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simjaexy · 5 months ago

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𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

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flwrstqr · 7 months ago

Text

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN THEY GIVE YOU A HICKEY˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1076 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, suggestive┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ . bye im gonna kms. this fic. ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your hair, when suddenly you feel a presence behind you. before you can react, strong arms gently wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You recognize his scent even before you turn around—heeseung.

his warm breath tickles your ear as he leans in to leave a soft kiss on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. a gasp escapes your lips. his lips linger for a moment, imprinting a gentle mark on the side of your neck.

turning to face him, cheeks flushed, you meet his eyes "baby," you murmur softly.

his arms tighten around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "so perfect," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i want everyone to know you're mine."

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

you and jay are wrapped up in each other's arms. his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back.

as you tilt your head slightly to rest it against his chest, jay's lips find your jawline with a feather-light touch. his kiss lingers for a moment longer than usual, leaving a subtle mark.

you can't help but blush as you feel the warmth spreading across your skin. "jay," you whisper.

he chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "oops," he teases playfully, his fingers trailing along your cheek. "I guess I got carried away."

JAKE (심재윤)

you and jake are spending a quiet evening together, lounging comfortably on the couch. out of nowhere, jake leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, catching you pleasantly off guard. his lips linger for a moment before he pulls back slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"you know," he says in a teasing tone, his fingers tracing light patterns on your arm, "I've been thinking about something."

"oh?" you reply, a smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze.

"yeah," jake continues, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leans closer again. this time, his kisses trail from your lips to your neck, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses. you feel a slight shiver run down your spine as he finds a spot on your neck and playfully sucks, leaving a hickey.

"jake?" you breathe out, a mixture of surprise and excitement in your voice.

jake grins, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "Can you blame me?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "You're just too irresistible."

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

the party buzzes around you, but your attention only on sunghoon. you find yourselves in a quiet corner, away from the crowd. sunghoon's hand rests gently on your waist as he leans in to whisper something playful in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

suddenly, sunghoon pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet intense kiss. his tongue sneaks out, gently flicking against your bottom lip. he can taste the sweetness of your lip balm, the faint hint of your favorite lipstick. when he finally pulls back, his lips linger just inches from yours.

sunghoon's gaze intensifies as he leans in to press a trail of kisses along your jawline, down to your neck. he pulls back slightly, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement as he takes in the marks he's left.

"you know," he murmurs, a playful smile dancing on his lips, "I think I might have kissed you more than I should've tonight."

You chuckle softly, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. "maybe," you tease back, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

SUNOO (김선우)

you and sunoo are lounging together on a lazy afternoon. sunoo's arm is draped casually over your shoulders, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair as you lean against him, feeling completely at ease.

as you talk, sunoo suddenly leans in to press a kiss against your neck. Ii's not just a gentle peck; it's a bit more intense, leaving a faint mark on your skin.

"sunoo," you say softly, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice.

he pulls back slightly, his eyes widening as he notices the mark he's unintentionally left. his cheeks flush slightly, but a proud smile spreads across his face.

"oh," Sunoo says sheepishly, his fingers gently tracing over the mark. "I didn't mean to... um, leave that. but it looks good i guess,"

JUNGWON (양정원)

you and jungwon as you stand together in a quiet corner of the park. his hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin tenderly as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss

as jungwon pulls back slightly, his eyes meet yours, filled with a mischievous glint. a playful smile curves his lips as he leans in again, this time pressing a kiss to your neck. his lips linger just a bit longer, deliberately leaving a mark—a gentle hickey.

he chuckles softly, his breath tickling your skin. "sorry," he says with a playful grin, his fingers tracing the outline of the mark he just made. "couldn't resist."

you playfully swat his arm, though you can't hide the smile on your face. "I can tell," you reply teasingly.

jungwon's grin widens as he leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips. "well," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice filled with affection, "a pretty mark for a pretty girl."

RIKI (西村力)

you and riki are spending a relaxed evening together, sitting close on the couch while watching a movie. riki's arm is draped over your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lean against him.

during a particularly intense scene in the movie, riki leans in and presses a soft kiss to your neck. His lips linger for a moment longer than usual, leaving a gentle mark—a hickey—next to where he kissed.

"Riki," you say softly, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice your hand instinctively touching the spot where his lips just were.

he looks at you innocently, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "hmm? what's that mark?" he asks, feigning ignorance and pointing to the faint hickey.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "oh, I wonder how that got there," you reply, teasing him back.

riki chuckles softly, leaning closer until his lips are inches from yours. "maybe I should kiss it better," he suggests, his voice husky with desire.

2K notes · View notes

hopelesslygaysstuff · 8 months ago

Text

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you use numbing gel on wanda, and she punishes you for it with some gel of her own.

content warnings: smut, fingering, numbing gel, sensitivity gel, overstimulation, subspace

word count: 5.7k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Retaliation

Silence.

You were so sick of the fucking silence.

Honestly, you loved your girlfriend. She was the best part of your life, the most important person to you and the one you knew you’d marry… but her work days were long. And you were so fucking bored. The silence that filled the large house you shared was only temporarily broken by your music, blasting from your speaker as you worked. Or the sound of the TV, loud enough to be heard from the kitchen as you meal prepped.

But eventually, the speaker would die. Or you’d get bored of whatever show you were watching. Then, the silence would creep in, reminding you of the emptiness that crowded you. Then, you’d start to think about your girlfriend.

God. She was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

You’d met her almost a year ago. You’d been bored in a bar, your friend dragging you along to some fancy work party of hers. She was off talking to some important people or something, and your social battery had died a long time ago.

Someone had gently touched your shoulder, and you’d turned around in surprise. Your eyes met sparkling green ones, taking in high cheekbones and soft auburn hair, and you’d fallen in love immediately.

Wanda Maximoff was perfect in every way. Doting, attentive, communicating with you every day. She was soft and commanding, her touch gentle yet firm. She was the light of your life, the only person you fully trusted in every aspect. She was absolutely the best girlfriend in the whole world.

She was also your dominant, so when she ordered you to do something, you listened.

That week, she had just so happened to order you not to touch yourself while she was at work. It was only Thursday, and you were slowly losing your mind. You’d finished all your chores, including some extra work around the house just to keep yourself busy, but it wasn’t enough.

So here you were, four in the afternoon, laying on your stomach on the bed. Scrolling through your phone, finding nothing interesting enough to hold your attention.

“Fuck.”

Sighing, you threw your phone down, dropping your face onto the comforter. You felt like throwing a tantrum, or breaking her rules and sending Wanda a video or picture of you masturbating. She would be pissed, but maybe she would punish you with overstimulation. At least then you’d actually have some relief from the ever-present ache between your legs.

Your phone pinged, an email coming through. That got your attention, and you immediately perked up as you quickly snatched your phone up. Unlocking it, you smiled widely at the notification.

‘Your order has been delivered.’

Leaping up, and almost tripping over yourself, you made your way downstairs. Your footsteps dully thudded on the carpet as you raced towards the front door, and you swore under your breath when your shoulder caught on a door frame. Shaking it off, you continued towards the entrance of your home, stopping yourself with your hands on the door before unlocking it. As you caught your breath, you peeked through the curtain, gripping the door handle as you ensured the delivery driver was making their way back to their truck.

Wanda had drilled a rule about deliveries into your head.

‘Don’t open the door until the driver is gone. It’s not safe for submissives to open the door when a stranger is nearby.’

A door slammed shut, and you jolted out of your thoughts. Watching closely, you smiled as the delivery truck drove away, slowly counting to ten in your head. As soon as you reached ten, you unlocked the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing as you caught sight of the small package resting innocently on the doorstep.

Scooping it up, you quickly closed the door, locking it behind you. Checking the time, you noted that you still had around 45 minutes before your girlfriend would be home.

Perfect.

That was just enough time for you to hide your new package next to the other toys Wanda kept in the playroom. It also gave you the chance to hide the packaging in the outside garbage. Wanda would never find it, since it was part of your chores to take the trash out.

Mentally patting yourself on the back, you raced to hide your package.

This was going to be a fun night.

��

If Wanda had noticed your badly concealed excitement, she didn’t acknowledge it beyond a simple raised eyebrow.

You were practically vibrating, your eyes shining as you took her coat and kissed her gently. Her hands lingered around your waist, fingers skirting over the silky material of your skirt, dipping slightly below the waistband as she smirked.

Wanda was touchy. That was always a good sign.

You eagerly took in the sight of her, your imagination not quite good enough to conjure up the magnificent beauty in front of you that you got to call your girlfriend. Honestly, between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows and her long fingers currently curled around your waist, it was hard to not melt into a puddle of goo whenever she was around.

Her clothes were still pristine even after a long workday, not a single wrinkle in her dress shirt or blazer. You wondered how she managed that, or how her hair was still as soft and curled as it was when she left this morning.

“Baby?”

“Oh, sorry. Did you say something?” You shake your head, clearing it as you look up from your pasta.

Wanda’s green eyes sparkle with amusement. She takes a bite, her lips wrapping around her fork. She maintains eye contact as your grip goes slack around your own utensil, eyes watching her glossy lips as she drinks from her wine glass.

“I asked if you had a good day, sweetheart.”

“Oh- I… well, yes.” you manage, clearing your throat as your sentence dies.

Another raised eyebrow, and an expectant look. Those lips are on the rim of her wine glass again. You want to touch them, to feel them against your skin as she nibbles and sucks her way towards your lips.

God, you want her tongue too. You want to feel it dragging across your stomach, making its way to your chest and swirling it around your nipples. Her plump lips wrapping fully around them as she sucks, her eyes dilated and needy. Your neck, damp from the warmth of her mouth as her tongue drags up, your head thrown back from the sensation against your most sensitive spot.

“Sweetheart,” Wanda’s voice is hard, her hand gripping your thigh under the table. “Focus when Mommy is talking to you.”

You wince, feeling her nails digging into your skin.

“I’m sorry Mommy,” you trail off, casting your gaze back onto your plate. Eye contact made you nervous, and Wanda’s green eyes had a way of reducing you to a stuttering mess.

“Don’t mumble.”

Wanda’s fingers squeezed once more - a reminder to behave - before they disappeared. Her fork clinked against her plate, and you smiled as she ate. You knew that she loved this dish, and when she was happy and relaxed, she normally allowed you a bit more freedom in the bedroom.

That’s all you need. A little bit of leniency.

—

Your body is on fire. Wanda’s hands run over your waist, over your chest, and up the sides of your neck. Her fingers leave trails of scorching fire across your skin, your core throbbing with need. Her lips slide smoothly against yours, her tongue gently swiping over them as she presses you against the wall. Her body is fully against yours, her hips pressing into you as she grinds her hips against yours. It is almost enough to make you break.

‘Focus.’

Gasping for air, you gently press against Wanda’s sternum. She pulls back, her lips swollen and red, eyes dilated as they search yours. Her fingers twitch, still gliding across your skin as she kneads your body beneath her palms.

Shuddering, you slow your breathing, reminding yourself of your mission for the night.

“Wanna try something,” your words come out breathy, and not at all commanding like you were hoping.

Wanda’s eyes bounce between yours, her hands stilling around your waist.

“What did you have in mind, baby?”

“Can I show you?” Your eyes light up, hands eagerly touching Wanda’s face. Your fingers trace her cheekbones, running over her jaw as she thinks. “Please?” You add, letting the word drop into a whimper at the end.

Even Wanda can’t resist that.

You look so desperate, your eyes pleading as you gently guide her towards the desk. Pulling out the chair, you usher her into it, kissing her deeply as her hands attempt to pull you onto her lap. You resist, tucking her hair behind her ear as she furrows her brows.

“Just let me try this, Mommy. I promise it’ll be fun.”

Wanda’s green eyes are dark, the warm light from the lamp casting shadows over her sharp features. Her hands fall to her lap, head turned towards you as you reach into the desk drawer, having prepared your supplies earlier in the day. She can’t help but smile, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek as you determinedly grab the items you’d stored.

Turning your wide eyes towards her, you take in your girlfriend.

She’s relaxed, her fingers gently caressing your face while her other hand is loosely gripping your waist. Her eyes remain sharp, assessing everything around her. They linger around your arms, her head tilting as she attempts to see what you’re holding behind your back.

You cluck your tongue at her, gulping at the raised eyebrow she sends back.

“Close your eyes,” you try to sound commanding, but you see the faint smirk Wanda wears as she slowly closes her eyes. “Please,” you add quickly, not wanting to face unnecessary punishment later for your lack of manners.

Wanda lets out a quick huff of laughter, her hands squeezing your waist.

With one hand, you reach towards her hand, bringing it in front of you and squeezing her wrist briefly to silently tell her to keep it there. You do the same to the other, watching her face carefully.

Those perfect eyebrows furrow slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she fights the urge to open them.

You act quickly, securing a cuff around one wrist as her eyes fly open. You grip her other arm tightly as you strap the second cuff around her other wrist. Pulling slightly, you test the strength of the restraints, the soft, thick leather comfortable around her wrists.

“Darling,” Wanda begins, and you smile nervously at her. “Think very carefully about what you’re doing.”

You lean in, pecking her on the lips gently. “I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

Pushing gently, you move her wrists behind her back. Wanda is completely still beneath you, her body rigid as she allows you to maneuver her to your will. Her eyes are locked on your face, and you avoid any eye contact, knowing your confidence will shatter the second you meet those knowing green eyes.

With a click, you secure her cuffs. You’ve effectively restrained her, and you pull back as she tests the strength of the cuffs.

Wanda’s brow furrows even more when she can’t escape from her restraints, her muscles flexing as she attempts to pull herself loose. You can tell she’s seconds away from ordering you to release her.

“Baby, I need you to let me-”

You slap a hand over her mouth, your eyes widening. If Wanda gave you a command, you would cave immediately. You couldn’t let that happen.

“Let me take care of you, okay?” Your voice was pleading. You could hear the whine at the end of the sentence, but couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Wanda’s eyebrows raised, and you quickly removed your hand.

“Alright,” she began, adjusting her weight until she was seated more comfortably. You tried not to salivate at the effortless display of power. God, she was strong. “Remember, pup. I’m in charge.”

Nodding quickly, you place a quick kiss on Wanda’s lips. You almost forget yourself, lingering as her lips press gently against yours, her tongue quickly swiping over yours. You could kiss her for hours, soft moans escaping you as Wanda effortlessly slides her plump, soft lips against yours.

The chair scrapes against the floor as you stand. Your hands are gentle, eyes questioning as you unbutton her pants.

Wanda nods, and you smile brightly. Pulling her pants down quickly, you let your fingers linger on her thighs, feeling her muscles tense and twitch beneath you. God, you could already smell her arousal. You slowly peel her damp underwear from her, watching the shiny juices coat her pussy as you remove the offending garment.

Drinking in the sight of her, your pupils dilate. Wanda can hear your soft pants as you resist the urge to taste her, your fingers shaking slightly as you dig into her thighs. She rolls her hips, just slightly, and you seemingly snap out of your daze, snapping your head up and standing.

The abrupt action has Wanda’s eyes narrowing, her posture tense as you walk towards the dresser.

Opening the bottom drawer, you pull out a black tube.

Wanda relaxes, recognizing the discreet packaging as sensitivity gel. She takes in your stance, your fingers excitedly opening the tube as you put on a black latex glove. Smiling, Wanda remembers your aversion to any type of liquids, gels, or creams on your hands. She’s never even seen you use lotion on your palms, instead, you would rub the back of your hands together whenever your knuckles grew dry.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Wanda watches you squeeze out some gel, smearing it on your fingertips. Her eyes lock on yours, watching the way your brows tighten and furrow in concentration, your eyes glancing up at hers every so often.

Your fingers prod gently at her, and Wanda has to hold back a moan as she feels the cool gel against her warm, swollen pussy. She can hear her ragged breaths, her fingers clenching as she tries not to rut against your hand.

A wide smile spreads across your face, and Wanda has the good sense to let some suspicion cross her mind. She tilts her head and watches your eyes widen at the action.

But then, your fingers are circling her clit, smearing the gel all over it, and a moan escapes her treacherous throat.

“Baby,” Wanda begins, feeling warmth gather in her abdomen.

Two fingers thrust into her, and Wanda forgets how to speak. Your eyes are sparkling as you look at her. There’s something behind your eyes, something Wanda can’t quite focus on. She can’t discern what the unreadable look you're giving her means and blinks in an attempt to focus. You curl your fingers, and she throws her head back in pleasure, forgetting about it in an instant.

The sudden roughness of your fingers pulling out of her draws a soft whimper from her throat.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Your voice is soft, and Wanda narrows her eyes at you as she attempts to get her breathing back under control. The fingers that were buried in her a few moments ago now rub her clit, your eyes watching her face carefully.

Something isn’t right.

Wanda rolls her hips again. She can feel the pressure of your fingers against her and hear the sounds of her arousal as you work her clit… but there’s only a faint prickling sensation. It feels almost cold - as if that entire area has fallen asleep.

Last Wanda had checked, there was only one way to make that happen.

“Darling,” Wanda growls, her eyes dark. “I need you to be very honest with me.”

You gulp, your fingers still moving. Wanda’s hips are still, her attention focused solely on you. Her body isn’t responding to your touch anymore, and you slowly withdraw your hand as you take off your glove.

The tension in the room feels like a bowstring drawn too tight, Wanda’s eyes on you sucking the very air from your lungs as she works her jaw. You hear the sound of leather rubbing against skin and know that she’s attempting to escape from her cuffs. The danger in her expression makes you want to grovel and beg for forgiveness almost as much as it turns you on.

“That gel,” Wanda watches your eyes widen as she speaks, a guilty look appearing on your face. “Was it numbing gel?”

Her voice is low and quiet, but you hear every word. You can hear your frantic breaths as you search your head for an excuse, an answer, anything really. Anything but the truth.

Looking up, you meet her eyes.

They search yours, her head tilted slightly as her gaze unrelentingly locks with yours. The air crackles with anticipation, heavy with the weight of your unspoken words. With each passing moment feeling like an eternity, you search for the right words. They’re on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken, but trapped under the weight of Wanda’s gaze.

She’s waiting, her eyes demanding acknowledgment of her question, yet also challenging you to disobey her. It’s a deliciously delicate balance between mercy and dominance, and you feel yourself crack under its weight.

“Yes, Mommy.”

Wanda’s eyes turn stormy and you watch her chest heave as she attempts to calm herself down. Her hips twitch, and you can tell she’s fighting the urge to roll them. It wouldn’t matter if she did, you’ve ensured that everything is completely numb. She won’t be feeling any sensation for a few hours.

Standing, you feel a surge of power. You’re looking down at her, meeting her frustrated gaze as her arms flex. She keeps trying to pull her hands free, her feet planted on the ground in an attempt to gain some leverage. Wanda’s lips are partially open, glistening as she breathes quickly, her green eyes slightly watery as her frustration builds. Catching sight of her spread legs, you watch in awe as her arousal smears over her inner thighs and down onto the chair.

God, she looks so pathetic.

You move to sit on her lap, acutely aware of her eyes following your every movement. Feeling your legs spread as you do, you smile when her eyes flit down towards your chest. You’d left too many buttons undone, and you arch your back slightly as you hear Wanda make a low noise in the back of her throat.

“Don’t tease.” Wanda’s voice is tight, sounding like she’s holding back a storm. Her words are clipped, each syllable heavy with warning.

Smiling, you lean in. Your mouth brushes her cheek as one of your hands moves to grip the back of the chair, the other sliding in between your bodies, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Whatever Wanda was going to say in response is swallowed by a gasp as you crash your lips against hers. You can tell that she wants to be upset and deny you any pleasure to punish you for misbehaving. But then her tongue moves smoothly against yours and you swallow her soft moan, and you know that you’ve won.

Moving blindly, your fingers find Wanda’s warm, slippery pussy. Two fingers slide in easily, curling as you begin to slowly pump in and out of her.

Wanda doesn’t react.

You smile into the kiss, maneuvering your thumb to rub harshly over her protruding clit. Normally, Wanda would jerk and gasp slightly when you stimulated her sensitive bundle of nerves, but not tonight.

That gel was working almost a little too well.

Teeth bite harshly into your lower lip, and you suddenly find yourself struggling to think properly. Wanda is unforgiving, sucking your lip into her mouth as you moan, your fingers faltering against her.

Wanda might not be able to feel anything, but her pussy knows that it’s being stimulated. You can feel her juices soaking your fingers, running onto your hand and down your wrist as you thrust into her. It’s intoxicating, and you feel your own underwear dampen significantly as you grind yourself onto her lap.

“Fuck,” You whisper, feeling Wanda’s small smile against your lips.

You’re focused, the sensation of her slick pussy clenching around your fingers holding all of your attention. The sound of leather and skin barely registers in your mind, your senses overwhelmed by the smell of Wanda’s vanilla perfume and the feeling of her lips fervently moving against yours.

God, you think you could last in this moment for an eternity and never be unhappy.

A hand wraps around your throat.

Eyes flying open, you barely register the victorious look on Wanda’s face before she’s lifting you off her lap and throwing you onto the bed. The leather cuffs dangle from one of her wrists, her other slightly red from her efforts to escape. There’s a thunderous look in her eyes, and you find yourself slowly backing up on the bed as she advances.

“You can’t run now, baby.” Wanda’s voice is low and there’s a small smirk on her face.

She keeps advancing, her head tilting.

You freeze in place, watching as she makes her way towards you. Her deft fingers quickly undo the cuffs from her wrist, her grip strong as she grabs your arm.

Swinging a leg over your hips, Wanda straddles you. Her thighs clench around you, and her hands grip your wrists tightly. You don’t fight it, your body refusing to relax as you watch Wanda with wide eyes. Her fingers make quick work of the cuffs, tightening them around your wrists and attaching them to the headboard as you squirm slightly.

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” Wanda asks, her eyes boring into yours.

A flush makes its way onto your face, your nerves on fire. Adrenaline floods your system, the thrill of being caught racing through you. You quickly shake your head, eyes widening when Wanda erupts in soft laughter.

“Stupid pet,” She mutters, removing herself from you as you watch with wide eyes, feeling your core grow warm at the degrading words. “You should know that Mommy always wins in the end.”

Your jaw works as you try to formulate a response. You can’t think of anything, a foggy haze coming over your mind as you watch Wanda.

Soft footsteps reach your ears as you watch your girlfriend quickly make her way toward the closet. She disappears, and you hear her rummaging through the drawers. You throw your head back, breathing deeply as you control your nerves.

You were so fucked. God, what were you thinking?

Pulling against your cuffs, which Wanda had secured to your wrists extremely tight, you rethought your decisions. The numbing cream had been a great purchase, truly. But actually using it on Wanda?

Worst possible decision.

The doorway darkens, and you feel your mouth go dry when you see Wanda’s silhouette. Your eyes drag down over her body, the curve of her nude waist and hips sending you further into an arousal-driven state of mind. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were drooling for her, your hips rolling slightly as you catch a glimpse of the thick, scarlet strapon now tied around her hips.

Her fingers wrap around a familiar-looking tube, the design eerily similar to the numbing cream you had purchased. Looking closer, however, there were numerous differences. The end of the tube was wider, and the dark pigment of the packaging was more matte than the numbing cream.

You feel the color leave your face. Your legs close of their own accord, a spark of fear traveling down your spine.

Wanda smirks.

Reaching out, your girlfriend quickly grasps your ankles, pulling your legs apart roughly. There’s a warning look in her eyes, and your brief struggle against her ceases immediately. The last thing you wanted to do was make her even more frustrated than she already was, although, judging by the look on her face, you were failing.

“Don’t test me,” Wanda’s voice is tight, a sign of her growing ire. “You’ve already earned a big fucking punishment.”

A low moan sounds out.

Your eyes widen at the sound as it escapes your treacherous throat, along with Wanda’s. A smile slowly begins to form on her face, one of her hands slowly moving towards the apex of your thighs.

“You must really like the idea of being punished, is that it baby?” Wanda asks, her voice soft. Her fingers are anything but gentle, swooping through your slick arousal as she harshly flicks your protruding clit. “Do you get off on the thought of me being mean to you?”

Wanda’s other hand drops the bottle of gel onto the comforter, her fingers grasping your jaw tightly when you attempt to hang your head.

“Nuh-uh,” She clicks her tongue, forcing you to look at her. “Dumb sluts don’t get to hide after they tease Mommy. Answer the question, honey.”

A strangled whimper claws its way out from your chest, a shaky exhale accompanying it as you nod your head to the best of your ability. Wanda’s grip on your jaw doesn’t falter, but she feels your attempt, her eyes darkening.

“You really are a masochist,” Wanda mutters, releasing her tight hold on you. “I love it.”

Your eyes light up, relief cascading through you at her words. Then, you remember the compromising position you’re in and the situation you’ve created. Your elation fades, eyes watching every movement Wanda makes.

Nimble fingers quickly open the bottle, the minimalist logo of Wanda’s favorite brand of sensitivity gel flashing in your vision before she squirts a generous amount on her fingers. The lid closes with a click, and the bottle is thrown somewhere onto the bed.

“Now this,” Wanda begins, smearing the gel messily over your pussy. “This gel is purely for my entertainment. You and I both know that you’re already desperate and needy enough that my touch alone could send you over the edge at any moment.”

Two of her fingers rub the gel onto your clit, the rough stimulation causing your legs to jerk. Wanda pauses, looking up at you. Her eyes are dark, the green of her irises barely a sliver around her dilated pupils. Her face is set, a dangerous, almost predatory look taking over her features.

“Stay still.”

Immediately, you feel your body comply. Your muscles feel as though they’re made of stone, your breaths shallow from the effort it takes to not squirm as Wanda mixes the sensitivity gel with your juices.

You feel a tingling sensation start, the barest brush of air against your bulbous clit sending electric pleasure straight to your core. Your pussy feels both enlarged and sore, the need to cum overtaking you in an instant.

The ache. Oh, god. The fucking ache between your legs. It consumes you, every errant thought in your brain evaporating as you find yourself unable to focus on anything but the throbbing heat at your core.

Wanda looks up, hearing your rough breathing, her eyes widening in pleasure at the sight of your heaving chest. You look absolutely wrecked, your cheeks flushed as sweat drips down your temple. Your eyes are wide and unfocused, your pupils expanded so severely they look like endless black pits of ink.

“You look pathetic.”

Biting your lip tightly, you suppress the wanton moan that threatens to erupt at Wanda’s words.

She doesn’t seem to notice, moving onto her knees between your spread legs and wrapping her hand around her strapon. A mixture of your arousal and the gel glistens on her fingers, and you feel yourself throb as you watch her lewdly stroke herself.

Teasingly, and agonizingly slowly, Wanda lines the tip of her strap against your clit. She presses in slightly, the barest hint of pleasure sending your head reeling. You feel like you’re going slightly insane, the need for stimulation forcing a stream of words from your lips.

“Please, Wanda. I’m so sorry, I’ll never trick you like that again. I promise. I need you so bad, Mommy. I’ll be the perfect little toy for you, just please fuck me. Fuck me with your big strap, you can go whatever pace you want I just… I fucking need it. Please.” You end your begging with a whine, your words breathless. You don’t care. “I’ll do anything.”

In one smooth motion, Wanda buries her strap inside you.

“Mommy's going to fuck you until she can feel pleasure again,” Wanda says harshly, grabbing your throat and squeezing lightly in warning when you squirm. You try to protest, your nerves feeling as though they’ve been lit on fire as you shake beneath her. Wanda doesn't let you.

“No baby, shut the fuck up and take it, I've got to punish the brat out of my good little girl."

Then, she’s finally moving. It feels like absolute heaven, her strap dragging roughly against your walls as you clench around her. Wanda adjusts her hips, the tip of the toy hitting your G-spot with each thrust, and you blink stars from your vision.

Any functional part of your brain has completely abandoned you. Your chest bounces with each rough slap of Wanda’s hips against you, the strap disappearing and reappearing quickly as it’s coated with your juices.

The scent of your arousal fills the room, the air heavy as you suck in desperate breaths between frantic moans. Your body feels like a live wire, muscles taut as your legs spread wider.

Wanda grips your ankles firmly, her strength surprising you. She moves, pressing your legs against your chest as her strap fucks deeper into you. With how hard and fast she’s fucking you, you’re impressed with her stamina and ability to maneuver you into position.

Pleasure and pain morph into one, endless sensation. Every nerve pulsates with need, a symphony of conflicting sensations as Wanda relentlessly, almost ruthlessly fucks into you. Her eyes pierce yours, holding your gaze captive as she works you closer and closer to nirvana.

The very fabric of your reality seems to shift and bend, every sensation smothered with a surreal hue of an indistinguishable mixture of pleasure and pain. Your mind feels fractured, floating in a fuzzy embrace even as Wanda’s sharp thrusts splinter your mindscape. The thrum of your frantic heartbeat reverberates throughout your body, matching the throbbing of your clit as Wanda’s pelvis presses against it with each harsh movement.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, feeling every bit like a death march.

In the back of your mind, you know that Wanda won’t take mercy on you. She won’t stop using you until she’s completely satisfied, until… What had she said? Oh, that’s right. Until she could feel sensation again.

If you were correctly remembering the description and online reviews of the gel you’d bought, Wanda wouldn’t be feeling anything for a couple of hours.

A particularly harsh thrust has your thoughts halting instantly. Your mind focuses, the need to cum overtaking your senses as you feel every inch of Wanda’s strap buried inside you. Your swollen pussy clamps down around her, your clit throbbing with need as she relentlessly fucks into you.

The sounds of your soaked pussy reverberate around the bedroom, spurring Wanda on. She can feel your sticky arousal smearing over her thighs as she steadily plunges the strap inside your greedy pussy.

Watching her strap disappear into your tight, eager heat only serves to motivate Wanda. A surge of motivation surges through her veins. Her thrusts have a renewed energy, her movements almost frantic as she fucks into you with abandon. Throwing her head back, she loses herself in an intoxicating surge of power, one hand wrapping around your throat.

You feel your back arch, pussy spasming against your will. Wanda’s fingers tighten, just barely, but it's enough to send your frazzled body over the edge.

Every synapse in your body fires, your senses overwhelmed by the cascading waves of pleasure as they sweep through your limbs forcefully. Your body trembles, Wanda’s strong hands pinning you down as you attempt to escape from the violent aftershocks of your orgasm. Her fingers skirt down your sides, gripping your hips and leaving trails of electricity in their wake.

“Oh, god. Its-” You stutter, feeling Wanda’s hands press your hips full into the mattress, immobilizing you. “Too much, Mommy.”

The words sound slurred, Wanda’s green eyes trapping your attention. You want to float away, your mind wrapping itself with vanilla-scented cotton as your ears ring.

A coiling feeling, spreading throughout your core. Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your mind barely tethered to your body.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Wanda’s gentle voice washes over you.

The unbearable tension in your abdomen tightens, spreading blazing tendrils of fire throughout your being. Your tears escape fully, sliding down your cheeks as you register Wanda’s smile, the intensity of her gaze sending you over the edge again.

You’re barely retaining your grasp on reality, your mind firmly in subspace as a vanilla-tinged fuzziness encapsulates your thoughts.

“Fuck,” Wanda mumbles, looking down.

Following her gaze, your eyebrows rise as you watch her glistening strap slip out of you. Strings of fluid web between the toy and your overheated pussy, and you belatedly realize that it's your cum.

Damn.

Wanda moves, bottoming out as her strap easily slides into you.

Black dots dance around the corners of your vision, another orgasm washing over you as liquid-hot pleasure flows through your veins. You barely register Wanda’s soft voice, your eyes rolling towards the ceiling as you feel her pull you closer with each thrust of her hips.

The pleasure is unrelenting and strong. It ebbs over you like an endless tide, threatening to smother your mind. With each pulse of pure ecstasy, you feel your consciousness teetering on the edge of oblivion, the thin line between reality and euphoria dimming into nothingness.

Green eyes capture your attention, Wanda’s face appearing fuzzy around the edges as your senses are finally overwhelmed. You feel your body and mind succumb to the intoxicating bliss washing over you as Wanda continues to use your overworked body.

A final, shuddering breath and you slip into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness, your mind firmly wrapped in thick layers of vanilla-tinged pleasure.

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years ago

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Looks like this piece of filth blew up 🤪 There should be a Steve’s Sluts club.

Steve making out with your pussy, his tongue greedily working itself inside of you, and his nose sliding in your slick and pushing against your clit on every upstroke. He’s groaning, whining, panting, and rubbing himself over the mattress. His big hands are wrapped around your thighs to hold you open — alternating between dipping a finger down to work inside your sopping wet cunt, also using two to spread your labia apart so he can devour every inch of you and your wetness. Occasionally he’ll bring your hands to his hair and encourage you to pull, loose tendrils tickling your inner thighs. He’ll lace your fingers together and hold on tight as you start to cum, but then he most likely has one hand full of his thick fingers to assist him in making you fall apart.

It’s not that he can’t just use his tongue (my god, the many times he has used that to devour and destroy you alone), it’s that he knows when it’s real good for you to have that added stimulation inside those tight walls, something to grab onto — it helps you crash harder. And Steve is greedy when it comes to you. There’s nothing like your pussy tightening around his cock or his fingers, fresh, creamy cum splashing out around his fingers and drenching his mouth and chin. God, there’s nothing quite fucking like it to him…

His eyes are blown to the wind, cinnamon flecks shattered in those midnight black pupils, crowing the space of his sclera. He descends upon you and you spread your legs, allowing, practically begging him to pet you through the aftershocks. Both of you are ready for more soon after…

#next day reblog #for the next day crowd #afternoon reblog #self reblog #self reblog <3 <3

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3rdgymbros · 2 months ago

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━ 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐭 (𝟐) !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; vil's dad thinks you're dating, and comes down to meet you

— notes; here is part 2, part 1 is here. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s a bright afternoon at Night Raven College when Eric Venue arrives at Night Raven College unannounced, causing a minor frenzy among students and staff alike. They’re starstruck; after all, seeing a famous actor on campus is a rarity, and Eric is surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans as he makes his way to Pomefiore.

❋ Vil, however, is not thrilled to see him. His father’s obviously come here to snoop, and Eric’s wide grin tells Vil there’s no escaping him today.

❋ Ever the professional actor, Eric insists he’s just here for a little visit. “Can’t a father see his son and stroll around the college campus for a while?”

❋ Vil reluctantly obliges, but he’s wary. Every time they pass a group of students (many of them gawking and staring and pointing), Eric gives each and every one of them a careful once-over, as if expecting you to magically appear. Vil notices and gives his father a dirty look, but Eric just shrugs, the very picture of innocence.

❋ Despite Vil’s attempts to keep his father far far away from you, your paths do eventually cross. You run into both father and son as you’re heading down to the cafeteria for lunch, and Eric’s eyes immediately light up with recognition. He strides over before Vil can stop him, extending a hand with a charming smile. “Ah, you must be the famous Ramshackle student! I’m Eric Venue, Vil’s father. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

❋ You’ve seen exactly zero of his movies. Thanks to Ace and Deuce giving you the lowdown, all you know about this guy is that he’s some big star — Leonardo DiCaprio level, maybe? Not that anyone here would know who he is . . .

❋ Realising that Eric’s waiting for a reply, you quickly recover, shaking his hand with a slightly awkward but friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Venue.”

❋ Eric immediately wastes no time in drawing you into a conversation, asking you about your interests, your studies, and — much to Vil’s chagrin — what you think of his son. He’s so friendly and warm, it’s almost like talking to an old friend, rather than a famous celebrity.

❋ (The shy tinge to your smile, and the way your voice softens when you talk about Vil doesn’t go unnoticed by Eric, and only serves to confirm his suspicions.)

❋ Vil is unnaturally tense through it all, a bow string about to snap. It’s almost as though he’s debating grabbing his father and making a break for it, public image be dammed. But instead, Vil settles for hovering beside you both, looking mortified and slightly flustered when his father asks you something just a little too personal.

❋ Finally, Vil manages to pull his father aside, insisting that they should let you get to lunch (Vil makes eyes at you and you take the hint, dutifully acting as though you’re absolutely starving).

❋ Eric sees right through your little act, but lets you leave with a wave and a laugh, expressing his desire to see you again. Afterwards, Eric turns to Vil with a knowing smile, quietly whispering, “I like them,” like it’s the final stamp of approval for the relationship Vil absolutely refuses to admit he’s in.

#vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit imagines #vil schoenheit headcanons #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland reader insert #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines

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bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago

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some women don't want the bear

john 'soap' mactavish

cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)

bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!

you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.

your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.

"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.

you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.

your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.

you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."

he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.

you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.

you prayed it wasn't loaded.

"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.

you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.

his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.

you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.

he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.

"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.

he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.

he was going to split you in half with that thing!

"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.

you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.

you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.

he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.

the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.

he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.

he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.

you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.

the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.

you were his now.

regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.

"please." you whimpered.

"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.

"please don't kill me." you whimpered.

"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.

you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.

"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.

he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.

"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.

johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.

"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.

even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.

you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3

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aprilthearcher · 13 days ago

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replaying your laughter

harry potter x slytherin!fem!reader ― Harry has a crush on a Slytherin, which could collapse the entire school, but he doesn't seem to care much.

slightly inspired by 'message in a bottle' by taylor swift. there could be a second part if anyone's interested in it. don't forget to like, or reblog, or leave a comment! those are always appreaciated.

word count: 1.4k

part two (covered in you)

#masterlist!

Harry was sure that half – maybe even more than half – of Gryffindors House would never forgive him for having a crush on a Slytherin. Yet, Harry couldn’t really bring himself to care. The lot of them had called him a liar just last year, and none of them, friends or not, had the right to tell him who was appropriate enough or not to go on a date with.

It was hard not to miss her when she was one of the few Slytherins in Harry’s year who had never insulted him nor any of his friends. As a half-blood, she didn’t care about ‘blood traitors’ or muggleborns nor was she a member of Malfoy’s gang. Also, the fact that she was best friends with Luna Lovegood made her trustworthy in Harry’s eyes.

Although they had shared many classes during their years at Hogwarts, Harry didn’t know when he’d started to feel this way towards her. Had it been during their third year, after he’d seen her yell curses at Marcus Flint because he didn’t want girls in the Slytherin Quidditch Team? Had it been during their fourth year, after he saw her in an elegant, deep blue gown at the Yule Ball dancing with a Ravenclaw a year older than them? Had it been during their fifth year, after he’d seen her comfort two first years from Slytherin and Hufflepuff that had spent their afternoon in Umbridge’s office? Had these feelings been there since he’d met her on the train in their first year after she couldn’t find her older sister?

Has he always been so clueless?

Now, despite the fact that this recently discovered crush made Harry’s heart almost burst out of his chest any time he’d see her – whether in real life or in his dreams –, it didn’t mean that he would easily hand the victory to Slytherin in the match they were about to play.

Standing face to face with Urquhart, Slytherin’s new Quidditch Captain, Harry tried to avoid her eyes and how imposing she looked dressed in the deepest hue of emerald green. Still, when Madame Hooch blew the whistle, Harry couldn’t help but raise his head in her direction. Her eyes quickly settled on his, and Harry almost punched himself for being the first one to look away.

Up in the sky, a hand on his broom keeping him steady, he thought he’d have a moment of peace from her. But, in his defence, flying round the pitch looking for the snitch and making sure that his team was playing well eventually led him to find the force of nature that was her on top of a broom. Watching the speed at which she flew, Harry was somewhat relieved that she had never intended to become a Seeker. Yet, as magnificent as she was with a Quaffle in her hands, Ron’s confidence that there was Liquid Luck running through his system managed to block all of the shots she’d thrown at him. Anyone could tell from the look on her face and her stance on her broom that she wanted to rip off Ron’s head, probably use it to mark a few points as well. Her kindness, Harry realised then, did not make her less of a competitive hothead.

The match finished with the snitch in Harry’s hands, granting yet another win to Gryffindor. A smile on his face, he let his eyes trail over his team, each with a grin on their faces as big as his. He saw Ron lifting both of his arms, celebrating with the scarlet and gold crowd, and Ginny dive-bombing into the podium from where Zacharias Smith had been calling the match.

Harry looked for her once more, finding her already on the ground with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team. He’d started descending when he saw what seemed to be a fight between her and Urquhart. The Slytherin Quidditch Team had a finger pointed to her chest, which she quickly dismissed with a jab of her hand and a hissed that Harry got to hear as a ‘Don’t fucking touch me’. This infuriated Urquhart more, making him get closer to her face, but with only a stamp of her foot, she sent him flying backwards.

Madame Hooch’s whistle blew loudly across the pitch, and the crowd finally caught on what was happening. Harry saw them go from celebrating, or sulking in the case of the silver and green sea of people, to whispering excitedly about the tussle. Urquhart was now marching in her direction, though Harry noticed some hesitation on his pace when the determination settled on her face. He had known, not that Harry spent a lot of time observing her, that she was very capable at wandless magic. In Urquhart’s case, he was always ready to start a brawl, yet he never saw through; opting, instead, to play it cool when he realised that he wouldn’t come out triumphant.

Because of some kind of instinct, Harry drew closer to the Slytherin Quidditch Team, standing a few paces behind her. Zabini observed him, his eyes were narrowed and his arms were crossed; it was clear he wasn’t there to stop his teammates from fighting each other. Suddenly, Snape stood between Urquhart and (Y/N). His face was rougher than usual and with only a few words he sent the Slytherin Captain back to the castle. Then, Snape turned to them, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Harry.

“Potter, shouldn’t you be celebrating?” Said Snape. The mere mention of the word ‘celebrating’ added a layer of disgust to his face. “Or is it that you cannot bear that the attention is not on you?”

Before answering, he looked at her. She had glanced back at him at the mention of his name, clearly surprised that he was here. Their eyes met for a brief second, one in which Harry noted the colour of his eyes was similar to that of her robes.

“I was only making sure that none of the players of your house got hurt. Seeing as Malfoy wasn’t here to play today, to get yet another replacement would surely affect the team.”

“How… heroic. Always ready to save the day, Potter.” Harry smiled sarcastically at Snape’s comment. “Miss, I expect to see you at my office tomorrow morning. We will discuss your detention.”

“Detention? Urquhart was the one to start the fight. He was the one yelling at me and getting all over my face.” Harry was certain that weren’t for the fact that Snape was a professor and the Head of her House, he would have suffered the same fate as Urquhart, thrown back across the pitch. He stopped himself from laughing at the mental picture of that.

“It’s not up to discussion, but if you keep complaining you will do a month of detention rather than two weeks.” With her silence and the matter already settled, Snape started walking towards the castle, Zabini and the rest followed him.

Now that the two of them were alone, Harry didn’t know what to say. The bleachers were emptying, some members of his team had already left the pitch.

“Um, thanks for that, I guess,” she mumbled. It seemed she didn’t know what to say either.

“Uh, yeah, no problem.”

There was another moment of silence where both of them avoided each other’s gaze, looking at their shoes or the brown gloves on their hands.

“What did- What did Urquhart say to you?” Harry asked. He was curious, but he also wanted to keep talking to her.

“He basically blamed the loss on me, saying I wasn’t fast enough or my aim was off, which could be true, but it’s not as if the rest of the team got the same. He said it to me because I’m the only girl, so…”

“So he’s a prick and no better than Flint.”

She laughed at that, softly and probably reminiscing that time she cursed him for not wanting to put her on the team. Harry swore that if he could hear that laugh play in the back of his mind forever, he wouldn’t need anything else. It would be her laugh that’d spurred him on. He thought about running to Dumbledore’s office and using the pensieve to replay this moment over and over again.

“Yeah, at least Montague would yell at all of us.” She mentioned while beginning to play with the strap on her gloves. “Anyways, I think it’s time for me to get back, and you have a win to celebrate.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. But, um, you played well today. You’re a great Chaser.”

She whispered a small ‘thanks’, biting her lower lip in an attempt to contain the grin that was about to erupt in her face.

thank you for reading!

#harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #reader insert #slytherin!reader #fem!reader #slytherin #gryffindor #hogwarts #ron weasley #blaise zabini #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #severus snape

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little-diable · 6 months ago

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God’s Garden - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

A small priest drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader always imagines being touched by Priest Riddle, something he finally does when she confesses her sins.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, smut, being touched for the first time, virgin!reader, religious setting

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (1.6k words)

“He’s so good looking, isn’t he?” She had her eyes set on him as her friend whispered the words, unable to bite down a giggle. He was indeed good looking, towering over all others like a statue of a godlike figure, drawing all eyes towards him wherever he went.

“Stop it!” (Y/n) tugged on her friend’s wrist with a laugh, not wanting to gain the attention of the tall priest who was now looking at the two young women from afar. She shot him a soft smile before turning from him, knowing that heat was crawling up her body like water rising higher and higher, set on drowning her in the sinful longing she felt.

“Oh god, he’s coming over.” (Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards Priest Riddle’s frame, watching him push through the crowd of people, mumbling words she couldn’t hear. The burning down sun coated him in a soft light, adding an aurora that perfectly contrasted his black suit.

“Afternoon, (y/n), Mandy.” His raspy voice made her clench her thighs, grateful that she was wearing a long dress that hid most parts of her body from his intense gaze. She didn’t hear the words her friend mumbled, leaving (y/n) alone with the tall priest.

“Your mother told me you made those brownies?” He took a step closer as he spoke, letting her take in the scent of his cologne. She struggled to focus on his words, having to scream at herself not to get lost in thoughts God would curse her for.

“I did, Priest Riddle.” Her soft smile left him chuckling. Two necklaces dangled from his neck, a cross and what appeared to be a dark rosary she hadn’t seen him wear so far, drawing her eyes towards them as if they were a swinging pendulum foretelling her future.

„Well, they’re heavenly, sweetheart.“ Priest Riddle‘s hand found her wrist, softly squeezing the warm skin. The touch sent a buzzing sensation down her spine, making goosebumps rise on her arms and neck as if she was freezing. He was a God, a man so powerful and intimidating, she still wondered how she managed to speak a single word to him.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.” Another raspy laugh left him. A sound that reminded her of last night’s wandering thoughts, where she imagined him holding her close, whispering words no man had ever said to her.

“Do you still want me to take your confession tonight?” No longer could she hold eye contact, struck by the nervousness she couldn’t shake. It had been a stupid mistake, asking him to take her sins from her - sins he was the cause of. A foolish mistake to speak those words to him, knowing that she’d have to tell him of the things she imagined him doing to her.

“Oh, I don’t know.” His hand squeezed her wrist again, forcing her eyes back to him. Priest Riddle’s eyes wandered over her features, taking in every spot she always tried to hide.

“I have time, why don’t we do it now? The others are busy anyway.” He didn’t give her a chance to say no. With a smile playing on his lips, that somehow had a sinister touch to it, he pulled (y/n) from the church gathering, and towards another part of the big garden.

“Aren’t we doing it in the confessional?” It took him a moment to reply as he led her towards a bench that was surrounded by tall growing flowers. No longer could she see the others, hidden from curious eyes and nosy ears that tried to take in everything people spoke in the church.

“Why a confessional when we are surrounded by God’s finest creations. So, speak to me, (y/n). What lies heavy on your heart?” Her nervousness robbed her of her breath, forcing her eyes to snap down to his hand which was now resting on her knee. Priest Riddle had never touched her like this, he had always kept his distance as if he knew what she was thinking of late at night - a teasing distance she had always cursed. Up until today.

“I, well,” she heavily swallowed, focused on the patterns his thumb was drawing into the fabric of her dress. Heat simmered in (y/n)’s stomach, threatening to spill through her system like sacred wine staining the white cloth covering their altar, leaving stains that may never fade again. “I have sinful thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts, (y/n)?” She could tell that he was enjoying this, the way she shuffled around on her spot, how she kept staring at his hand, how she had to stop her hand from touching him.

“About being touched.” It was just a whisper, rolling off her tongue before she could stop herself. She was sure that her face was hot, leaving her shaking while his grasp on her knee grew tighter.

“Touched how?” His tongue kissed his teeth before his smile grew wider, dripping with a darkness that left her shaking. He had her trapped, there was no way out of Priest Riddle’s grasp on her body and soul. “Like this?”

His hand wandered up her thigh, softly stroking the fabric while she buried her teeth in her lower lip. (Y/n) could only shake her head, knowing that she would struggle to explain to him how she imagined him touching her, unfamiliar with all these kinds of sensations.

“Take my hand, show me where, (y/n).” Her hand was shaking, trembling while finding his warm, big one. He interlaced his fingers with hers as she let go of a shaky breath. And with her eyes flickering up to his darkening ones, (y/n) brought his hand up her thigh, towards her clothed heat. The raspy chuckle ripping through him made her straighten her spine, wondering what he’d do to her.

“Have you ever been touched before, sweetheart?” (Y/n) once again shook her head.

A soft gasp left her as his fingers pressed against her core, teasing her through the layers of clothing. Her left hand found the edge of the bench, needing to hold onto something, while the other found his wrist. She didn’t move his hand away, only kept holding onto him as if she had to make sure that this wasn’t just a dream.

“You see, (y/n), this is nothing sinful, nothing you need to be ashamed of.” His fingers pressed against her bundle of nerves, making a quiet moan claw through her. Guided by his chuckles and her gasps, he added more pressure to his touch.

“Tell me what you think of, (y/n). What do you feel when you think of being touched?” His voice grew lower, adding a raspy layer she’d never forget about again. With her breath hitched in her chest, she let him spread her thighs further, giving his hand more room to rest between them.

“It makes me crave more, I feel light, loved by you.” It left her before she could stop the word from being spoken out loud. She felt his eyes on her face, drawing her eyes to him to study the sinister smile that grew more dangerous by the second. The words had pushed her into a grave, a grave she had dug for herself and will never be able to crawl out of again.

“You imagine me doing it?” A nod was thrown his way before another moan left her. Her body was tingling, focused on the way he moved his fingers faster, making her panties grow damp. She had never managed to go further than this, pulling her fingers from her panties before she could fall over the edge, scared of what was awaiting her.

But today she wasn’t scared. Today she craved the sensation she had read about many times before. A part of her had hoped that she’d experience the first one with him, a slim chance that had now suddenly turned all too real.

“You know, I think of touching you too, sweetheart. I crave to hear those sweet sounds you make, I wonder how soft your skin will feel beneath my fingers, I touch myself to the thought of fucking you.” The gasp that ripped through her was loud, louder than intended. But Priest Riddle didn’t stop touching her, he only added more pressure, forcing her hand to find his forearm to claw her fingernails into his skin.

She could tell that the high was close, about to claw through her as if the Devil himself was possessing her, leading her straight towards the fiery pits. But she’d take it all, every high and low - if it meant being touched like this by Priest Riddle.

“My sweet girl, there is much I will have to teach you. But you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” The “Yes, Priest Riddle” she sobbed was violent, shaking through (y/n) while her body finally let go.

The sensation was blinding, making spots appear in her vision while his fingers kept moving, lazily circling her pulsing bundle while she rode out her first orgasm. Her body emenated heat, wrapping itself around the two while their minds held onto the sinful act they had just committed. Sins both would confess the next time they found themselves on their knees praying.

“Come by tomorrow evening for your next confession, sweetheart. And don’t forget your rosary.”

#Tom Riddle smut #Tom Riddle x Reader #Tom Riddle imagine #priest fic #Harry Potter smut

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mooishbeam · 1 year ago

Text

『♡』 Besotted

♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+

♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)

notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers.

It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.

Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette.

It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax.

But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.

How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks.

You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too.

Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day.

The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.

She wants...my name.

My name.

The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy.

How fucking dare they.

How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it.

On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets.

“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.

“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?”

“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.”

“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off.

“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.”

“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger.

“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand.

“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked.

“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.”

“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.”

You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you.

“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup.

“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.”

“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile.

“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked.

“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.”

“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you.

“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess.

“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it.

“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-”

“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped.

“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire.

Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance?

“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added.

“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.”

Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last.

The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning.

Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.

Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”

A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort.

You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.

When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful.

Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”

“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club.

“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”

“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair.

“Spill it” you demand.

“Spill what?”

“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.”

You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.”

“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”

“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend.

“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance.

“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem.

“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul.

“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.

“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration.

“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible.

“We love each other. That won’t happen.”

“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.

You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-”

Ding

That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag.

You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.

There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability.

“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word.

You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things.

He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal.

“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.”

You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles.

“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort.

“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone.

“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?”

“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion.

“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-”

“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.

“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.”

“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you.

The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.

He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.

“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.”

“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk.

You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest.

The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics.

You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen.

“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt.

“Ajax.”

“Hm?”

“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete.

You unfurl the cover.

Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.

The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry:

“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing my sun and star ♡ my blood and bone ♡ ♡ my goddess, my angel, the very essence of my existence ♡ ♡ my love is infinite and eternal you are destined to be mine ♡ ♡ forever, forever she is mine ”

You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.

“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile.

“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.”

You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage.

Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up.

“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf.

“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock.

“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.

“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.”

Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.

“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.”

The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney.

“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?”

“Merengue, she’s my favorite.”

“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down.

“Ugh, don’t remind me!”

“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise.

“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.”

“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back.

“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums.

“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.”

“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.

“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.

“You mind making another, Lyney?”

“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.

“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?”

Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.”

“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.”

“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely.

“How many times must I apologize?”

“Until you die.”

“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”

You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.”

“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours.

“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”

The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.”

“It was a surprise.”

“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know.

“Yeah, from back home.”

“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.”

“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.”

“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.”

“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-”

“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-”

“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.

“Excuse me?”

“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.

“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-”

Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp.

Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.

“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”

The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege.

The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.

You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run.

You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him.

“Ajax?”

“Yea?” he chirps.

“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek.

“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.

“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him.

“No baby, nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin.

“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips.

“Am I not good enough for you?”

“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on.

“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.”

His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.”

“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves.

“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight.

“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost."

“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers.

“You don’t need…me?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle.

“What if I just...lock you up?”

“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs.

“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.”

“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”

“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant.

“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical.

“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.”

Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.”

The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.

“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.”

“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.

Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.

But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.

Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair.

“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion.

“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back. Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes.

Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.

“Ajax.”

“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body.

“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.

A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.

You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips.

Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.

Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy.

Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud.

“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.”

“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.

“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.”

“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand.

“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question.

“Of course.”

“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing.

“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length.

“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!”

“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.

It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.

“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel.

“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.

“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”

No. It can’t be true.

You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.

“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.

“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?”

“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin au #ajax smut #ajax x reader #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia #i need ajax BAD #so sorry about the wait this time

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