in the air palpable even from a distance. "What's going on?" Nami murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans in closer, her eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.
You shake your head, unsure of what has sparked the conflict but feeling a sense of urgency to intervene. "I'm not sure, but I think we should go check on them," you reply, already rising from your seat.
Nami nods in agreement, her expression mirroring your own concern as she follows suit. Together, you make your way through the crowd, weaving between revelers until you reach the center of the commotion.
As you approach Zoro standing with Law and Kidd, you notice the tension radiating from him like a palpable force. His jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed with simmering anger as he exchanges words with the other pirates.
It's a side of him you haven't seen before, raw and unfiltered, publicly displaying his love for you.
"Zoro," you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to diffuse the tension.
He glances at you, his expression still dark with irritation. "Not now," he mutters tersely, his tone leaving no room for argument.
But you aren't deterred. You know that letting his anger consume him won't solve anything. With a gentle tug on his arm, you urge him to step away from the heated exchange.
"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter," you say, your voice laced with concern.
Zoro hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the other pirates. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods and allows you to lead him away from the confrontation.
----
As you walk, you feel the tension slowly dissipating from Zoro's frame, replaced by a sense of calmness. With each step, the anger that had gripped him begins to fade, replaced by the warmth of your presence beside him.
Finally finding a secluded corner of the banquet hall, you turn to face Zoro, your eyes searching his for any lingering traces of anger. "Are you okay?"
But before Zoro can respond, he takes your hand in his with a determined grip, his expression unreadable yet intense. Without a word, he begins to lead you away from the crowded hall, his steps purposeful and unwavering.
Confusion mingles with curiosity as you follow him, your heart pounding with anticipation.
As you reach the door of the storage, you feel blood rush to your face. The two of you only ever go here for one thing.
Zoro turns to you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent yet powerful exchange. Without a word, he pushes open the door and pulls you inside, making your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
With a gentle yet urgent insistence, Zoro presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.
“Mmm!” you whimper against his lips, taken off guard by the suddenness of his advances.
There is a rawness to his touch, a primal need that leaves you breathless.
In that moment, as you lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, you realize that words are no longer necessary. Zoro's actions speak volumes, baring his emotions in a way that words never could.
As Zoro's lips trail down your neck, igniting a fiery trail of desire, you let out a low moan of pleasure.
"Fuck," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you arch into his touch, your hands tangling in his hair.
He groans against your flesh, causing goosebumps to bud all over your needy skin as he continues his fervent exploration.
In a sudden burst of intensity, Zoro's hands find the hem of your shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric with a primal need. With a swift motion, he tears the fabric away, baring your skin to his hungry gaze.
"Zoro-!" you gasp, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you feel the cool air against your exposed flesh, your heart pounding in your chest.
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a feral hunger burning within them. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice husky with longing.
“Please,” you whine, your voice a breathless plea as he trails kisses down your chest.
As Zoro's lips continue their tantalizing journey across your skin, your senses reel with desire. You allow your head to lull back, shutting your eyes and letting your mouth hang slack as you savor each and every touch.
His hardworking, calloused hands explore your body with a newfound possessiveness, and it makes you feel small; he owns you and you like it. 
With trembling hands, you reach for Zoro's shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. With practiced ease, he shrugs off the garment, revealing the defined muscles beneath.
The sight of him, bare-chested and consumed with passion, sends a thrill coursing through you. Without hesitation, you press your body against his, reveling in the heat that radiates between you.
Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all inhibitions, giving in to the primal urges that drive you both. Your hands roam freely over his taut muscles, tracing the lines of his scars as you explore every inch of him.
As your fingers dance over his scars, Zoro's breath hitches, his dark eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.
"You're mine," he murmurs huskily, his voice rough with emotion.
A shiver runs down your spine at his possessive declaration, but instead of fear, it awakens something entirely different within you. "Yours," you whisper back.
With a hungry growl, Zoro captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, possessively. 
"Never forget it," he breathes against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.
You arch into his touch, gasping as pleasure courses through your veins. "I won't," you promise, your words melting into a moan as he trails kisses along your collarbone.
Zoro's hands slide down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up with a hunger that matches the intensity of his gaze. As he exposes more of your skin, his breath catches at the sight; your trembling thighs, your wet panties. 
“All this?” he smirks, tsking, “All because I got a little possessive?”
“M-mhm,” you whine weakly, shaking beneath his touch. 
With a low growl, Zoro grips your thigh, lifting it up to press his crotch against yours. The heat of his body sends electric currents coursing through you, and you can feel the tension building with each heartbeat.
Your hands clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles beneath his skin as you pull him closer, craving more of his touch. "Zoro," you gasp his name, your voice a plea and a prayer all at once.
His lips find yours once more, claiming you with a hunger that leaves you dizzy with need. With each movement, each touch, you feel yourself surrendering completely to his dominance. 
Zoro’s calloused fingertips trail down your body to meet your slit, making you gasp softly at the sensation. 
He smirks, hooking his fingers beneath the soaked fabric and tugging it aside. 
In the same breath, he tugs his pants and boxers down, just enough to remove his cock, rock-hard and throbbing in his grasp. 
He leans forwards, the tip of his cock meeting your leaking slit with a gentle nudge. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a moan, reaching around to dig your fingernails into the muscular flesh of the swordsman’s back.
“Yeah?’ he groans smugly, pressing his lips to your neck, “Ready for me?” he questions, his words hot against your flesh. 
“Y-Yes, Zoro,” you plead, your tone coming out whinier than anticipated, “Please-” 
“Please?” he chuckles against your skin, the dark tone of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, “Please what?” he presses, continuing to guide his thick tip up and down your aching cunt. 
You abandon all dignity, the desire for him to just fuck you already overpowering any morsel of self-respect you once contained. 
“Please fuck me, Zoro,” you beg, “Show me just how much I belong to you.”
With a low, primal growl, Zoro's grip tightens on your thigh, his eyes dark with hunger as he positions himself at your entrance. 
“That’s it, good girl,” he smirks. 
Without another word, he thrusts into you with a force that steals your breath away, claiming you completely in a single, powerful motion.
“Zoro-!” you cry out, raking your nails down his back. The sudden bump of his tip to your cervix causes your head to grow fuzzy, and you pathetically attempt to stifle your moans with a shaky hand to your mouth.
With a devilish smirk, Zoro's thrusts intensify, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he hears your attempts to stifle your moans. He grabs your hand away from your mouth and pins it above your head,
"No," he growls, his voice low and commanding, "Let them hear you. Let them know who you belong to."
His words send a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you obey, letting out a loud, unabashed moan that fills the room with the sound of your pleasure. With each thrust, each gasp, you make it known to anyone within earshot that you are his. 
The sensation of him filling you completely makes your limbs go numb with pleasure, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each deep, primal thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him, lost in a haze of ecstasy.
“Fuck, Zoro,” you whine, tears of pleasure flowing down your cheeks as he pounds you into the wall.
Zoro's movements are relentless, driving you both to the edge of sanity as he takes you with a possessiveness that leaves no room for doubt. 
You continue to moan loudly for the man you have to thank for your pleasure, making him smirk and double his efforts, the rhythmic sound of your bodies slapping together hardly masking your cries. 
"That’s it,” the swordsman chuckles, “No need to be shy," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement, "Let them all know who's making you scream like that."
And as you let out another loud, unrestrained moan, Zoro leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds with a playful grin,
"After all, it's not every day they get to witness the full extent of my skills."
968 notes · View notes
galacticgraffiti · 6 months
Text
✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿
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NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI
Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV
⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆
Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.
Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3
───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────
Oh, to be Alone with You
Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.
Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.
Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well-  rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.
At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.
Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by  too many walls and a too-small bed frame.
Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.
He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-
No.
Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.
No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:
More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.
Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.
He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:
He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.
And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.
All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.
The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.
Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.
A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.
He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.
Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.
Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.
Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.
The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.
If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.
Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…
She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.
“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”
“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.
She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.
Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.
He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.
Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.
“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.
“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”
“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”
Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.
A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.
Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.
“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”
Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.
She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.
“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”
She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.
“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”
Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.
“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”
The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.
“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”
With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.
“Halsin, I-”
His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.
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I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -
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Any ideas on the Bad Boys reactions to MC dressing up for a date?
Horror isn't one for dressing up. He feels like putting nice clothes on him is like putting lipstick on a pig. But... he likes when you dress up. He really really likes it; he hovers near you, breathing heavily and intently staring at every detail. You're eye candy to him, and when you dress up you look even more sweet, colours and smells that make him the good kind of dizzy. He could stare for hours. He does stare for hours. He's fighting the urge to bite you - he's also fighting the urge to attack anyone who looks at you too long. This is HIS pretty little human, anyone who gawks is losing their eyes.
Dust is normally such a tough nut to crack reaction-wise. It's always hard to tell what he thinks of things. His reactions are entirely internal, as minute as minute can get; unless you're like Nightmare and can literally read his emotions, it's very hard to know what's going on in his head. That being said. When he sees that you dressed up for a date with him? He blushes very hard. He looks away, flustered, pulling his hood down over his face - for a moment there's a break in the seemingly endless clouds of his mood, and the sky is visible.
Although he acts like he's embarrassed, he really likes when you tease him about blushing. He doesn't always enjoy being so blank, so hard to read it drives away people he deeply cares for. It makes him feel better when you get little victories like that, moments where you 'broke' him; little reminders of how much he really loves you.
Killer, as mentioned in a previous ask, would delight in a partner who dresses up. He has a lot of fun putting together fashionable (slutty) outfits, and if you have something very nice for a date, he's absolutely going to coordinate with you. It's the perfect way to tell the world that you're together. Who needs bite marks? Give him a colour palette, some simple accessories, and half an hour. Everyone will see who you belong to.
Nightmare would love it. He might not say it aloud, but you'll see it in the way his eyelight rakes up and down your body and his voice gets significantly silkier. He sees you dressing up for a date as a high compliment; you thought about your date with him so much you decided to put in that extra effort. He doesn't get many gifts - all this is for him? You shouldn't have...
You'd expect him to want his partner to dress similarly to him. Though he does take great pleasure in you matching his refined tastes, he also just likes seeing you wear things that make you happy. Of course his beloved consort should wear whatever they please. You're his, and that makes you royalty. Royalty do what they like.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — oh baby ! + katsuki bakugou.
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff, suggestive but no smut, minors dni, mentions of trying for a baby, love-sick!bakugou can’t resist your baby fever.
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“if we had a baby, what would you name it?”
bakugou peers at you from over his phone, dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead while he frowns lightly. the pair of you are lounging about on a colder afternoon, him on his back on the couch— shirt riding up a little — and you between his legs and lying on his tummy.
“we’re not having a baby—“ he can tell by your sharp in-take of breath and the pout that ensues that he’s fucked up— quick to lock his phone with a click of the power button before grabbing the roundness of your face between his rough fingers, holding you with care. “yet. we’re not havin’ one yet.”
the smile that returns to your face is almost instantaneous— gleaming like a higher being has struck stars and galaxies into your eyes and magic into your grin. “why not?” you ask, cheekily licking katsuki’s hand now that you’ve got his attention.
“‘cause you’re my baby. don’t need’a ‘nother one to take care of while you’re around.” the blonde grimaces at the trail of saliva you leave against his palm— groaning in disgust as he wipes it on your shirt (the one that he lent you) as if he doesn’t enjoy watching you slobber all over his fingers during your nightly round in the sheets. “babies drool. you keep fuckin’ droolin’ on me. can’t deal with two people droolin’ on me—“
“would you want one? a baby?”
he’s still in the middle of complaining when you ask, your voice wistful like you’ve been daydreaming and you draw heart shapes on the patch of bakugou’s skin that’s been exposed by his tank top riding up.
“what’s gotten into you? talkin’ about babies ‘n shit…you sneakin’ off to see those todoroki triplets again?”
“it was the midoriyas this time…and i’m serious!” you swat at his chest, a little less gentle and a ripple of love shoots through katsuki at the sound of your angelic laughter. “don’t you think we’re ready, kats? i mean we’d both be great parents…”
he sits up a little, ruby red eyes narrowed into slits, head full of straw blonde hair tilted in curiosity. you can’t help but wonder what your kids would look like with a mix of your genetics. “you seriously want a kid?” bakugou says quietly, inquisitively, cautiously— scared to spook you as if you’re a deer in headlights.
you nod.
you’d want that…with him? “why?”
“‘cause i think…now would be a good time?” ringing your fingers, you toy with stray strings of your clothes and the fabric on katsuki’s, heat rushing to your face. “i mean…you’re set to take over best jeanist’s agency and my career with hawks is going great. we’re well off, married, your mom won’t stop bugging me about grand-babies—“
“don’t bring my ma into this, she don’t exactly inspire fuckin’ you so that we can make a baby—“
“— and i want to. start a family. with you…i want a family of baby katsuki’s and baby me’s running around and clambering onto you when you get home from patrol.” there’s that tone again, dreamy and excited— your face glowing with the possibilities of parenthood. “sometimes i imagine what our cosy Saturday’s would be like, little ones curled up on the couch with me while you make us breakfast. i can’t help but wonder how happy we’d be…i want a baby with you, katsuki.”
silence filters through the room, sunlight fluttering your skin and filling the room with love along with warmth as bakugou weighs up the choice. “if we’re having a baby, we’re naming it somethin’ with meaning.” he mumbled after sometime, looking away from you with a blush.
katsuki still can’t quite wrap his head around how much you love and want a future with him.
“like, katsuko? it means victorious child.” you suggest as if you’d been thinking of the name for your child the entire time.
it rolls off your tongue smoothly, like butter, similar to katsuki’s own first name— it too having a strong meaning. you’d really wanted this with him, dreamed up a whole life with your husband and future baby.
“katsuko. that’s a good one, i like that name.” the blonde grins, sitting up fully as he tugs you into his lap with a slow and steady smile. “close to mine, no doubt the kid’ll be a winner like you.”
“so you want one, a baby. with me?” you giggle, mirroring his expression while bakugou’s rough hands slip under your shirt to squeeze at your ass, pinch at your curves— hunger brewing hotly between you both.
“yeah, now roll over. if we wanna bring katsuko into the world we gotta start baby makin’ somehow…”
“katsuki!”
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marvelouslizzie · 10 months
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"Not a study date"
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Summary: You have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes but despite all your efforts, he doesn’t seem to notice you. Can one study date change it all?
Pairing: College Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, idiots in love, study date, misunderstandings, jealousy, language, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected sex, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 6.4K
A/N: I really wanted to write a College!Bucky Barnes story and this is it. It’s full of foolishness, miscommunication, and jealousy with a happy ending. This means it’s basically smut with a little bit of plot. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please give some kind of feedback. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.
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Nothing seems to change whenever you visit your best friend's ex-boyfriend Sam Wilson. That sounds weird every time you remember Michelle dated him but things are just fine between them since it was Michelle who just decided to change schools and they ended things on friendly terms. He’s a good friend and really fun to play games with since he’s a sore loser but most importantly he’s your only connection to Bucky Barnes. 
God, that sounds so wrong. Like you are only friends with him just to be closer to Bucky, that’s definitely not the case but you can’t deny Bucky is one of the reasons you are visiting him so often. You like that Bucky secretly watches you two while you are playing games and celebrates your every victory. You know he just loves to annoy Sam but it makes you so happy every time he joins your efforts to brag about winning but that’s mostly it. 
You tried really hard to find some common interests with Bucky so you two can chat. He likes games, he loves reading books and you have a couple of classes together. You have a lot of things in common but nothing sticks for long when you are trying to have a conversation with him. You are not sure if it’s because he’s totally uninterested in you or you are just horrible at flirting. This doesn’t stop you from trying though. 
That’s why you are at Sam and Bucky’s place. Once again you found a reason to stop by and maybe because he has had enough of you, Bucky makes a comment that you did not expect.
“I’m starting to think you have a crush on Sam.”
“What?” The shock you feel is so hard to explain. You how no idea how surprised you sound.
“Well, you are here nearly every day.” Bucky tries to explain his thought process, already sounding awkward because of your reaction.
“Eww, no.” 
“What do you mean eww no?” Sam sounds offended.
“You are my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”
“And?”
“What do you mean and?” God, does Sam thinks that way, too? You thought you two had an understanding. “You dated my best friend. You are like a brother to me. Of course, I’m gonna say eww.”
“Oh, some kind of girl's code, huh?” Bucky somehow sounds relieved but you don’t notice it’s because of your response.
“Great answer, bub. I was testing you.” Sam’s offended tone instantly disappears.
“Were you?” Bucky questions him before you can. “You sounded really offended to me.”
“Part of my talent.”
The conversation quickly changes into something else but Bucky’s observation sticks with you. Bucky thinking you might have feelings for Sam leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are here to see him, day after day, and all this time he thought you just came to see Sam. Either he’s blind or you are just not good at showing your intentions. And then there’s a third option that you don’t even wanna think about: He noticed exactly who you are here for and decided to ignore it so he doesn’t have to reject you. Either way, it hurts. 
You consider canceling your study session with Bucky. It’s just gonna be awkward to sit next to him and try to focus on the notes. Plus, you are sure studying alone will be more efficient. No distractions at all.
“About our studying session…” You start to speak before leaving with the intention to cancel your plans.
“Oh yeah, you are still coming, right?” Bucky’s whole face lights up. It’s hard not to see it. He seems excited. “I convinced Faye to share her notes with me. You know how great her notes are. It’s already guaranteed that we will get an amazing score.”
Oh, that’s why he’s excited. Because he used his charm and managed to convince Faye to share her notes. She doesn’t do that often, if ever. She knows how precious her notes are and he’s right. That is literally your golden ticket to get a great score. 
“I was gonna ask if you still want to study together.”
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He sounds confused.
“I don’t know.” You sound unsure. “Maybe you are tired of me since I’m always around.”
“Oh, come on! I was just joking.” He quickly responds. “You always come here to spend time with Sam. We never hang out just the two of us.”
He’s right. He always stays away from you. Only making comments from far away. Maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign.
“This is not hanging out, either. It’s just studying together.” 
He shrugs and you miss the disappointed expression that passes his face.
“Just come, okay? I promise it will be worth it.”
“Ugh, I’m glad I won’t be here. You two are insufferable. It’s just a study date. No big deal.” Sam can’t help but comment on your conversation.
“It’s not a date.” You and Bucky say at the same time. You look at him, feeling disappointed but try to hide it as much as you can.
“Whatever you say,” Sam raises both of his hands in defense but doesn’t seem like he believed you.
*
This was definitely a bad idea. It’s been a while since you two started studying and you did not understand a word. Not because Faye’s notes are bad. Nope, they are perfect but you can’t seem to focus on the words. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky’s smell. You try really hard not to check him out and it’s relatively easier since he’s sitting close to you but his smell… God, that’s so distracting. You have no idea what exactly it is. It seems like a mix of his own smell, the perfume he uses, and a bit of a sweat. You should be disgusted by the thought of sweat but all you want to do is get closer to him.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This is just a silly crush, nothing more. You can just focus on the notes and learn something useful before the exam. You can do that, right? While you try to read the same sentence for the 19th time, Bucky takes his phone and starts to type something. The idea of him texting someone else while studying with you is so irritating but there’s nothing you can do about it. This is just a stupid study session for him. You push your chair to the back, thinking about getting a glass of water.
“I’m gonna get-” When you notice the awkward expression on Bucky’s face you stop talking. Before he can cover it, you notice the reason he’s looking so uncomfortable. His erection is impossible to hide in those gray shorts he’s wearing. 
“It’s not what you think.” He immediately responds while trying to hide his erection but there’s no way he can tuck it in while you are staring at him.
“Are you really sexting with someone while we are studying?” That’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you can’t keep that thought to yourself. 
“What? No!”
“I mean… it’s alright. You can see or talk to whoever you want but…” It’s so hard to collect your thoughts and turn them into meaningful sentences while your mind is running miles in seconds. It feels so humiliating and not because of the erection. The thought of him sexting someone right next to you… while you tried to get his attention all this time… It just stings.
“What the fuck?” He sounds completely shocked. “I’m not sexting anyone. Why would you even think that?”
“Why else would you get an erection in the middle of studying?” You really can’t think of any other possibilities. Plus he’s still holding his phone. “It’s fine.”
He says your name in a way he never did before. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not sexting with anyone. I texted Sam and then I was googling a word I saw in Faye’s notes because I have no idea what it means and I thought it would help me calm down.”
“Oh.” That’s completely unexpected. Then why did he get an erection out of the blue?
“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. God! It’s so embarrassing.” His words don’t make sense to you. What is he trying to say?
“Find out about what?” You try to understand him. “That you get erections?”
“What? No.” Then what did he mean? “I didn’t want you to find out… about my feelings… like this.” He sounds so nervous, even more nervous than you are feeling.
“For me?” The question comes instantly because there is no way that’s what he meant.
“Of course for you. Who else?” 
“Wait, wait, wait.” You finally put two and two together. “You just got an erection, because of me?”
“Ihm…” You can’t help but notice how awkward he sounds. “Yeah… I’m really sorry. I’m so ashamed.” He covers his face with both of his hands for a second. Then he continues. “I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not a creep. You just smell… so good.”
“You just got an erection because you have feelings for me?” You are sounding like a stuck record at this point but you can’t believe he really said that.
“Yeah. I was planning to ask you out, tonight. That’s why I was texting Sam but… instead… I made a fool of myself.” The panic in tone is so evident. Your eyes go back to his still-obvious erection. “I’m normally not like this. I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”
“Do you want me to help you with that?” You ask without taking your eyes off the outline of his erection.
“What?”
“Since you got hard because of me, I’m offering help.” You slowly close the distance between you two.
“That’s not… necessary.” He gulps. “It will go away in a few minutes.”
You have no idea where this wave of confidence comes from. Maybe because he just told you he wanted to ask you out or maybe because the smell of you gave him a hard-on. You just find yourself gently palming his erection over his shorts and he instantly takes a sharp breath.
“What if… I don’t want it to go away?”
“You’re not… you’re not offended?”
“You are not a random creep out in the street, Bucky. I know you. I like you. Why would I be offended?”
“Wait, you like me?” He sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah.” You keep gently rubbing him. He doesn’t take a step back or try to stop you. His eyelashes flutter like he’s enjoying the sensation. “Why do you think I was visiting Sam so often?”
“Not because you have a crush on him?” He asks with a smile.
“Nope, because I have a crush on you.”
“You… have… a crush on me?” It feels like in the span of a couple of minutes, you two changed roles and it’s his turn to feel surprised by your words.
“Yeah. For a while.”
“I guess Sam was right.” 
“Was he?” You ask while you move your head closer. “About what?”
“He said you like me and I’m too blind to notice it.”
“Hmm… Even he noticed it, huh? I guess he is right.” Bucky looks at your lips while you are talking. You can see the idea of kissing you forming in his head.
“Can I…” He sounds like he isn’t sure, yet he tries one more time. “Can I kiss you?”
“My hand is on your hard cock, right now. What do you think?” Your response gives him a huge grin.
“I still wanna hear you say it.”
“Yes, you can kiss me, Bucky.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips instantly crush on yours, like a thirsty man who finally found a glass of cold water. His lips move fast against yours until you rub on his cock again. It makes him gasp in the middle of the kiss, and the rhythm is lost. You feel how painfully hard he is under your touch. You don’t know if it is your effect or it’s because it has been a while for him. You would like to know, but you don’t want to ask. Instead, your hands move to the waistband of his shorts. You look directly into his eyes, silently asking for permission. He just gulps and then blinks. 
You always thought he was just distant when it comes to you, but you finally realize it was actually Bucky’s shyness. He gets flushed under your touch, struggling to find the right words. He communicates through his body language, but you want to change that a little. You want him to be vocal if you are gonna have sex. That’s when the idea of sucking him off comes to you. Unexpectedly, you kneel and gently push his shorts and boxers down while he watches you with big eyes. There’s no fear or worry behind those eyes. You see how excited but reserved he is. You want to show him there’s nothing to worry about. While directly looking at him, you start to stroke him. His cock is so close to your face, but you don’t make a move, you only move your hand up and down on his shaft slowly. His breathing shutters under your touch, but he says nothing. He just watches you.
“Is this okay?” You ask, already knowing it is. You just want him to talk. You wanna hear his voice.
“Ye-yeah.” He sounds so breathy. You start to twist your wrist a little, just to change the sensation.
“What about this?” He takes a deep breath.
“So good.” 
Maybe he isn’t a talker during sex. That’s fine, but you don’t want to give up that quickly. So this time, you sit on your knees and take him inside your mouth without any warning.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” His reaction makes you want to smile so widely, but your mouth is full of him. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Why? Don’t you like it?” You ask while pumping him with your hand.
“Just warn me, so I don’t embarrass myself.”
“Embarrass yourself how?” Your question catches him off guard. “I wanna hear those reactions. Don't hold back!” 
He just nods like a good boy, and that makes you smile. You don’t say anything, though. You just take him back into your mouth. This time, he lets out a moan. Your tongue moves around the head of his cock, swirling over and over again until he whines. He literally whines under your tongue and that makes you feel like you won a prize. It doesn’t take him long to grab your hair. He doesn’t try to control your movement or push you. It just feels like he’s trying to find something to hold on to.
You pace up a little, moving your head up and down on his cock while gently massaging his balls. That does it. First, you hear a loud moan that sounds like choking, then before he could even utter a word, the first shot of his come hits the back of your throat. You keep going until he empties himself. While you move away from him, you see his eyes are still closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them just in time to catch you swallowing.
“Oh my fucking god…” He sounds like he can’t believe what he is witnessing. You wonder if no one has ever done this in front of him before.
“How are you feeling now?” Your voice is much calmer than you expect. 
“So good. You have no idea.”
“I might have a little bit of an idea.” You smile while standing up. The hard floor tired your knees so you rub both of them.
“That was just amazing.” For some reason, he sounds younger and inexperienced at this moment. Like this was his first blowjob ever but you know that’s not the case. You heard a couple of stories from Sam, and you know this isn’t Bucky’s first rodeo. Yet, he sounds so affected by you. That directly goes to your ego.
You sit back down on your chair, not knowing what to do next, but it doesn’t take you long to realize Bucky does. He’s already getting on his knees while you give him a confused look.
“You know, that’s not necessary, right?”
“I know.”
“You don’t need to return the favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to.” You have no idea why you are discouraging him to do whatever he is planning on doing. You want to see what he wants, yet you don’t want him to feel obliged or anything.
“And now I am doing this because I want to.” 
He puts his hands on both of your legs, gently pushing them apart. You didn’t realize how turned on you are until this moment. Your focus was completely on him, wanting to make him feel good and you forgot about yourself. You didn’t even realize how wet you are. Carefully, he moves into the space between your legs and pushes your skirt up. His fingers graze over your covered pussy, and you are sure he can actually feel your wetness through the fabric.
“Can I take it off?” God, why does he sound so shy while asking that? And why does it turn you on even more?
“Are you gonna ask my permission for every single move?”
“Do you not want me to?”
“I like it, but you don’t have to ask everything. Not after coming inside my mouth.” You smile after finishing your sentence and you watch how flushed he gets, but you see that he understands what you mean. His hands reach for your underwear and take it off pretty quickly like he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t touch your skirt, simply gets under it. That’s why you can’t see the first time he licks you. Immediately you move your skirt up to your waist and here he is, buried between your legs. He hungrily eats you out, his long licks sending shivers down your spine. 
“Oh my god!” 
Your reaction makes him look up for the first time. That flushed expression turned into pure hunger. His blue eyes watch every mimic you make while he starts to suck your clit. He definitely started strong, but you can’t complain, especially when you are this soaked. You didn’t even realize you pushed your legs together and trapped him between them until he gently pushed them apart.
“Oh, sorry.” You quickly say, but he doesn’t seem to care. He licks, he sucks, and does everything in his power to crumble under his touch. It’s so intense that you can’t think of anything other than the way he makes you feel. You don’t even notice how quickly your first orgasm hits you. It’s hard and fast. You can’t keep your voice down. No, you moan his name so loudly. If he didn’t come a couple of minutes ago, the way you said his name over and over again would get him hard again. Even with that in mind, he could feel the blood rushing to his dick, yet he keeps licking you until you push his head away.
“That’s… that’s enough.” It’s hard to breathe normally. You really didn’t expect to come this hard. The orgasm is still running through your whole body. 
“Sensitive?” His voice is low yet sweet.
“Yeah, a little.” You take a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”
He does that, but instead of moving away, he puts his head on your leg. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you look at him. He is so pretty like this, looking up to you with big blue eyes and a wet mouth. 
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t expect to come this hard.”
“Well…” You watch a big grin spreading on his lips. “Welcome to my world. I didn’t expect to come without a warning either.”
“That good?”
“Oh, yeah. That good.” He quickly agrees. “Sorry about that though.”
“Sorry about what?” You really have no idea what he means.
“Sorry about coming without warning.”
“Oh. That’s fine.” You stop for a second. “Sorry about giving you a hard-on.”
“The most embarrassing and the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”
“Hmm… How so?” You fish for more.
“I don’t… You know… Go around getting hard-ons randomly.”
“Really? I thought that happened a lot to men.” 
“Not like this. Waking up with morning wood? Yeah. That happens, but getting an erection in the middle of studying? That’s a first.”
“Happy to have a first in your life.”
“I never came like this without a warning either.”
“Two firsts.” You don’t realize how smug you sound, but he does.
“What about you?”
“I don’t think I have ever come this hard without… you know… something inside me.”
“Is that so?” The way he smiles just makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You like to have something inside?”
“If they know… how to use it.”
“Let’s give it a try, shall we?” 
He moves his head away from your right leg, repositioning himself, and before you could say anything, his mouth is on you again. His tongue is gentle, testing the waters to see if you are still sensitive, but honestly, you are not. You just want him to move a little faster. You don’t say it though. You want to see what he is planning. He keeps on licking you for a while, making sure you are ready for his fingers and when he decides that you are, he slowly pushes his index finger inside. You moan in response.
“Does it feel good?” He takes his mouth off your clit for a second to ask.
“Yeah. It feels so good!” You can feel what he is trying to do. He’s building up your pleasure so slowly, you know it’s going to be explosive at the end. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of you while watching your expressions. 
“Do you want the second one or…” You don’t let him finish his question. 
“I want the second one.”
Your response makes him smile again. You are not sure what makes him happier: your eagerness or your openness. It does seem like he isn’t used to getting direct feedback, but he thrives on it. Quickly, he adds the second finger inside and you can’t help but notice how his thick fingers are filling you. It’s such a delicious feeling. You are so lost in it, you don’t realize how he leans back into your pussy. He nibbles your clit carefully while moving his finger at a steady pace. You can’t help but think he knows what he’s doing and he’s good at reading your reactions. He notices you react more when he licks instead of sucks, so he quickly switches back to it.
“Oh, fuck!” You love how his tongue feels against your skin. Your hands find his hair, pulling it gently just to ground yourself. You feel him moan against your clit when you tug on his hair. The idea of him enjoying it somehow turns you on even more. You decide to test it and pull his hair a little bit more when you feel like doing it. His loud moan vibrates on your swollen clit. It’s like he can’t get enough of it.
“Someone likes a bit of pain.” 
He pulls away from your pussy for a second. When he looks at you, you can see how turned on he is. The hunger is evident in his eyes. 
“Someone likes being full.”
“I’m not full, yet.” You aren’t trying to tease him, that’s the truth yet you can see that sounds like a promise to him. The promise of taking a lot more than just two fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He just goes back to licking and pumping his fingers. The only difference is he’s moving a lot faster than before and you aren’t sure how long you can take this before your orgasm comes back to crush you. It’s overwhelming yet not enough. You don’t realize how your body arches before you start to lose yourself in that pleasure.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words come out involuntarily. “Don’t stop, Bucky. Please. So good. So fucking good.”
He keeps going, keeping that same pace. He wants to encourage you and talk to you, but his mouth is busy giving you pleasure. Hearing you moaning and begging is enough for now.
“Oh, god.” Your whole body starts to shake. It’s like your whole body is electrified. “Yes, yes, yes, Bucky. God, I love your mouth so much.”
He smiles against your clit but doesn’t break the contact. He didn’t think you would be this vocal, but he’s enjoying every second of it.
“Ahh, fuck, ahhh yes.” You moan out while shaking. You have no idea how long this orgasm lasts, but you feel so good. As your shaking starts to slow down, Bucky starts to move slower to match that.
“Mmm.” You knew sex with Bucky would be good but this is definitely how you imagined it. Finally, he moves his mouth away from you when he realizes your orgasm is done. You feel so boneless, so relieved.
“Are you okay?” His question brings you back to reality and you notice your eyes are closed. You open them back up and meet his gaze.
“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” He smiles so proudly.
“Glad to hear that.”
“You have no idea how tired yet relaxed I am feeling right now.”
“Not too tired I hope.” That surprises you.
“Why is that?”
“I thought you wanted to be full.” Then you see his erection. It’s actually impossible not to see how painfully hard he is even though he already came once.
“You want to…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You thought you would be done after this. You never had someone who wanted you like this before. The feeling settles into your chest. He wants you. He still wants you that bad after coming so hard. It makes you feel seen and desired.
“Unless you don’t want to…”
“Oh, I do.” Your response is instant. You really do. Even after two orgasms, you feel like you want more. You imagined riding his dick or him bending you over and fucking you hard so many times. You want to know how it really feels. 
“Good.” He stands up, and when his erection is on your eye level, you can’t help but stare. Not every dick is aesthetically pleasing. Some don’t even look like they would feel good, but Bucky… Bucky’s dick waters your mouth like you didn’t already give him a blowjob. You need it inside of you. While you are lost in thoughts, Bucky picks you up from your chair. You let out a small yelp while he offers you a warm smile.
“Just carrying you to the bedroom, doll.”
“Doll?” You never heard him use that nickname before.
“Yeah, you are a pretty little doll. So beautiful and so smart. Very eager and loud.”
You don’t know how to react. A lot of praises combined with stuff that makes you wanna question him more.
“Am I that loud?” You can’t help but ask.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my neighbors hate us right now.”
“Oh god.” You feel your cheeks getting red, but he doesn’t seem concerned.
“Don’t let that stop you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel, doll.” He gently puts you on top of the bed. 
“Doll.” You repeat, without an implied question mark. 
“If you don’t like it…”
“I do. I really do.” You want to be his pretty little doll and your reaction makes him smile again. “It’s just new. I never heard you say it.”
“Because it is only for you.” Those words cause different a kind of warmth to spread through your chest.
You watch him open the drawer and pull out a condom. He rips the package off impatiently and puts it on with haste. Seeing how impatient he is makes you giggle and that makes him look back at you.
“What’s so funny?”
“Someone is eager to be inside me.”
“Aren’t you eager to feel my cock inside you?” His words take you by surprise. What happened to that shy boy who couldn’t find the word to tell you what he wants? Your shocked look makes him worry a little. He’s afraid that he crossed some kind of line.
“Fuck, that was hot.” Your words sweep away his fear.
“You like that?” He asks while closing the distance between you. “You like when I say dirty stuff like that?”
“Yeah. I love it.”
“You wanna hear how good you are for me?” You didn’t expect that question at all. He moves closer to you, forcing you to lie down. He positions himself between your legs. “Because you are so good for me.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing. You really need him inside you, and he doesn’t waste any time. He knows you are as impatient as he is. He slowly pushes his cock inside, taking his time and being gentle. He moves back and then forth until he’s balls deep inside you and you can’t hold back that loud moan. It just feels so good to be full.
“Shit.” You throw your head back. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso. He leans down and gives you a long kiss, taking his sweet time so you can get used to the feeling of him. Then he starts to move slowly while his mouth moves to your neck, gently sucking on your skin. It feels great, but somehow it’s not enough. So you start to move your hips with him, matching his rhythm but creating more friction.
“You want more already?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, more like he’s amused.
“Yeah. I need it harder.”
“Harder.” He repeats. “My doll needs it harder.”
Before you can say anything, he moves away from you. A loud whine leaves your lips. You don’t like that feeling of emptiness. You want to protest, but he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He pushes your legs up and repositions himself between your legs. Then without saying a word, he gets inside you again.
“Holy fuck.” Your reaction comes out instantly. It feels so different, even more full. Then he starts to move, a little harder than before. Even though he isn’t using much force, because of the angle, it feels much better.
“Is it hard enough for you?” He sounds cheeky. 
“Yes, for now.”
“For now.” He repeats your words. “For now is good because we are just starting.”
You would love to say something back, but it feels too good. The only thing you can do is moan. With every moan you let out, he moves a little bit faster, he grows a little bit more impatient. He pays attention to what makes you moan more, which movement makes you lose yourself, and tries to repeat them. The room is filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and how wet you are. Combined with your moans, he starts to lose control and move faster than before. That triggers more moans out of you. It turns into a vicious cycle until you are panting and begging.
“Please, please, please…” You can already taste your orgasm. It’s that close.
“Please what? Tell me what you need.”
“More… I need more.”
“Be more specific, doll. More of what?” That nickname sends a jolt of electricity through your body. “Do you want me to rub your clit?”
“No, no.” That’s not what you need. “I need you to move faster.”
“If I move faster… I won’t be able to hold back.”
“Don’t hold back.” You say while taking deep breaths. “Let’s come together.”
“Are you sure? It won’t last that long.”
“Try to hold back until I say let go.” You really want to come at the same time.
“I’m not sure if that will work.”
“You can stop anytime if you feel like you are about to come before me. That’s okay.”
“But what about…” You don’t let him finish.
“We can build my orgasm back up. It’s there, I can feel it. Just move as fast as you can and try to hold back. You can let go when I start coming, okay?”
He nods, but you see he’s not fully convinced. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.
“It’s okay if you come before me. Not the end of the world.”
“I don’t… I don’t wanna let you down.” The vulnerability is so evident in his voice.
“You can never let me down. I don’t care if you come early. I will take it as a compliment.”
Your words make him smile a little. His hesitation is still there, but the urge to please you outweighs his worries. He leans down and kisses you in response. Long and full of love. You realize how much your words mean to him just with that kiss. When he pulls back, he starts to move again. He returns to his previous pace and starts to go faster bit by bit. You can feel that familiar feeling of approaching orgasm again. It’s slowly building up, but when you look at Bucky’s face, you notice he’s closer than you are. You need to get there a little faster. That’s why your fingers quickly find your clit and start to rub. When he notices what you are doing, he groans. His hips start to move so fast, you can’t help but scream. Your fingers combined with his fast pace finally push you over that edge.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.” You repeat without thinking and he knows what that means. He can finally let go. His hands grab your waist, getting that support he needs to fuck you into the mattress. The way he moves makes you see the stars. 
“Fuck, doll, I’m coming too!” Your mouth opens for a silent scream while he starts to come. The way he moans and groans fills you with pleasure, knowing you are the reason behind all of that. “Oh, god.” He keeps moving even though he’s done. He wants you to enjoy your orgasm till the last drop and you do. You let yourself thrive on every last bit of that amazing feeling. 
He finally stops moving when he realizes you are done. He gently pulls himself out of you, making you whine a little, and lays right next to you. You turn to your side, facing him while still trying to calm your breathing down.
“You just ruined me,” he suddenly says.
“I ruined you? I think it’s the other way around, mister.” He’s the one who gave you three mind-blowing orgasms and he has the audacity to say this. 
“I don’t think you understand.” He sounds calm yet sure. “Sex never felt this amazing before.”
His words make you giggle a little but you are aware he’s right. It never felt this good before him and there’s no way you can go back.
“You are a thief.”
“Me? A thief?” Your words catch him off guard.
“Yep, you are stealing my thoughts and presenting them as yours.” 
“So it was that good for you too?”
“My mind is blown. You have no idea.” That gives him the biggest grin. 
“Does that mean you will let me take you on a date?”
“What date?” You play dumb. You know exactly what he means but you want him to actually ask. 
“You know what date.”
“Nope, I don’t. I haven’t been asked on a date for ages.”
He grabs your hand and looks directly into your eyes. “Will you go on a date with me, doll?”
“Of course, I will, with pleasure.” And that makes him laugh.
“Yep, a lot of pleasure.”
“Shit!” You suddenly jump.
“What?” He sounds so worried.
“Our exam!” You completely forgot about it. “We were supposed to study!”
“We still have time.” He tries to calm you down. “Just lie down a little until you catch your breath. We have Faye’s notes, remember? It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
“Oh, yeah.” You remember Faye’s notes. It suddenly changes your mood.
“Are you okay?” He immediately notices. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. We are lucky we have her notes.” You try not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. He sees right through it.
“Remind me to thank her tomorrow.” You feel the jealousy build up inside you because you know it doesn’t matter how much you beg, Faye never shares her notes, and Bucky managing to convince her could mean only one thing.
“Yeah, I should thank her too.”
“You definitely should.” He watches how your expression changes after his words and his smile grows.
“What are you smiling for?”
“Nothing. I just love seeing you get jealous for nothing.”
“I’m not jealous!”
“Sure, that’s why you look like you wanna stab her a couple of times.”
“No, I don’t.” You deny it at first, but you can see he doesn’t believe you. “I just… know that she doesn’t share her notes with anyone. She must have a crush on you. Which is understandable.”
“Is it?” He’s still smiling like a fool.
“Are you seriously enjoying this?” You are getting so angry that you try to move away from the bed but Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Let me go!”
“There’s nothing to get jealous about, doll.” He sees you don’t believe him. “I only have eyes for you and that’s what I said to Faye to convince her to give me her notes.”
“What?”
“I told her I want to ask you out, but I wanna impress you with this study date first. She thought it was a great idea and shared her notes with me.”
“I thought this wasn’t a study date.” You remember him denying it was.
“Well, after everything that happened…” He gives you a look that screams sex. “I think we can finally call it a study date.” Those words give you the biggest grin.
“Can we have more study dates like this?”
“Anytime you want, doll. I’m at your service.”
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inumaaaki · 1 year
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« i will continue to love you in every timeline. »
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SUKUNA SAVING YOUR LIFE
synopsis: this is based on this random thought.
a/n: this was way harder than i thought it'd be. and it took so much longer than i planned. (i even worked on it during my lectures i just couldn't get it OUT OF MY MIND). anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!!
the curse had come out of nowhere.
you'd been celebrating your victory of successfully eliminating the threat of the grade one curse with your classmates, when all of a sudden, an overwhelming surge of energy knocked the four of you to the ground.
it didn't take long for you to find yourself trapped in the special curse's domain, unable to move due to the sheer pressure of its presence. and it took even less for the three of you to become on the verge of exhaustion, able to barely fight by just for your survival.
"(y/n)! fall back!" you can barely make out megumi's urgent voice before the attack is sent your way, hitting you square in the spine.
the breath is knocked out of your lungs, your mouth opening in a silent scream. unbearable heat and discomfort surges through your bones, incapacitating you.
your hands are trembling, your vision is blurry. around you, the whole world is muffled, like a pillow settling over your five senses. the world is tinted red, and oh? was that a pool of blood increasing in volume with each passing moment?
you struggle to stand up, using whatever strength in your hands to raise yourself up, to keep fighting. if you fall that means you had failed your friends. nobara was already lying unconscious, yuuji and megumi ganging up against the special grade curse.
with shaking legs, you struggle to stand, to balance yourself. but you finally raise your head, bringing your crossed fingers in front of your temple, gathering all your strength into this finally attack.
you accumulate enough cursed energy, feeling your whole body draining, until all at once you release it, and it unleashes stronger than any attack you had ever made.
you were sure, this would hurt the curse badly, enough to create an opening for your friends to finish it off. you and the boys watch it as it finally reaches the curse, the force wave washing over it, you can see yuuji gathering his black flash, ready to take it down—
the curse stands still as the attack washes over it, it sets aflame, and you hear its terrible pained screeches. relief washes over you, the ghost of a smile making its way into your face.
until the flames die out all at once, and the curse slowly, almost comically, turns around. it's previous mocking face was all but gone now. replaced by an ugly frown, it looks angry. and it was looking straight at you.
your eyes widen, hands shaking in disbelief. you can't control the exhaustion as the aftermath washes over you, can't control your trembling lips as you finally collapse.
and then the fear, because you know it's making its way towards you, you know megumi and yuuji won't have time to hold it back. and you really don't want to die, not this soon. you have to move out of its way, but you're on your knees, watching helplessly as it dashes towards you.
unbeknownst to you, at that same moment, excruciating pain surges through yuuji's head. his hands fly up to clutch at his temples as he doubles over.
"get yourself together, we have to help (y/n)!" megumi yells but he knows it's no use, the curse had already crossed half the distance, it was going to get her, and only yuuji's supernatural strength is on par with its own, but he was busy having a migraine—
"he wants to come out!" yuuji finally yells, and in the next instant the all-familiar black tattoos slowly appear on his skin.
he begins growing in size as sukuna takes over his body. megumi couldnt believe his eyes. he had to help (y/n), why the hell did sukuna make an appearance at a time like this? he grits his teeth, taking his defensive stance, but sukuna doesn’t even glance at him.
he dashes towards (y/n), and megumi would have never believed it had he not seen it with his own eyes, but he stands between (y/n) and the curse.
with one swish of his claws the special curse they had almost been killed by is split in half.
there's rage in sukuna's face, rage that freezes megumi on his spot. a manic glint in his eyes as he pounces on the curse and rips it to shreds, even when it is clearly dead.
and when he’s done with it, as he turns around and kneels before you, that rage is nowhere to be seen.
instead, you are sitting there on your knees as you watch it unfold, certain that once the king of curses turns around, you were the one about to be ripped into pieces.
instead he's kneeling in front of you, a conflicted, almost gentle look on his usually demonic features as his large hand reaches out to you, before he stops mid-way.
and you realize with a jolt, that the great curse before you is hesitating.
you feel your heart beating wildly against your chest. you are afraid, very much so. he was so big, so animalistic. with his outstretched claws, his four eyes and his sharp fangs when he opened his mouth only to close it again.
suddenly you feel the tears running down your cheeks, and his eyes soften at the sight.
he isn't hesitant anymore when his hands, with the sheer strength you knew he possessed, wipe away at your tears so gently, so softly, cradling your face as if you were made of glass.
and when he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead, you refuse to believe this is reality.
when he pulls away, its yuuji facing you with an incredulous look on his face. and you realize with another jolt, that with his kiss, sukuna had healed all your wounds.
you're left speechless, staring into the eyes of your pink-haired friend as if he had suddenly grown another head. he looks back at you with the same look.
***
a week has passed.
you were growing impatient, but you were also scared.
impatient because yuuji was banned from seeing anyone after his latest 'slip-up'. scared because even though you wanted an explanation for what happened, you feared what it could mean.
however, you should've known better than to assume this presumed ban would last any longer. it took only for gojo-sensei to burst into your room for you to understand his intentions.
"wanna go see sukuna-kun?"
you flush at his insinuation. to be fair, you preferred these jabs to be directed in front of your face rather than behind it. it was what everyone was speaking about, anyways. how you had somehow seduced him.
jujutsu sorcerers were truly insane, in more ways than one.
but that was at the very back of your head. as you follow your very tall sensei through the hallways, you finally reach yuuji's room.
as soon as gojo slams open the door, yuuji jumps up from his bed.
"i swear i have him under control. he just went all crazy and started torturing me from the inside. he made a pact and he only wanted to save (y/n)—"
yuuji stops as soon as he spots you.
you pale. so, it really was true. he didn't, say, hold a grudge against that particular curse, or he didn't feel bloodthirsty all of a sudden. no, but of course not, he had healed you after.
he had wiped away your fearful tears.
"yuuji-kun!" gojo-sensei suddenly exclaims. "do whatever (y/n) tells you to do." and with that, he leaves the both of you together, closing the door behind him with a slam.
"are you okay?" yuuji is the first one to break the silence.
you shake your head, "i am fine," you say lowly, "are you?" you ask him sincerely. this was, after all, the first time you'd seen each other after that dreadful mission.
he flashes you a wary smile, his hand flying to rub the back of his head. “well… ” he starts. “it’s been, strange.”
“what do you mean?”
yuuji’s face is serious when he replies. “he’s been awfully quiet.”
you don’t know how to react to that information, but you can’t help but look away.
you’re now both sitting on yuuji’s bed, knees almost touching. instinctively, you grab his hand with yours and squeeze it.
“that’s a good thing, no?”
“well, yes.” he turns to fully face you. “but he’s never this quiet. he’s always spouting insults and threats, this silence is…unnerving.”
you hum. “i see.” you nod, thinking of the best course of action. “i need to speak to him.”
the words surprised you as much as it surprised him.
“uh-oh, no well in hell.”
“you heard what gojo-sensei said, do whatever i say.”
“i am sure he didn’t mean letting out the king of curses.”
“i am sure that’s exactly what he meant.” and you were very sure. knowing your sensei, he must have known that this is eventual what you would want to do. which is exactly why he uttered that last command to yuuji.
yuuji thrashes around, muttering about how irresponsible and stupid you were being, you didn't disagree, but you stood your ground. with your arms crossed over your chest, your deadpan face finaly drives yuuji to agree.
"fine!" he finally concedes. "but you get ten seconds with him."
you laugh humorlessly, "two minutes."
"you're mad," yuuji shook his head. "i'll give you one minute, but the second i sense malicious intent i am switching."
you nod. "fair enough."
and as yuuji steps back and closes his eyes, you start to panic. what exaclty were you going to do once you face him???
you had no time to think as yuuji starts growing in size, the black tattoos appearing slowly on his skin.
and when narrowed, red eyes glare back at you, you take a deep, shaken breath.
he does nothing but stare at you. you don't miss the way his eyes scan your body, or how his displeased frown only seems to grow by the second. his overwhelming presence takes over your senses. an aura of destruction and death fills the room, and it becomes harder to see anything past the fear clouding your thoughts.
"what do you want, brat?"
somehow, hearing those words helps to calm your nerves. even if they were spoken with such disdain and displeasure. it was the indication you needed to be certain he wasn't going to attack you.
but deep down, you knew all along that he wouldn't hurt you. not really, anyway.
despite every fiber in your being telling you to take a step back, you take one step forward with shaky legs.
he seems taken aback, and if you weren't hyper aware of every slight movement he made, you would've missed the slight inhale of breath when you took another step forward.
"you have some nerve, to stand unarmed before me." he says sowly. "if this were anyone else—"
he realizes his mistake and stops. his jaw is harshly set, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. if this were anyone else.
"i know you." you finally say the words that have been plaguing you all week.
sukuna freezes. three, simple words rendering him in a state of disarray he hadn't experienced in hundreds of years. it was all he could to maintain the scowl on his face, the leer as he looked at this woman to whom he had given out his heart so, so, many years before.
he barely remembered her, and it made him all the more pissed. why would such a puny, tiny, (beautiful) creature make him, this confused? this obsessive, this protective?
he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you ever since he first saw you through the eyes of yuuji. something in him stirred, something he had long lost. but of course, he ignored the jabs he could feel every time you got yourself hurt. he didn't care. he never did.
so why had he gone feral when you had laid there, on the brink of death? the thought of losing you, of your death. it was suffocating, unbearable, he couldn't allow it. he didn't allow it. did he?
and this was why you were here, standing so close to him. loooking at him with those big (e/c) eyes that searched his for answers. you look so soft, so weak compared to his strength; he knew he could kill you with one swipe of his claws. the thought, however, didn't entice him one bit.
and then you spoke those words. i know you. and it was as if you had read him perfectly, saw right through him. understood exactly what was going on here.
"you know me too." it wasn't a question.
your voice was so low, so shaky, but not uncertain. you suddenly wanted to touch his rough skin with your own, to close the distance and feel him. how was it, that one felt affection for a monster?
"you need to stay away from me," he says, and your eyes find his. they were pained, but stern.
"why?"
"because i am a curse." he steps closer, and you realize with a jolt how close he was to you, how, if anyone of you takes one step closer, your chests would collide. "isn't that common knowledge for you troublesome sorcerers?"
and then his hands hover again, just like they did back then when he saved you. and even if he does hesitate like last time, this time, he continues. until his finger is on your face.
gently, slowly. one finger, and then the rest follow as he cradles your cheek.
the breath has long been knocked out of you. he towers over you and you're frozen. how can a beast such as him gaze at you with such longing?
"why do i know you?" you whisper, and he gently shakes his head.
the movement is slow as his eyes roam your face, until they finally settle on your lips. he slowly brings his thumb to brush over your lips.
your heart almost burst through your chest. your lips slightly part.
you can't move, not under his gaze. not when he was this big, this magnificent.
all too soon, he pulls away.
"never seek me out again." he says. you panic, hands reaching out to stop him as he steps away.
but you were too late, yuuji's confused face staring back you.
***
you toss and turn in your bed that night.
a simple moment you'd spent with him, and it had completely taken over your thoughts.
despite your better judgment, for the nth time that day, your fingers ghost over your lips.
you could still feel his touch, hot and hiding a secret you wished to unfold.
who were you to him in your past life? you shudder at the possibilities, at the truth you saw in his rough, yet sincere gaze.
eyes softening at the reminder, you hug your pillow tighter to your chest, as you let out a defeated sighed.
until they suddenly harden upon the following events.
somehow, the higher ups had gotten wind of the situation. you were summoned immediately after departing from yuuji's room.
"this is an unprecedent case," they had said.
"you do understand the importance of this task, don't you, (l/n)?"
"make sure to earn the affection of the king of curses, that way, we might finally be able to control him."
what did they expect you to do? you were barely able to get a minute to speak with him, let alone earn his affection. whatever that meant.
amidst your jumbled thoughts, a yawn makes its way to your mouth. you feel the fatigue washing over you. tapping on your phone screen, it lights up. 2:47, it says. you really should sleep.
but just as soon as you start closing your eyes, your phone starts buzzing non-stop.
annoyed, but more so alarmed, you quickly reach out for your phone. it was yuuji who was blowing up your phone.
pink-haired dork:
(Y/N)!!
he's killing me
he wants to see you
he's demanding to see you
(y/n) i want to see you too, something has happened i need to tell u.
don't come to my room we're both being watched.
(y/n) are u here??? wake up!!!!
you sit up straight, staring at the screen apprehensively. your fingers begin tapping away.
what do u mean we're being watched?? wth
your phone buzzes instantly.
pink haired dork:
megumi told me. he and nobara overheard a conversation earlier. we didn't understand what it meant but i think sukuna does.
he's been pestering me for hours but he just told me it means you're in danger
your confusion increases as you begin to reply.
and you believe him?
pink-haired dork:
i can't risk not to. if this true, (y/n), then we need to get you out of here.
before you can reply, your phone buzzes again.
meet me by the fountain in 15
climb out of the window.
DON'T USE THE DOOR
THEY'RE WATCHING IT
it wasn't that you didn't believe him, this was a hundred percent a scenario you should have seen coming. the higher ups would take advantage of any situation if it meant gaining an advantage over a curse. what you were doubtful again, was the sukuna part.
you don't think too much as you sneak out, not wanting to make yuuji wait out in the cold. you wear a jacket and rush out into the chilly night, being extra careful not to make any sound.
you spot him pacing back and forth besides the fountain. once he hears you coming, he lifts his head. the next moment he was dragging you by the wrist to a more scheduled spot in the garden.
"yuuji what—"
he shushes you, until you reach the location hidden by overgrown trees and vines. "we can't risk anyone seeing us together," yuuji says. "we can't anyone see you near him."
"i got that, but why? what happened?"
"by the ocean's might she was reaped. the devil's claw invincible after an era of peace. the skies welcomed his calamity. against the cruel sorcerers he swore his wrath. the world shall never again know peace shall she be reborn.''
the words were suddenly spoken from yuuji's cheek.
yuuji only nods. as if you were supposed to understand what that meant.
"what does that even mean?" you cross your arms over your chest. and when yuuji only looks as confused as you, you frown.
"this is what megumi and nobara overheard, and sukuna is saying—"
"so you don't know what it mean?"
"no. but he does."
"so tell him to explain!!"
"he won't, unless i let him out."
"let him out then!" you finally retort. you see yuuji falter, you understand his hesitance. but if sukuna wanted to hurt you, he would have already, wouldn't he?
"okey, okey. just be careful alright?" he sends you a stern look. all you could so is nod as you prepare yourself for another showdown with the king of curses.
and once he stands before you in all his glory, you realize this is a bit easier than last time. after all, he was the one who wanted to see you.
"i thought you said, 'never seek me out again'" you make a terrible impression of his previous order.
a big mistake.
you blink and you're pushed on the ground, his hand wrapped around your throat. he was only lightly squeezing, but with his intimidating form leering over you, his fangs barred inches away from your face, you can't help the fear that crawls into your senses.
"know your place, brat." he whispers into your ear. goosebumps erupt against your skin. you can't believe how fast he was, you didn't even see him coming.
you glare at him, trying to wiggle out, but he overpowered you compeltely.
"let me go," you meekly say, looking up into his eyes.
he had already been staring at you intensely, no, not you. your lips. you suck in a shaky breath. in this compromising position, it wasn't difficult to assume what he was thinking about.
"what are you doing?" your voice, barely a whisper.
and then his eyes look up at you, focused on you. "if you'll allow me, i'll make you remember."
you don't know how to answer because you don't understand what he's saying. you also can't form words, they stay, stuck in your throat. and he can see you’re confused, so he decides to show you what he meant.
he leans his whole body in. his breath fans your face. his presence consumes you, he was everywhere. you couldn’t nt ignore it even if you wanted, how his lips were grazing yours, how you knew if you didnt stop this—
you turn your face away. "no!"
"you don't really have a choice, sweetheart."
and you really don't know what he's going to do to you. and you're really scared. and you're trapped, and helpless. and you're wondering why yuuji isn't switching back. you can only close your eyes and await what's to come.
you were expecting a lot of things, but sukuna gently kissing you wasn't one of them.
his rough lips move against yours. a small peck, at first, as if testing, and when you relax into his touch, (a rush of warmth curses through you, as if this is exactly where you need to be), he molds his lips on yours. his hands that had left your neck land softly on your cheeks, in your hair.
and when his gentle ministrations continue, you finally understand what he meant.
you think he had imbued some cursed energy into the kiss, because suddenly the memories come crashing on you.
you see yourself, but not quite you, loving him. not his human form, no. you had loved him as a curse. you see yourself living with him, chastising him against hurting humans. and he listens. for a decade you lived together.
until he had gotten you pregnant. and that's when the jujutsu sorceress of that era had come together. they had ignored your dallying with the curse because it had benefitted them. the biggest threat to them had been tamed by you, after all.
by when they heard news of your condition it was decided. you could not bring his child into the world. a hybrid, an abnormality. they couldn't risk this unpreceded situation from unfolding.
and so they drowned you when sukuna was away, with your unborn child. sukuna came back to find your body floating lifeless ashore. and the sorceress ambushed him then.
in his grief he was overpowered, and despite killing every last one of them, he was still sealed away.
when the vision stop and you're back to reality, you come face to face with a sukuna watching you intently, with concern flashing on his face.
tears were streaming down your face.
"the world shall never again know peace shall she be reborn.'' he whispers. "a mother's wrath born and unseen, awaiting endless moon cycles to be unleashed."
"that's the rest of the prophecy." he pulls away completely, leaving you lying there, consumed by an overwhelming feeling of grief. "they believe you will avenge what happened once i restore your memories, this is why they're discussing what to do with you."
sukuna might have pulled away, doing nothing but staring as your tears fell, but it was taking him everything not to wrap his arms around you, to comfort you and tell you he'll never let those bastards touch you. never again.
and then you sit up and look at him, with those big eyes he had once worshipped. you don't say anything, processing what he had just told you.
the elders want you dead because of a baseless 'prophecy'? how absurd. how utterly foolish.
but you can't help but be scared. they had killed you once. or, even if that wasn't really you, it certainly felt like it. you rub your shoulders, trembling and whimpering.
and then sukuna can't hold back anymore. he makes his way to you, and takes both your hands with his. he squeezes tightly, tighter than he intended.
"no one will hurt you again, or i'll kill them." he says, and watches as your eyes widen, as the tension in your shoulders dissipates, even if by just a little.
because you know. you can feel the truth in his world. he was't going to let anyone harm you ever again. and you weren't sure if that thought ought to comfort you or scare you to the bone.
a/n: i might do a part 2??? there’s just so much sexual tension between them that deserves to be….written about XD
taglist: (everyone who liked/reblogged the prompt) (the ones i could tag anyway) (faceless blogs ignored)
@multiple-fandom-here-wego @odwashere @nikster1111 @dellalyra @shigaraki-b @omgher @minjilovers @scarletbedlam @moonseye @honeyhoneyyyyyy @manjiros-wifey @zoeylunar @soheexxe @gimyeongbestboymain @incognitoowl @ipandora001 @eymahys @imvivian @1-800-mika @stareatch @odwashere @weirdnewbie @bulletinreporter @sukustar @17cherries @sofdah11 @kenmaslittlebrat @dabishotgf @xoiajules
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crazy4leclerc · 19 days
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“i want to claim what’s mine.” — m.v
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pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader
summary: after maxs’ DNF in australia, he finally comes out on top in japan and he has a certain way of celebrating the victory with you
warnings: smut!, possessive!max, cursing, partying, dom!max, mentions of alcohol, thigh riding, eating out, and p in v
a/n: i saw these pics on pinterest and went absolutely feral… bc i know max has a feral side to him. also pls enjoy the cute lil fan interaction at the beginning!! this fic is long so enjoy the ride ;)
i’m currently sitting on the edge of my seat in the garage watching the race with anxiety pumping through my veins. charles is currently in the lead as he got ahead of max when he pitted. im biting on my nails because i know how badly max needs to win this race since he DNF in australia.
i stay concentrated on the screen as max closes in the gap between him and charles. i feel my shoulders tense as they turn corners and max is right on charles’ tail.
coming up on the straight stretch, max finally gains enough speed to pass charles. “fuck yes! that’s my man!” i jump up from my chair and yell, pumping my fist in victory.
the rest of the race flew by easily. max was lapping people towards the end and checo was almost 15 seconds behind him. with a smirk on my face, i walk outside the garage and head over the the 1st place marker where max will be parking his car soon.
i watch as all the fans swarm into place behind the barrier as there is only a couple of laps left.
“y/n, can i get a picture?!” i hear a fan ask and i turn my shoulder over to see a little girl probably at the age of nine, with a smile on my face i walk over to her.
“of course you can get a picture.” i tell her, smiling down at her. she smiles at me and hands me the phone in her hand. i take it from her and snap a couple of pictures of us.
“can you give this to max and tell him i’m proud of him?” she asks me, taking a beaded bracelet off her small wrist. my eyes soften at her as i crouch down to her level. “of course i will. he will love this.” i tell her truthfully and she giggles.
“i have one for you, too!” she tells me and she goes to but the bracelet on my wrist. “thank you, i promise to never take it off.” she reaches over the barrier to give me a side hug and i obliged, squeezing her. “thank you, y/n. i’m your biggest fan!” she squeals to me, “you are, indeed.” i smile and let go of her and i realize the race is almost over.
“let’s watch max come across the finish line!” i tell her and she cheers along with me as we watch max speed down the straight stretch and the checkered flag waves. me and her cheer together as loud as we can.
“he did it!” she yells and i smile, “he did. we’re both so proud of him.”
i watch as maxs’ car approaches us and parks in the 1st place slot. he climbs out of his car and stands on the top, throwing his fist in the air as the crowd roars for him.
i run over to his car as he hops down, his arms wide open for me as i jump into them. “maxie, you did it! i’m so proud of you!” i tell him as he spins me around, laughing through his helmet. he sets me down and takes his helmet and balaclava off, his cheeks are flushed red from the marks and heat from the balaclava but that doesn’t stop him from smiling so big.
“thank you, schat. you’re my number one supporter.” he grabs my face and tells me but i shake my head no, “i’m actually not. i think there’s some one else who is more of a fan than me.” i tell him and he looks at me confused but i turn and point over to the little girl as she waves at us both. max waves back at her with a smile on his face.
“she wanted me to give you this and tell you that she is very proud of you.” i say while putting the bracelet on his wrist. i can see his face soften at the kind act as he kisses me on the forehead and makes his way over to her.
with a smile on my face, i stand back and watch as the fans congratulate max and so does his team.
before i know it, im listening to the dutch anthem being played and watch as max, checo, and carlos spray eachother with the champagne.
i feel my insides turn as max looks up at with a smirk on his face as the champagne roles down his neck and face.
feeling my body heat up at how he looks, carlos distracts him as he spray it all over his face. max sticks his tongue out letting the champagne get into his mouth. i giggle to myself at their little interaction.
once they’re all out of champagne, max bends down a bit, letting the champagne roll off his body. he runs his hand through his freshly cut and now sticky hair and with a devilish smirk in his face.
man am i in for it tonight.
after the race, me and max went back to our hotel room so we could both clean up and get ready for the after party.
“so where exactly are we going for the party?” i ask max while im currently doing my makeup in our shared hotel bathroom.
“it’s at yuki’s since he wants us to all see his new place he got.” he responds back to me through the glass of the shower.
humming a response, i focus on getting my eyeshadow just right as max turns off the shower and steps out. not even paying attention, i feel his hands grab my waist from behind and the heat off his steaming body.
“you don’t even need all this makeup, schatje.” his warm breath fans over my ear and i shudder. “maybe not, but i want people to know how sexy max verstappens girlfriend is.” i shrug and continue to work on my eyeshadow. gripping my waist tightly max kisses the back of my neck, “well it’s too bad that you’re all mine.” his voice dark and laced with possession.
i gulp and just focus on finishing my makeup. “did you hear me?” he reaches up and grips my chin in his hand, looking at me darkly through the mirror. “yes, maxie. i heard you and you are right. i am all yours.” pleasant with my response, he lets go of my chin and kisses my cheek, “just making sure, sweetheart.” i roll my eyes and giggle at his possessiveness.
“don’t laugh, i know it turns you on.” he says as he lets go of me and walks away. “my lips are sealed, verstappen.”
on the way to yuki’s house, i swear max could not keep his hands off me. i wasn’t complaining but i think him winning again had an affect on his actions.
his hand was gripping my thigh as we pull up to yuki’s. “holy shit, his place is nice.” i say aloud and max laughs at my sudden outburst. “it is, indeed.” he parks the car and gets out quickly to come open my door. giving me his outstretched hand, i grab it and we walk in together with his arm wrapped around my waist and my hand gripping his bicep.
every single driver was here tonight and the place was buzzing with excitement.
walking in, we’re greeted by yuki as we both congratulate him on doing good at the race and on his new place. “it’s gorgeous yuki, i love it!” i tell him and he thanks me.
i give max a tap on the bicep to let him know i’m going to go to the bar to get a drink and he nods, kissing my cheek and continuing his conversation with yuki.
once i’m at the bar, i ask for a cocktail and whiskey for max. “fancy seeing you here.” a thick british accent appears next to me as i snap my head in the direction it came from.
i’m met with brown eyes and a smirk on his face. “lando. what a pleasure seeing you.” i reply back sarcastically and he laughs. “i’m honestly surprised you showed up for once.” he makes a jab at me since i wasn’t able to be at the last party (which im convinced is why max DNF) because i wasnt able to make it to the race.
“well sometimes life gets in the way, wouldn’t you like to know that?” i jab back at him. “you’re feisty tonight then what you normally are.” he says as i watch him grab his drink and down it. “yeah, cause i got some asshole making jabs at me for actually having a life. my bad for missing one race. what’s it to you anyway?” i hiss at him sipping on my drink.
“lando, lay off will you?” thank god someone is saving me. i watch carlos appear next to me, giving me a sympathetic smile. “i’m not doing anything, i swear, just giving the pretty girl a hard time.” he smirks and i roll my eyes.
“i don’t even think you’d be tolerable even if i was drunk, norris.” i say as i down my cocktail. carlos laughs next to me patting me on the shoulder. “good one there, y/n.” lando scoffs and asks the bartender for more to drink.
“where is my knight in shining amour when i need him.” i groan. “seems that he’s too busy for you, wouldn’t you like to know?” lando smirks at me and i want to slap it off his face. “god and to think i actually liked you at some point. no wonder carlos left mclaren.” i say and stand up to walk away but someone grips my wrist.
“y/n, cmon, i’m only playing-“ lando is suddenly cut off by him being shoved away from me.
“and just what the fuck do you think you’re doing touching my girl like that?” oh thank god.
“max, i’m sorry, i was only giving her a hard time-“
“i don’t give a fuck,” i watch as max grips his shirt collar, “you stay the fuck away from her, especially when you’re wasted off your ass.” he pushes lando away and i watch as lando stumbles away from the bar. i look over at carlos as he goes to clap max on the back.
“there’s the knight and shining armor!” he says and i feel my whole body relax as max wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my into him. “are you okay, schat?” he whispers in my ear and i nod.
“and for the record, y/n, lando isn’t why i left, sadly to your dismay.” i giggle at carlos’ response and he gives me and max a smile and walks away.
“i need to get the fuck out of here.” max says and i furrow my brows, “why? we just got here?” i says confused as he grips my hips and pulls me so im flushed against his front, “because i want to claim what’s mine.”
i knew at the race today this is how tonight would’ve ended. but after the whole incident with lando it was like something primal took over max.
“maxie, slow down.” i say as i try to catch my breath from the heated makeout session me and max are having against our hotel door.
“hush, baby.” he says as he runs his hand up my body to put his pointer finger over my lips, which does shut me up.
“lemme take care of you.” he nearly whines as he picks me up and my legs straddle his waist. he walks us over to the bed and lays me down. keeping my mouth shut like i’m ordered, i feel max’s hands run down my legs as he grips my thighs to pull me closer. he kneels down on the side of the bed as he begins to kiss my inner thighs.
i’m so fucked.
i try to not make a sound as his fingers work their way up to my lacy panties. his fingers hook into them and yank them down. “are you wet?” he asks and i shake my head yes. but it clearly wasn’t good enough for him as he suddenly grips my throat in his hands, “i need a verbal response.”
“yes! i’m wet, i have been ever since you saved me from lando.” i confessed and he smirked, “that’s my good girl.” he says as he starts to mark my neck, “i gotta show some of those assholes who you belong to.”
suddenly, max’s other hand goes up under my dress and begins to stroke my clit, “you’re soaked, sweetheart.” and i whine in his ear. i feel his finger suddenly slide into my pussy.
it doesn’t take me long before i can feel myself unravel against him. “max, baby-“ i pant against his neck. “hm?” i feel him insert another finger and i squeeze my eyes shut.
“maxie, please, eat me out.” i whine to him and he stops working against my neck, nipping one last time, he gives me a harsh kiss on the lips and slides his hand out from under my dress. i watch as he takes his two fingers up to his mouth and licks me off of them.
“since you asked so nicely, i will.” he says as he grips my thighs and kneels down off the bed. pulling me close to him, he doesn’t give me a second to process before he dives right in, letting a loud moan out of me. “holy shit! max!” i feel him smirk against me as he grips my thighs so hard i know there will be bruises.
“i can’t help it, schatje. you taste too good and no one else will ever get to taste you.” he mumbles against me as i move my hips against his tongue. his stubble scratching against me turns me on even more and before i know it, im letting go all over his face.
“fuck, pretty girl. all this for me?” he asks and i whine out and yes. “mm, that’s what i thought. no one else gets you like this.” he says before he’s diving right back into my cunt for more.
“max, i can’t take it anymore!” i cry and he nips my clit to get me to shut up. i don’t last long at all and im letting go all over him again.
he lets go and stands up quickly, throwing his dark blue shirt off as im completely dazed. i feel his hands grip my waist as he flips me over and begins to unzip my dark blue dress.
“my teams color looks so good on you, love.” he whispers to me as im still trying to catch my breath. he pulls my dress off gently and turns me back over so i can see him. i reach my hands up to his pants and hook my fingers through his belt loop. “will only ever look this good for you.” i tell him and grabs my throat to pull me in for a heated kiss.
“i love when my girl knows who she belongs to.” he says as he sits on the bed as i straddle his thighs. “of course i do. im all yours.” i say as i begin to grind against his thigh. “fuck, schat.” he groans and i hold on his shoulders for support.
“i love the possessive side of you so much, maxie.” i whine to him as he grabs my hips to guide me against his thigh.
“good, baby. cause it’s not going anywhere.” he says and begins to leave marks on the other side of my neck as i work myself against his clothed thigh.
after hitting my climax for my 3rd time tonight, max still isn’t satisfied as he wipes my juices of his pants and licks it off his fingers. max grabs my wrist in his big hand and that’s when i noticed our matching bracelets the little girl gave us.
“max, look at our bracelets.” i tell him and he looks down, a smile gracing our lips.
“i’m assuming that’s our ship name?” he says and i giggle nodding my head. “that’s adorable, i’m never taking it off.” as he lays me down on the bed. he kisses me passionately as i feel him brush against my clit. whining into the kiss he finally pushes into me all the way as we both let out a satisfied moan.
“it’s the best feeling knowing i’m the only one who gets you like this.” he whispers to me, “i feel the same way, maxie.” he finally begins to thrust in out of me as he presses down onto my abdomen. “fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
and i took pride into that knowing max verstappen was all i needed.
a/n: oml i just wrote my first smut.
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Feelings (1)
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Hi guys :)
So this is a new serie and I wanted to thanks @cathhamel for encouraging me to post it. I don't know how many chapter it will have, it will depends of how much you like it I think.
I really hope you will like it.
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Suggestive.
PART 2 |
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As long as you remember, you always have been in love with Alessia. She is a year older than you, but she catches your eyes almost as soon as you met her. She was sweet, full of talents and of course everyone seemed to like her. You liked her too, but it was more love than friendship.
It has been five years, and you never told her anything. Alessia is straight, always talking about her boyfriend at the time or the boy who catch her eyes. You can’t say that she’s a great friend, you never have been very close of her to be honest. You are way more friend with Maya, who you know since your first step together for the Lionesses. Alessia is closer with Ella or Mary, it’s not that you don’t get along. It’s more that you become very shy when it comes to talk to her.
Maya knows about your long-term feelings for Alessia. She sometimes teases you about it, but you seem so desperate about it that she doesn’t do it a lot. You tried to find others girls to help you forget Alessia, but you didn’t succeed. It was even more sad maybe, but that’s the life you choose to live. This gave you a little reputation maybe, but you decide under Leah’s advice not to give a fuck. You do what you have to do, and it will stay that way.
Finding a pretty blonde with blue eyes is even more difficult, because since 2022 you’re playing at Barcelona. Along Lucy and Keira, the Spanish team came for you. You were playing at this time in West Ham and at your age it was a dream coming true. You don’t hesitate to throw your life in England to go to Spain. You didn’t know the language at first, but you learned Spanish and Catalan very quickly. Way more quickly than Keira and even Lucy.
With this team you won a lot of things and with the Lionesses, you won the Euro Cup 2022. You had hope that maybe you can get closer to Alessia with the alcohol and the adrenaline of the victory, but you were wrong.
So now, you are here in Summer camp for the Mondial 2023, in Australia. Sarina had call you to be part of the team, so is Lucy, Keira and of course Alessia. Maya isn’t part of the journey, so is Leah because of her ACL. You were gutted to learn about her injury. Leah always have been like a mentor for you, unlike Lucy who always had the role of the big sister. But you miss Maya in Australia, to be honest.
And you missed her even most, when you learned just before the first game that your girlfriend at the time chose to busy herself during your absence with cheating on you. You weren’t In love with her, but you thought that you can trust her. You were wrong. It was not the breakup who was disturbing for you, but behind betrayed that way. It isn’t something nice, really. You broke up with her, obviously. She asked you for a second chance, which you refuse before blocking her everywhere.
“And she had the nerves to ask you for a second chance?!” Jordan almost shout when Lucy explains to her all the story.
You let her do it, tired of people asking you why you seem so angry and almost sad. You weren’t really sad, but you weren’t really happy too. It was a strange feeling to be honest. You don’t miss your ex-girlfriend, but you are most disappointed to see that another attempt to forget Alessia is failing.
“What a bitch” Mary sighs after Lucy’s nod.
She is at the same table as you this morning, like Lucy, Jordan and surprisingly Ella and Alessia. If Ella seems to be as shocked as the others are, Alessia doesn’t really says anything. But you catch her watching in your direction a lot of time when you look at her too.
You don’t know how Sarina heard about that, but you assured her that you can still play as good as always. So, she lines up for your first game, against South Corea. You scored that day, like Georgia, Alessia and Lauren James. The first win was unbelievable, playing in almost full stadium too. And scoring your first goal in a Mundial was amazing.
Georgia decided to head a little hiding party, inviting everyone who wants to come. You did but spend almost all your time drinking your beer while watching Alessia. She’s so beautiful that you want to cry. You know you will never have her in any way, why can’t you stop those stupid feelings?
You would need to confide in someone, but Maya is probably not reachable now, being in England, so is Leah. You have friends in Barcelona, but they are here too and probably asleep. And Lucy is nowhere to be found, either in her room or on the phone with her own girlfriend. So, you decide to go in your room too, maybe to try to drink something stronger to forget all of this shit.
********
In your room, you sigh, disappointed. Your fridge is empty, probably an ask made by the English Federation. You understand, of course you can’t get hungover right now. How did Georgia find those beer anyway? You lie down on your bed, looking at the ceiling for a long moment before deciding to take a shower.
You slowly take your things and head for the bathroom. You stay a long time under the hot water too, needing time to wash all your feelings of the previous day. When you come out, you have decided to focus on the games and your play, not everything else. You have to.
Sarina, your teammates, your friends and your family are counting on you to have a great result. Your family is still in England for now, in the north of England. They will come after the qualifications, hopping England will pass the qualifications. You want to make your family proud, of course. You left them to play football very young and are used to be far away from them. But you still love them and their opinion are the most important for you.
Only wearing a oversize t-shirt and a shorty, you left your bathroom with your hair wet. You will hate yourself tomorrow, but you decide to sleep like this, not taking the time to dry them.
You were going under the cover when you hear someone knock on your door. Frowning, you go to open it, wondering who can come to you at this time of the night. Maybe Lucy who just hang up with Ona and need to cool off. Things are awful in Spanish Federation and you are happy to be English right now. You open the door, waiting to be faced to Lucy. But you were wrong.
“Alessia?”
The blonde is looking at you, looking like she’s wondering too what she’s doing here.
“Hi” she says with her sweet voice. “Can I come in, please?”
“Uh, sure” you answer with a second late.
You let her in, closing the door slowly behind her. Her perfume is tickling your nose and God. What is she doing here? You turn to her, she is in the middle of your room, playing with her fingers.
“How can I help you?” you ask her, beckoning her to sit down on your bed.
She’s still playing with her fingers and rings when she starts talking, but you leave her fingers with your eyes when she starts talking.
“I learn what happened with your girlfriend” Alessia starts.
“Ex” you mumble, shrugging.
“Yeah. But I just wanted to know that if you need someone to talk about it, you can come to me. I know I’m not Leah or Maya, but if you need someone, it can be me.”
You look at her, surprised. You don’t know what you were waited about her presence in your room, but definitely not that. The gesture touches you, very clearly. But you don’t want to lie to her or that she imagines things.
“I really appreciate it, honestly. But I have to let you know that I wasn’t really in love with her.”
“No?”
You shake your head negatively, then shrug your shoulders. It was weird to explain that the girl you are in love with why you weren’t in love with your ex-girlfriend.
“I trusted her and we had fun together, but I wasn’t in love. The betrayal still hurt, though.”
Alessia nods thoughtfully, biting her lips. And you have to take all your self-control to drag your eyes away from her. You feel like a disgusting teenager sometimes. Maybe when she left you will need another shower. Cold, this time.
“So, do you have someone else in mind?”
This conversation is unreal. Your eyes almost jump on Alessia’s silhouette with that question and you don’t know what to answer. Some seconds passes and you still haven’t answered anything. You gulp and take a breath, but Alessia is finally the first to talk again.
“I see you, you know. Looking at me.”
Ok, this is maybe the moment where you will die. You are mortified. You thought that you were being subtle about it, always looking when Alessia isn’t. You try to be respectful too, not staring at her in the changing room or when she’s not fully clothed. You feel yourself blush, a bright red blush, and you are definitely not ready for the last sentence leaving Alessia’s lips.
“I’m looking at you too”
It’s a whisper, that you probably wouldn’t have heard anywhere but in the silence of your room. You are now looking in her eyes, deep, looking for the truth.
“Alessia, if this is a joke…”
“It’s not!” Alessia takes your hand and comes infinitely close to you. “I swear it’s not.”
Her first answer was almost shout, unlike the second. Her eyes are in yours, her hand squeezing yours and you can think straight anymore. You lean to kiss her and it’s even more everything than you thought it would be. Her lips are sweet, soft and taste like strawberry. Just when you wanted to break the kiss to check that if your action were ok, a whimper left Alessia’s lips, and you just want to hear that sound again and again.
You extend the kiss, not leaving the opportunity when Alessia parts her lips. Your tongue caresses her bottom lip before starting to explore her mouth. You never felt so many feelings to be honest. You almost were shaking.
Wanted to feel her closer, you put your hand on her neck, taking her more against you. When she passes her hand in your now semi-wet hair, you make you fall delicately on the bed. Deciding not to lye on her right now, you lye next to her, on your front while she’s on her back.
When air became an issue, you break the kiss this time. Alessia’s lips were swollen, probably like yours. Her breathing was fast and deep, her chest rising irregularly to the rhythm of her breathing.
Alessia is the one initiating the kiss this time, taking you against her. You let her do it, obviously. This time your chest in on hers and the feeling adding with the kiss is driving you crazy. You manage to keep calm for more kisses, but when her hands are on your back and ass, you try to escape her arms.
“We need to stop” you breath difficulty.
“Why?”
Alessia’s disappointment is hard to miss and it’s flattering. But once again, you chose to be honest with her.
“Because if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop after, Less.”
You saw in her eyes that she understands perfectly what you mean. She bites your lips, from under you and the gesture make enjoyable sensation right in your core. But you have to ignore it.
“What if I want the after?”
You don’t know in what parallel universe you are, honestly. But you need to check that she was being serious and sure of herself. And if she wasn’t drunk too, but you only saw her drink Pepsi tonight.
“I want it, Y/N” is her only answer.
You look at her eyes for several seconds before leaning it again, kissing her on the lips once again. The feeling is intoxicating, honestly. You don’t know it this is a one-time thing or not, but you take your time anyway.
Discovering her is like a dream and you take all the time necessary to remember every part of her. You touch, kiss and stroke every part of her body, trying to remember to what sound she makes at every move. You are kissing her neck, lying between her thighs with her in underwear when she speaks again, whispering softly.
“I’ve never been with a girl before.”
You leave her neck to be able to look at her better, looking at her babyblue eyes. You want her to be comfortable and make this night about her. Not about you fulfilling your fantasies, even if it’s the case right now.
“We still can stop it if you don’t feel right. Just one word and we stop”
She nods, biting her lip once again.
“I don’t want to stop. But I don’t know how to do things.”
She looks shy and you are filled with another feeling than pleasure or wanted. Alessia trusts you and it’s more than everything you ever wanted.
“I will show you” you smile softly.
She smiles back and you return of what you were doing. She seems to relax this time, letting her body fully in your hands. She’s still a little shy at first, but she seems to learn fast. And it’s just amazing.
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fics-a-plenty · 8 months
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Hurtful Words and Bear Hugs
Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin
Word Count: 1,411
TW: Spoilers for Astarion's story in Act 3, mentions Astarion's victims, reader crying
Hi! It's been awhile!
This game literally has me in a choke hold. I am so weak for these two men. I love that you can have a little romance between the three of you. 🥰
As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send any requests for these two as they own my thoughts at the moment!
The days following their victory over his past master, Astarion had struggled with his thoughts and feelings. He felt terrible for how distant he had become, especially as you tried your best to be supportive. Yourself struggling with how to balance giving him his space and wanting to just hold the lost man until his world seemed to piece itself together again.
The one thing stopping him from his full blow guilt was that Halsin was there to distract you at times. The larger man seemed to have a better grasp on his emotions than Astarion did, always seeming to pull you off to some task that needed your attention just at the right times or to lead you back to Astarion's tent with hands and hearts full from their adventures whenever he felt the weight of loneliness creep back in. The pale elf was even sure that at times the druid spoke to Scratch and the owlbear cub to cause small bits of chaos or demand attention from you when he could no longer keep your focus.
Astarion was especially grateful for the times the three of you could spend time together in peaceful silence, either walking around near the camp or just sitting near the fire while he read next to you as you focused on redoing the braids on the side of Halsin's head. While the days seemed to be getting better, and his heart seemed to fill in the empty spots left behind by his revenge and the past that had lead to it, some days seemed to thrust him right back into the deep of it.
He pretended not to see the sad glances you shot him as you racked your brain for some way to help. He knew you meant well and normally he would appreciate it or tease you for how wrapped around his finger you were, but today it just seemed to be to much. He hadn't meant for the groan of annoyance to leave his lips as you came by his tent for the third time today, wanting to check in on him.
"What is it you could possibly want this time?" He snapped as he slammed his book shut, shooting a glare at you from where he sat in his tent. "If you're coming to see how I'm doing, let me save you the breath. I'm the same as I was the other million times you've interrupted me today. Now do you have something to actually contribute to my time or can I read in peace?"
It took a moment for him to realize just what had been said, and by the time the guilt had built up in his chest, your eyes had gone glossy. You turned your face away, not wanting him to see your tears welling up.
"I was just coming to tell you that Halsin and I were going into the city to get a hot meal. I was gonna see if you wanted to come, but I guess I'll let you read."
He could have sworn that he could hear his cold heart crack at the shake in your voice. His lips parted to apologize, but his throat tightened around the words before they could leave. He sat in silence as he watched you turn to walk back to where Halsin was waiting nearby.
His eyes met the druid's before you got to him. The wood elf's eyes seemed to be conflicted, split between knowing Astarion hadn't truly meant to hurt your feelings and the disappointment that the interaction had gone so wrong. Once the two figures were gone from sight, the vampire let out a deep sigh and tried to go back to his book. The words just wouldn't come to him now, and every thought seemed to lead back to the hurt look on your face.
Tossing the book onto the ground next to him, he ran his hands through his hair, partially wishing that he could physically push the thought to the back of his mind or even out of his brain altogether. Deciding to take a walk around camp, the lingering eyes of the other camp inhabitants pushed him to walk further and further away until the camp faded from view.
He wasn't even sure how long he wandered, lost in the downward spiral his mind had fallen into. The tears in your eyes fading into the tears of the past victims as they realized the pain he had lead into. Visions of the lives he had ruined flooded his mind until he couldn't take it. An almost feral scream ripped from his throat as he swung his fist against the trunk of a tree he had wandered to close to, another innocent victim to the control he didn't have over himself.
The pain pulsing in his hand seemed to help ground him as he fell to lean his back against the hard bark. He would have been a sight to anyone wandering by, the pale elf with a bloody hand resting in the ground. His fangs bared in his open mouth, and his chest heaving to try to catch his breath. The now rising moon beginning to reflect off the streaks of wetness down his face.
As his red eyes stared up at the glowing rock, he began to push through the dark thoughts, trying his best to lock them back in the recesses of his mind they belonged in. The sound of your voice began to ring in his mind, helping to fend off the thoughts of self doubt and hatred that lingered. The countless times you had told him that he was good enough, that he was worth being loved and cherished. The times you had kissed his face until these same bad feelings were long forgotten.
As his heart and breath began to settle, the world seemed to know what he needed in that moment, and the wind shifted to blow gently against his face. His lips curled up slightly as the faintest whisp of your scent kissed his skin as if you were there with him. It dawned on him that in the hours he must have been gone that you were probably running yourself wild with worry. A short laugh forced itself from his lips as he imagined Halsin trying to quell your panic, probably saying something about some time in nature doing him good.
The walk back to camp was much quicker that he imagined, his feet pulling him home faster as your scent got stronger. It lead him straight towards Halsin's tent. The deep sound of the man's snore was almost as if he was walking into a real bear hibernating.
He froze for a moment as he saw you curled up against the bear of an elf. Your hand slowly moving back and forth over the hairy chest being the only sign that you were still awake. His feet moved him toward you before he asked them to, before he could even worry about if you would want to see him. He crawled in carefully behind you, not wanting to wake the other. His hand hovered over your side, hesitating at the thought that you may still be hurt.
Your skin against his brought him back to the moment as you pulled his arm over your waist. You thumb began to move side to side on his wrist, your wordless forgiveness warming his chest and releasing tension that he didn't know he was still holding.
"I'm sorry." The words were so quiet as they left his lips that he wasn't even sure he has really said them.
"I know." The quiet response was just as possible to be a fantasy.
"I didn't-" His throat closed again as you turned to look over your shoulder at him.
"I know." Turning your face back forward, you brought his hand to your lips before squeezing it slightly and clutching it to your chest.
The moment of peace was interrupted by the sleeping druid rolling over and throwing his arm over the two. As his thick arm tightened around them, each you and Astarion let out a groan as you were both crushed into the bear hug. The smiles on the three faces and the quiet laughs drifting from the tent seeming to right every wrong in the world for just the moment as the two of you joined Halsin in a well needed night of rest.
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sunkissed-zegras · 4 months
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Quinn Hughes x equipment manager reader smut? Maybe it’s the start of the season so the reader is helping him get all his gear fitted and situated and she’s calling him “cap” and “captain” and he ends up feeling some type of way 😈
✮ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐂, quinn hughes
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♡ ─ word count | 1.8k
♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when is it?) unprotected sex (tap it before u tap it kids), p in v, pretty fluffy, cute quinn, lmk if i missed anything
♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe
♡ ─ ev's notes | sorry for the late answer, nonnie, but i hope you enjoyed!!!!
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You and Quinn had always had some kind of tension between you. You could never place on why, but you sure had an idea.
You were very attracted him, and everyone could tell. I mean, who could blame you? He was so gorgeous and not only that, he was so nice to you. Despite the unspoken tension, Quinn always treated you with a warmth that left you wondering if he felt something too. Your interactions were laced with a playful teasing, leaving you both excited and frustrated. It was a delicate dance, a push and pull that kept you on the edge of anticipation. As time went on, you couldn't help but wonder if your he had felt it too.
As the season kicks off, you find yourself spending more time with Quinn, helping him get all his gear fitted and anything else the team needed. You stand beside him, both focused on the task at hand. The scent of freshly worn sports equipment hangs in the air as you adjust the straps and fastenings. The process is weirdly intimate, each adjustment bringing you closer in proximity. Quinn's easy-going demeanor remains intact as you help him.
The strong scent of freshly polished leather and the distant echoes of the team gearing up in the locker room as Quinn smiles, appreciation evident in the way he smiles.
Quinn glances over at you, a playful glint in his eye. "Thanks for the help. I swear, I never get these straps right on my own. You're the best."
You blush at the praise as your lips curve into a smile, your fingers deftly adjusting the last buckle. "No problem, Quinn. Consider it my secret talent, master of the gear fittings."
He grins, flexing his fingers in the newly adjusted gloves. "Well, I appreciate your expertise, Y/N." Your name rolled off his tongue slowly and you both made eye contact. He was smiling as he gazed back you and you could feel yourself get red, you immediately break the eye contact.
Comfortable silence fills the room as you start gathering everything back where it's supposed to go. Quinn clears his throat and continues, "So, any predictions for this season?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room as if sizing up the competition.
You look up at him as you picked up something from the floor, responding. "I'm feeling optimistic. And with you as the captain, I think we're in for the best season we've had for a while."
Quinn's grin widens at your words, and a subtle pride glows in his eyes. "Well, I'll do my best to lead us to victory. But it's not just about me; it's about the whole team working together."
You knew he was just trying to be humble, but you knew he was proud. "Okay Mr. Modest, you know you're the shit, right?"
Quinn's laughter fills the room, a warm sound that eases any lingering tension. "Well, someone's got to keep my ego in check. Wouldn't want my head to get too big."
You join in his laughter, enjoying the easy banter. As the last piece of equipment finds its place, you catch Quinn's eye again. The shared moment of amusement lingers, and you can sense a shift in the air – a subtle acknowledgment of the tension between you.
The two of you stand in the quiet locker room, surrounded by the tangible energy of anticipation for the upcoming season. Quinn leans against a locker, still smiling. "You know, I may not say it as much as I would want, but I appreciate your help. We all do, without you, we wouldn't know how to do anything."
Quinn chuckles, and the locker room seems to shrink into an intimate space shared between just the two of you. "Maybe not completely helpless, but you make it a lot smoother for all of us. It's like having a secret weapon on our side."
You roll your eyes playfully. "A secret weapon, huh? I think you're exaggerating a bit."
He pushes himself off the locker, closing the distance between you. "Not at all. You have a way of making even the most mundane tasks enjoyable. It's a talent, not anyone can do that."
The air becomes charged with a different kind of tension, one that's laced with unspoken feelings. Quinn's compliment goes beyond the teasing, and you feel a warmth spreading through you. The playful dynamic shifts into a more genuine connection, and you find yourself caught in the intensity of his gaze.
"Thanks, Cap," you respond, the nickname slipping out naturally.
Quinn's eyes hold yours, and there's a flicker of something in his expression. "Cap, huh? I like the sound of that."
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. "Oh, now you're asking for it. Captain Quinn, our fearless leader."
He laughs again, but this time there's a subtle hint of desire in his smile. "You know, I may have underestimated the power of a good nickname. It suits you."
Quinn's laughter fades, and a charged silence lingers between you. The air seems thick with anticipation, and you notice a shift in Quinn's demeanor. There's a subtle intensity in his gaze, a desire that mirrors your own.
His eyes, now filled with a hint of desire, lock onto yours. "You're more than just a manager, Y/N. There's something about you that makes everything... interesting."
You can feel your heart beating faster as the unspoken connection between you intensifies. The nickname hangs in the air, a symbol of the closeness you've built. Quinn's smile turns more intimate, and the shift in dynamics becomes undeniable.
"Well, Captain Quinn," you say, your voice a whisper, "I've heard interesting is good."
Quinn's hand gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Very good, actually," he murmurs.
You reach up, fingers grazing the collar of his jersey, and Quinn's breath catches. The unspoken tension between you evolves into a something deeper. The tension becomes palpable, and in that charged moment, Quinn closes the remaining distance, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss.
Quinn's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and the world outside the locker room fades away. The connection you've felt, now manifesting physically, makes his touch right now south.
One of his hands go to cup your face, pulling you impossibly closer to him. The kiss is deep and passionate, just the way you'd imagined. He pulls away and you both breathe heavily.
"You're a good kisser, Captain." You tease quietly and it was like something in him clicked, he let out another exhale as his eyes turned into something more than just desire.
"Fuck, say that again." Quinn whispers back, his voice carrying desperation and need.
You didn't know he was into that and it took you aback to watch Quinn be so desperate. "Kiss me again, Captain."
He didn't hesitate, he pulled you in again and this time, the kiss was desperate and sloppy. He let out a hum in your kiss as he slowly walked you back into the locker, holding you against it. His hand moved up to hold your neck as he kissed you deeper, making you let out a whimper into the kiss.
He start grinding against you and you immediately felt his hard-on on top of your stomach. You didn't know it was that easy to rile him up, if only you'd known sooner. Quinn started kissing down your jaw as you let out a desperate moan.
"Shit, Quinn. Please," was all you could say. Your thoughts were beginning to fog up, you couldn't think straight.
"Please what, baby?" He mumbled against your neck as his hands move down to grip your waist. When you didn't answer, he let his hand go lower down in the place where you needed him the most. He cupped your covered cunt and you let out a moan, echoing throughout the locker room.
"Just fuck me, please." You whispered and you felt yourself become warm at the thought. He let out a chuckle before engulfing you in another bruising kiss, your whole body slamming against the locker once again. He
Your hands went to wrap around his shoulders as his hands went to take off your shorts, leaving you in your panties. "Jump," he mumbled against your lips and you did as you were told and he held you up with ease.
He pushed you harder against the locker as you moaned in his mouth, making him break the kiss. One of his hands unzipped his pants and quickly pulled out his hard cock. He moved your panties and slowly entered you. All you could do was grip his shoulders and moan as he thrusted himself right in you.
He stretched you out so perfectly, you swore you'd never felt this good your entire life. "Shit, Quinn."
"You feel so fucking good, baby. So good," he groaned as he finally bottomed you out. You felt so full, so good. His cock made you feel so dizzy, you were about to pass out.
He slowly started thrusting in and out of your soaking cunt, the sound echoing throughout the locker-room. You kept holding onto his shoulders for support as he fucked into you, letting out whimpers.
Quinn gripped your hips tightly as his speed increased with each thrust, your head fell back as he fucked into you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper.
"Fuck, baby, keep doing that." He groaned in your ear and you could barely comprehend the words he was saying, all you could do was mumble an affirmation as he kept fucking into you. "Just like that, baby."
You felt that familar knot form in your stomach as he kept his ruthless pace, making your head spin. "So close, please don't stop!" You moaned out.
He placed wet kisses all over your neck as he mumbled against you, "Me too princess." His grip on your hips was unforgiving, you could feel the bruises coming in but you didn't care, it felt so good. "Fuck."
The knot kept getting tighter and tighter, you could barely keep up. Before you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck. "Fuck, Quinn!" Your body spasmed in his arms as he kept fucking you through it. You saw stars as it washed over you.
Soon, he was cumming into you too. You both just sat there for a few seconds, catching your breath. Quinn gazed at you and he couldn't help himself getting hard again at your fucked-out state. He let out a chuckle as he shook his head playfully, "Didn't know you were into me like that, until... that."
"Didn't know you had a weird "Cap" kink," you retorted teasingly as he laughed, laying his forehead against yours.
"Yeah, you and me both."
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thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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