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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

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rosé | f. odair

(final part of red wine)

part one, part two

summary: in the final part of the red wine series, secrets are revealed, and miscommunication threatens to tear you and finnick apart.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, blood, minor injury, mentions of forced prostitution, swearing,

notes: i’m sorry this took so long to come out y’all. thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this mini fic <3

word count: 4.1k

Finnick believed he had made a lot of smart decisions in his life—like rigging a net made out of vines to ensnare tributes in the arena, accepting secrets as a form of payment from his patrons rather than material goods, and mastering the art of seduction to manipulate his way out of various difficult situations. However, shutting you out was not one of them.

Half an hour had passed since the incident on the staircase landing. He lingered within the mansion’s extravagant walls, where other guests mingled and dined on a range of bizarre delicacies. He couldn’t eat a thing. His stomach churned at the image of your hopeless expression as he walked off. The expression he caused.

It had to be done. That is what he had been telling himself. It had to be done, otherwise, everyone in the Capitol would learn of his feelings for you. Snow would find out and most likely punish you for interfering with the arrangement he had—the sale of his body. And Finnick was very aware of what happened to people who disrupted the president’s plans.

Partygoers would have already begun to spread rumours of the scene in the courtyard. Hopefully, it would just be chalked up to a simple argument between friends. Friends. The label borderline disgusted him. You don’t fall asleep to the thought of someone and think of them the moment you wake up if you’re just friends. Nor do you look for them in every room you walk into.

Even now, Finnick was scanning the lavishly decorated banquet hall for a glimpse of your pure white gown, despite being the one who walked away. It was an instinct at this point. But there was no one in the room wearing white but him; his matching half was still outside, blending in with the winter snow. Or maybe gone home.

One colour did catch his eye though. A vibrant, almost tacky red, worn by a woman who was strutting towards him, her chin held high with pride. Finnick noticed the material of her floor-length gown. Silk. She was wearing your old dress, only the colour was incredibly off, and each hem was lined with red fur, conforming with her implanted whiskers. That was when he realised who the woman was.

Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline.

“Where’s your dancing partner tonight?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

The bright saturation of her dress was almost blinding as she stopped in front of him. He held back a grimace and plastered on a smile even faker than her voice. “She wasn’t up for it this time,” he lied.

“Well, everyone knows she’s out of touch with our way of life,” she said. Finnick ground his jaw, struggling to maintain his façade. Words could not explain how condescending these people were. “This dress is an adaptation of one she wore quite a while ago. Such a plain thing. I only liked the colour and bodice. The only way I could wear it in public was if I spruced it up.”

He thought back to the dress you had worn. Nobody had even come close to how phenomenal you looked. Where others needed extravagance and flounce to stand out, you only needed a simple red dress. Yet here this woman was, thinking she had the audacity to call you plain.

“I noticed. It’s very… striking.”

“Thank you, darling,” she purred. There was a predatory gleam in her eyes, like that of a wild cat about to pounce and devour its meal. “I was waiting for the perfect occasion to wear it.”

His forced smile twitched. “You’re certainly turning heads.”

“Did I turn yours?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Truth be told, Finnick hadn’t even remembered her existence until she walked right up to him. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her that, so he told her that she did. For a long period of time, they bounced back and forth, complimenting and flirting with each other, never dipping below the surface into a real conversation. Not that he wanted to anyway. Not with her. The only person he longed to conversate with was now out of reach.

The woman started talking about colourless topics such as the latest fashion trends in the Capitol and her opinions on the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, all of which made Finnick wish she would just gouge his eyes out with her sharp claw-like fingernails. He couldn’t do anything but stand, smile, and agree. Doing anything else would result in Snow staying true to his very detailed threats

As the conversation continued, his attention began to drift. He surveyed the outfits of everyone in the room, amusing himself by deciding whether or not each person was making a fashion statement or tragedy. Only one person claimed the former title—the one in white.

Finnick watched as you entered the room. The giant golden chandelier cast down a bright light which caused your skin to glow with radiance; its glare enhanced the brilliance of your white dress. This brief moment ignited a fear in him that you had died in his absence because there was no way a mere human being could look so angelic.

“Finnick?” the feline asked, but her voice barely registered in his brain.

Captivated. He was utterly and completely captivated. One after the other, sudden realisations conjured in his mind. The first—there wasn’t a life worth living ahead of him if you weren’t by his side the whole way, and not as a friend or a fellow victor, but as his partner. His lover. The second—he would never let any harm come to you. He would keep you safe from Snow’s clutches, from the Capitol, from anyone who would put you in danger, even if it meant the two of you had to disappear into the vast forests of Panem.

And lastly, he was now absolutely certain that the woman in front of him could never compare to you, nor could anyone else in the ever-expanding universe. You were a basic human necessity to him. Without you, his heart might as well stop beating. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your unwavering support—every part of you kept him alive.

“Finnick?” the voice that went disregarded hissed again.

With a half-empty wine glass in hand, your anxious eyes searched the room. Finnick wanted nothing more than to sprint over, pull you into his arms, and cast away every trouble plaguing your mind. He couldn’t. Almost all eyes were on you, yet you hadn’t even seemed to notice. Only one person finally seemed to gain your attention, and that was Finnick, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes locked on yours.

The neurons firing in his brain signalled him to move and he did. But just as his legs started to walk, a forceful hand jerked his face to the side and a pair of harsh lips were crushed to his. Glass shattered on the marble flooring. Momentarily paralysed from shock, Finnick stumbled backwards, briefly catching the twisted triumphant smirk on the woman’s face before whirling around.

Your face was frozen with devastation; his heart dropped. Splatters of red wine had stained your gown, pooling in a crimson puddle of glass shards by your feet. Quiet mocking chuckles and whispers echoed around the room. Oh, if only he had his trident; they wouldn’t be laughing then.

An Avox rushed forward, attempting to clean up the mess, but you had crouched down with them.

“No, please,” Finnick heard you say to the Avox as he strode toward you. “Please don’t. I can do it.”

But delicate hands and glass shards never mix well. You gasped in pain. A jagged fragment you collected had sliced into your palm, creating another crimson pool in your hand.

Finnick’s strides quickened, eventually leading him to stop and kneel beside you. He wordlessly took your hand in his, cradling it as he inspected the damage. Blood coated his fingers, but he didn’t care. He might as well have cut your hand himself. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for him.

Pink blush overtook your face. For once, it wasn’t because he made you flustered or bashful, but because you were humiliated. He knew how much you disliked attention; now you were at the centre of it. Beside you was the Avox, tending to the mess of broken glass.

“Could you bring me a first-aid kit, please?” he asked with a polite smile.

They nodded and silently left. Finnick returned his attention to you, applying pressure to your wound. Your gaze was lowered, unwilling to meet his own. There was more to your demeanour than just embarrassment. There was sadness. Disheartenment. Neither of which were present when you walked in, only appearing after the feline woman had kissed him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes unmoving.

The Avox returned holding a medical kit; Finnick thanked them, taking the box into his hands. He climbed to his feet, hesitating before offering you a hand up. Much to his relief, you accepted his assistance. And then, without a word, you began walking towards the nearest exit with apparent indifference to the engrossed eyes following you.

Finnick didn’t bother to conceal his icy glare toward the crowd as he trailed behind you and exited the room.

*******

Pain of a thousand unrelenting bees stung the broken flesh of your palm. Even the slightest movement of your fingers sent waves of throbbing agony up your arm. But it was nothing compared to the brutal ache of your heart.

You had entered the mansion in search of Finnick, determined to mend the crack in your friendship before it crumbled completely. What you got instead was humiliation and heartbreak. What you saw was another woman kissing the man you loved, whilst wearing a horrible adaptation of your red gown no less.

The air had been sucked from your lungs. Believing he would kiss you on the dance floor in the courtyard was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream, a pathetic fool’s wish—every term under the sun that defined something not real. At least now you understood why he was acting so differently. Because he had found someone else and that someone wasn’t you.

A lump formed in your throat and you knew tears were approaching. As if your night couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Your feet carried you down a long corridor, far enough away from the banquet hall that listening ears and prying eyes were unable to reach. Finnick still followed behind you, though you weren’t sure why he bothered. How could he explain what you saw with your own eyes? Plus, the last thing you wanted was for his new romance to think something was going on between you and him. Only in your dreams.

Unsure of your destination, you decided to enter the first room you came across. It turned out to be a lavishly decorated library, walled with large wooden bookshelves which were filled endlessly with novels and historic paraphernalia. Sitting within the bookshelves was a stone fireplace.

The door closed as Finnick entered behind you, the silence so loud that the crackles from the fireplace reverberated through the room. Your hand still throbbed something awful so you looked down, taking in the gruesome sight of your dress. A stranger might have thought you had just murdered someone. If it were televised, it would have been deemed acceptable.

You sniffled, wearing a small bitter smile. “I ruined Snow’s pretty white dress.”

A few moments passed before Finnick replied. “Red always was more your colour,” he said, his tone anything but playful.

Ahead of you was a great wall of windows; in the reflection, you saw him staring back at you with an unfamiliar expression. His brows were pinched upwards, pronouncing the lines in his forehead, and the corners of his mouth drooped in a slight pensive frown. He didn’t look like the Finnick you knew. This Finnick looked pained. Anguished.

You dropped his intense gaze and ambled across the room. By the lit fireplace was a cushioned stool which you sat down on, eyes staring into the flickering flames. If you were lucky, maybe your dress would catch alight and whisk you away from your troubled life. Okay, perhaps the thought was a little morbid, but so was a broken heart. Of all people, why did you have to fall in love with Finnick Odair?

Cautious footsteps followed behind you, coming to a stop beside your feet. Without your acknowledgement, Finnick crouched down, eyeing the bloody mess of your hands with concern. His gaze lifted to yours, which was still on the fire, and he sighed.

“Let me take care of your hand,” he murmured.

Before you could refuse, you realised contracting an infection was worse than giving in to your stubbornness. So, you nodded.

Finnick opened the first-aid kit and began tending to your wound; his touch was so gentle it was like he was piecing together a broken china cup. Using an antiseptic gauze, he attempted to clean the damaged skin, whispering apologies whenever you winced in pain. After carefully applying a dressing, he began wrapping a bandage around your hand.

You stared into the orange flames, wondering how he would explain to that woman why he left her behind. You wondered when their relationship started and why Finnick continued to shamelessly flirt with you in her absence. You wondered if their relationship would be the end of your friendship.

“Are you in love?” you quietly asked.

His hands stilled at your sudden words, then he continued wrapping the bandage. “Not with her.”

He secured the binding with medical tape and climbed to his feet, placing the supplies back into the kit on a small side table.

Brows drawn together in confusion, you turned to look up at him. “But I thought—"

“Things are much more complicated than they seem,” he interrupted. There was a clear vase of white roses on the table. Finnick toyed with the petals, caressing them between his gentle fingertips. “No one understands me better than you do, and there is no one in this world I trust more. But… there are still things I’ve been keeping from you.”

The troubled expression on his face melted into one of vulnerability. This was a new appearance for him. Finnick was known nationwide for his radiant confidence and charm; he never let his guard down. You have had difficult conversations before, such as discussing each other’s hardships and innermost secrets, but none of them seemed to affect him like this.

“Everyone knows about my visits to the Capitol,” he continued. “How I spend nights with different people every time as if it’s all a game for my pleasure. But it’s not true. It’s not my game I’m playing.” He began walking over to the wall of windows, overlooking Snow’s gardens. “There’s a part of it that no one knows about.”

You rose from the stool, beginning to take slow steps towards him. “Which is?”

The fire flickering behind you deepened Finnick’s features. It intensified the shiny bronze of his hair and enhanced the defined contours of his face, making it easy to see the muscles in his jaw clench with apprehension. He stared out the window so intensely that you were sure his usual green eyes were blazing with their own inferno.

Even full of angst, he was painstakingly beautiful.

His chest inflated with a deep breath. “President Snow… sells me to the Capitol.”

Horror washed over you in monstrous waves. Sells? Only one explanation appeared in your head as to what he meant. You remained silent, praying he would prove your assumption wrong.

“After I won my Games, he saw my success as an opportunity to please his citizens. He began offering me to potential buyers—'admirers’ is what he called them—who soon became my regular customers. They would use me however they liked. Some would pounce on me the second I stepped through the door. Others were relatively tamer. Kinder. They would have me take them on dates or watch a movie with them, but one way or another, it all ended the same way at the end of the night.” He sucked in a sharp uneasy breath before continuing. “Then there were the rare few—the ones who treated me like I was nothing more than a ragdoll for their amusement. They did things that were… unspeakable.”

Nausea churned in your stomach as your mind conjured sickening images. It couldn’t be true. You refused to believe that human beings could stoop to such levels of atrocity to make one person endure so much cruelty. Then again, you lived in a world where children were sent into an arena to fight to the death on live television.

Finnick looked like he was holding himself together by a thread. Every word he confessed shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could this have happened to him?

“I’ve tried to refuse but Snow threatened to harm the people I care about—my family, my friends. After I met you, I knew you were added to that list.” He finally turned around to face you, his eyes filled with such anguish, it shook you to your core. “The Capitol owns me, Y/N. Body and soul.”

Despair riddled your entire body. As you stared at him, the image of a teenager appeared in your mind—eyes sea green and hair a fiery bronze. He was just a boy when it started. A child.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” you managed to whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Less of you? Finnick,” you said softly, stopping in front of him. Your eyes beckoned for his; you needed him to look at you, to really take in your next words. “There isn’t a single person alive I think more highly of than you. No one even comes close. Can’t you see? Just having you in my presence makes me feel whole. You make me whole.”

Tears glistened in his eyes as they flickered between your own, absorbing every reassuring word you said into his mind, his bones, his entire being.

“You have brought so much into my life,” you continued. “So much good. And I would never have made it to where I am now without you. So please, don’t ever distance yourself from me because you think I will judge you. I won’t and I never will.”

As the room stilled with silence, a lone tear rolled down Finnick’s cheek. His Adam’s apple bobbed, revealing the sob he was keeping restrained within his throat. And then a smile started to grow on his face, small at first, but then it stretched wider and wider, deepening those dimples that you adored so much.

You knew that your words had touched the deepest parts of him. That you had managed to convince him ‘less’ could never be a word used to describe him. He was more. More kind, more genuine, more caring than almost all of Panem.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in awe, looking at you as if he were witnessing the birth of the universe. “Sweetheart, you’re incredible. Do have any idea how rare that is for a person to be? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you in my life, but I swear I’ll do whatever I can to keep you. And if—” His gaze drifted, seemingly wrestling with a decision in his mind— “if that means I have to share all my secrets with you, then I will.”

“Have you got any more secrets, Finnick?”

He returned his attention back to your face. The indecision from moments ago had disappeared and was replaced with certainty, which was underscored by a sort of tenderness that settled in his features.

“Just one,” he murmured. He paused, observing the universe before him and wondering how on earth he got so lucky to have the privilege of having it staring right back at him. “I’m in love with you.”

Electricity shocked your heart like someone had placed a defibrillator over your chest and hit charge. Love? You? He was?

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you everything. Even if saying this means I’m risking everything between us, I can’t keep it from you any longer. God, sweetheart, I love you so much it fucking hurts. I always will, even if you never feel the same.”

Somehow in the span of twenty minutes, everything you thought you knew came crashing down. First, your heart was broken by the thought of Finnick kissing another, and then it was healed. And then it broke again as he voiced his arrangement with Snow. It could never fully heal again while Snow was alive, not with what he was forcing upon Finnick.

But Finnick pieced together every piece he possibly could with his confession, one heartfelt word of declaration at a time.

The weight of his confession hung in the air. His eyes held a mixture of anxiety and hope for your response. Time seemed to stretch out as you tried to find your voice. How do you declare your love as powerfully as someone who just bared their soul to you?

An emotional laugh bubbled up your throat, your eyes brimming with tears. “You idiot,” was what you said, the words spoken with utmost adoration. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Finnick’s eyes widened in amazement and a brilliant smile broke across his face. Before you had a chance to react, he had moved towards you in one swift step, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a powerful, passionate kiss.

Your hands were quick to cling onto him, desperately terrified that if you let go, he would vanish into thin air. Every ounce of yearning and hidden affection from the past year poured into this one single moment, into the movement of your lips against one another, and the feeling of your hands cradling each other’s bodies.

Emotions were running high. You could taste both your own and Finnick’s tears as they streamed down your faces, salty and palpable with affection. The sheer relief of finally being free to express your love was so unimaginable that you felt like you would be crying with happiness your whole life.

Finnick’s hand cupped the side of your jaw and he lowered his head, deepening the kiss as much as he physically could to make up for all the time he wasted. His lips were soft and adoring, savouring the sweet taste of your lips on his. His other arm tightened around your lower back, pulling you even further against him.

You felt like you were melting into his embrace and happily, you would have. It felt so right, so safe to be held by him. The world outside the library no longer existed; there was only Finnick and you. Your hands settled on either side of his jaw, staining his skin red from your blood-soaked bandage. You knew he wouldn’t care—the blood belonged to you.

And that is how you spent most of the night. In the library, in that one spot by the windows, in each other’s arms. At some point, you ended up sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, both covered in red and feeling blissfully content. Your back was leaning against Finnick’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he occasionally pressed his lips into your hair.

You toyed with the fabric of his sleeves, your head leaning against his collarbone as you watched the flames once more.

“If Snow ever finds out…” you murmured.

“He won’t,” he reassured quietly. “I won’t let him. He’s taken too much from me; he won’t take you too.”

You turned your head to peer up at him, wearing a teasing smile. “Can’t live without me, Odair?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Never without you, sweetheart.”

Once again, Finnick’s lips were on yours, conveying every ounce of immense love he felt for you through his kiss. The only time either of you broke apart was to whisper sweet declarations of your devotion and reverence before returning to each other again. This was when you felt most complete.

When you felt whole.

tags: @queenofspades6 @powellssaturn @bellamybellamyblake @heroinhchicblog222

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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rkvriki · 2 months

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PAIRING ! husband!sunghoon x house wife!reader SYNOPSIS ! some domestic moments of your married life with sunghoon.

WARNINGS ! SMUT MDNI!! reader likes to bicker and scold hoonie but its bc they act like a married couple, very brief handjob, hints of shower sex, oral (f. receiving), there's a small argument moments but its like old married couple fighting, nipple sucking lmao, there's no actual sex sorry!! ALSO SORRY IF ITS BAD I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING

wc: 3.7K

a/n: happy early valentine's to my baby @pshaven i love you wifey mwah !

“Sunghoon, seriously, I need to leave.” you said with a huff as you tried to break free from your husband’s embrace. “Just a little bit more.” he replied, words muffled as his face was hidden in your neck. “Hoon- You know I have brunch with your mom” you reminded him “And besides that, if I stay here I won’t get out anytime soon.” you felt him smirk in your neck at your words, making you roll your eyes at him. His hands started moving inside your shirt, caressing the skin there. “Hoon! Please, let me go. I need to shower” you insisted trying to push him off. It wasn’t even 11 in the morning and he was already managing to make you annoyed. With a deep sigh he rolled onto the side, letting you go.

You walked towards the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing yourself. You got in, feeling the warm water on your feet. You let yourself immerse in the warm feeling before getting to your shower routine, letting your muscles relax for a bit. There were very few moments where you could fully relax and take a break from the world. Even though you didn’t actually work and were just a housewife you had a lot to do around the house and you knew people didn’t really take you seriously when you said you felt tired or like you needed a vacation but maybe jealousy speaks louder volumes. It wasn’t your fault your husband chose to give you this lifestyle and the opportunity to not work.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your hair when you heard the shower door open, making you open your eyes to see Sunghoon in all his naked glory, standing there and staring at you with a smirk. “Seriously, Sunghoon?” you said closing your eyes again and returning to washing your hair. “You really aren’t giving up, huh?” You turned your back to him as you rinsed the shampoo off. He didn’t say anything but you felt his hands circle your waist as he pressed himself (and his boner) on your backside.

“Oh my God! Sunghoon, I seriously can’t be late for your mom!” you said, hands still moving on your hair. “I promise I’ll be quick, yeah?” he said as his hands moved upwards to massage your boobs, making you bite your lip and contain any sounds that tried to come out. “Yeah, no, Hoon. Sorry.” you replied turning around, now facing him. The look he was giving you usually would be enough to have you on your knees but today you swore to yourself you would be on time to meet with his mother.

“Move! I need my body wash.” you tried to sound unbothered, but the flicker of your eyes between his eyes and his cock showed him you weren’t so unaffected. He chuckled at your behaviour, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close to connect your lips with his. Your eyes instantly fluttered close as you felt his plush lips move against yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you, his cock rubbing against your stomach. One of his hands made its way to your cheeks, angling your face to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip asking for permission, making you moan as you felt his tongue rub against yours.

Your hand moved from his shoulder down his torso until it reached his already hard cock. You grabbed the base, moving your hand up until it reached the tip, making Sunghoon moan as he pulled away from the kiss. “Acting so hard to get for what, mnh?” he said smirking against your lips. Your hand squeezed his dick, making him hiss at the feeling. “Yeah yeah, whatever, make it quick.” you said turning around, bending over slightly for him. “I need to leave before 11:30.” Sunghoon laughed at your antics. “Wow, so romantic, baby.”

It was around 7 in the afternoon when you started making dinner. Sunghoon still hadn’t come from work and you knew he was gonna be in the office until a little later since he had texted you about an important business meeting or whatever. You decided to make his favourite dish since it has been a while since you’ve made it and you wanted to reward him for working so hard this past month.

Sunghoon’s company has been having a lot of great deals coming up and while that was good it also meant he spent longer in his office. You were worried that he was overworking himself, since you knew how he gets when there’s important stuff going on in the company. Still, Sunhoon always made sure to give you his attention whenever he could, always answering your texts and calling you in his breaks and obviously, when he got home he always gave you more than just his attention so you always try to give him rewards with your domesticity you knew he craved after long days.

The smell of homemade food filled Sunghoon’s senses as soon as he got home. A smile making its way to his lips when he caught a glimpse of you cooking, still not noticing him as your back was turned to him and you were so immersed in preparing the meal. He walked towards the kitchen, being careful not to scare you. The warm light from the top of the stove made the whole scenery look so domestic and Sunghoon wished he could take a picture of you at that moment. You must have felt his presence as you turned to look at him, already smiling up at him. He leaned down to kiss you, a happy sigh leaving his lips when he did so. When you pulled back you noticed how tired and droopy his eyes looked, making you frown a little bit.

“Everything ok, baby?” he asked, hands reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah, Hoonie. You just look so tired.” you answered as your lips pouted slightly. He let out a deep sigh but smiled at you nonetheless. “Yeah, but it’s nothing being with my sexy wife can’t fix.” he said giving you a wide grin, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. “Shut up, dork.” you replied, turning back to the pot to get back to cooking.

A comfortable silence sat in the air and it was just you cooking and Sunghoon leaning back on the counter as he observed you carefully, unconsciously smiling to himself. “I can feel you staring at me, dude.” you told you as you kept on with the cooking. “And you had to ruin the moment.” he said rolling his eyes “And so what? Can’t I look at my beautiful wife?” he said as he moved to hold your waist from behind. “Whatever, Hoonie. Let me cook.” you said wanting your space to cook. “I’m letting you!” he said as his face moved to your neck to start peppering kisses on the area. “Sunhoon, I’m serious!” you warned but still rolled your head slightly to the side to give him more access to your neck, making him smile as he bit on the skin softly.

“If the food burns you’re paying for take-out!” you said in a warning tone but Sunghoon knew you were enjoying the attention he was giving you. “You should take a break baby.” he said grabbing you to turn around. “Sunghoon, let me fin-” you were cut off by your own squeal as he pulled you to sit on the counter. He reached to turn the stove off so the food wouldn’t actually burn and you were left staring at him dumbfounded. “Sunghoon, the food-” he cut you off by giving you a peck on the lips. “Relax, baby.” He said getting on his knees in front of you, your eyes following his every move. “Just need to taste one thing right now.” his hands reached for the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I?” he asked looking at you with his puppy eyes, making you nod eagerly at him. He pulled your pants down along with your underwear, not wasting any second to bury his face in your warm cunt.

When things weren’t so busy in the company Sunghoon would take some days to work from home. Normally, for any wife who has a busy husband, this would sound like heaven, but not to you. At least not today. Unfortunately for Sunghoon (and for you), it was cleaning day, which meant you were gonna go through all the rooms including his home office and make some noise with the vacuum cleaner which also meant it was gonna bother Sunghoon during his online meetings or distract him from work overall.

You were in the middle of vacuuming the hall which had access to his office when his door burst open, making you look at him, still vacuuming. His face sported a deep annoyed frown, making you raise a brow at him. “May I help you?” you said turning the electronic off. “Actually, yes.” he said in a very annoyed tone. “Could you not vacuum when I’m working?” you looked at him shocked that he was asking such question. “Um, no I actually can’t!” you answered starting to get just as annoyed as he was. “Y/n, I’m literally working right now and I can’t focus at all.” he said, complaining as if you weren’t working as well. “Oh! And what am I doing? Playing house? Jeez, Sunghoon, you can be quite the asshole sometimes.” you rolled your eyes at him and walked off to the living room, leaving him standing there as he watched you disappear in the corner.

Sunghoon was back in his office and it had been some good thirty minutes since your small argument and even though he was annoyed at the time he knew it wasn’t your fault and you were just doing your work. He was starting to feel bad and as much as he wanted to keep working, the heavy feeling in his chest kept reminding him to go apologise. Sighing, he rolled his chair back and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He got up and left the office quietly, looking for you in the living room.

When he reached the room he saw you sitting on the couch as you surfed through the different TV channels, rolling his eyes and biting back a scoff when he saw you stopping on the stupid reality show you loved so much. He walked to the couch, making you look at him just for a very quick second before getting your attention back on the show. He sat next to you, thighs touching yours. His hand landed on your legs, rubbing it up and down in a comforting manner. Your eyes flickered from his face to the TV, waiting for him to say something.

“Baby…” he started “What?” you said, eyes not moving from the big screen in front of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you were working just as much as me. I’m sorry, baby.” he said, moving closer to you. “You were a little mean, not gonna lie, Sunghoon.” You said playing with a loose string in your old shirt you usually wore to clean the house. “I know I was, baby. This client was annoying me, and even though this isn’t an excuse I want you to know I didn’t mean to let it out on you.” he said as he brushed hairs that came out of your bun away from your face. “It’s ok. I forgive you, Hoonie.” you smiled up at him, curling yourself on him. His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, lingering there for a while. “Stay here for a little bit?” you asked, looking up at him. “Of course, baby.”

You swore you loved Sunghoon very dearly and if there was a bad thing about marrying him it would be your inability to sleep properly without him beside you. While, yes, that was true it was also a curse because of Sunghoon’s little sleeping problem. Sunghoon snored very loudly when he was really tired which consequently pulled you out of your sweet sleep. You tried all you could think of. You covered your head with a spare pillow, you covered your ears with your hands, you elbowed him in the ribs but he wouldn’t even budge.

Annoyed you sat up on the bed and shook his arm, making him let out a hum and look at you. “Turn to the other side, you’re snoring.” you told him with furrowed brows. He let out mumbled words you couldn’t even understand, probably annoyed you interrupted his sleep but still turned around, his back now facing you. Sighing, you laid back on the bed, your head hitting the fresh silky pillow.

You felt bad for waking him up just to stop him from snoring since you knew he was probably tired from a long day at work but your sleep was also important! Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt sleep take over your body again. Just as you were about to fall asleep again a loud snore followed by a sigh made your eyes open wide.

Your hands gripped the sheets as you let out an annoyed sigh. “For fuck’s sake.” You whisper-yelled as you sat on the bed, feet blindly looking for your slippers. You grabbed your pillow and walked towards the living room to try and get some quiet sleep. Your feet dragged on the floor as you tiredly made your way to the couch. You threw your pillow on the couch and grabbed the blanket that you always threw on the armrest. You laid back down, sighing happily when you felt instantly take over you.

Sunghoon looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing it was still a little past six. He sighed softly as he turned to your side of the bed but felt nothing but the cold of your sheets. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head when he saw you weren’t lying beside him. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and got up to go look for you. First, he looked in your in-suite bathroom but you weren’t there. He walked barefoot through the halls until he reached the living room. There he saw you laying, curled in the white fluffy blanket you usually shared on movie nights.

Sunghoon smiled softly as he walked towards your sleeping figure. He shook your arm slightly, making you shake a little bit as you woke up. “Why aren’t you in bed, baby?” he asked when you were finally looking properly at him. “Maybe because someone was snoring like an ogre and I couldn’t sleep.” you answered in a groggy voice, making him chuckle at your response.

“What time is it?” you asked laying your head back on the pillow. “Just a little past six.” he answered “Come back to bed, yeah?” you groaned feeling comfy and warm on your couch. “Carry me?” you asked, smiling and extending your arms towards him. He smiled and shook his head but still crouched to grab you and carry you to bed, kissing your head in the process as you both made your way to your shared room.

The weekend had finally arrived and you and Sunghoon had been waiting for a day like this since forever. You both woke up late and had homemade brunch and were now lying on your shared bed watching movies and just talking with each other. You were cuddled on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around you as you both seemed to be immersed in a random romcom playing on the screen in front of you. Both of you had been quiet for a while, the only thing heard was the movie playing.

You were starting to get bored of the same rom-com plot playing over and over in each movie. You rolled your head back against Sunghoon’s shoulder and just stared at him, admiring his perfect features. He was so into the movie he probably didn’t even notice you staring. It was in moments like this that you wondered how could have you bagged a husband and man like him. Your eyes moved from his plump lips to his perfect straight nose that you loved to sit on so much.

You were getting needy for his attention so you started to leave love bites on his neck, making him look at you with a surprised look. You smiled up at him, making him mirror your expression as you kissed the spots you previously bit, soothing the red marks. “‘M bored, Hoonie.” you whined as you pressed your face in his chest. “You want to change the movie?” he asked, grabbing the controller. “No!” you said sitting up “I’m bored.” you said again but emphasizing the bored with a suggestive tone. His eyes widened in realization but his expression quickly changed to a playful one.

Sunghoon said nothing as he laid you against the many pillows displayed on your bed, making you let out a squeal. “And what does Miss wanna do, mnh?” he asked, biting his lip as his hands slipped inside your shirt, caressing your stomach. “I don’t know, Hoonie…” you said giggling as you spread your legs further so he could fit in between them. “Then I don’t think there’s anything I can do, baby.” He said sitting on his knees, making you whine at him. “Hoon, please!” you begged not really sure for what. “Tell me, baby. What do you want, mnh?” he said hovering over you again. “Just do anything! Please!” You said grabbing him by his nape.

He pulled your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. The sight was enough to make him feel himself become hard in his sweats. He took one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand played with the other. You moaned at the delicious feeling, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you squirmed against the bed. “Hoon…” you moaned when you felt him graze his teeth on your sensitive nub. He pulled away to suck on the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other, a string of his spit falling on the valley of your breasts.

“Please, Hoonie, need more!” you whined softly, grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach. Sunghoon pulled away from your breasts to look at you. Cheeks blushed, eyes shiny and lips parted. Even though you have been married for almost three years now, you never failed to impress him with your beauty. He smiled at you, leaning down to peck your lips multiple times as he giggled like a fool in love (exactly what he was). You felt your cheeks warm up at his antics, giggling at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Whatever my baby wants.” he said moving south.

Thankfully you hadn’t worn any pants underneath your shirt so he had easier access to your panties. He buried his nose in your clothed cunt, giving it a lick through your panties, making you moan and grind against his face. “H-hoon!” you moaned quietly. His hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards as he reached for the hem of your underwear. “Can I, angel?” he asked for your consent, making you nod at him. He pulled your panties off of you, revealing your glistening cunt to him. He let out a shaky sigh at the sight of your bare cunt on display wet just for him.

He used his thumbs to spread your folds, revealing you fully to him and lowered himself on you, moaning when your sweet juices hit his taste buds. His tongue licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, making you let out a breathy moan as you grinded against his face, smothering him in your essence. “Hoon, fuck!” you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue flickering your clit. “Shit! So good. Hoon!” He moaned in satisfaction, grinding against the mattress, trying to get some relief of his own. His tongue moved to your hole, slurping on your wetness.

Sunghoon felt like he was ascending to heaven as he inserted his tongue in your hole, feeling more of you. You kept moaning and grinding on him, fingers pulling him closer to your cunt. Slurping sounds along with your moans and whines were all that was heard in the quiet room as he immersed himself in your pussy. His tongue alternated from sucking to flicking on your clit when he felt your hole clench repeatedly, meaning you were about to cum. “Hoon! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned out loud. He could also feel himself come close to his own release as he kept grinding himself against your sheets.

His hands moved from your folds to embrace your thighs to pull himself even closer to your cunt. His tongue started moving faster on your now sensitive nub. “Shit, Hoon! S-So close!” you screamed as you felt your body twitch. He seemed to suck even harder on your clit, motivated to bring you your sweet release. With a couple more flicks of his tongue, you felt the oxygen being knocked out of your lungs as your body stilled and your vision turned white. “F-Fuck, Hoon!” You moaned as you came on his tongue, hole clenching uncontrollably as his tongue now moved to your hole to slurp at the juices that were starting to drip out of you.

It also didn’t take him long to cum as he felt your hole clench around his tongue, his body shaking as he felt his sticky release stain his underwear. With a final suck, he pulled away from your pussy to not overstimulate you. You lay there, panting as you came down from your high. His face was covered in your slick and a smile adorned his lips, making you giggle at the way he looked like a lovesick puppy. “Thank you, Hoonie.” you said, pulling him down to peck his lips. “Everything for my princess.” he replied as he kissed you again before getting up to prepare you a bath.

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tlou-reid · 3 months

Note

Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!

as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3

spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.

the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.

yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.

you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.

and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.

spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.

so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.

much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.

his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.

his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.

the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.

“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”

the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”

spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.

you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.

your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.

“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.

you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.

you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.

“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

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somnambulic-thing · 3 months

Text

page 622 read on ao3

Eddie Munson x afab!reader E +18

summary: It's the middle of the night and you just can't find sleep. Eddie wants to help. He wants to help so bad.

Words: 3k

||reader has insomnia, smut, fluff, pinch of angst, LOTR references, domestic, nerds in love||

A/N: This is for all of us who haunt the nights. <3

Page 622 is graced with not one, but two dog ears.

That’s nothing unusual for the thick heavy paperback in your hands. A copy of The Lord of the Rings, all three parts united in one book and littered with battle scars like a gnarly old Orc of Mordor.

It belongs to both of you, bought on that whimsical fleamarket by the side of the road with spare change collected from the nooks and crannies of the van. It hadn’t mattered that you already owned a box set each, it had been clear that this book wanted to go home with you. Once integrated into your shared collection, it became the copy that was pulled out when Eddie and you had an argument about the most minuscule details to settle. It wasn’t a rare occasion that someone got tackled before they could claim victory over the matter. That brave book had been ripped from victorious hands more times than you could count and flung over shoulders, into corners or behind furniture.

It was also the copy Eddie used to ponder ideas. When he was writing a campaign and the atmosphere he was eager to create didn’t feel quite right, he would go down into the Mines of Moria or deep into the thicket of Fangorn forest and seek inspiration between the lines. There he left marks with the heavy tip of his pencil, elbows catching on the edges of pages as he reached for his notebook, creating new dogears, sometimes small tears.

You loved those marks and never grew tired of discovering fresh traces of his adventures. They kept you company on those days you wouldn’t get tired at all.

The world between the worn covers was familiar, the motions of the adventures committed to memory in many places, the adventurers friends that comforted you on restless nights.

You chose this copy over the others you own because it’s an intimate object, because you could trust it to catch you should you fall asleep on its pages, trust it to be more beautiful in the morning with more kinks and wrinkles.

But there were days when even the unhastiness of Treebeard wouldn’t do the trick to coax you into slumber. Today was such a day; stuck on the sofa on a dark, restless sea and no sleep in sight.

You hadn’t heard him coming.

“Just flopped around the mattress like a fish out of water looking for you.”

Eddie’s voice is deep and raspy and a little cranky around the edges. Your eyes shift from page 622 to where he stands in the doorframe, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes. There are lines on his right cheek, a shallow relief in the mirror image of his pillowcase. His boxers sit dangerously low on his hips and it tickles in your fingertips to follow the trail of soft hair and tuck them further down.

“That’s an amusing image,” you say with a smile as Eddie rubs one eye with his flat hand, nose scrunched up and wrinkly. “Can you demonstrate that to me?”

“Do not mock me. I awoke all cold and lonely…” he waves the other hand through the air. “Forsaken by my love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, the mirth in your tone slipping just slightly, but Eddie catches it.

“How long have you been up?” he asks, banter put aside in exchange for worry and makes his way over to the nest of blankets and pillows you’d made on the sofa.

You frown, not sure you know the answer to that question, feeling like you’ve fallen out of the stream of time; trapped in endless night, doomed to read the same three sentences on page 622 again and again with nothing but your thoughts for company. Until now.

You turn to check the thin green digital numbers on the VHS recorder while Eddie lowers himself to the ground in front of you. “Almost two hours.”

“That’s no good,” he says softly and fumbles with the blanket draped over your legs in search of your skin, nudging the book off balance. It slides down your lap with a soft rustle. Dark, heavy eyes search your face for clues he knows you’re reluctant to give him and a warm palm finds your thigh moments later, an epicentre for violent goosebumps. You shiver and he smiles. “What can I do?”

“Nothing—“

“You underestimate my relaxing properties.” He places a kiss on your knee. “It’s pretty annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “Don’t want to keep you up—“

“Want me to take over the reading? You just rest and listen—” He lowers his voice to a soft rumble. “—let me hypnotize you.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“Shhh… would you please just let me help?” Without waiting for an answer, Eddie slides the blanket off your thigh and covers it in soft, slow kisses.

“Can’t—“ kiss “go—“ kiss “back to sleep—“ kiss kiss “knowing—“ kiss “you’re out here alone. Suffering.”

His hair is soft between your fingers. You loosen a few small knots while you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Eddie… I…”

It’s exhausting being a ghost, to haunt the wee hours of the night unable to find rest. It was also lonely. There was a hazy barrier isolating you from the people around you. From the man whose company you craved so much but struggled to accept in this circle of hell.

Eddie has had his fair share of sleepless nights, had done plenty of haunting himself; but not like this, not without a trackable cause that offered some degree of sense. And you’d never wish this on him no matter how lonely you get, but sometimes, you find yourself envying him for the way he just falls asleep on any surface most days and with the envy, there comes resentment. The disconnect between resentment and longing a rope binding your hands behind your back, keeping you from reaching out.

Dark eyes are staring holes into your body as Eddie is waiting for you to continue, to give him something.

“You what, sweetheart?” He’s rubbing circles into your skin. “You want me to leave? Like, actually?”

“I don’t want to take my mood out on you…”

“Why not?” he grins. “We could make it fun. Tire you out, air out some of that—“ his hands leave your legs to gesture wildly through the air. The cold creeping in where his warm palms had just rested feels unbearably cruel. You don’t want him to leave. “— some of that pent-up… whatever it is.”

“Okay.”

Eddie’s brows vanish under tousled bangs. “Okay? Shit, I had this whole speech planned about how we’re a team and that you’re being so stubborn is a waste of time—”

“You complaining?”

“No… no…” he smiles and runs his hands up your thighs. “So, you wanna be a little… mean to me?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Don’t want that.”

He hums and nods, leans down and licks your skin; from your knee right up to the hem of your shorts. It’s the slightest touch, just the tip of his tongue, but the sensation sinks into your body like warm summer rain falling onto dry and dusty ground.

“Let me love you,” he mumbles against your thigh, running the tip of his nose along the border of fabric you hide behind. “I hate it when you feel lonely while I’m right here and fucking crazy about you…”

“You’re right here,” you repeat like in a trance. Eddie looks up at you, so soft and wild at the same time and so sincere and you feel the last layer of resistance melt as if it had never existed.

“Right fucking here.”

“Fuck me.”

Warm gentle hands begin to free your legs from the tangle of blankets and you marvel at how much of Eddie’s essence resides in his touch; soft but rough around the edges where his fingertips have put on tough skin over the years. There’s so much love, so much passion lingering in those points where you end and he begins.

Accompanied by the soft rustling of fabric, Eddie runs those storytelling hands up and down your thighs, from the inside to the outside and up to the round of your ass where he ever so slightly puts his nails against your skin and runs them down down down to the back of your knees where he holds on and pulls you further down the cushion. You yelp a little and then you both laugh a little and you lift your hips to aid him rid you of your shorts and underwear.

“M’ gonna try a thing,” he says and spreads your legs just wide enough to fit in between.

“Try w-what?” you ask around a hitching breath as you watch Eddie slide two fingers into his mouth. They glisten with spit when he pulls them out and you can hear a few drops hit the floor as he lowers himself down.

“You know how I sometimes take ice-cold showers to shock spiralling thoughts out of my mind?”

“I… what? AH!”

One long finger enters you swiftly, moves in-out-in-out and is joined by the other. Heat expands like a shockwave through your pelvis as all the blood rushes to greet the pads of Eddie’s fingers. He moves with precision in quick pulsing motions against that soft erogenous spot deep inside you, watching you closely.

“Good?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Not too much?”

“No,” you grit out as your hips start to twitch.

There is no smug little smile, no told-you-so grin, only deep concentration and a bright red blush high on his cheeks and you desperately wish he’d kiss you. That thought is gone and forgotten as that penetrating pulse quickens, deepens and Eddie’s mouth inches closer and closer to your clit. There’s a sharp tingling in your cunt, not quite a sting, not quite pain and it’s hot and delicious and as it spreads out into every corner of your body, the world gets smaller and smaller, shrinks countless miles each second until this sofa is the only place left in the universe.

“Holy shit, holy shit, those noises, sweetheart.”

You can’t hear a thing over the rush in your ears and as Eddie’s lips close around your confused, prickling clit, your eyes roll up and close.

And for an infinite moment, there’s nothing left but ecstasy.

When time starts up again, you’re re-entering the world shaking and gasping. Eddie is quick on his knees. One hand closing around your wrist and the other pressed into your back he pulls you into an embrace that you collapse into like a dying star.

“I love you I love you I love you…” he whispers into your hair and holds you holds you holds you until you feel solid again. “You good?”

You nod and hum.

Hands find your face and guide you up and you remember how badly you need a kiss when Eddie’s lips form pretty words so close to yours. “Now, let me take you to bed and—“ You interrupt him, pressing your mouth to his with desperate, sloppy urgency. He chuckles softly, catching your lower lip with his teeth for a gentle tug before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Really wanna continue this.”

“Can’t move… you broke me.”

“Oh, well, pretty sure you broke my fingers with your pussy so we’re even. Get up.”

You laugh and reach for the hand cupping your left cheek; you kiss the palm, run your tongue along his fingers and kiss the tips. “Better?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up and he takes a sharp breath. “Bedroom!”

He scrambles to his feet and pulls you with him. In motion like that, you can feel drowsiness settling in, slowly taking hold of your muscles. Your legs still feel shaky, almost heavy, and Eddie wraps an arm around your waist for the moment it takes you to steady yourself.

“Looks like it’s working,” he says softly.

“Feels like it, too.”

Finally, there is the smug smile you have been waiting for. “And it took me less than two minutes. ”

“You… checked the time?”

“For science,” he says proudly and the smile turns into a grin.

“Ah, science. Alright, Doc,” you reach down, hook a finger into the waistband of his boxers and let it snap. “I’m ready for the next experiment.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrows his sleepy eyes and hums. You can hear the cogs in his mind take up speed and then he sidesteps you and begins to rummage through the mess of blankets and pillows on the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a sec, you gave me an idea— ha!” He whirls around and shoves The Lord Of The Rings into your hands. Your reaction is tardy and you feel the cover catch on your thumb and bend in a way that probably leaves a crease but you have not time to check because Eddie is quickly maneuvring you to the bedroom.

He sits you down on the bed and swiftly pulls your shirt over your head and you have no choice but to let go of the book. It drops somewhere on the mattress and out of your mind when Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and strips out of his boxers.

“Never gets old”, you marvel at the sight of him, pale and lean but soft and the smile you just conjured with those words seems nothing short of diabolical with the way the light catches his features from below.

You recede onto the mattress and he follows you like you’re magnetic, crawling after you until he’s back between your legs, kissing his way up your body, taking his time to caress your breasts with his hands and lips. Only when you yawn he stops and comes up to face you, to kiss you and you drink in the sigh of relief that he places inside your mouth as he slides his hard cock against your folds, you hold on to goosebump-covered shoulders as he pushes inside you.

“Never gets old,” he moans as he rolls his hips against you in deep, slow thrusts and kisses your nose when you have to giggle.

You’re not chasing ecstasy now, but wholeness, you’re not searching for a high, but for refuge. All your thoughts slow down while Eddie occupies all your senses.

“How do you feel?” he asks into the soft spot below your ear.

“Good… Sleepy.”

“M’ not saying I told you so—“

A chuckle tickles your skin and suddenly, a bolt of guilt and fear flashes through you. “But we can’t do this every time—“

“Hey!” He lifts his head to look at you, presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Don’t go there,” he says and puts his forehead to yours. “Come back… come back to me. I got you.”

“I’m here.”

“You just have to let me in…” He kisses you like he’s sacred you could vanish from beneath him and you swear you can feel his heartbeat reach out for yours, swear you can feel it pound against your chest like it’s begging for entry.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper and sling your arms around his shoulders. “I’m trying.”

And then he moves, slowly pulling his cock from inside you—

“Eddie?”

and stretches long across the bed to grab the book right off the edge.

“On your side,” he instructs and manhandles you into position before you can comply on your own and slides back into your cunt before you can process what’s happening.

“Fuck… oh fuck…” you moan as quick deep thrusts hit just the right spot over and over. You can hear the rustling of pages behind you and Eddie’s chest retreats from your back. “W-what are y- ah you…?”

‘It was not much more than a tall man’s height now…’ he reads the first line from page 622. You try to turn to look at him but he pushes you back. “Nu-uh, relax. M’ going to read to you and I’m going to fuck you till you pass out and maybe then you’ll think of waking me sooner the next time you pick up this book in the dead of night.”

You moan and laugh and there are tears in the corner of your eyes. “You trying to condition me?”

There’s no answer, he just keeps reading; shakily, punctuated in the quick rhythm of his thrusts and laced with moans of his own. You just close your eyes and let go and soon enough you’re close to the edge again.

’We are famisshed, yes famisshed we are, precious,…” he croaks in a toned down, breathy Gollum impression that’s highly confusing and you clutch the sheet, pulling it loose.

“Shit… you gonna make me come…”

After a few more lines he stops reading and you hear the book drop. Eddie presses close to you, softly bites your shoulder while a hand wanders down between your legs to play with your clit.

‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum,’ he continues from memory.

“Oh, you asshole,” you groan.

‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it… tasty?’

One strangled moan falls from your mouth and then your insides tense violently. Eddie mercilessly fucks you through it and beyond and doesn’t slow down until he coaxes another orgasm out of you. He follows you this time. You feel him pulse and twitch deep inside of you, feel his hot breath on your shoulder and neck and one stray tear escape the corner of your eye. It runs down the side of your nose while you listen to both your mismatched breathing slow down again.

“I fucking love you,” you babble groggily. “So much… so much…”

Eddie places a kiss on the back of your head and picks the book back up, resuming where he left off. He stays inside you while he softens until he slips out. The distinction between characters fades, the gaps between words grow longer but you barely register it; it’s the sound of his voice that pulls you under into the depths of Morpheus’ realm and you’re finally ready to descend completely…

‘Look here!’ Sam whispered to Frodo, not too softly: he did not really care whether Gollum heard him or not. ‘We’ve got to get some Sleep—' Eddie pauses. “Precious? You asleep?”

Your slow, even breathing is all the answer he gets. He carefully reaches over you and drops the book on the mattress before he turns off the light and wraps his arm around you.

“Gonna find you in my dreams,” he whispers into your shoulder and follows you into sleep.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson fanfic #my fic

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

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novelconcepts · 11 months

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There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #yj meta #long post #shauna shipman #lottie matthews #taissa turner #van palmer #misty quigley #natalie scatorccio #the question not being how do you survive the wilderness. the question being how do you come BACK.#the way each of them tries so hard to keep moving forward #unable to untangle the girl in the woods from the adult suffering in polite society #how the world doesn’t want to hear about the pain or the night terrors or the sleepwalking or the addiction #the world wants the bright colors and the flash-bang headlines #the world doesn’t want who they are. who they had to be. it wants pretty perfect tragedy #that specialized environment lives on in each one of them every day #but it’s not a place anyone else can ever go #how do you feed that for so long and then just…stop?#constantly thinking about nat saying we didn’t make it out. none of us.#because no. no they didn’t. the girls died the minute that rescue chance did. what came back was risen from those ashes

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runnning-outof-time · 7 months

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Hiii K, congrats on your 3.5k! That’s such an amazing milestone 🥳🤩 I’d like to send in the following prompt for John. 17. “How do babies get made.” I felt like this would go very well with John 🤭 Can’t wait to see with what you’ll come up with!

Hi Daisy @peakyltd !! Thanks so much for sending this in!! I was hoping that someone would choose John for this prompt because you’re sooo right - it fits him perfectly!!! I hope you like what I did with this! Also a special thanks to @raincoffeeandfandoms for letting me use the ‘little chimney man’ who brings babies…you’ve helped (Y/N) immensely here! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

That’s Not What Dad Said

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: awkward talk about babies being born, a playful smack with a newspaper

Word Count: 677

Summary: (Y/N) gets a surprise when she and John’s oldest child asks a rather interesting question out of the blue.

The question that six year old James Shelby asked just about made (Y/N) spit the tea she was drinking right back into its cup. “Can you repeat that again, dear?” she prompted the child, silently hoping that she didn’t hear him correctly.

“How do babies get made?” the boy repeated his question. It was the exact question (Y/N) had heard. Word for word.

“Umm, well…” she trailed off, taking a few moments to try and think of how she’d tackle this. The boy was six…he didn’t need to know about the actual process that occurred. “So when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they have a talk, and in that talk, they decide that they want to have a baby. Then, there’s a man who comes down the chimney after hearing the talk and puts the baby in the mummy’s tummy. In nine months, the baby is born, and that’s how babies are made,” she finished her extravagent story with the exhale of a breath and an unsteady smile, hoping that it worked.

James looked at his mother, not saying anything for a few moments. “That’s not what dad said,” was what he finally said in response.

His statement immediately confused (Y/N). “Wha—what do you mean?” she rushed to ask, her eyes shifting between her son and her husband, who was still reading the newspaper and drinking tea; completely unbothered.

“Dad and uncle Arthur were talking yesterday and uncle Arthur was telling him about a lady he was with and I asked dad what he meant and he said that it’s how babies get ma…”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough. Why don’t you go and get ready for school, hmm?” (Y/N) cut the boy off, already having an idea of where the rest of his statement was going. Her insides were doing flips just thinking about her husband and his brother talking about stuff like that in James’ presence.

“Ok,” James nodded, hopping off of the chair without a second thought. (Y/N) was thankful he didn’t question it and did what she asked. He ran off then, leaving (Y/N) and John alone in the kitchen.

(Y/N) looked over at John, seeing him glance over at her while holding the cup up to his lips. He tried to be nonchalant and revert his eyes to the newspaper, but (Y/N) caught his gaze. “Would you like to tell me why you and Arthur were talking about those types of things with your boy in the room?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“We didn’t think he was listenin’ to us,” John tried to defend himself, setting the cup down so that he could look at her.

“He’s six, John. He listens to everything…and then he only remembers the things he isn’t supposed to,” she countered, her frustration shining through her words.

“It was a mistake, love. It won’t happen again,” he assured her, surrendering the argument because it was one he knew he couldn’t win.

“It better not,” (Y/N) emphasized, standing up from her chair to collect the empty dishes from the table. She walked them over to the sink, sitting them in it so that she could do the washing. Before getting to it, she walked back to where John was sitting with the newspaper in his hands. “Let me see that,” she said to him as she stopped at his side, motioning to the paper he was holding.

“Here,” he said, handing the paper over without second thought.

(Y/N) didn’t waste any time. She rolled the paper up and used it to lightly smack John on the back of the head, the sound of the whack from it filling the room.

“Oww!” he exclaimed, turning to look at her with wide eyes as he rubbed the back of his head.

A grin spread across (Y/N)’s face as she locked eyes with her husband. “I meant what I said,” she said then, seriousness present in her voice.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby blurb #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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munsonluhvr · 12 days

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♡ seven | steve harrington x reader (childhood friends to lovers) (record player series #1) word count - 1.1k

You shift in your seat, tucking your legs against your chest, leaning forward to place your chin on your knees. The soft, warm breeze blows against your skin, leaving goosebumps across your arms in its wake. Your eyes dart to catch Steve’s as he sits across from you on the same picnic blanket. His sparkling, brown eyes glance back at you, a small smile creeping across his mouth.

Even all these years later, he still has his boyish looks from when he was seven. The same messy brown hair, the same lopsided smile. Even after all these years, his gaze still makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world.

It’s been nearly a year since you last saw Steve, college taking you to different sides of Indiana. You had managed to keep in touch, sending letters occasionally, but it didn’t fill the ache of missing your longest childhood friend. You, of course, made friends at school, but none of them made you feel like Steve, none of them understood you like he did. But as you sit across from him now, the tension between you feels different as if somethings changed.

Steve starts laughing softly, taking you out of your thoughts, his gaze turning from you to across his backyard. The large weeping willows drape over the empty space of his yard, nearly touching the patio chairs Steve’s parents have had for as long as you can remember. The sun warms the ground beneath you, and you let your fingertips disappear into the green fluff of the grass.

“D-Do you remember when I nearly broke my arm jumping off the porch because we were pretending to be pirates? Or when you got into an argument with your parents, so you packed your dolls into your sweater and came over to the house saying that you were coming to live with me?” Steve says between laughs. He shakes his head, reminiscing on the memories you made together as children; thinking about your seven-year-old self, cheeks pink and stained with tears standing on his back porch after the argument with your parents.

You nod, your eyes grazing across his back porch where you could nearly visualize that day as if it was yesterday. You could also remember when you had been playing pirates with Steve and had to run into his house, in search of his parents because he had jumped off the porch to pretend he was going overboard and fell on the ground hard, wailing in pain. Though, he only sprained his arm.

“I think I remember that you wiped my tears, hugged me until I stopped crying and told me we’d run away to India one day. Far away from our parents.” You say, a smile appearing on your own face.

Just then Steve’s eyes drops, his hand going to rub the back of his neck in a self-soothing way; he always did that when he was nervous or distressed. “Yeah, I guess I had a crush on you back then. My seven-year-old self-thought we could run away to India and get married.”

Your heart begins to thud against your chest, butterflies beating their tiny wings against your lungs. Steve had been your best friend for as long as you can remember, not once did you grow apart. Sure, being apart for college was difficult, but you did the best you could. What you had learned at college, however, is that the longing you have to see Steve, the ache you had for your best friend, was no longer platonic – it was love. The time apart from him, around others who didn’t get you the way he did encouraged you to truly understand your feelings for him. The realization had kept you up in your cramped dorm room night after night, but you finally accepted the truth. You loved your childhood friend.

“I-I didn’t know you liked me, ever.” You said, biting at your bottom lip. You can’t recall a single time you felt the sense that Steve could possibly like you more than his childhood best friend.

Steve continues to rub at the back of his neck, then runs a hand through his fluffy hair. “Sometimes I think I still do.” He says, glancing at you. His own heart thumps against his chest, a metallic taste flourishing in the back of his throat.

Steve had had his own realizations after you left for college, the time apart from you encouraged his mind to think about you constantly, missing your presence and the way you could make him laugh. He came to the conclusion he’s always had feelings for you, his younger self thinking it was plausible to sweep you away to India, your precious belongings tucked into your shirt, far away from your parents; but as time went on he had convinced himself that there was a very little chance you could feel the same about him and he hid his feelings until now.

Your jaw slacks ever so slightly at his confession. You can feel an even bigger smile beginning to appear on your face, but you don’t want to seem too eager. “I didn’t know that.”

Steve shrugs, his eyes still struggling to meet yours. His nerves are frayed, searching to find a hint in your voice or body language to see if he’s ruined the most important friendship he’ll ever have. “I didn’t know how to tell you; I could never tell if you felt the same.”

You reach out, your hand making its way to Steve’s that’s placed on the ground, holding him up. You let your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his skin brushing against your palm. “You should have said something,” you say, your voice coming out lower then you expected to be.

“Why?” Steve asks, his heart thudding against his chest, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He’s afraid his heartbeat in his ears will drown out your answer and he’ll miss you saying something he’s waited so long to hear you say.

“Because I feel the same, and I also didn’t know how to tell you," you say. Once the word leaves your lips, the relief you feel makes your body feel light.

The urge to kiss your lips overcomes Steve and following his impulse he leans forward, his soft lips colliding with yours. You hum with pleasure, as Steve's hand reaches towards your, his nimble fingers intertwining with locks of your hair. You lean forward, deepening the kiss with Steve, the flavor of his lips is as sweet as the strawberries you had eaten only a few minutes before. Is this what you've been missing out on all this time?

Steve pulls back just enough to mumble against your lips. "I've wanted to kiss you ever since I was seven and you flashed me a smile with all your missing teeth for the first time." Then he leans back into you, his lips gently pressing against yours, as all of his childhood fantasies come true.

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #S

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gojodarling · 2 months

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sweet like sin ⤑ toji fushiguro | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: ❝ there’s nothing, toji thinks, that is as sweet as fucking his children’s babysitter in the bed he shares with his wife ❞ non-curse au. infidelity au. pwp.

❥ pairing: dilf!toji x babysitter!reader ❥ genre: fluff ∴ smut ❥ word count: 11k

⤑ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: daddy dom!toji, sub!reader, big cock!toji, toji is a fucking tease, teasing, corruption kink, dirty talk, rough nipple play, marking, degradation, finger sucking, toji is a fucking pussy tease and i’ve had enough!!!, pussy eating, hair pulling, pussy spanking, clit sucking/biting, orgasm control, gagging with underwear, toji fucks ur pussy with his tongue <3, face riding, crying, delayed orgasm, overstimulation, squirting, wet & messy sex, begging, reader is such a lil crybaby, choking, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, minor pain kink, size kink, rough sex, deep dicking, breeding kink, creampie

⤑ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: cheating, age gap (reader is 22, toji is 36)

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: does this have any business being this late? no. do i have any excuse? also no !

⏤ read it on ao3 here

“Almost done, Gumi?” you ask, smiling softly at the eight-year-old boy sitting in front of you.

With a stoic face, Megumi spoons the last chunk of ice cream into his mouth before nodding his head. You grin at the boy, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand up and approach him. Grabbing his bowl, you walk over to the kitchen and quickly rinse it clean, before stashing it away in a cupboard, hiding any evidence of the late night—well late for an eight-year-old—snack.

“Come on, Gumi, let’s get you to bed before your parents get home, yeah?” you say, walking back towards the dining table where Megumi is still sitting, staring stone-faced at you.

Just as he nods and moves to slide off of the chair, you both hear the familiar sound of keys clinking, followed by the door rattling. You and Megumi still, your eyes widening as you realise that one of Megumi’s parents has returned home. For a brief moment, you see a look of nervousness cross his face, the expression breaking through his usual detached façade. If it were any other circumstance, you’d internally cheer at the emotion that paints his countenance; since you met him, you’d always thought Megumi was far too unemotional for an eight-year-old.

Nonetheless, you can’t celebrate the rare occasion of feeling from the child, not when you realise you’re both about to be caught. It’s almost half past nine, and as far as Hisano, Megumi’s stepmother, is concerned, Megumi’s bedtime is eight, Tsumiki’s at half past eight. Luckily, you had tucked the ten-year-old into bed already, Tsumiki having finished her ice cream first. Truth be told, the only reason Megumi was still awake was because he had asked for another helping of ice cream, but being full from his first bowl, he had taken much longer than you’d anticipated to finish off his second one.

The front door slams open all of a sudden, causing you to jump while Megumi’s visage slips into its usual aloofness, any prior hint of trepidation completely disappearing. You watch as Toji’s hulking form walks through the doorway and into the living space, and momentarily, relief washes through you too. In your few months of babysitting the Fushiguro's—in a bid to ease your undergraduate tuition fees—you’d quickly come to learn the dynamic between the two parents—Toji is the more carefree one, typically allowing the kids to do what they wanted, leading Hisano to be the stricter, more rule-abiding parent. And from the few times you’d been at their residence while the parents were home, either as they left for or returned from work, you’d known that that very dynamic had caused a multitude of arguments between them.

From the open plan design of the living space, Toji immediately spots you and Megumi in the small corner that is the dining room. Flinging his heavy bag onto the couch, he looks at Megumi and quirks his eyebrow.

“Whatcha still doing up, kid?” Toji questions.

“Wanted ice-cream,” Megumi deadpans.

Toji turns his gaze toward you, and instantly, another type of nervousness floods you. Briefly, his eyes rake over your form, and all of a sudden, you feel far too exposed in your short skirt. Toji’s gaze always feels predatory, a starving wolf stalking its prey; you shuffle from foot to foot under his heavy observance.

“Where’s Miki?” Toji questions. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and gnaw at it, Toji’s eyes immediately drawn to the gesture.

“She’s in bed,” you answer.

“Yer not s’pposed to have ice cream before bed, Megs,” Toji attempts to scold, turning back to Megumi. Nonetheless, from his nonchalant timbre, you know he doesn’t truly care. In fact, if the knowing smirk on his scarred lips, or the twinkle in his jade eyes, is anything to go by, he’s amused.

“Tsumiki had some too, I just had more,” Megumi rolls his eyes. You swallow thickly in an attempt to loosen your constricted throat before licking your lips.

“It’s my fault, Mr Fushiguro. I’m supposed to be looking after them and I shouldn’t have allowed them to have any ice cream. I also should have put Megumi to bed already,” you apologise with a slight bow of your head. Toji’s lips twist lazily, your skin pricking with heat at the wolfish grin that colours his visage.

Guilt gnaws at your insides, your stomach roiling when you feel the tell-tale heat of desire flare between your thighs. Here you were, caught red-handed disobeying two of the clear instructions from Hisano, yet turned on by—and insanely attracted to—the woman’s husband. There’s a special place in hell for you, you’re sure.

“‘T’s alright, doll,” Toji drawls.

You stiffen at the pet name, your stomach churning. Seldom does Toji call you by any form of endearment, though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice he only did it when his wife was nowhere to be found.

“What Hisano doesn’t know won't hurt her,” Toji continues.

You’re imagining it, you’re sure you are, but for a fraction of a second, you could swear that Toji’s voice is purposely lower, the already deep baritone gravelly with fervour.

“Can be our little secret, right Megs?” Toji grins, his gaze flicking back to his son.

In a rare display of affection, Megumi hops off the chair and runs to his father, hugging his leg tight. Toji stills, his eyes widening in the slightest. The gesture shocks you too, neither you nor Toji are used to witnessing such acts from Megumi. Usually, the boy was overtly ornery, in a way you didn’t think should be possible for a child so young.

Toji manages to pull himself together, awkwardly patting his son’s head. You can’t help but giggle at the way Megumi’s spiky hair sticks out between Toji’s fingers, his large hands almost dwarfing Megumi’s entire head.

“Take him to bed, will ya princess? Before this is no longer just our secret, yeah?” Toji says, looking over at you once again. Heat stains your cheeks when he winks at you. You avert your gaze, and instead, return your attention to Megumi.

“Come on, Gumi,” you call, holding your hand out for the little boy.

Megumi, as though realising what he’s done, hastily lets go of Toji’s leg, almost as if he’s been burned. His reaction has both you and Toji chuckling, Megumi’s countenance morphing into a scowl. You grin down at him and lead him to his bedroom. As you walk away, you feel the burning sensation of Toji’s tumultuous gaze.

Unabashed, Toji openly stares at your ass, relishing in the way the hem of your skirt brushes against the tops of your thighs. It’s just long enough to be considered decent, but Toji is also all too aware that if you leant forward in the slightest, he’d get a tantalising view of your lower ass cheeks. He can’t help the way his cock stirs, his mind envisioning the sight of you bent over in front of him, your skirt hiked up high as you look behind at him with your large, innocent eyes.

He knows it’s wrong, depraved, sinful, the way he fantasises of you on your knees, with tears in your eyes and his cock buried in your throat, the sounds you’d make when he makes you cum all over his tongue; the glassy, fucked-out look in your eyes when his cock first enters your cunt.

He knows he could make them a reality, knows from the way you sneak glances at him in the moments you think he’s not looking, knows from the nervousness that clouds your demeanour as you shy away from him; knows from the way he’s caught the almost—but not quite—imperceptible way you rub your thighs when he speaks.

Yes, Toji is convinced he could have you if he really wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to.

Once you’ve finally put Megumi to bed, you exit his bedroom and quietly shut his door. Back in the living space, you look around in confusion, a frown marring your face when Toji is nowhere to be seen.

“Mr Fushiguro?” You call out. When you receive no response, your frown deepens.

Momentarily, your eyes flicker to the master bedroom and, with trepidation churning in your stomach, you carefully approach the shut door. For a few seconds, you simply stare at the wooden surface. It’s not the first time you’ve been in the room Toji shares with Hisano—Tsumiki had once hid in her parents’ wardrobe while the three of you were playing hide and seek—and it’s not like you’ve been forbidden from entering—Hisano had been very welcoming when you’d met her the first time as her children’s babysitter.

Still, you’ve never been in the room when either Toji or Hisano were home. And knowing that Toji—a man you’ve secretly harboured illicit feelings for—could be behind the doors, doing god knows what, has your mind wandering to forbidden, lecherous territory.

“Mr Fushiguro, Megumi is asleep now so I’m leaving,” you call out as you knock on the door. You still receive no answer. Pulling your lip between the teeth, you chew on it before knocking once again.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call once more.

When you still do not receive an answer, you gather your courage and slowly open the door, peeking your head in. From the slight sliver, Toji is nowhere to be found once again. Your eyebrows knit together and, growing bolder, you push the door open wider and enter.

Instantly, you’re assaulted by the scent of Toji—a heavy, musky fragrance intertwined with fresh notes of citrus and earthen notes of pine. It’s laced with something more feminine, the hint of sweet florals overpowered by the raw, intoxicating masculinity that is Toji. You suck in a sharp breath, stifling a moan when you inadvertently breathe him deeper.

“Mr Fushiguro?” you call out to nothing, your voice dampened by a mix of your own lust and nerves.

Your eyes scan around the room, landing on the queen-sized bed that takes up the majority of the space. It shouldn’t, logically you know it shouldn’t, but the sight of Toji and Hisano’s shared bed has your stomach stirring in envy. Toji is Hisano’s husband, the stepfather of her daughter, the father of her stepson. You have no claim to him, no right to feel the inkling of jealousy that stains your being.

You know that, logically.

But the reality is, you are envious.

Toji may be married, to your employer no less—Hisano being the one who paid you your weekly fee—but that doesn’t stop the adulterous desire that floods your bloodstream at the thought of him. Doesn’t stop you from closing your eyes and imagining him—his fingers, his tongue, his cock—when you touch yourself every night before bed. Doesn’t stop you imagining him throwing you onto his bed, fucking you in the same place he sleeps with his wife.

It’s wrong. You know it is. But you can’t help it, the indecent, debauched way in which you crave him.

“Whatcha doing here, dollface?” Toji’s husky timbre breaks through your reverie. You jump, adrenaline surging through your veins as you whip around to face him.

You regret it instantly. Face to face with Toji, your mouth goes dry at his current, unexpected, state of dress.

Or well, undress.

He stands before you, clad in nothing but a black towel. Water drips from his hair onto his neck and, entranced, you follow their motion, your eyes inadvertently tracing the contours of his body: the thick knot of his Adam’s apple, the corded musculature of his shoulders, the hardened definition of his pectorals. Stray droplets trail further down, over his rigid abdomen and into the material that wraps around his slim hips. You stop there, your gaze honing in on his covered thighs and hidden shaft. Unwittingly, you swallow thickly.

“Whatcha doing here, princess?” Toji repeats. Shaken out of your stupor, your eyes snap to his.

“Megumi is a-asleep,” you begin, only to waver when Toji takes a deliberate step forward.

“Ah, the kids are all in bed?” Toji questions, his lips curling into a devilish smirk. The impossible low baritone of his voice rumbles through the air, each reverberation a live wire straight to your core. Clearing your throat, you inhale a deep, steadying breath.

“Y-Yes, so I’m leaving n-now.” You grimace internally when your voice falters once more. Toji’s smirk widens into a predatory grin, his eyes flashing with barely concealed desire.

“You sure that’s whatcha wanna do, dollface?” Toji questions.

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart thundering within the confines of your rib cage. Still, you somehow find it in yourself to nod.

“You sure?” he taunts.

“Y-Yes, Mr Fushiguro,” you reply. Against your better judgement, for the briefest moment, you glance at the towel wrapped around him, only for your sex to clench when you notice the tented material.

“Like what you see, baby?” Toji hums. The back of your neck prickles, the tips of your ears flushing with heat.

“N-No,” you stammer out, your voice hoarse.

“Hmm. I think you do,” Toji goads. He takes another step forward, your body instinctively taking one back.

“N-No,” you try to refute a second time. Your denial only has Toji laughing.

“Liar,” he sneers. The derisive way in which he spits out the word causes you to whimper, a gush of wetness leaking out of your pussy and into your quickly dampening panties. “You want me, I know you do,” comes Toji’s jeer.

Your hands turn clammy, a cold sweat sweeping through you. No. No, he couldn’t know.

He can’t know.

“I-I don’t,” you rebut. Toji takes another step forward and, on shaky knees, you take one back.

“You do**.** I’ve seen the way you look at me, seen the way those pretty thighs rub together every time I speak,” Toji admits.

Despair flushes through you at the revelation. You had tried your hardest to keep your attraction to the man hidden away. Though, it seemed like your best efforts had failed you. Toji knew**.**

“Dirty little girl, lusting after a man almost twice her age,” Toji gibes.

As he speaks, he deliberately saunters over to you, his entire disposition exuding imposing waves of smug dominance. With each step he closes the distance between you, your own feet moving on shaky limbs as you try to futilely widen it. Within short moments, however, the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. You don’t expect to come into contact with the bed frame and, with a surprised gasp, you fall over. Your back hits the mattress with a slight bounce, your eyes widening as you stare up at Toji’s looming figure.

Diopside eyes—tumultuous with unbridled hunger—rake over your figure, from your heaving chest, to your slightly parted thighs. Seeing the way your skirt rides up, a hint of lilac peeking through your thighs, Toji groans. One of his large, vascularised hands reaches out and drops to your thigh, the flesh flashing with heat under his touch. Languidly, his fingertips flit up your limb, until you feel the pads graze over your panty-clad sex.

“You always look so pretty in these short little skirts. You wore them for me, didn’t cha, doll? Wore them so you could tease me, flash me the barest hint of that cute ass and get me all riled up.” The knuckles of his fingers brush over the gusset of your underwear in long, teasing strokes, your clit viciously throbbing under his touch.

“Mr Fushiguro, w-we should stop,” you attempt to reason, desperately clinging onto your conscience. But mind addled by desire, the tethers of your morality quickly begin to fray. Against your better judgement, your thighs part further open, offering Toji’s fingers further access to your heated, dewy folds. The action has Toji’s eyes flashing; a hum of approval tremors through his chest.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby. Soaked through these cute panties,” Toji murmurs, his eyes dropping to the apex of your thighs.

Ravenous, he devours the sight of the darkening silk. Toji’s pupils dilate, his juniper irises blackening with fervid hunger at the wet patch, the darkened spot growing as your cunt drools your arousal. Fingers moving over it, your breath catches when you feel the tips of his digits press into your entrance.

“You wore these for me too, didn’t cha, princess?” Toji questions, his eyes flicking up to yours. Mesmerised by them—the vibrant hue having darkened to a deep shade of emerald—you find yourself swept away by their imperious undertow.

“M-Mr Fushiguro—” you begin. Toji tuts, a frown marring his face.

“It’s Toji, baby,” he interjects. Then, his frown morphing, he smirks at you, “Or Daddy, if you prefer.”

“Mr Fushiguro,” your emphasis on his surname is insistent, Toji only chuckling at your futile defiance. “You’re married,” you continue. You may be speaking to Toji, but the reminder is more for you than anything else. Toji has a wife and whatever this is, is wrong.

Toji disregards your statement with a simple, dismissive chuckle, “Do you know how hard you make my cock, huh, doll? How many times I’ve fucked my hand, my pocket pussy, my wife, imagining it was your tight, pretty little cunt instead?”

A scandalised gasp escapes you, your eyes widening at the admission. It’s wrong, the way your mind immediately flashes to how you have imagined the same—that it was Toji’s thick cock inside of you rather than your thin bullet vibrator. It’s immoral, the way your cunt viciously clenches, your wetness leaking out of you as your body practically yearns, weeps for him. It’s a sin, the way your morals willingly, and readily, crumble under Toji’s tenacious seduction.

“But your wife—” you begin, only for Toji to cut you off once more.

“What my wife doesn’t know, won’t hurt her, will it baby? Can be our little secret,” he repeats his words from earlier in the night. Though this time, the secret is heavier, less harmless. This time, it doesn’t cloak a meaningless broken rule. This time, it conceals an illicit affair, one that you know could break a marriage.

“T-Toji, we shouldn’t,” you attempt one last rebuff. Your voice is as weak as your protest, and from the use of his first name, Toji knows he’s won.

“But you want to, don’t you, baby?” Toji coaxes. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you chew on it as you avert your gaze. Then, you nod your head.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper. Your concession is barely audible, your words just a decibel above a whisper. Nonetheless, in the silence of the night, Toji hears it clearly. A triumphant smirk crawls onto his lips, his eyes flashing with victory.

“Yes, what, baby?” Toji urges. Hesitancy floods your eyes and you release your lower lip, choosing to gnaw at the flesh of your inner cheek instead.

“Yes, Daddy,” you quietly answer, shyly looking at him through the thick of your lashes.

“Fuck, you’re a sin, baby,” Toji swears.

In an instant, Toji pounces on you.

You barely have time to think straight as you feel the dip on either side of your hips, Toji’s hulking body caging yours. Gripping your chin in one hand, he angles your face to look at him, and then, his lips descend onto yours. He’s rough and bruising, your eyes slipping shut as you moan into him. Without any warning, his teeth bite down on the swollen fold of your lower lip, causing you to gasp out. Toji uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The silky appendage glides inside your mouth, curling and twisting in frenzied motions as it lashes against your tongue. Spice fills your mouth, his flavour coats your taste buds and you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation that is Toji’s kiss. He’s voracious, dominating you in a way only he could, his mouth ferocious as it moves over your own. With a few moments, however, your lungs blaze with the need for oxygen and, with a gasp, you tear your lips away from him. Undeterred, Toji kisses his way along your jaw and towards the bottom of your ear, suckling the supple flesh.

“Toji—Fuck,” you mew, your hands curling into his shirt.

“Uh-uh. It’s Daddy now, dollface,” Toji tuts. Fervent fingertips skim up your body, goosebumps prickling under your flesh from the touch, before Toji grips your shirt and divests it off of you. Seeing your bare tits come into view, he quirks an eyebrow.

“No bra? You were practically begging for it, weren’t ya, princess? Wanted me to see these little nipple sticking out your clothes when you’re wet and horny for me, didn’t cha?” Toji belittles. You cower from his gaze and seeing your bashfulness, Toji snickers.

Shifting above you, Toji grips the hem of your skirt before pulling it down your body, haphazardly flinging it onto the floor. He climbs back onto the bed, your thighs reflexively spreading to accommodate him. Left in nothing but your panties, Toji’s eyes deliberately rove over your body and he growls in approval at the lilac undergarment.

“And you definitely wore this for me, didn’t ya, baby?” Toji questions once again, a playful lilt in his voice. You swallow thickly and nod your head, heat flushing across your face.

“Yes,” you whisper, confirming his suspicion.

“Dirty girl, bet you wanted me to fuck you since the day you started babysitting my kids, huh?” Toji taunts. You avert your gaze once again before nodding shyly. “God, you’re fucking filthy. Is this what you wanted?” He unravels the towel from around his waist, leaving him naked.

His cock springs up with a little bounce, your throat drying as it comes into view. You’d always known Toji would be large just from his enormous, bulky physique and you’d spent countless nights imagining just how big he’d be, how he’d stretch you out with a delicious burn. But face to face with it, you realise he’s nowhere close to your imagination. He’s just a little longer the average, the tip sitting a little under his belly button, but it’s his girth that really has your eyes widening. He’s thick, impossibly and absurdly thick, almost the same width as your wrist.

Swallowing thickly, you look up at him, a hint of fear occulting the wanton desire that hazes your eyes. “I-It’s not going to fit,” you stammer.

Toji chuckles mockingly, “It’ll fit doll, I’ll make sure it does.”

The threat is barely concealed, and though it should terrify you, it doesn’t. Rather, your stomach roils with salacious hunger, another gush of wetness leaking out of your cunt. Spreading your thighs further apart, Toji pushes his hips to yours, your eyes rolling back when you feel his pulsating member press flush against your core.

“Fuck! Daddy,” you moan, feeling him grind his hard shaft into your pussy.

The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing and you feel him, hot and pulsing, through the material. Instinctively, you begin grinding back into him, your hips writhing together in frantic movements while you lose yourselves into pleasure.

“You’re so fucking hot and—fuck—wet,” Toji gasps out.

His hands curl into your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he pushes his cock harder into you. Precum drips out of his cockhead, the translucent substance saturating into your underwear and mixing with your own juices. When the blunt tip grazes against your throbbing clit, your spine curves off of the bed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. Reflexively, your hips buck, the movement forcing your core harder against him.

“Fuck yes, baby. Just like that. So fucking wet and needy. Shit—ha—so wet, can feel you soak my cock through those cute little panties,” Toji exhales heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly.

“T-Toji,” you whine.

In one fell swoop, Toji’s head dips down. His lips wrap around your nipple, before he bites down harshly, roughly tugging the hardening bud with his teeth. The action tears a cry from your throat, tears stinging your eyes at the pain.

“What did I say, naughty girl? It’s Daddy,” Toji reprimands.

“D-Daddy,” you gasp, your face flushing with heat. Toji bites down once again, your chest automatically pushing up into his face at the sudden pain that flares around your breast.

Toji smirks, “You like when I bite these pretty nipples, huh doll?” His voice reverberates against your skin, a mew spilling from your lips.

He presses the flat of his tongue just under your nipple before laving up in one, long lick. The wet appendage strokes the indurated bud, causing it to twist—almost painfully—harder while you groan under him. You’re so wet now that your panties uncomfortably stick to your folds, the material sodden with a mix of both yours and Toji’s arousal.

“Pretty little baby, you make the sweetest sounds,” Toji coos whilst rolling your nipple between your teeth. Then, with a final, harsh bite, he releases the bud. “Wanna hear more of ‘em.” The murmuration of Toji’s vibrato against your tit has a shiver running down your spine.

Toji begins crawling his way down your body, stopping intermittently to press his lips against you. With each kiss, he bites and sucks your skin harshly, each one blooming mauve bruises over your flesh. He traces his way over your torso, from your sternum, to your abdomen, to your hips. Arriving at them, Toji’s fingertips bury into the swells, his teeth harshly tugging the skin of your left pelvis into his mouth. Sucking and biting hard, he leaves a particularly large hickey, only to pull away and admire his handiwork.

“Mmm—Look so pretty, all marked up by me. Gonna walk around campus with them, aren’t ya, princess? Let everyone know you’re a filthy little whore who got fucked by a married, older man,” Toji disparages.

It’s wrong, god you know it’s wrong, but you can’t help the way you nod your head eagerly, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a good little girl. Spread your legs, baby, show Daddy how wet your pussy is for me,” Toji cajoles.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you do as he asks. Laying your feet flat on the bed, your toes curl into the sheets as you bend your knees and splay your thighs further apart. Your obedience has Toji’s chest rumbling with appreciation, his eyes dropping to your cunt. Ardent gaze sweeping over your it, he takes in every inch of the panty-clad, sodden folds. Unable to help himself, he inhales deeply, his pupils dilating when the heady scent of your arousal clouds his senses.

“Fucking hell. You’re so wet I can smell you,” he growls.

The lewdness of his words has a muted squeak escaping your mouth. The heat of embarrassment claws its way up from your throat to the tip of your ears, and suddenly conscious under his gaze, you try to close your thighs. Nonetheless, before you can do so, Toji spots the movement. His large hands drop to your thighs, and pinning them down under his strength, he lets out a low growl of warning. The sound rumbles through the air and straight to your core, a gush of wetness leaking out of you.

“Try that again, dollface, and I’ll have you over my knee,” Toji threatens. You moan in response, your hips bucking into him at the thought. Seeing your reaction, a derisive smirk curls onto Toji’s scarred lips, “Like that, do you? Dirty little girl.”

Under the harshness of his words, lies a hint of affection that causes your stomach to twist, butterflies fluttering through the pits.

“D-Daddy,” you raggedly exhale, your eyes pleading with him.

“Mmm, now let Daddy see his baby’s pretty little cunt,” Toji coaxes. With that, he hooks his pointer finger under the gusset of your sodden underwear, a wet squelch filling the air. The sound has him groaning, and in one motion, he tugs hard. Instantly, the material tears, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the air.

“Ah—Toji,” you gasp, your eyes widening as you watch him carelessly throw the tattered scraps of material onto the bed. Toji pays no attention to the reprimanding tone in your voice. Rather, his gaze is fixated on your pussy, his pupils dilating when he sees your drenched sex, the folds saturated with your juices.

“Fuck, princess. You’re already so sloppy and Daddy’s not even done anything yet.”

As he speaks, Toji presses his fingers against your folds, and then splaying his digits in a ‘V’, he spreads your cunt open wider. Then, using his free hand, he explores your sex: tracing the outline of your engorged, throbbing clit, down the glistening folds of your pussy, and towards the leaking rings of muscle that make up your entrance. Continually repeating the motions, he strokes his digits through your cunt, wetting the lengths in your arousal.

The teasing motions of Toji’s feathery touch as he plays with your cunt slowly drives you wild, pleasure coiling within your womb. With each stroke of his fingers, thick, filmy ropes of your juices cling to his digits, the strings thinning as he pulls them away. With rapt fascination, Toji watches as they snap, splashing back onto your drenched hole. When he’s sufficiently coated his fingers in your wetness, he slowly pulls away. Raising his slick fingers to his face, Toji’s eyes glint with mischief.

“Such a wet little pussy, you’ve soaked my fingers too, baby,” Toji purrs, unable to hide the glee in his voice. Lifting his hand up, he brings it over to your mouth. The pads of his fingertips brush against them, coating your lips in a thin sheen of your own arousal.

“Taste how needy you are. Suck,” he commands.

Instantly, you obey.

Slowly, your lips part open, only to wrap around his pointer and middle finger. Keeping your gaze locked on his, you begin to suckle. Your tongue swirls around his digits, and hollowing out your cheeks, the lengths press against your warm flesh. The vacuum-like suction has Toji moaning in appreciation.

“Such a good little bitch for me,” Toji praises. His fingers retreat from your mouth with a pop and instead, his hands drop to rest on your thighs once more.

Tongue darting out, Toji licks a broad line up through your folds, from your pulsating hole all the way to your throbbing clit. Your arousal coats the hollow of his tongue, the heady essence glazing his palate. Soft groan rumbling from within his chest, Toji presses the silken appendage flat onto your sex, relishing in the juices that spill from your cunt and onto his palate.

“Fuck, knew you’d taste sweet,” Toji mutters. As his cool breath fans across your heated folds, a shiver runs down your spine. Swiping his tongue through your cunt once more, he savours your taste with a low groan, “Knew you’d be sweeter than my wife.” His words reverberate through your clit, the vibrations sending sparks of electric pleasure up your nerves.

“D-Daddy,” you mew with a stutter.

Emboldened, he presses two of his sticky digits against your dewy lips and once more parts them. Splaying your cunt under the motion, he bares your throbbing clit and quivering hole to his view once again, watching the way they pulse.

“Awww, look how wet and swollen your needy little cunt is,” he hums. With how close he is to your pussy, each word he utters causes his scarred lips to teasingly graze against your tumescent bundle of nerves.

Breath turning ragged, your fingers card into his raven tresses, entangling them at his roots. Gripping his hair, you attempt to pull him further into your cunt, your hips simultaneously bucking into his face. Toji chuckles and wraps his lips around your clit before he lightly suckles the engorged bud. Fingers tightening in his hair, you tug his head once again, and encouraged by the action, Toji circles your clit with agile strokes. Head digging into the mattress, your back arches at the ministration, a shallow gasp escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, please,” you moan, the hollow sound resonating through the air.

Without warning, Toji points his tongue and begins tracing the outline of your sex: around your bundle of nerves, down the petals of your folds, and towards the honeyed entrance of your pussy. Skin flashing, heat prickles over your skin, your blood boiling as he begins tonguing the trembling ring of your cunt in languid strokes. Suddenly, he flattens his tongue against the hole, and with a broad swipe, he licks all the way up to your clit. Whorling his silken appendage around the bud, he wraps his plump lips around it and bites down on the swollen bundle. The sudden pleasure has you shrieking out his name, the words coming out louder, and higher pitched, than you’d intended.

Toji pulls away from you and “Be quiet, princess. Or you’ll wake my kids,” he warns.

Moving to enclose his lips around your engorged bud once again, his tongue lashes against your clit repeatedly, his teeth occasionally against it and causing you to croon his name. Under his ministrations, the walls of your core clench painfully, emphasising the emptiness between them.

“Please, Daddy m-more,” you beg, your hips rocking against him.

Toji releases your clit at your plea, and with one hand still splaying your folds open, he uses the other to trace the slick, twitching opening; your breath hitches in response. Lightly dipping the tip of his pointer finger into you, “Is this what you want, dollface?” he asks with a mocking coo.

Feeling the infuriatingly subtle stretch, you frantically nod your head. Unimpressed with your answer, however, Toji’s fingers move to roughly pinch your clit.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands. Pain coalesces with ecstasy at the harsh action, the juxtaposing sensations setting your nerves afire. Liquid lust surges through your abdomen, the sear of pleasure that swirls in your stomach making you cry out with need.

“W-Want your fingers,” comes your pitiful response, your eyes stinging with tears.

“That’s my pretty baby,” Toji praises. With that, he plunges one finger hilt deep into you. Feeling the sudden stretch, your eyes snap open. A strangled moan of pleasure rips from your throat, the sound morphing into a low mewl when he begins twisting the length inside of you. Back arching at the sensation, you cry out his name.

Suddenly spanking your pussy, “I said quiet,” he seethes with a hiss. Pulling his finger out, Toji plunges it back inside, revelling in the way your slick, pliant walls cling to his digit.

“Fuck, this is such a tight cunt,” he groans.

Curling his digit into you, he explores his finger through your slick, velvet walls, and when a jagged moan emanates from your lips, he knows he’s found what he’s looking for. Pads of his fingertip pressing flat against the spongy tissues, he wiggles his finger against your sweet spot.

“O-Oh god,” you shakily breathe out, your eyes fluttering open and shut. Molten pleasure intensifies into a blistering heat within the pit of your stomach and, thighs beginning to shake on either side of his head, your breath turns ragged.

“P-Please,” you choke out.

“Yeah, you like that, pretty baby? Like when Daddy fingers this tiny little hole?” he hums, the deceptively sweet intonation hiding the dark, imperious undertow of his voice.

You open your mouth to respond, only for the words to morph into a garbled cry when Toji pushes his finger deeper into you. Slowly, he begins pistoning the digit into you, the strokes slow and deep. With each thrust, his finger drags against your g-spot, causing ecstasy to blur your vision.

“Daddy, p-please! Wanna—ha—make me—ah!” Your pleas are choked, each broken by a breathy moan.

Despite your best efforts to articulate your wants, Toji’s incessant fingers make it impossible for you to form coherent sentences. On the cusp of your approaching orgasm, ecstasy burns through your bloodstream. As the rattling of your thighs intensifies beside him, however, Toji is abruptly pulling his drenched finger out of you.

Distraught over the sudden retreat of his digits, “N-No,” you cry, your hips wildly thrashing under him as you pitifully attempt to chase his hands. Painfully, your walls clench around nothing, and feeling your growing orgasm start to subside, tears mist your eyes.

“Quiet,” Toji hisses, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Under him, you heave for air, your eyes screwing shut as you shake your head and thrust your hips into his face.

“Wanna cum. Daddy, please, wanna cum,” you sob.

His scarred lips twist into a sardonic smirk before Toji spanks your cunt once more. The moment his hand meets the soaked flesh of your cunt, a wet slap echoes through the air. Toes curling at the harsh impact, you sob dryly.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you,” he threatens.

As he speaks, he repeatedly brings the palm of his hand down onto your tumid clit, and with each slap, your cunt clenches around nothing. Nerves electrified from his spanks, your hands fall from his hair and down to the mattress beside you. Your fingers twist into the sheets, your frustration building as you grow delirious from his action. Every impact of his hand has your pussy contracting around nothing, your walls weeping to be filled. With garbled sobs, you moan unintelligibly.

“Daddy—” you begin to wail, only to be cut off when Toji stuffs your tattered panties into your mouth.

Eyes widening as you feel the satin gag, your hand moves to pull it down. Instantly, Toji brings his hand onto your cunt, this time, harder than his previous ones. Pain blends with pleasure and, clit smarting under the impact, you screech. Nevertheless, muffled by the underwear gagging your mouth, the sound comes out inarticulate.

“Be a good little girl for Daddy and keep that in, yeah baby? If you do, Daddy’ll let ya scream as much as you want, princess,” he smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. Muffled whimper dissipating from your throat, your hand drops back to the ground, and you look at him through large, pleading eyes. Seeing the obedience in your tear-misted eyes, Toji coos, “That’s my good girl.”

With that, he dips his head back to your cunt. In a fluid motion, he pushes his slick digit back into you, though this time, it’s followed by a second. The girth of the two fingers stretches out your pliant walls, an euphoric sear thrumming through your flesh. Feeling the way he spreads your cunt open, Toji groans in pleasure.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a tiny, little cunt, princess. Daddy can’t wait to stretch it. Fuck it open. Leave it gaping with my cum,” Toji groans. Each sentiment is emphasised by a thrust of his fingers, the digits expertly stroking your sweet spot. You nod your head eagerly.

“You like that doll? Yeah, I know you do. Mmm, you’re so small… but that greedy little hole will take my cock whole, won’t it baby? You’ll take my fat dick better than my wife ever has, won’t you?” Toji mocks.

As he speaks, he spreads the fingers inside of you and opens your entrance for him. You moan at the stretch, but before you can register what’s happening, Toji plunges his stiff tongue inside of you. Eyes widening, you wail in pleasure at the sudden penetration, your spine contorting off of the ground. Frantically, you writhe your hips against his face, Toji furiously plunging his tongue into you over and over again.

“That’s it princess, ride Daddy’s face,” Toji urges, the words reverberating through your cunt. He presses further into your sex and, tongue swirling inside of you, he laps at your sodden, trembling muscles.

Ecstasy ripples across your nerves, your breath turning ragged. Lifting your shaky hands, you bury them into his thick tresses once again as your eyes roll back at his ministrations. With each contraction of your walls, you drip over his mouth, your wetness leaking thickly over his tongue and straight down his chin. Despite the messiness, however, like a beast starved, Toji drinks you up, his tongue vehemently lapping against your inner walls.

“Fuck you taste so good. This sweet cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it doll? Yeah. I know it does. Can feel you drip like a whore all over my tongue,” Toji taunts. Between the way he’s buried between your thighs, and your pleasure-blurred vision, you can’t see Toji's face. Nonetheless, you feel the way he smirks into your pussy.

Feeling the tell-tale signs of your approaching orgasm, you press your shoulders flat into the bed, and bracing your weight on them, you lift your hips and push them further into his face. At the action, Toji groans against your sex and the vibrations cause you to wildly buck into him. In response, he curls the two fingers inside of you, moving them in tandem to his tongue—all three appendages thrusting into you over and over again. Stomach quivering in pleasure, you feel your skin flash with heat.

“Toji, wanna cum,” you plead. Though, thanks to your makeshift gag, the words come out muffled and indecipherable. Still, from your ragged breath and the vice-like, erratic grip of your cunt—the silken walls practically milking his tongue—Toji knows you’re close.

“Hmmm? What’s that, baby doll? Daddy can’t understand you,” Toji taunts as he pulls away from your cunt.

A garble of displeasure emanates from your throat and your eyes screw shut as you let out a sob. Keeping his fingers inside of you, Toji languidly thrusts them in and out of you. Immediately, your quickly building orgasm slows, though, it doesn’t completely disappear. Rather, with his fingers languorously dragging over every one of your inner erogenous zones, he draws out your impending pleasure.

“My pretty little baby wants to cum?” he mocks, his eyes flashing in mirth.

A hand moves to lay the side of his thumb flat against your pulsating clit before Toji begins stroking the bud. Repetitively, it grazes your bundle of nerves and as he rolls it under the pad, your pleasure is intensified.

The additional sensation causes you to cry out—the sound swallowed by the panties gagging your mouth—as your skin prickles with spikes of white-hot pleasure. Jaw slackening, you attempt to swallow in a bid to lubricate your dry throat. However, with the cotton of your underwear soaking up all your spit, all you manage to do is choke. Instead, with a frantic nod, you wordlessly answer him, your hips desperately squirming against his hand as you try to quicken his pace.

Haze of euphoria clouding your mind, you struggle to form any cohesive thoughts as you lose yourself in your growing orgasm. Above you, Toji lets out a hum of thought, his fingers slowing down even further. Frustration wells up inside of you, and tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, you sob out his name—your mouth dry from the panties soaking up your spit—as you look up at him with an imploring gaze.

“Yeah, baby doll? Wanna cum?” he questions, a dark, predatory smirk tugging at his lips.

“P-Please,” comes your suppressed mew, the tears finally spilling from your eyes and down your cheeks. Cooing at the desperate, undone sight of you, Toji’s smirk broadens.

“Awww, look at my baby doll, crying for Daddy to make her cum,” Toji hums. Then, head dropping back to your cunt, “Cum, then. Cum for Daddy,” he commands. As he speaks, the two fingers buried inside of you curl to press against your sweet spot, and simultaneously, he wraps his mouth around your clit before sucking hard.

With his fingers plunging in and out of you vehemently, and his lips sucking harshly at your clit, Toji all of a sudden forces you off of the edge of your orgasm and straight into pleasure. Spine contorting, your head and hips dig into the mattress, while your back arches off of it. Instantly, your muscles lock, a muffled wail ripping out of your lungs as you cry out his name. Wave after wave of euphoria crashes over you, and under the sweeping tide of your orgasm, you drown in rapturous bliss. Thighs viciously trembling on either side of his face, you writhe and squirm under Toji, your hips wildly bucking into his face as ecstasy consumes you.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it, princess. Such a good little girl, cumming all over Daddy’s fingers,” Toji praises, your walls clamping around his fingers.

Through your orgasm, Toji refuses to pull away from your pussy. Rather, he increases the intensity of his actions. His tongue lashes against your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your cunt. Pain of overstimulation gripping your over-sensitised sex, tears stream down your face as Toji nibbles on your clit, drawing out your orgasm.

Through your foggy mind—the euphoric fog of your orgasm eclipsing your mind—you vaguely register the pain that flitters through you, and thighs snapping shut, you attempt to stop him. Simultaneously, your hands move to push against his head. Nonetheless, with his head trapped by your thighs, and Toji’s own strength, he barely budges.

“Ah—Mmmm—Hnnn,” you groan inarticulately. When he strokes the pads of his fingertips over your g-spot, you sob in pleasure. The loosened knot of euphoria in your stomach tightens, and midst your orgasm, something begins building up deep within the pits of your abdomen.

Unceasingly, Toji suckles at your throbbing clit with his scarred lips and pushing his fingers further into you, he purposely drags his fingers over your sweet-spot once more, causing you to howl in pleasure. His actions cause your nerves to flare with electricity, a searing sensation surging through your bloodstream, and under the overwhelming, unadulterated pleasure, your entire body begins to tremble.

Out of the blue, Toji bites down on your clit, and jolts of pain sparking up the bundle of nerves, you immediately screech. Pain blends with pleasure, white-spots blinding your vision. Abruptly, the knot within your stomach unravels and, sudden relief flushing through your abdomen, you’re forced over the precipice of blissful ecstasy once again. Jaw slackening, your mouth falls open and your throat strains as you force out a silent cry. Your walls tighten without warning around Toji’s fingers, the forceful contractions causing pelt after pelt of your cum to squirt out of you.

“Fucking hell,” Toji mutters, his eyes widening as he feels you gush around his fingers. Thick, filmy rivers of your essence spray out of you onto his fingers and face, before splashing onto his mattress. Seeing the way your cum soaks into the sheet, Toji snickers, “Oh you’re filthy, aren’t you, baby doll? Look at you, you’ve soaked the sheets.”

“Mpf—” you try to respond, your tongue fighting against the gag to form intelligible words.

Gasping for air, your muscles erratically twitch from the sheer force of your orgasm. As your eyes flutter open, the white-spots fade, though, unshed tears still blur your vision. Taking pity on you, Toji pulls the panties from your mouth and instead throws it onto the floor. With your mouth finally free from the gag, you purposely gather spit in your mouth and swallow thickly—in a bid to soothe your dry throat.

Gaze dropping to Toji, the heat of embarrassment tinges your cheeks at the way his broad chest glistens—his skin glazed in your cum. Letting a high-pitched whine out, you bashfully look away. Sensing your humiliation, Toji chuckles.

“Look at the mess you made, princess. What am I going to tell my wife, huh? That our naughty little babysitter drenched the sheets with her cum? That it was my fingers and tongue that made her do it, hmm?” he taunts.

Each word drips out his mouth like viscous honey, each sentiment rife with lust and carnality. The mention of his wife causes your morals to voice themselves once more. Nonetheless, you’re far too inebriated by his seduction, the weak voice of your conscience stifled by your blistering desire. You gulp audibly. In the way you’re enticed—easily tempted—by him, he’s the devil himself, you’re sure of it. Yet, even with the dark edge of his intonation, you can’t help but want to give in to the hedonistic, sinful euphoria he promises.

“Please, Daddy,” comes your plea, your wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him. Heeding your words, Toji crawls up your body, your thighs spreading further apart as he settles between them.

Gripping the base of his shaft with one hand, Toji angles it towards your entrance and smacks the bulbous head against it. A loud, wet smack resonates through the air, and feeling the heavy weight of his cockhead against your wet cunt, you whine in need. Flexing his hips, slides the entire length of his cock through your slit. Your slick lips spread onto the underside of his thick girth, and with each stroke, the prominent seam of his cockhead drags against your hardened clit, causing you to moan.

“Is this what you want, princess?” Toji questions, his voice deceptively sweet.

You nod your head eagerly, “Yes, please. Please.”

“Look at you. Daddy’s pretty little baby doll. So fucked out and needy for my cock,” Toji smirks predatorily, his teeth peeking through the seam of his lips.

Jade eyes—tempestuous with hunger—lock onto your own and, while holding your stare, Toji drags his cock down your folds in one long stroke, before pressing the head at your fluttering entrance. As the crown of his bulbous cockhead pushes against your ringed entrance, you both moan. Turning his attention down to your drenched folds, Toji hisses when he spots the way your honeyed hole twitches.

“Such a small, wet, little cunt,” Toji groans. Gripping his cock tighter, he circles the head around your hole, “Fuck dollface, look at how tiny your cunt is compared to my cock. I don’t think it’s going to fit,” he chuckles.

Derision is heavy in his tone, and despite the clear taunt, you frantically shake your head. “It’ll fit, please Daddy, want you,” you whine, your hips thrusting to take him into you.

“Yeah, dollface? Think ya can take Daddy’s cock?” Toji taunts.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble.

“Yeah, baby? Think that tight cunt can fit my fat cock? Think ya can take it better than my wife?” he jeers. Your pussy clenches, the empty ache between your thighs close to torturous. Eyes welling with tears, you sob.

“I can! I can. Please, Daddy. Please,” comes your soughed pleas. Toji snickers at the desperation in your voice, one of his thumbs moving to brush a tear from your cheek.

“Ha—yer such a whore, princess, crying for my cock like this,” Toji mocks. He raises his thumb to his lips, his tongue poking out to lick the tear away. “Daddy’s pretty, needy little cockslut,” he derides.

“Daaaady,” you whine, your hips writing into his. With a wry grin, Toji begins pressing the crown of his cock against your sopping hole. A dull pressure builds up against your cunt, your eyes widening as a whimper slips through your lips at the sensation.

“Fuck. Yer gonna be so tight, princess. Have you ever had a cock this big, doll?” Toji questions. Though, from the cocky inflexion of his voice, you know he knows you haven’t.

“N-No, Daddy,” you stammer, your voice higher than you’d intended.

Your cunt is dripping, sloppy with your cum, and as such, Toji should slide easily into your entrance. Nonetheless, he struggles to thrust his head into you, his thick girth causing the taut muscles of your pussy to protest the stretch.

“Of course you haven’t, baby doll. Bet no one’s fucked this cunt open the way I’m going to,” he chuckles arrogantly. For a moment, your eyes flutter shut. Instantly, the hand wrapped around his cock moves to grip the delicate column of your neck and, fingertips squeezing against the side, he chokes you.

“Look at me. Want ya to watch as Daddy ruins this tiny hole,” he sibilates.

With a whimper, your eyes snap open and catch his stare. And in that exact moment, Toji thrusts harshly.

The force of his movement causes the mushroom-tip of his cockhead to squeeze into you with a sudden pop. Spine twisting, a dry sob tears from your throat as your back arches. Thick tears track down your cheeks, pleasure and pain surging through your body.

“D-Daddy,” you cry, the sound broken by a hiccup.

A searing ache burns ripples through your tight cunt, the ringed muscles smarting as they strain around Toji’s indurated, unforgiving shaft. Nevertheless, even through the agonising burn, an intoxicating undercurrent of pleasure thrums through you—pure ecstasy cutting the pain of your pussy being split apart by his girth.

“Fuck—Ya so pretty like this baby; crying as my cock ruins yer tiny, wet hole,” he groans.

The fingers around your throat flex, squeezing your neck firmer as he begins pushing his cock further into you. Inch by heavy, agonising inch, his unyielding hardness spears into your cunt, the thick girth of his cock pulling apart your walls. When he’s around half way into you, you let out a strangled cry, the torturous ecstasy overwhelming you. Your hands shoot out to clutch his muscular shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh.

“F-Fuck, Daddy—h-huge,” you hiccup.

Toji coos sardonically, “Still think ya can take it, princess? Hmmm? Can this sweet little cunt handle my cock?”

Your nails rake down to his pecks, leaving angry, red welts in their wake and, “Daddy,” you slur, your brain too electrified with euphoria to articulate a single sentence.

“Ha. Already fucked ya dumb, have I?” Toji ridicules.

Without a warning, his hips plunge forward. The action causes the final few inches of his cock into you, the length bottoming out to the hilt. The sudden movement has you howling, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Against your will, your cunt ripples around his cock, your inner muscles contracting and clenching around his unrelenting shaft in a bid to force out the thick intrusion. Nonetheless, with Toji’s hips pressing firmly against yours, the clamping only massages his cock. With his cock completely buried inside you now—his balls pressing flush against your wet sex—Toji halts, the hold on your throat slackening.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight. Fuck—sweetest pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he moans, luxuriating in the silken grip of your cunt, his head falling back as it pulses around his cock.

Toji takes in the expression of agonised euphoria that paints your visage. Your eyes are glassy behind half-lids, your jaw slackened—a little bit of drool spilling out—as you pant under him. With each laboured breath, you whimper, your smarting walls stretched to their limit as you try to get used to his size. With wide blinks, you look up at him through tear-stained lashes.

“B-Better than your wife?” you ask, your voice breathless and higher pitched than you’d anticipated.

Toji groans at your words, his hips retreating before snapping back into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

“Dirty whore. Yer so naughty. But fuck—yeah, yeah,” comes his breathy response. “Even better than my wife. You’ve got the tightest, wettest cunt, princess. Such a good slut for me, taking my dick so good. Fuucckkk—” Toji groans out, each sentiment emphasised by a hard thrust.

“H-Hurts,” you whine, your palms pressing against his defined pectorals.

“Yeah? Fuck, bet it does. You’re so tight. But ya love it, don’t you dollface? Love how my cock’s fucking your tiny pussy open,” he jeers. In response, Toji’s grip on your throat tightens once more, his strength pinning you down and using his grip as an anchor as he fucks into you.

Your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts, the soft mounds bounding in little circles as he uses your pussy like a fleshlight. All of a sudden, his hand moves from your throat to paw at your tits. Moaning out, you mewl as he roughly palms at the flesh, rolling and massaging it in his large hand, his thumb mindlessly tweaking the hardened nipple.

“Hnn, yeah, Daddy,” you pant.

He swivels his hips, your spine twisting off of the bed as you feel his cockhead drag against your sweet-spot before battering into your cervix. With each and every one of his thrusts, his thick shaft opens up your walls, the velvet hardness stimulating every erogenous zone and setting your nerves afire with pleasure. Hoarse cries of ecstasy tear from your throat, his cock vehemently surging into you over and over again.

“Yeah? Yeah. Fuck, know you do princess. Can feel ya greedy little hole swallowing me,” he groans.

“Ha—Daddy,” you breathily mew.

Toji can’t help but chuckle, “That all you know now, baby doll? Huh? Only Daddy’s name?”

Somehow, you feel his pace increase, and suddenly, he’s jackhammering into you. You bounce under his cock, your body jerked up and down the mattress from the powerful force of his thrusts. Your hands move from his chest, your arms circling around his shoulders as your legs wrap around his waist, clinging onto him. The position pushes Toji deeper into you, your eyes rolling back once more as you feel his cockhead bruisingly smack against the back walls of your cunt. A throbbing pain begins intensifying deep within your womb.

“T-Too much. Too much. Daddy—deep. Too deep,” you cry. Despite your words, however, Toji continues rutting into you as he chases his own pleasure.

“Be Daddy’s good slut and take it,” Toji urges in retaliation. Feeling your walls erratically clamp around him, his chest rumbles with a groan. As his own balls start to clench, his shaft beginning to viciously throb inside of you, “Fuck. Fuck, yer so fucking tight, Princess. Gonna cum soon. You on birth control?” he questions.

“N-No,” you stutter out with a shake of your head.

“Fuck, yer gonna get impregnated tonight then, baby doll. No way Daddy’s gonna pull out a pussy this good,” Toji hisses in pleasure. Wired beyond belief, the implications and consequences of his words are lost on you. Rather, the thought of him cumming deep inside you only sets your nerves on fire, unbridled ecstasy coursing through your veins.

“P-Please,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you want that? Want my cum to fill up your fertile little womb?” Toji asks, his words punctuated by deep, hard plunges. The blunt head of his cock batters against the supple walls of your cervix, a dull ache forming within your womb and hips from the unforgiving power of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, please Daddy. Cum in me,” you urge, your tongue loosened by euphoria as your brain hazes with pleasure. Hearing your response, Toji chuckles, the dark sound reverberating through the air. Lowering his chest, his lips brush over your ear.

“Yeah? Wasn’t enough to babysit my kids was it, doll? You wanna have ‘em now too?” Toji growls out; punctuating his words with a sharp thrust. Feeling him surge in deeper, you sob in ecstasy; euphoric tears stinging at your eyes as you feel intense, unadulterated bliss course through your veins. Your nails rake over his flesh, each leaving deep welts all over his shoulders and chest.

“Please—Fuck, Daddy, please,” you plead. Toji chuckles once again.

“What are we gonna tell my wife, huh baby? That I fucked your tight little cunt in our bed? That yer pussy was so good, so fucking tight, that I had no choice but to cum inside? That yer cunt is better than hers and so I had to put a baby inside?” Toji mocks, a blatant taunt tainting his gravelly voice.

“Hnnn—Daddy,” you gasp.

Feeling the way your thighs tremble on either side of his hips, one of Toji’s hands slips between your thighs and, cupping your sex, he presses his thumb to your clit. Electric ecstasy jolts through you, and with the additional stimulation, you climb higher and higher towards the crux of your climax. Your thighs quake vehemently, white-hot heat jolting up your spine as you feel your orgasm tear through you.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy,” Toji urges, punctuating his command with a well placed thrust. Unable to hold back, a strangled cry escapes from your throat as you cum around Toji’s cock.

Erratically, the walls of your cunt contract around Toji, and feeling your silken pussy constrict over his shaft, he snarls, his pace picking up. His cock surges ferociously into you, every thrust drawing out your orgasm and forcing endless wave after endless wave of ecstasy to flood your being. As your walls ripples over his cock, Toji feels his own end draw near.

“Oh fuck, yer pretty cunt’s milking my cock, doll. Fuck—gonna cum,” Toji groans, his furious rhythm becoming stuttered. Instinctively, your legs move to wrap around your Toji’s narrow waist, and hooking your ankles together, you lock his body between yours.

“C-Cum inside, Daddy,” you force out, the words strained as they escape your raw throat.

“Oh fuck,” Toji groans, his own orgasm surging through him.

Abruptly, his hips drive forward, Toji burying himself as deep into your cunt as physically possible, before he grinds into you. Rope after rope of his thick cum shoots out of his cock and against your supple cervix, flooding your gummy walls and painting them white in his essence. Through the overstimulated fog of ecstasy, you feel the torrent of his seed pour into you, your womb overwhelmed with his warmth.

While your body uncontrollably spasms—your muscles still reeling with the aftershocks of your orgasm—you slowly come to. The blunt ache of his cockhead ramming against the back walls of your pussy blends with the sharp, stinging pain of overstimulation—the overwhelming sensations setting your nerves afire.

“T-Too deep,” you rasp out. Your eyes screw shut, tears rolling down your cheek. Above you, Toji chuckles. He bends down—a strangled sob spilling from your mouth when you feel his cock push deeper into you—and licks the wet trails up.

“Gotta be this deep to get ya nice and pregnant,” comes Toji’s instant response. You moan at his words, your pussy involuntarily clenching around him. “Mmmm, such a greedy cunt, milking my cock so nicely,” Toji hums.

Gradually, you drift back to reality, the high of your climax ebbing into a post-orgasmic fog. Breath laboured, the two of you heave for air. Feeling the dryness of your throat, you swallow thickly in a bid to lubricate the strained muscles of your oesophagus. As your mind slowly clears, you feel Toji slip his cock out of you and the inescapable sensation of his cum spilling out of you hits you like a freight train.

The weight of your morals returning to you shatters your bliss and, with a gasp, you try to push him off of you. From above you, Toji quirks an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you purposely avoid his eyes. You can’t believe you’ve just slept with a married man. And not just any married man, but the man married to your employer.

Oh, if Hisano finds out, you’re so screwed.

“Woah, what’s up, Princess?” Toji asks, his forefinger and thumb angling your chin to look at him.

“I-I should go before—” you begin. The shakiness of your voice betrays your panic, though, your nerves only turn to anger when you hear Toji chuckle. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him. Toji only smirks back.

“We’ve separated, doll. She’s not coming back. Too busy fucking her boss,” Toji says. The admission stuns you, your anger fading into incredulity. Despite the gravity of his words, his tone is light, said in a devil-may-care manner that seems out of place considering he’d just admitted to his wife’s own infidelity.

“W-What?” you whisper.

In spite of the situation, you can’t help the flicker of glee that flitters through you and, seeing the odd inkling of joy twinkle in your eyes, Toji laughs, “Like it that much, huh, doll?”

“N-No.” Heat stains your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning as you stammer out in denial.

Toji snorts in response, “Don’t lie, I know ya like me Princess,” Toji reveals. Embarrassment flushes through you and in a bid to hide from his mischievous gaze, you cover your face with your hands. Your actions only has Toji snorting once more, “Can’t play the innocent little babysitter when yer so full of my cum dollface.”

As he speaks one of his hand slips between your thighs, his thick fingers pressing against your sloppy pussy. A wet, lewd squelch fills the air as he pushes two of the digits inside you, displacing his cum from your cunt and causing it to seep out of your battered, slightly gaping hole. A jolt of pleasure surges up your spine.

“T-Toji,” you whine. Before you can say anything else, however, Toji’s fingers retreat from within your slick depths, and instead, he presses his indurated shaft against your leaking hole once more. Eyes widening, you retreat from behind the cover of your hands to stare at him in incredulity. “Again? Already?” you ask in bewilderment.

“You didn’t think once would be enough, did you baby?” he gibes. With that, he pushes the bulbous head into you, the sudden stretch causing you to wince in pain. Leaning forward, Toji runs his nose over the corner of your jaw before taking the soft flesh of your earlobe between his teeth. Nibbling lightly, he almost purrs, “Didn’t Daddy say he was gonna get his pretty little baby pregnant?”

“S-Surely you weren’t being serious?” you gasp out, the sound morphing into a deep moan when Toji thrusts his cock into your silken cavern.

“Oh, I was being very serious, doll,” Toji chuckles lowly, the sound dark and devilish. Purposely, he lowers his voice, until the sound rumbles through the silent room, the rich timbre broken only by the wet sounds of his cock slowly fucking into you, “Daddy’s gonna fuck you until that pretty little cunt is filled with cum and your cute little womb is all swollen with my seed.”

The lasciviousness of his words isn’t lost on you. It’s wrong, you know it is. You can’t get pregnant, you’re almost half Toji’s age, not to mention, you’re still at university and he already has two children. Yet, you can’t deny the sheer thrill you feel as his words sink into you. Perhaps you’d lost your mind, erotic pleasure devouring any and every remnant of logical reasoning. Perhaps Toji really had fucked you stupid. Perhaps you never had any morality, or rationale, in the first place lusting after a married, older man. Whatever it is, though, you can’t seem to care. Especially not when Toji utters his next words.

“Hell, if you’re good for me, I may even make you my pretty little wife,” Toji coos with a promise. His voice is as sweet as sin, as tempting as the devil, and unable to resist, you wholeheartedly, and wilfully, throw yourself into his seduction.

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, your nails dig into their corded muscles and, “Please,” you all but beg.

A wolfish grin curls onto Toji’s scarred lips and eyes glinting with wickedness, “That’s my girl,” Toji praises.

a/n: listen. i have no excuse for the depths of this depravity.

m.list

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arysbruv · 2 months

Text

Runaway

You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.

pairings: suguru geto x reader

warnings and whatnots : I was gonna end it here but i wanted some conflict hehe. So probably part 6 will be the end. Pride and prejudice mentions. Angst. I apologise in advance. Sorry for short chapter and late release have been busy 😔😔🙏🙏. Not proofread.

chapter 1 : are we still friends? chapter 2 : can we be friends? chapter 3 : sorry, not sorry chapter 4 : green looks good on you. chapter 5: [currently reading] chapter 6: burn.

You scanned the books on the shelf, you index finger nudging the edges.

The notifications on your phone going crazy, irritating you. You click your tongue as you look at the messages in the groupchat.

Gojo Hate Group ⁉️⁉️

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: Me and shoko going out coz books r for nerds and ITS BORING

Shoko 🚬: Have fun lovebirds

Suguru 💔: wtf? Where are you both going?

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS SHOKO HURRY UP BEFORE HE CATCHES US

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: OMG I CAN SEE SUGURU HE LOOKS PISSED

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: SHOKO

Suguru 💔: Where the hell are you.

Shoko🚬: LMAO

You click your tongue, peering out the store window to see Satoru and Shoko leave the store in a hurry. Shoko gives you a sly smile, a small thumbs up while mouthing a small ‘you can do it.’

Note to self: kill Satoru and Shoko when you go back.

“They abandoned us.” A sudden voice says from behind you. You turn quickly, almost losing your balance on the smooth wooden floor.

A hand grabs your waist, stabilising you ensuring that you didn’t fall and make a mess on the floor.

Your eyes widen as you look at Suguru who was standing in front of you. He stared back, his eyebrows slightly lifted up in shock. Why was he shock? Your face heats up as his hand retracts.

A pang of sadness hits you as you felt his hand leave you, yet the way his fingers grazed your skin drove you mad. What was he doing?

“Yeah… they did.” You turn away from him, swallowing your saliva as you feel him come closer to you. This was insane. What was he doing? Didn’t he hate you? Was Shoko right?

“What are you buying?” He asks, looking at the book in your hand. He scoffs as he looks at it.

You eye him down hearing his scoff. “I’ll let you know Pride and Prejudice is an amazing book.”

“I know, I’ve read it.”

You look at him curiously as his eyes move from the book to you.

“You remind me of Elizabeth. Hot-headed and always thinks you’re right. Oh and your quips, you think your so smart huh?” Suguru says, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. What was he saying? Satoru told him to be nice and confess his ever so obvious ‘feelings’ for you but he didn’t understand. What feelings were Satoru talking about? The feeling of his stomach turning every time he saw you? How he craved to be near you, to see what you were doing. To see you walk around in your own world?

“Oh? You remind me of Darcy, prideful, tact and socially inept.” You say, finger pressing on his chest.

He laughs.

“You wish I was the Darcy to your Elizabeth.” I wish it too.

You huff, crossing your arms. It drove him crazy how you looked. Your clothes matching his. He stares at you, observing the way your hair parted and how your lips were sewed tightly into a frown. It was cute.

To the untrained eye, you would’ve looked like a couple in a small argument. In your eyes, you wished he was your boyfriend and having a small argument. Yet, you knew it was probably never happening.

“Whatever…” You blow him off, trudging off to the counter to pay for your book, Suguru following closely behind you.

“Just this please.” You say to the lady at the counter, old in age. She smiles at you, her wrinkles becoming more prominent. She takes the book, smiling as she looks at you and Suguru who stands behind you, glued to his phone.

“You and your boyfriend are cute, I saw you both squabbling over there and I couldn’t help but remember my late husband. We were just like you, always arguing.”

The woman didn’t take her eyes off the book as she talks, your face turns red as you bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You turn back to see Suguru, a small smile etched on his face as he looks at the old woman. His eyes glance at you. His smile drops before he clears his throat.

“Oh, we’re… we’re not a thing, we’re just…friends.”

Suguru feigns a smile as he talks to the woman. She smiles back.

Friends. Friends. Friends. The word replays in his mind. He wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be more than friends. Why? What was so intriguing about you? You were just some random person! Was he mad? Was he delirious? Had he not felt anyone’s touch for so long he was willing to try it with you? No, if that was true he would’ve gone for Satoru or Shoko. You appealed to him. What was it with you? Did you release a pheromone that attracted him to you? What was he thinking?

“Thank you ma’am.” You smile politely at the woman. She smiles back, sympathy and hope in her eyes. Did she notice your feelings? Seems like everyone noticed except Suguru himself. No, he did notice. He just didn’t want it. That was worse. “Suguru let’s go hunt those idiots down.” You say, punching his shoulder as you walk to the entrance.

You found them in a nearby cafe, by nearby, it was around a 2.5 kilometre walk. Suguru and you talked, smiling. It was the first time you did so in a while. The walk that lasted for roughly 20-30 minutes evolved from tension filled to dumb jokes and quips. Suguru watches as you laugh. He missed this you.

As you saw them through the cafe window, you wave out to them. Shoko smiles at you as she urges you and him to come inside. You nod, going to join them. Yet, a hand stops you before you could make a move.

What was he doing?

“y/n. Can we talk?” Suguru says, his voice low as he pulls you to the side, away from your friends’ sight.

“What’s up?” You scratch your skin, eyes bouncing off the walls before finally landing on his’. His’ that were already staring into yours. You gulp.

“I like you.”

huh?

“I like you and it’s stupid and annoying but you’re stuck in my head and i thought it was hate because of how annoying you are and that maybe you’re just an annoying monkey but when Satoru touched you I get tingly and I hate that and…” He rambles on, stopping to look at your face. “Oh my god you’re such an idiot but I goddamn like you?”

You stare at his wide eye, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. He stares back, awaiting an answer. Without a thought, you pull back your hand from his wrist.

“I’m sorry Suguru…”

You ran, ran off to wherever it was as long as he couldn’t find you. Why were you running? You liked him back? Yet, your feet carried you away. Your feelings were about to burst and you didn’t know what to do about it.

‘Run’. Your mind told you.

‘I’ll run.’ Your legs whispered back.

It was like you were just a mere bystander to your body’s conversation. You didn’t know what to do.

So you ran, leaving a broken man behind.

#jujutsu geto #geto x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #ieri shoko #geto angst #suguru geto angst #geto x you #suguru x reader

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running-with-kn1ves · 9 months

Note

MASKED INTRUDER PT 3 I BEGGGGG, ugh, clingy inexperienced yandere + language barrier + overeager and aggressive + needy needy needy, He is perfect! Honestly i had a spiral and came straight here to read my comfort fics and i forgot how much i loved that one 🥺 leooooo

A/N: Still not sure what I should do about Leo's origins; I've had some thoughts but nothing really planned out. Anyway thank you lots anon!

Here's Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 Word count: 2400

TW: Possessiveness, jealousy, threats of murder, razor blades, average creepy dude living in your walls behavior

Synopsis: An unexpected guest comes over, causing chaos to ensue.

The sensation of soap under your fingernails and warm water running down your forearms was one of comfort that you openly welcomed. You couldn't remember the last time you took a bath, and you could hardly count this bathing of your 'roommate' as a bath of your own.

But with your shirt soaked and your forehead damp, you finally had what could be mildly considered a clean version of Leo.

He begrudgingly sat on the cool tile floor, allowing you to ruffle his hair with a bath towel (which was really a poor attempt to manage the mess of loose, lengthy curls on his scalp.) He needed a haircut for sure, but you couldn't muster up the courage to put the scissors to his head.

Getting him out of the house to an haircut appointment would never happen. To say he was agoraphobic was a complete understatement-- he abhorred the outside world. You sometimes think about what would've happened If you hadn't taken pity on him, allowing him to continue to find refuge in your tiny home. Or, was it perhaps he was allowing you? Until, he found that you wouldn't suffice as a worthy roomate any longer, disposing of you like he could've done to whoever originally owned this home. The mystery surrounding his origin that he seemed to completely ignore answering on still made you… cautious.

He still felt like an extension of the house; the smell of its creaky, rotting walls, still always clinging to him-- even now, after you scrubbed him down from head to toe twice.

You grunted as you roughly tugged his head back and forth to rub the remaining water away. Unfortunately, that left you with a frizzy Leo with more hair spun out of control than you knew what to do with.

He blindly searched for the towel behind him without turning his head, yanking it away when he felt it in his fingers.

"Do it myself…" he mumbled croakily, like a rusted music box.

"Alright." You said, slightly offended. You held your hands in front of you dramatically, watching Leo wrap himself with the towel.

He looked so frail like this, on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. His scrawny frame hardly gave him any weight either, even if he was above six foot. You wondered if he really could hurt you, if-- he ever had the urge, to stab you with the rusty razor blade you watched him grip after he came out of the walls once company left.

How long would it be? Until he snapped, until one argument was just too much, and you were no longer his favorite person in the world. Tonight was one of those nights, where you imagined yourself bleeding out on the floor, Leo standing above you with that blade, or perhaps a knife from the kitchen-- the one you noticed had gone missing a few days prior.

Your fear wasn't out of place despite how many times you tried to rationalize how stupid it was.

Several hours earlier, before Leo was as clean as he was now, you had a guest over.

It was an old university friend, a guy you met in your first year during some odd end prerequisite or math class-- You couldn't remember. But it didn't matter, at least not to Leo.

The moment the "intruder" sat down, you heard Leo's presence shift behind him. You could see his black eyes peering in and out of the holes in the dining room, sounds of his sporadic shuffling echoing throughout the house. You cringed everytime your friend looked up and around himself in confusion, curious of the noise.

"It's just rats," you cover, kicking the wall behind you with a force that should've knocked down the drywall. The sound of Leo letting out a thump of retaliation nearly made your smile crack.

You had rescued your university pal several times over the course of that night, finding the dead bugs in his drink before he could've noticed, and shutting Leo back into his hiding spots anytime you saw his hand or leg peek through, when he occasionally got the courage to try and dispose of the 'threat.'

It wasn't until your guest had asked to use the bathroom however, that Leo managed to gain a win. Cursing and yelling from the locked door made you panic, the few minutes of silence in the living room having seemingly tricked you of peace. You should’ve known that silence never meant a good thing.

Sprinting to the bathroom, you got there in time to find your old friend covered head to do in dust and dirt, the bathroom vent still emitting a cloud of grey. Dust fell from the vent, spraying with the blow of the air conditioning.

"Stop!" You screamed, kicking the back of the bathroom wall multiple times in retaliation. The dust immediately lessened, flecks still falling into your hair. You grunted and cursed, seeing the disaster your bathroom had become and the filth your friend was left in.

It was safe to say you escorted him quickly out thereafter, blaming the “malfunction” on your worse for wear vent ducts. His confused expression lingered as you walked him out the door. Your horrible cover ups had you questioning whether or not he was convinced but thankfully there seemed to be some sort of unspoken understanding-- maybe he knew you had to be going through something from how odd your behavior was all night-- or maybe it was just misplaced pity.

Either way, you were relieved to watch him exit the door with a washcloth you knew you’d never get back, telling him to be safe on his way home with a wry smile.

Shutting that door was the biggest relief ever. The last person you'd want to know about your odd roomate situation was one of the few people in the world who had preconceived standards of you.

You had never worried about Leo when you had groups of friends over; he never dared to leave from his hiding spot when more than one foreign person entered the house. But this time, it had been a single unknown entity, and a male one at that. You felt the realization hit you directly in the gut as your back laid against that cool wooden door, the sounds of Leo leaving one of his more trickier, less clean hiding spots echoing in the house.

"Leo?" You called out, a slight inflection of annoyance in your voice.

You watched him crawl out of the large vent in your hallway, the metal grate coming off as two dirty hands forced it to the floor. Leo shimmied his way out of the tiny crawlspace, clouds of dirt coming with him as his legs finally came free.

Scrambling up, the male blew dust out of his mouth, wobbly getting to his feet. With a sly glare and a satisfied expression, Leo looked towards to you silently; smugly.

Pinching his ear and dragging him to the bathtub had been your first approach at reprimanding him; but it had done nothing to deter him. Leos silentness and resentful, pouting face left you to scold a brick wall, his rigidness extending to his body's heavy limbs and sluggish pace.

Even now while slowly rubbing the towel back and forth on his scalp, his face turned away defiantly.

A quiet moment passed as you watched him scrub himself dry.

"I just… I don't understand why you have to act this way."

Leo stopped. His head had been hanging low, thin wrists resting on his knees as water droplets rolled down the ends of his hair. His hand-me-down stretched pajamas covered his chest and thighs. You never thought an old pair of basketball shorts and a faded grey shirt would look so good on him, but you couldn't help to linger on his fingers and the curve of his neck muscles.

Without warning Leo stood up, pushing off the ground with one hand as he held the towel loosely in the other.

"What're you doing?" You question.

He wouldn't face you; his mask prosthetic was left on the edge of the tub, and without it-- well, it was impossible to make eye contact with him.

Leo reached for the light witch next to the shut bathroom door, flipping it without a word.

As soon as you saw him pull the light switch the color drained from your face.

You didn't speak, waiting in the dark to see what Leo's next move would be. Maybe he hid that Razor blade somewhere in his clothes, and was aiming it at you right this second.

"If you're gonna--"

"Shh." A voice hushed.

The warmth of flesh was pressed against your lips. It was a finger; hot breath fanned above you, the finger on your lips turning to a hand that cupped your cheek. Your face was held so securely, being tipped upwards as he stood leering above you. The bathroom was quiet save for the dripping of the bath pipe, and Leo's heavy breathing.

Leo reached for you, awkwardly climbing atop your lap. He stumbled at first, but the way he curled his arms around your back, you felt like you couldn't let him go.

His nose nestled into the crook of your neck, crumpling into you like an animal looking for warmth.

"I don't share…Don't like it.." he mumbled.

"What?"

"Things, my things.." He started, the sounds of his labored breaths hitting your ear. "Don't like it when… strangers touch… my things."

"Wai--Leo!"

You couldn't help but search for his eyes in the dark, doing a happy little wiggle with him in your arms.

"Your voice has improved so much!" You beamed. He hadn’t spoken since the incident, and before that-- well, it took a lot to get him where he was.

“See, I knew pushing you would pay off.” You beamed, gloating in the feeling of success after remembering all the painful vocabulary lessons and hours of his stubborn behavior when you refused to answer his nonverbal pleads.

Leo’s quietness as you pinched his ear beneath his fluff of loose curls gave you time to snap back to reality-- remembering the words he just spoke. Leo basked in the praise, gripping onto your damp shirt as he ignored your change in expression.

The obvious possessiveness made you nearly cringe; this is exactly what you were trying to avoid.

“But Leo, I’m not just yours- I’m everybody’s. There are other people my time has to be shared with--”

You were cut off with the flick of an all too familiar razor blade, twirling in Leos fingers.

“Then….I’ll kill them.”

“....Kill?”

Leo leaned up, bringing his face closer to yours than he’d ever done before.

“I… wanna kill. Him. Kill….all of them..” His eyes were wide in the dark, and you could see the faint outline of the scars running down his face. You stared hard into his eyes, witnessing the fear and paranoia in them. “They’ll take.. You away. He will.” His throat was getting raspier, more raw.

“Leo, you know you can’t say things like that..” You softened. He sounded so small, you could hardly believe his words. But in the back of your mind, alarm bells and bright red warning signs were going off.

You reached for his face, hoping to hold it in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin. But Leo stopped you, holding your wrists. He rejected you from touching his face, again; had things truly changed? Had you made any progress with him?

And like clockwork, Leo reached for his mask, by the bathtub, sitting comfortably on your lap as he faced you.

He adjusted the prosthetic on his face, resting it snugly as the back clipped.

“You really wanna stop me from kissing you that badly?” You joked.

But then the mask was lifted, just slightly, as Leos lips came closer for yours. Now that you brought the idea up, he wouldn’t let it go.

“Kiss..” He mumbled, trying to reach for your face.

“Ah ah,” You waved a finger at him. “Don’t think I’m going soft after what you just said.” Leo let you push your two fingers against his lips, puckering them. “We’ve talked about this; what did I say?”

“Killing is….it is,”

“It’s wrong, Leo.”

“Its.. wrong.” He whined, bringing your other hand to his chest. He didn’t want it to be wrong, he wanted you to let him run wild and do what he knew he needed to do--”

“Promise me, Leo.” You pulled your hand slightly away. “Promise me you won’t.. Hurt anyone. Okay?”

He went quiet, letting a small grunt out as you kept pulling away the longer he stayed quiet.

“Say it.”

“Fine… okay.” He croaked.

You went limp and let him hold you close to him, his face leaning close as he looked for your approval.

“Kiss..?” He mumbled again, following where your head turned to catch your lips.

“Only because you’re finally being good..” You let him grab your chin like a cat pawing at you, his other hand nestled into your hair. “But you really don’t deserve this, especially after toni--”

You were cut off with a hungry lick, Leo’s mouth twisting against yours as the mask bumped against your nose. He lifted it just a bit higher, concealing only half of his face as he leaned deeper into you. His mouth was as warm as usual, but you could feel his warn down jealousy still through the rush of his lips.You wondered if you should really be rewarding him now after all he tried to pull.

A guttural purr released from his throat when he broke free from your mouth with a huff, running his hand down your back. He tried to pull your hair out of your face with his free hand, leaning for another kiss.

“Wait Leo,” You put a hand in front of your lips, the other out with your palm up. “Give it to me first.”

Leo let out a dramatic sigh. He sat for a moment, stubbornly waiting to see if you’d really push him or let it go.

“Come on now,” You beckoned with your hand.

Huffing with frustration, Leo took as slow as possible to pull the razor blade from his pants.

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redrose10 · 16 days

Text

I’m still working on the next chapter of The Interlude Inn. Things have been crazy lately and I’m sorry it’s taking so long, but thank you for staying with me. In the mean time here’s just something small I had stuck as an idea for a while and wanted to put out there.

Warnings: Angst, Lots of Crying, Breakups, Arguments, eventual fluff

Summary: Who knew that some old yarn and a knitted beanie would be what helps to mend yours and Yoongi’s broken hearts.

Word Count: 2,703

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You stood back against the door with your arms crossed. “Seriously Yoongi, don’t you have anything to say?”

You glared at your boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend, as he removed his headphones once again.

“What do you want me to say Y/N? You’re unhappy in this relationship and you want to end it so go. I’m not going to get on my hands and knees and beg you to stay.”

You rolled your eyes almost involuntarily. He was kind of right. You were the one that showed up at his studio unannounced and broke up with him out of nowhere, but it was mostly his fault that you got to this point.

After three years together you were just tired of feeling alone and unappreciated. His work was always put before you and your relationship and you were done with it.

“This is what I’m talking about Yoongi. You don’t care at all that I’m walking out. I guess the last three years were a waste of time since I mean nothing to you.”

Yoongi hastily spun his chair around and put his headphones back on before you could see his tears begin to fall. Scoffing you grabbed your jacket and purse and stormed out letting the door slam behind you before you finally released your own river of tears.

It had been almost six months since you and Yoongi broke up and neither of you had made any effort to contact one another. Jin ended up being the mediator brining you a box of your stuff from Yoongi’s and you gave him a box to take back to him as well. The last reminisce of the relationship you once had with each other.

Even though it had been six months the pain still hurt more than any other breakup you’d ever encountered. You really felt that he was the one you’d spend the rest of your life with and now that it wasn’t happening you were having a hard time coping with that. Jin claimed that Yoongi was struggling too. He wasn’t eating, stopped working on music for a while until the company got on his case, and Jimin claims to have seen him crying in his car while parked at the company building several times.

Yoongi seemed to be doing just fine in your eyes though. Always smiling and laughing in interviews and performances. Rumors even circulated about him dating a fellow idol and you had to admit the pictures looked pretty convincing. As much as you tried to tell yourself that he had every right to move on it still hurt.

It finally passed the busy season at work so you decided to treat yourself with a week off. Nothing fancy. You just wanted some time where you could shut off your alarm clock, maybe do a deep clean of your apartment, and eat as much greasy terrible for you, but tasty food as you wanted. The first morning of your vacation you heard your phone ringing from its place on the night stand next to you. You had made it absolutely clear to your boss to not contact you for any reason whatsoever so you knew it wasn’t work. Your friends would get the hint after a call or two that were missed, but whomever was calling was persistent. You stayed still trying to just ignore it, but after the eighth missed call you decided to roll out of bed and check to make sure nothing bad had happened.

To your surprise you found fifteen missed calls all from Namjoon and Jin. They hardly ever called you even when you and Yoongi were together so you were confused as to what was going on. Suddenly you got a notification for a voicemail and you clicked play,

“Hey Y/N, this is Namjoon. I’m really sorry to bother you right now. I know it’s still pretty early, but we’re having a bit of a situation. Something is wrong with Yoongi. We’re not sure what’s going on, but if you could give me a call back I’d really appreciate it. Thanks, Bye.”

You tossed the phone on your bed before plopping down. Namjoon’s voicemail repeating in your head. By now they all definitely knew what had happened between you two so it kind of irked you that they would call you of all people for help. Yoongi or anything Yoongi related was no longer your problem. You had every intention to just ignore it, but then in the back of your mind you started to worry. There will always be a part of you that will love and care for Yoongi and you couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him because you wanted to make a point.

Grabbing your phone you quickly dialed Namjoon’s number and he answered on the second ring.

“Hi Y/N, thank you for calling me back. I really am sorry to wake you.”

“No it’s okay Joon. What’s going on?”

He let out a deep sigh, “Well we’re not 100% sure. We just got back today and Yoongi started flipping out. He tore through his suitcase. He made the stylist give him access to our wardrobes and he went through those too. It took Jimin and Hoseok two hours to help them put everything back together. He’s made a bunch of phone calls and now he’s just sitting in the corner of the room sobbing and mumbling something about a hat. We were hoping you’d know what was going on with him.”

You bit your lip trying to recall anything about a hat, “No I’m sorry Namjoon. I have no idea what it could be.”

“Well I was afraid of that. We’re supposed to leave to go to an interview in like fifteen minutes and I have no idea how we’re gonna get him to cooperate. He’s just completely inconsolable.”

You were really hoping you weren’t going to regret this but you took a deep breath and continued, “Would you like me to talk to him? Maybe I could get it out of him.”

“Oh my Yes! Thank you so much Y/N.”

After a few seconds and some distant mumbling you heard a few loud sniffles in the phone followed by the softest “hello” you’d ever heard.

“Yoongi what’s going on? Why are you so upset right now?”

It was like your voice set him off again and you could hear the sobs coming from deep within his chest followed by words you couldn’t make out.

“Yoongi calm down please. I can’t understand what you’re saying. Take a few breaths. Remember how we used to do it.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

Do we need to take a few more?

1…

2…

3…

Okay now tell me what’s going on so I can try to help.”

A few moments went by and you were starting to think you’d never find out what happened, but then he cleared his throat,

“M-my beanie. The b-blue one. I lost it.”

Trying to think back to what hat he was talking about you continued, “Yoongi what beanie?”

“The soft blue one. I lost it somewhere. I can’t find it.”

“Yoongi it’s okay. You can get another one easily. I’m sure you could even order it online and have it delivered within a day or two.”

“N-no you don’t understand. You made that hat for me and it’s the last thing I had left from you. I’ll never have one like that again.”

It sounded like his crying was picking up again and that’s when it hit you.

Years ago you were hanging out at the dorm when Taehyung came walking by with some yarn he had used for a crafting thing he did with his siblings and not wanting the yarn to go to waste you took it and knit Yoongi a beanie. It was a blue color and very soft and fuzzy. That same night you gave it to him he asked you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t even know that he still had it.

Your heart did break at the sound of how upset he was getting over this. You had no idea how much that meant to him.

“Hey Yoongi it’s okay. Just breathe alright. I’ll make you a new hat. It’ll even be the same color and everything. I can have it done by tomorrow morning.” You really didn’t m feel like having to spend your day off knitting a new hat for your ex, but if that’s what got him to cooperate and get to the interview then you’d do it to help out the other members.

There was some silence followed my more sniffles, “I appreciate that Y/N, but it’s not the same. I don’t want a new hat. It won’t have the same memories with it.”

“Listen Yoongi, I know you have to get to an interview soon because you still have a job to do. The rest of the group is counting on you. Why don’t you go ahead and get that done and then we can try and fix this. Does that sound okay?”

You felt like you were tying to compromise with a toddler, but knowing he was this upset over something of yours did pull at your heart strings a little.

He didn’t say anything, but you could still hear his cries and what sounded like Jimin in the background trying to console him. Not long after Namjoon came back on the line, “So it sounds like you’ve figured it out?”

You chuckled, “Yeah kind of. It was this beanie that I had knit for him years ago. I guess he lost it while you guys were on tour.”

“Oh yeah that blue one right? He hasn’t let it out of his sight since he packed up your stuff for Jin to drop off. Hoseok swears he cuddles with it in his sleep. I’m surprised he lost it.”

That information felt like a stab to the heart. Maybe the breakup did really hurt him.

“I’m gonna try and fix this. I think I’ve convinced him to go to the interview so hopefully you guys can get done what you need and I’ll be in contact later.”

After traveling to four different craft store and six hours later you had knit an exact replica of the hat. Somehow you managed to find the same yarn in the same color and you were quite happy with your work. Your plan was to just tell Yoongi that one of the stylist found the lost beanie tucked away in a random suitcase somewhere after you had asked to take a look. You figured what Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Standing outside Yoongi’s studio you felt a million different emotions. The last time you were there still burned into your brain. After a quick few knocks the door swung open and the sight taking your breath away. He looked terrible. Definitely slimmer and paler which you weren’t sure how that even happened. His skin was red and raw from the crying. His eyes widened when he realized it was you standing there.

“Here, one of the stylists found the hat in a suitcase.”, you managed to get out pushing the blue beanie to him.

Gently he took it from your grasp. As he looked it over you noticed the slight tremble to his hands. When he finally looked up at you he had tears threatening to fall. He shook his head handing the hat back to you, “This isn’t it.”

“Yes it is Yoongi. It’s the one I made you. Look at it.”

“No it’s not Y/N. The first one you made me years ago has a little hole on the side where we had to cut it when one of your earrings got caught.”

You remembered that day. The two of you were cuddling on the couch watching a movie when he went to get up and get more snacks but was stopped by you yelping in pain as your ear was pulled in his direction. You both tried for over twenty minutes to get your earring loose, but ended up having to just cut it out. You had promised to fix it, but never got around to it.

“Yoongi I’m sorry that you lost that hat, but please just take this one. Maybe over time it’ll mean something to you too.”

He began to sniffle and you had to force yourself not to pull him into a hug.

“Yeah it’ll be a reminder of how I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”, he cried.

“Yoongi it’s just a hat. And not even an expensive designer one. I hardly think it’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

He couldn’t hide the slight chuckle that escaped him, “I meant you Y/N. Not the hat.”

“Oh, I see”, you could feel your cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“Y/N, please give me a second chance. I’m sorry that I had put work before you so many times. It was selfish of me. I thought I was helping us both by being as successful as possible, but now I know that all this money and success is nothing if I don’t have you to share it with.”

Watching as he wiped away a tear you sighed, “Yoongi, I just…I don’t know. How do I know that things won’t immediately go back to the way they were?”

“I don’t know Y/N. I can speak a thousand promises, but whether you choose to believe them or not is up to you. But if you give me another chance I’ll work harder than ever to prove to you that things will be better between us.”

“Okay, I’m not saying that things will instantly return to normal, but I think that we could try and work up to it.”, you sighed.

Yoongi bit his lip trying to contain the smile threatening to come through, “Thank you Y/N. I can work with that. I won’t let you down. C-Can I give you a hug?”

Smiling you took the blue beanie in your hands and placed it on top of his head before stepping forward wrapping your arms around his neck feeling like things were finally on the right track and thankful to be back in his arms.

Four years later…

“Oh my goodness, Jungkook these are the cutest little booties I’ve ever seen.”, you smiled holding up the pair of blue knit baby booties for everyone at your baby shower to see. “Little Baby Min is going to absolutely love these.”, you continued before handing the box over to Yoongi so he could get a look.

Yoongi stared down at the gift with his brows furrowed. “How did you have these made? I know you don’t knit.”, he asked the younger man. “Well my girlfriend knows a lady who takes old fabric and yarn and stuff and makes keepsakes. So I gave her the blue hat that Y/N had knit for you and asked if she could make baby booties. I knew that hat was important to you both and now your baby can enjoy it too.”

That seemed to only cause more confusion for Yoongi, “But that hat is upstairs in one of my drawers. I just saw it this morning.”

Jungkook smiled while shaking his head, “No, this is the original hat. You know the one you thought you lost.”

You felt Yoongi’s tense up next to you. Namjoon gasped from the corner.

“That’s very sweet Kookie. How did you get that hat by the way?”, you asked.

“Oh after we got back from the tour I found it in my luggage. I think it was tucked away in a sweatshirt I had grabbed.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “So if you knew I was looking for it and you found it then why didn’t you say anything?”

With nervousness you looked between your husband and Jungkook repeatedly before reaching over and taking Yoongi’s hand in yours trying to brace him for the answer.

As nonchalantly as possible Jungkook replied, “You never asked me.”

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