#AND ALSO HIS LACK OF FUCKING PRIVACY

[unreadpoppy]

I think it's funny how the narrator basically asks you, before choosing to sign or not Raphael's contract, who do you trust more: The Emperor or Raphael, the devil himself.

And, honestly? I have no reason to trust the Emperor more than I trust Raphael.

Because give it or take, Raphael has been more honest about his shit than the Emperor. The first time you meet him, he shows you he's a devil. He kept his part of the deal after we killed the orthon, and even now, he straight up tells us what he's going to use the crown for.

The Emperor, however, has been lying to us since the begining. Like, him lying about his identity was a HUGE no no for me. I "understand" that he didn't want to scares us due to being a mind flayer, but at that point in game (when he shows his true self), we've already met Omelumm, who is a mind flayer but who tried to help us. Also, his instance on the "eat this tadpole, embrace your powers" is very iffy to me cause like dude i'm not doing it. Like you already lied about your true identity, why should I trust you with this bullshit?

Also, since I'm comparing the Emperor to Omelumm, I might as well compare Raphael to the other devil who is out there offering deals: Mizora. Mizora lies, adds shit that only makes Wyll's life harder. We have every reason not to trust Mizora, beyond the fact that she's a devil (which, i'm not gonna lie, i feel like a reason there's such a push against raphael's deal is bc he is a devil and y'know how religion messes with that But anyways, i'm not gonna get into that).

The Emperor looks worse in comparison to Omelumm, but Raphael looks better in comparison to Mizora, is basically what i'm trying to get here.

Also also, if you talk with Korilla, she legit says that Raphael's a good boss, treats her better than a FREAKING GOD did. Like, honestly, I (and i really only mean I,me,myself) up until this point in the game have no freaking reason to not trust Raphael. Like, ffs, he didn't even ask for my soul in exchange.

Anyways, this is MY opinion, MY thoughts on the choice my character has done.

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader

requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)

a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.

He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.

And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.

He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.

His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.

“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.

And then he pulled away.

His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”

Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.

“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.

“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”

Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”

She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.

“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”

“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”

They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.

But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”

She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”

Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.

“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”

He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.

He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.

“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”

It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.

She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.

“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.

“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”

His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.

“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.

“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”

Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.

“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.

“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”

The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”

“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”

It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.

She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.

Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.

She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.

Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.

By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.

“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.

She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.

“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”

She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.

“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”

She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”

Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”

Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.

“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”

She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.

Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.

“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”

“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”

Sam smiled. “Guilty.”

Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”

He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”

She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”

[hannieehaee]

Member walking into svt member x reader having sex

another member walking in on member and their gf

18+ / mdi

content: established relationship, being caught having sex, smut, second hand embarrassment, mentions of a crush in some of these, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2156

a/n: idk if these even make sense i wrote them all at completely different times and i have no idea if i even repeated members oops also not proofread </3

masterlist

seungcheol -

knowing about seokmin's crush on you, seungcheol couldn't help but feel genuine annoyance as, out of all people, seokmin happened to walk in on seungcheol eating you out, giving him the perfect view of your unfiltered nude body along with the blissed out look on your face. what made things worse was that it had taken the both of you a good thirty seconds to notice the door had been opened by a gaping lee chan who just seemed unable to close his mouth nor move a single bone in his body.

seungcheol would have to take matters into his own hands and yell at the boy to get the hell out, grumbling at knowing that seokmin's crush would likely just intensify after this. he'd have to take out these frustrations on you, making sure you were as loud as possible in order to at least assert some dominance.

jeonghan -

he's a fucking freak, he'd probably like it. you were facing away from the door, riding him as you threw your head back and had your eyes closed shut. he'd be able to see behind you, spotting minghao as soon as he accidentally walked in on you. he'd be shocked for a total of two seconds before smirking at minghao and inciting you into being louder for him (though without giving you any indication that a third person had appeared).

surprisingly to jeonghan, minghao wouldnt leave. he'd stay frozen in place staring at your form and hearing the lewd sounds of skin slapping and the pretty whines both you and jeonghan were letting out. it would take him a bit to slap himself out of it, suddenly leaving in a rush and shutting the door closed without realizing, thus finally alerting you. eventually jeonghan would let you in on what happened and continue to tease minghao about it for ever and ever.

joshua -

joshua was conflicted. one one hand, he felt mortified at vernon walking in on him ramming his hips against your ass in a desperation you'd only ever really see in a wild animal (specially since you were also in a pretty compromising position), but on the other hand, he felt kinda proud at drawing such an expressive reaction out of his usually stoic friend.

vernon was nearly impossible to scare, and almost even more impossible to embarrass. and the sight of you and joshua fornicating had just caused both at the same time. however, any semblance of pride left joshua as soon as he detected even the smallest trace of lust in vernon's eyes as his eyes remained on your form. what the hell was he even still doing here? after cursing him out with some very diverse language, vernon finally left with a hurried apology, leaving joshua with the task of putting you in the mood again after such a weird interaction.

jun -

even after all these years, jun had not yet grown used to the lack of privacy that came along with having twelve men around him at all times. he had learned to manage it, but there were instances in which he simply needed his very well deserved privacy. such as in his intimate moments with you. unfortunately, his brothers had grown too used to lack of privacy among each other, meaning that walking in on you was only a matter of time. and it had to be seungcheol of all people.

being the polite boy he is, jun was unable to even yell at the older man when he walked in and remained frozen without even thinking of making an immediate exit. he'd splutter a bit, barely being able to cover you up with a nearby blanket before coming to his senses and realizing it was completely acceptable for him to yell at his leader for freezing up at such an uncomfortable moment for you. upon also snapping out of his trance, seungcheol would apologize and leave, though the damage had been done. jun would now have to go to sleep completely blue balled because of his friend.

soonyoung -

sure, he was close with jihoon, but that didn't mean he wanted him to be privy to every intimate detail of his life, specially not what he got up to with you behind closed doors. even though he knew jihoon wasn't a perv by any means, and that him walking in on you had been nothing but an accident, he would still react exasperated in the heat of the moment.

he would immediately notice the new source of light entering the room as he railed you into the mattress. fortunately for him, you had been pinned down under him and your front was facing the door, meaning that all jihoon saw before soonyoung spluttered around for the covers had been him humping at you from above. an embarrassing image to share with a friend, but at least he kept the goods (you) to himself.

wonwoo -

a smirk. small but still fully present. wonwoo could've sworn he saw a smirk of satisfaction on jeonghan's face as he walked in and stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on all fours and wonwoo's hips going crazy against your ass. of course, of all people, jeonghan would find such moment amusing. he knew his friend to be a bit unpredictable in how he reacted to certain things, but wonwoo had not expected him to quite literally stop and stare.

wonwoo, like any reasonable man, had frozen in shock at the intrusion. it had taken him a few moments to actually pull out of you and cover you as much as his own bare body would allow. he also had to take it upon himself to yell at jeonghan to get the hell out. this instance would cause both you and wonwoo to feel awkward around jeonghan for a few days. the older man's smirk would not leave him during those few days, only making you and wonwoo even more sheepish around him.

jihoon -

had it been anyone else, maybe he wouldnt have had a problem, but it had to be mingyu. he already felt some type of way about the way in which mingyu would occasionally flirt with you (he knew his friend had a flirty personality, but still!!), so it did not help to know that mingyu now knew what you looked like in the throes of passion, much less the fact that the man in question stood there watching for a good minute.

in this situation, jihoon had to take whatever means necessary to protect your privacy (though it was already too late) throwing you off him without thinking and throwing a pillow on top of you to cover you as much as a measly pillow would allow. after this, like an idiot, he would grab his boxers and chase after mingyu, completely forgetting that he left you completely confused at what had just happened.

seokmin -

it's not that seokmin was a jealous man. nor had he ever felt insecure in your relationship. however ... having his very handsome friends around his very pretty girlfriend would sometimes leave him feeling a bit ... off. like now. specially now. an instance in which he had been making love to you, passionate in the way he thrust into you and licked into your mouth. up until your mouth left his own to look at the sudden intrusion that had just entered the room. wonwoo. a very shirtless and very wide-shouldered wonwoo.

after some moments of the three of you simply staring at one another in shock, seokmin finally took action and covered you up, disliking the way in which wonwoo's eyes had made their way to your nude body, and specially not liking the concept of you and his friend looking at one another (almost completely) in the nude, no matter if it was merely an accident. he would sulk about this for days, needing reassurance from both you and wonwoo about the unfortunate incident.

mingyu -

why did seungkwan have to be so damn nosy? why couldnt he just take mingyu's half-assed excuse about 'being sick' and let him go back to his hotel room to rest instead of joining the members in impromptu karaoke? maybe if he had just left the situation alone, he wouldn't have had to be chased out of the room by a very naked mingyu for screaming as soon as he saw mingyu folding you in half on his bed.

okay, backtracking a little ... maybe mingyu was the first one to scream. but he wasnt expecting any interruptions during his alone time with you, okay?? he screamed in shock, then seungkwan screamed in shock, then he's pretty sure he heard soonyoung screaming from the front door of the hotel room, which had been enough for mingyu to act on a whim and throw a blanket on top of you, grabbing some boxers and chasing seungkwan (and seemingly soonyoung) back into their rooms all while sporting a boner.

minghao -

why. why did he forget to lock the door again. that was his immediate thought at soonyoung excitedly running past his door without considering that minghao mightve been busy on the other side of it. and he was. as he was currently pistoning into your cunt from behind, having you arching your back for him in a way that gave him a delicious view of your ass. a view that was meant for him only.

hoshi became embarrassed and sheepish almost immediately, realizing that, yet again, his enthusiasm got the best of him and put him in an awkward situation. he'd sheepishly make his way out as he avoided eye contact. minghao would simply sigh and face palm internally, giving you no time to react as he began fucking you again. hoshi would have some trouble making eye contact with either you or minghao for the following week.

seungkwan -

not him. anyone but him. chan? did chan, of all people, have to become privy to the inner workings of your figure? something which was meant to be reserved for seungkwan's eyes only? he'd notice chan's presence immediately, screaming at him to get the hell out as he scrambled to cover you up. in the meantime chan would be frozen in place, with his eyes very clearly zoned in on your tits, causing kwan to grow even more frustrated.

in what felt like an eternity (but was actually under two minutes), chan would finally exit the room and leave a very exasperated seungkwan behind. he'd be too bothered to finish what you guys were doing, now needing you to calm him down from the annoyance he felt at chan, knowing that the boy whom he bantered with every day could now add the image of your nude body to his spank bank.

vernon -

he would be far too lost in the pleasure he felt as you rode him, eyes closed and face buried in your tits as he bit licked absentmindedly. you'd be the one to notice jun's sudden appearance, widening your eyes but making no other indication of shock. jun would react similarly, though his eyes would swim from your face to your tits (or what he could see from them through vernon's head in the way) to the way you ground against his friend.

for some unknown reason to both you and jun, the two of you would maintain eye contact as you started rutting against your boyfriend harder and faster, making him groan and moan against you as he reached his peak. jun would leave when he felt like he couldnt handle any more, now thinking of you in a completely different way. you'd confess what had happened to vernon afterwards (after he inquired as to what made you fuck him so animalistically ..), which would surprise him and weirdly turn him on.

chan -

chan had never expected that joshua's usually confident demeanor would finally crumble at the mere sight of your blissed out appearance as chan knelt between your legs. your entire body was facing the door from which joshua had come in, your breasts were bare, your eyes were crossed, your mouth was agape, your body was contorting itself at the pleasure, your cunt was obstructed by chan's mouth as he desperately sucked and licked at you, moans going in tune with your own. the sight was out of any man's dream.

but it was interrupted very quickly. chan immediately felt a new source of light, making him get up without a second thought and cover you up as much as he could in the heat of the moment (even if it meant exposing himself in the process – you were the priority). chan had never seen joshua so sheepish as he tried to smoothly make his way out of the room. joshua had never seen chan so serious as he cursed at him to get out (nor had he ever seen chan's girlfriend look so enticing ...).

[aluraveil]

Lisa im having major braunrot about blade fucking Darling in his Mara struck state 👀

imagine how rough he would be <3.. im getting horny just thinking abt it 🥰

ooh yes anon!! blade would be extra possessive esp when the mara hits him!! plus his cock would be much thicker and harder.. poor darling. thank you for the food anon!!

~

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒..

Pairing: Blade x Female Reader (ft. Kafka)

TW: Yandere-ish?? Masterbation, lots of smut, vaginal penetration, bedroom activities basically. Everything is consensual here.

MINORS DNI. 18+ only.

~

Blade has time periods that occur every month due to being mara struck where he sorta becomes.. a completely different person. When he’s in the mara struck state, he becomes more.. insane for the lack of a better word.

He was already possessive of his darling before, but during this state, he becomes ten times if not more possessive. Blades mental state becomes more deranged and downright crazy. He’s more angry and more aggressive due to the painful memories that flash back to him. Blade also acts as if he’s in an animal in heat because of how horny he becomes. His cock becomes bigger and stretches out wider and the veins pop out more. His dick is flushing an angry shade of red and the tip is dripping out pre-cum. His cock is painfully erect and it always stretches through his boxers hence why there’s a large bulge forming in his pants.

Blade always has to deal with his.. problem by himself by sneaking off during a mission to hide in a private place such as a bathroom stall or just anywhere where there’s privacy for him and his horniness. He sits himself on his bed in the room that he’s currently staying in for a mission. What a pain, he grumbles as his bandaged hands quickly undo his belt and fumbles with his zipper. He shudders as his cock is finally freed from the confining place and he could almost cum from the feeling of the cold air hitting it. His hands work hastily as he masterbaits. He moans at how pleasurable it felt as his hands began moving up and down went faster and faster, until finally his dick splashes out thick ropes of cum and it squirts everywhere on his bed and dirties his pants. During his Mara struck state, his cum becomes more thick and the duration that it comes out becomes even longer. As for taste, it’s extra creamier and sweeter.

Kafka’s spirit whisper is able to help with some of the symptoms of his mara, such as utterly destroying his opponents, but she can’t do much about his.. hormones. Kafka tells him that her spirit whisper can be useful during missions but the best thing for him would be masterbation and having sex.

“Maybe Y/N could help you with it,” Kafka winks at Blade as she turns back to her magazine. Blade grumbles in pain as he leaves the Stellaron Hunter’s base as he makes the journey back to your shared home.

You weren’t aware about Blade’s tendencies due to the Mara quelling within him. But imagine to your surprise when you’re laying in your living room on the couch wearing one of your boyfriends shirts when Blade bursts the door of your shared home in hushed, raggedy breathes. His shirts covered in blood and his hair is slightly messy. When Blade sees you, he almost couldn’t restrain himself from pouncing on you. Fuck, you looked so gorgeous wearing his shirt and your scent smelled just like him. Blades thoughts were clouded with nothing but lust as he imagined the ways he wanted to ravage your body right then and there.

“Blade? What’s wrong?” You asked him with your eyes full of concern.

Blade’s breathing becomes shallow as his finger points to a certain place. “The mara.” Blade isn’t a man of many words, you were confused on what he meant until you look down and oh. You quickly catch on and realize he’s having another Mara flare up at that moment and he’s painfully horny.

“I can try my best.. and help if you would like- woah!”

You barely even finished your sentence before Blade lifted you up and rushed to your shared bedroom. He tosses you onto the mattress and he hurriedly rushes to undo his pants. You stare in awe as you look at how huge his cock had become. You could see the pre-cuz leaking out and how desperate it was for some friction. You and Blade have had sex many times in the past before, but the difference between now and then was big especially since this would be your first time having sex with him in his Mara struck state.

Blade’s bandaged hands begin to stroke himself and he groaned at the feeling. He quickly climbed on top of the mattress as he rushed to undo your clothing. Your shirt that you borrowed from him was quickly thrown and your laced panties were ripped off.

Blade immediately pounces on you and begins to push inch after inch of his cock into you. You cry out in pain because of how big and thick he is. Blade makes sure to savor every inch of your walls being wrapped around him and he groans at how tight you feel.

“M’gonna pound you,” He breathes out in rushed breathes as he begins to thrust in and out. “Gonna mark you up and make you mine..”

You moan at the feeling of Blade’s dick going in and out. It felt so good and you could feel every inch poking and prodding your insides. The bed began to shake as Blade started going rougher and rougher.

Unfortunately for you, Blades stamina is also increased a lot when he’s having a mara flare up. Which means that whenever you have sex with him during this, you can expect that he’s gonna be cumming inside you a lot and that you’re gonna be having rough sex for a couple of hours. You can also expect that from now on, you’ll be having sex with Blade during his mara flare up all the time since you so nicely volunteered to help him. You’re impressed and shocked with how Blade is able to have sex with you for such long periods of time and how hes able to bend and fold you in numerous positions as he thrusts in and out of your hole. At this point, know that you won’t be leaving the bedroom for at least a week every month.

After your first night of rough intercourse, Blade immediately reports back the good results to Kafka. She notices that whenever Blade is with you during his Mara flare ups, hes more calmer and hes able to control the Mara within him and keep himself more at bay. Meanwhile you’re laying on Blade’s lap with your clothed pussy is all used up and worn out from the abuse of his large cock while your arms, body, and neck are all covered in bite marks and hickeys. Blade has his arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his face on the side of your neck. He feels calmer now because his sweet girlfriend helped him.

Now imagine when you open the door to your shared home one day when you notice a pink present laying on top of your porch with a magenta ribbon. Curious, you open the box only to be greeted with a red laced lingerie set. Your face immediately heats up in embarrassment as you notice a note also placed inside the box.

“For Bladie’s next mara flare up ;)

-Kafka”

Your breath hitched as you feel a strong pair of arms wrap themselves around you. You realize it’s Blade as he nuzzled his face into your neck, then he notices the box you’re holding in his hand.

“Pretty.” He mumbles, “I want you to wear that for me.” You could feel his bulge start to harden as he grinds himself against your ass. “The mara is coming back..” Blade says with a hushed voice, “Be a good girl and help me.”

Well who were you to deny your boyfriend access? After all, you loved him a lot and you were of course willing to help him contain the Mara <3

~

[cryptfile]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ࣪ over the moon [ benedict bridgerton x wife!reader ]

summary — based on a request but went slightly off with it aka when your husband starts to stay up painting till late you start plotting a good plan to make him go to bed with you and actually rest instead.

warnings — pure fluff, since the rumors of sophie being latina sparked, personally went crazy with the information so it’s implied that reader is latina also, mentions of sex (nothing explicit,,, implied as part of a establish relationship).

side notes — English is not my first language, so if you find any mistakes i’m sorry in advance. this is for my latin girlies out here reading in tumblr, working extra hard to translate your works to bring new content to the page, tkm <3 reblogs, comments and likes are much appreciated,,,as brittany broski once said: i'm a benedict bridgerton believer, i'm a benedict bridgerton ally.

You really didn’t know what you were getting into when you accepted Benedict’s marriage proposal.

Nobody told you that loving an artist is a tricky thing, cause while you’re always giving Ben’s new ideas, you hate him at the same time when he’s at the art studio until late, painting as if the absence of light it’s not enough to separate him from the canvas.

God, it just drives you crazy. He lacks of a schedule so he’s able to keep on painting till the rays of light start to appear again in the window he leaves opened all night long, and you’re afraid he’s going to catch a cold if he continues with his bad habits.

It suddenly hits him, that inspiration he ends up being the victim of, kissing you quickly as he escapes so fast you aren’t able to say anything when he disappears leaving you alone, you tolerate it at first, but the second? The third? He's just testing your patience at this point.

Your marriage has never been a troubled one, your husband does not make you mad most of the time and you enjoy being in love, those little things that made your heart skip a beat. You enjoy talking to him at night, spend your day in his art room as he encourages you to keep on writing that mystery book you're so into lately, bickering about how unfair life is for women your age — Hell, woman of all ages.

You love the sound of his laugh when he's careless about everything else, when he admits he doesn't want to go that night's party cause he just wants to stay home and fuck you senseless, his way of seeing art and explain it to you as something totally opposite as what you really think it is.

Thing is, you choose to marry Benedict Bridgerton cause you're indeed, head over heels with him. You've fall for the charming smile and sassy attitude that made you finally settle after years of being called a spinster. He finds the way to intrude the walls of the maze that was your heart and managed to plant a flag in the middle of it when you're confident enough to talk to him, let alone be seen in public after all the rumors you've heard that he was looking for a wife that season.

Even when you try to avoid him, he makes you fall in no time, following you around like a lost puppy, going to your house to spend time with your family, convincing everyone he's desperate to try the food your nana makes, cause you've talked about how good it taste all the time.

It's almost like he tricked you into make you love him, to have you between the brushes dipped in a funny smell water. He has you hooked by the first months and soon after? God, he has no education when he makes you love him, how he obliges you to stain yourself with all the things he was his daily life mixed with yours functioning so well.

It's a thorn nailed in the palm of your hand, those moments of privacy when the moon evolves you and your lover completely that are now being taken away. It's selfish, surely it's something childish so you don't want to say anything to your friends, or even Daphne Basset when she visits you to have an afternoon of tea free from her kids, asking you about how everything's going days before you came up with this great idea.

You can take the matter by your hands, that's why the next time Benedict's painting at midnight your mind works like a machine.

After all the time together you happen to know him more than you know yourself, the things he enjoys what he dislikes the most — So it's not very hard to plot against your husband.

Benedict doesn't seem to hear you when you silently glide through the half-open door, unaware as the light of the candle lights is not enough to illuminate the whole room, the fire he kept close to the canvas he was currently working on. He looks handsome all concentrated. His brows furrowed as he takes the pigments with his bare hands and mix them in his wood palette to get that exact color he was looking for. A shade of pink for a piece he hasn't shown you officially yet.

"What are you doing up so late?" you ask coyly when you are close to him, hearing how his breath hitched for a second before noticing it's you, your hands coming from behind just to intrude in his space close to the easel. He's taller than you, but it doesn't stop you from standing in your tiptoes, pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

You cannot hide that you're tired. You lost the track of time when you got out of bed, so when you have your husband close and finally smell that nice and subtle aroma he carries with him, you relax in his back, the sound of his heartbeat loud against your ear.

"You scared me for a second," he says with a grin, muscles relaxing under your touch. "Didn't hear you coming in."

He has dry paint on his neck, so while you're cleaning his skin with one hand, he leans into you, back pressed against your chest seeking for your warmth, that contact he always seems to enjoy, your attention in all the ways he can get it.

“Bed’s cold without you” you say, fingers on his recently trimmed hair. "Done waiting for'you."

He has the nerve to laugh at your words, slowly at first, the sound of it making your skin shiver. He's going to defend his choices, you know it, and you hate how much you enjoy it, the way he always seems to find an excuse making you totally offended as you retort something equally ridiculous.

"Just thirty more minutes I promise," he says pressing a kiss in the palm of your hand he so gently grabs. "If you stay with me like this, can do the work in twenty."

"You can fool anyone else with that Ben, not buying it" to be honest, you're just trying to contradict everything he says, far from what you thought doing first when you plotted against him. "You said the same last week, amor. Not falling for any more lies."

"Not falling huh?" he asks, lowering the wood palette to look at you, his eyes meeting yours when you're so comfortable pressing your chin on his shoulder, looking at the painting he was doing — "You've learned the lesson then?"

"Twenty more minutes mean an hour in Benedict's language," he's the one that's now offended when his mouth opens in disbelief "Turns out I know my husband, and we both know that’s way more than twenty minutes.”

He loves it. It’s almost a secret, but he loves how you demand his company, the way you don’t fold against anything and you stand for what you believe. He loves how you claim to know him, your lavender smell filling every single space available in the room as he smiles happily in response. He was so unsure of marrying you at first, but now he doesn’t know what his life would look like without you in the picture.

“Ah, I’m guilty as charge” he says, his own hand going to his chest like it saddens him to hear you talk like that. “Thought you wanted me to paint more.”

You've been encouraging him to show his art to more people, a small gallery that displayed his talent, but that’s using your words for his advantage.

“You little bastard, that’s unfair coming from you.”

“Woah woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Kiss you even” you stick your tongue out, and he’s suddenly turning you around to place a kiss in your forehead, making you move in front of him instead — “You wouldn’t even imagine.”

Benedict’s a romantic. A poet at heart, so he doesn’t let any opportunity slip to show his affection, his infinite devotion to you. His heart flutters in his chest and suddenly he’s kissing you, staining your white nightgown with the fresh paint of his hands and not caring about it at the slightest. Kisses you like he missed you, like he didn’t see you the whole day when in reality you’ve spent all day in the same house, baking cookies cause you’ve suffered from a burst of love to the kitchen.

“You’re not convincing me” you say between kisses, hands pressing you closer to him. “I’m not leaving this room without you.”

He chuckles at your words — “Not even ten minutes?”

He’s devastatingly handsome in a way that makes you stare at him, wonder what you did to make him so interested in you, so attracted to the point he has to marry you.

"No Bridgerton. Ni diez minutos." To be honest, the accent just makes him go weak at the spot. It's pathetic, but he cannot help it, his brain melts at the sound of your voice, even if he doesn't understand much of what you're saying. "Let's go to bed."

You know it's a weapon, your lips are on his face, and he forgets about everything else: How he's supposed to continue on working when your lips are kissing every inch of his face? Seems like an impossible task now that his hands are on your waist and all he can notice are your pink lips, how you're looking at him through half-lidded eyes cause you're sleepy, an smile that eclipses the rest.

Benedict's no longer worried of his painting. Hell, he cannot seem to remember what shade of pink he was so invested in finding before, but he don't care at all when he's the one now leaning in, kissing you with fervent love as he traces the outline of your lips, almost asking for permission to invade you before deepening the contact, tangling his fingers in the strands of your hair cause he simply cannot get enough from you.

"Take me to bed then, my beautiful wife."

He does not protest next. He loves every second of it, the slight force, your gentle touch when your guiding him through the cottage you two share in Wiltshire, the goosebumps in his own skin when you managed to get what you want.

You win. It's a war that Benedict never intended to win, a disaster he knew it would end up with the result of him leaving his work half done cause he cannot resist to the idea of being tangled with you in such an intimate way. He sleeps so well with you on his arms, burying his head on your hair as he relaxes beneath the sheets, the contact of your skin enough to make him have the best night sleep.

Can he resist it? He's neck deep. Talked about it with his brothers before, drinking too much as the words slurred together and he admits how you got him wrapped around your finger, so in love he would do anything to please you, let alone have your full attention — They surely made fun of him, but is it his fault? Being so in love with his wife?

"Can't say no to you," he says defeated "You know it."

In the privacy of the room you two share, you're washing his hands with a wet cloth, preventing him from getting the sheets dirty before pulling his linen shirt to the floor. It's so quickly, he don't seem to realize what you're doing until he's already in bed, covered with the thick duvet as he searches for you.

He realizes now he should have listened to you before, cause his back is surely happy now that he's able to rest, the weariness of being standing so many hours now falling over him as his eyes began to close by themselves.

"When are you going to stop working so late?" You ask, pressing your cheek against his chest as you hugged him, getting closer to him even when you stole more than half of the bed in the process. The second son of the Bridgerton family does not say anything about it, but instead, enjoys how needy you are of his touch, how you want him around.

"Inspiration always come late, angel" he tries to defend himself as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe it’s a curse.”

"Then i’m afraid i’ll have to drag you to bed every night," you protest. "Cause i'm not letting you stay all night in that studio, crazy man."

"Miss me too much in bed?"

"Hm, what if I do?"

"Cannot blame you," Benedict admits later, using the only traces of force he has left to caress your hair, fingertips against your scalp in a gentle massage. "I'm always missing you when you're not around."

Your heart skips a beat: How could you not be head over heels with this man? He always find the right words, what to say exactly.

Gently, your face come up to press a soft kiss against his lips, a quick one that’s not enough for Benedict when he makes you stay in the same position as he steals a much longer one.

Life is simple with him by your side, you know it cause you might as well be over the moon when you’re alone with Benedict Bridgerton.

Every. single. day.

my masterlist.

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve let out the greatest sigh he'd ever heaved. "I can't believe I have to fuck him."

Robin's head whipped to him so fast like he just said he was gonna jump off a building. "You don't have to."

"No I'm gonna", Steve said, eyes not leaving Eddie. He was biting his thumb like he couldn't wait to get alone with him.

Robin looked back at Eddie, who was filling up his plate with things from the picnic table. "I don't see it."

"Because you're a lesbian."

"With taste. And standards. I mean what exactly has got you twirling your hair right now?"

"I mean look at him!"

Eddie had a plate in one hand that already had an open burger on it. The fingers of his other hand danced like they were trilling a piano as he was deciding on what to put on the plate next. He grabbed some chips on the side and then placed the plate down to figure out what he condiment he wanted.

Eddie put his hand on his chin like it was the utmost important decision. Then he grabbed the mayo and the mustard in one hand and squeezed them in a swirl.

"You gonna kiss him with must-ayo breath?", Robin snickered.

"I wish I was that burger", Steve said as he watched Eddie sink his teeth into it. Steve bit his lip while Eddie was licking som stray sauce off his fingers and Robin felt uncomfortable.

"Um, do you, Eddie, and the burger want some privacy."

If Steve was being honest, he didn't fully trust himself to be alone in a room with just Eddie and whatever he was currently feasting on.

--------------------------

Eddie wasn't drunk. He wasn't even buzzed. No this particular evening, he was simply loopy on lack of sleep. He'd meant to go to bed, honest. But an idea popped into his mind and things kept adding in a delicious stew of inspiration and he just stayed up all night.

When Steve heard that, he nearly cursed him out for driving like that to his house.

"We were supposed to meet today, Steeeeve."

"It could've waited."

"Hmm, one doesn't make the king wait."

Eddie collapsed onto his couch and Steve thought he might conk out right away, but he was valiantly staying awake. Steve sat next to him and thought he might wait to see just in case Eddie fell asleep in the next 15 seconds.

Instead, Eddie reached out slowly with his pointer finger and booped Steve's nose. "It's so pointy", he said in a croaky voice. "Bet the girls loved that."

Steve snorted. "What?"

"When you ate 'em out."

"Dude!", Steve laughed. Eddie was always pretty candid, but this was another brand.

Then Eddie began to draw circles on Steve's face with his finger, all while drawing out that croaky sound before saying "Phooone hoooome."

Steve giggled and Robin finally spoke up from the loveseat.

"Yeah, I'm still here. But you know, movie night can wait or whatever."

----------------------

Steve's hands were in his face as he sat on the edge of his bed. Robin was patting his back reassuringly.

"There, there."

"It's just... Robin you should've seen him."

"I've seen him, babe."

"Not like this he was just-he was so into it!"

Steve had gone to pick up Eddie from the Wheeler's. He figured he'd find the other either with Mike, or maybe even Nancy. But no. Eddie had been in the backyard, in the middle of a very intense game of pretend with Holly. It had taken Steve everything not to strip and beg Eddie to give him his own babies.

"Have I...always been this much of a slut?", Steve asked.

Robin thought for a second before answering. "Yyyeah. But also, you've always been a goofball. Now that I think about it, you and Nancy had kinda an opposites attract thing. But maybe you don't need to opposite. You need someone as silly as you."

"Steve!", Eddie nearly crashed through his door. "We're making a blanket fort downstairs, you in?"

Steve rubbed his face and looked to Robin, admitting defeat with his eyes and then looked to Eddie. "Yeah. I really do."

[euphorajeon]

For 1k celebration! How about my time and jungkook with it??

Also congratulations my love 💖

opposite of sun

— request: jeongguk + my time - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 1.8k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst (it's rly mild i promise!), they're best friends (i rly gotta stop writing this trope,,,)

— summary: jeongguk has a peculiar way of dealing with time difference.

— author's note: hello luv! thanks for requesting :) i really enjoyed writing this one eheh i hope you enjoy reading it too~

masterlist

There are a few things Jeon Jeongguk does not like about his life as a singer.

One, that constantly looms above his head, is how busy his schedule is. His days are filled to the brim with performing, song recording, photoshoots, video shoots, company meetings, and a long list of things in between. Some days, he could barely stay awake. Some days, he forgot the last time he ate. Some days don’t feel like days because all he saw was the inside of a building. Some days he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Two, the lack of privacy. There’s always someone watching his every move, waiting for him to fuck up. This extends to his closest people as well, his parents, his brother, even his non-famous best friend, you. Jeongguk could not forget the time he accidentally revealed he has a long-time girl best friend on a livestream. The media went crazy, trying to make headlines that would cause the most noise with wild rumors and assumptions. It took the PR team almost a month to divert the media attention to something else, along with a livestream ban for Jeongguk for three months.

Three, the one he’s facing right now, is time difference. As a singer, Jeongguk travels a lot to other time zones outside of KST, oftentimes resulting in jetlag. It’s not too troublesome when he visits another Asian country, the time difference only one to two hours, but when he’s on the other side of the world like now, it feels like his whole world is a jumbled mess.

Jeongguk plops down on the couch in his hotel room, glancing at the clock on his phone screen before tapping the FaceTime button. His reflection stares back at him as the call rings, the only thing visible on the screen just his eyes and sweaty strands of hair. He’s running his fingers through his damp hair when the call finally connects.

“Sorry, sorry! I— wow, eyes. And forehead,” you say in lieu of a proper greeting. Jeongguk grins, even though you can’t see it.

“Hi, Bun,” he greets. “Whatcha doin’?”

Jeongguk’s nickname for you is fairly new, only conjured up after his accidental slip on livestream, but it rolls off his tongue easily as if he’s been calling you Bun since you were both thirteen, when your friendship first started. It stems from his fear that anything has ears and if he says your name, someone somewhere could use it to dig up information about you. Although you’d rolled your eyes at him the first time, he knows you appreciate the thought.

Also, contrary to your friends’ beliefs, bun here stands for bread, not bunny. It’s known to the people who know you that you love bread. Steamed bun, milk bun, melon bbang, chocolate bread, cheese sticks, anything. But despite this knowledge and your protests, your friends still hoot in teasing whenever Jeongguk video calls you and drops the nickname. Jeongguk tries to prevent his grin from blossoming more when he sees you pretending to ignore your friends’ teasing.

“Studying,” you answer with a roll of your eyes, before a grin matching the one on Jeongguk’s face overtakes your feature. “What about you, superstar? Bet it’s more exciting than…” you glance at the paper in front of you, “the study of the economic impact of singer Jeon Jeongguk on South Korea.”

Jeongguk laughs. “You are not studying about my economic impact on SK.”

You hold up a finger, snatching the paper off the table to shove it into your phone camera. Then the pair of your eyes appear above said paper, hogging Jeongguk’s screen much like his eyes are hogging yours. “Read, Jeon Jeongguk. Read,” you say menacingly.

The words on your paper blur in his sight as he focuses more on the dark bags under your eyes. Even through a shitty video call connection, it’s apparent that you haven’t had a good rest for some time.

“Bun, have you been sleeping okay?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you stare at him like he has three heads. “Jeon, I’m a college student. Asking me that at two AM is like asking you if you’re resting okay.”

Jeongguk sits up from his leaning back position on the couch, alarmed. “It’s two AM over there? It’s— fuck, it’s two AM. What are you doing still studying, Bun? You should be sleeping right now.”

All the exhaustion he felt from the flight, the jetlag, the rehearsal right after just evaporates the moment he realizes you’re still studying in the hour you should be sleeping. He should’ve been there with you, studying and reminding you to get some rest when the hours got late. He wishes he were there next to you.

“He’s a celebrity so he wouldn’t know what this feels like, huh?”

That was one of your friends, off camera. It sounds a bit distant but Jeongguk caught his words perfectly. Although he’s not wrong, Jeongguk could feel bitterness rising in his chest, one he fights so hard to suppress lest this causes a fight between you and him.

“Sorry, Jeon, he’s just stressed about the midterms. Don’t take it to heart, yeah?”

Jeongguk forces a smile on his lips, one tight pull of muscle that’s far from his grin earlier. “No, he’s right. I wouldn’t know how it feels like being stressed about the midterms just like he wouldn’t know how it feels rehearsing for a performance only an hour after you landed in New York. It’s okay.”

Ah, the bitterness still slips out. He’s tired. He feels guilt slowly replace the bitterness when he sees your downcast eyes. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Fuck.

“Sorry, Bun. Not your fault.” He sighs.

“It’s fine. We’re all tired.” You give him a small smile. “You said you were rehearsing for a performance? What performance?”

“Surprise performance, actually. It’ll be in Times Square later at six.”

There’s a gasp from your side of the call, before a short squeal is heard. You glance at someone behind your phone, letting out a chuckle. “You just spoiled a surprise performance to a very excited Yeseo,” you say.

“Since when do your friends listen to my songs?” Jeongguk laughs disbelievingly. He knows your college friends by name, and as far as he does, no one in your friend group actually listens to his songs enough to get excited at the prospect of a surprise performance.

“Last week. She heard ‘Yes or No’ when I was going through your album and hasn’t shut up about it since.”

“Thanks, Yeseo,” Jeongguk says. “It’s on the setlist for the performance later.”

A bang on the table. Then Yeseo’s excited shriek sounds, making your other friends on the table groan. Tell your boyfriend to shut up! one of them says. You stuck your tongue out at whoever it was before getting up from your seat, taking your phone with you. The image of you from a low angle as you walk away from your friends almost makes Jeongguk chuckle. He misses being able to see your double chin live in front of his eyes.

“Apologies for Yeseo. She’s very excited,” you say when you’ve settled down somewhere more quiet. “Are you excited for the performance later? Confident?”

“I will be if I know you’re watching,” Jeongguk hums. He fixes his best puppy dog look as he looks at you with so much hope in his eyes. “Will you? It’ll be on YouTube, six PM New York time.”

“That’s … hold on,” you tap around on your phone, the image of you on his screen shaking as you do. “That’s seven AM here in Korea. I’d probably be asleep, though. Midterm’s at nine.”

Jeongguk pouts. “Time difference sucks.”

“It does,” you agree. “But time zones aside, our times are already different. Like, if you have a recording for a music show in Korea at six AM KST, I still wouldn’t be able to attend. Because—“

“That’s why you never come? Because the recording is always early in the morning?”

“No, because they’re always on weekdays. And I have class. Or work. I’m not one of your rich fans, you know.”

“But you’re my best friend,” Jeongguk sulks, his frown deepening.

“Your college student best friend. Who has classes, essays to write, papers to do, midterms, finals…”

Jeongguk is quiet. There’s a pop up notification on his phone, telling him rest time is over in 15 minutes. His manager must’ve set this reminder when he was rehearsing, knowing very well about his tendency to lose track of time when given free time. Suddenly, all your differences flash before his eyes, and it feels like a gaping chasm in your friendship. Did you always feel this far away from him?

“I wish I were a college student too,” he whispers wistfully. “Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“You are, though?” you sound genuinely confused. He doesn’t know if you missed the longing tint in his voice or just decided to ignore it. “You’re still enrolled in Global Cyber University, right?”

“Yeah, but,” Jeongguk sucks in a breath, searching for words that say what he wants to convey without actually saying them. He comes up empty, though, with every combination of words sounding as desperate as the last. Eventually, he settles on: “It’s different.”

“Ey, it’s different to accomodate people like you. No one in their right mind would go to a regular college if they have a schedule as crazy as yours.” You shake your head while waving your hand around, misinterpreting what he means by different. “You know, your fans must be so proud of you. Attending college while performing all around the world.”

“Are you proud of me?” The words tumble out before Jeongguk’s brain can catch up. In hindsight, it’s a normal thing to ask your best friend. But maybe, in the tiny corner of his mind, sits something he doesn’t want to admit yet: maybe he wants more.

“I am,” comes your instant reply. “I always am, Jeongguk.”

In the darkness of the night, under a single lightbulb lighting up your face, Jeongguk sees 15-year-old you, hugging his lanky figure and saying you were proud of him for finally debuting. Your dreams! They have come true! you’d said. Your eyes were shining, hopeful, excited for what’s to come for him. Although you’ve lost the child-like enthusiasm, Jeongguk knows you’ll always support him in anything he does.

Now he’s the one who’s lost. In your eyes, dim with exhaustion but full of warmth still. You have your cheek in your hand, lips moving. The words you’re saying sound like a buzz in his ears, only catching a stray one that’s unusual for your vocabulary: melancholic.

You’re still talking. He doesn’t care.

“Do you want to come to New York?”

Time difference sucks. Jeongguk’s solution?

Get rid of it.

a/n: thank you for reading! requests are still open but pls note it will take time for me to write them all hehe

[strawberryblue-blog]

Pedri nsfw alphabet

A to Z. NSFW alphabet.

—Pedri Gonzalez.

summary: request.

warnings: yes. +18. smut, explicit content, headcanon.

words count: +950.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

Too affectionate probably one of the most affectionate in the world. He likes to touch you, kiss your forehead, shoulders and nose, caress your back for hours after making love. He loves to whisper random things, laugh and have fun until you fall asleep.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

In you everything but especially your mind. He thinks you are such a cool person, so smart, so special. The way you think, express yourself, free yourself, he admires you.

In him, it's probably his back. Since he knows it's your favorite part of him, he likes it when you leave your nails marked on it or when you hold on tightly to him.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

There is nothing deeper and purer than cumming inside you, he loves it. The sensation of feeling you so deep inside him, when he can feel your heat, your soul. Since the first time you tried, he never used protection again. As long as you take care of each other in other ways, he will always choose to end up inside you.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

He really likes it when you wear sexual lingerie. It may not be that far-fetched but Pedri loves it when you feel sensual with your own body and that makes him feel good too.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Basic to normal. He's pretty traditional and knows a few things to make you feel good but maybe he lacks a little more experience and teachings.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Definitely vanilla sex. Missionary is his favorite position and he wouldn't trade it for anything. Although he likes it when you ride him, he prefers you to be underneath him.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

Serious. Too serious. Not much to say. Pedri is a man of principle and not at all teasing.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He downplays it a bit to the point that it's just a little hair. But he prefers it that way, it makes him feel manly and if it doesn't bother you, then he doesn't have a problem. As for you, he doesn't care either. He knows it's hurtful and time and money consuming, so he doesn't care if you have it or not, it's your choice.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

Very romantic and caring. He makes each session a unique and true experience of love and passion that leaves you completely in love with each other.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

Not so much. On a scale of 1 to 10, it would be a 4. Especially when you're away from him and he wants to release tension or sometime for fun but it's not routine.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Seeing your eyes directly when he makes love to you, kissing your breasts, kneading them, sucking them. He's not a man of many fetishes but you riding his face might be one of his more recent fetishes.

L - location (places to have sex)

His room or yours. Somewhere private where both of you are comfortable and satisfied, he doesn't like open or public places, like kitchens, living rooms or exterior. He prefers a quiet place, where you can finish what you start and no one or nothing interrupts you.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

You kissing his neck gently is the main reason he might get turned on. He also likes it when you stroke the beginning of his hair at the nape of his neck with your fingers, it makes him relax and sometimes has side effects on him.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

Anything that involves hurting you or degrading you or using ugly nicknames. You are his light, he would never do anything to hurt you no matter if it's a game. He is a gentleman.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He is probably more about giving than receiving, as he thinks his duty is to give you the maximum of pleasure, because he knows that sometimes women don't get pleasure from penetration, so he will see to it that you get what you deserve.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

Slow, romantic, gentle but deep and passionate. Occasionally he can be dirty and rough, especially if it's been a long time since you've seen each other, but he prefers to be more gentle and romantic.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. Sometimes he has a lot of needs and would accept that, although he would like you to have all the time to enjoy yourselves.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

No. As I said before, he is not a risk taker. Pedri is quite traditional and that doesn't mean he doesn't do things right. But he doesn't like to take risks that involve some kind of interruption or lack of respect.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two or three rounds depending on the moment. Sometimes when he has training he will last only one round but if he's on his days off, he won't give you a break.

T - toy (you use toys?)

No. He has never used them before and it's not something he's interested in at the moment. He understands if you want to have them or recommend using them but if it were up to him he wouldn't use them. At most he might use some handcuffs but no more than that.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Medium. He doesn't like to play with you so much but sometimes it's unavoidable and he likes to take you to the edge to make it more pleasurable.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

Not so loud but sometimes he lets himself get carried away and can be surprised. Although in you, he really likes it when you scream, let loose and show how much you like it.

W - wild card (small random story)

Your boyfriend's kisses moved across your shoulders and chest as you stifled the gasps that came from your mouth. Your fingers were tangled in his hair and you were gently gurgling on them, Pedri's tongue was working wonders on your skin. The trail of kisses started down your body as his fingers caressed every nook and cranny, his tongue left wet trails around your belly and continued down until it reached your thighs.

Your chest boiled with heat as you felt his breath hit your crotch and you wanted to scream for him to touch you. Pedri smiled seeing you in such a way, your chest was rising and falling, your cheeks were red, your lips kept biting down holding back the urge to moan loudly.

The first kiss on your center made you sigh harshly as you took in as much air as possible. You felt so wet you couldn't take it anymore.

With his tongue he licked your slit and pressed his finger a little on your clit making you gasp. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you felt him lick you harder again.

The brush of his beard against your thighs made you moan in desperation, it was too pleasurable a tingle that made you shiver under his touch. Lately Pedri had grown his beard and you found that so attractive, so much so that you had fantasized about this moment. And now you were in heaven.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?)

It's somewhere between thick and thin, a little veiny and it's long. Perfect for you, perfect for him. He knows how to use it very well, it's his pride and joy.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?)

Honestly he can last quite a long time without intercourse so it's not a problem for him but if he has you with him, he will obviously take the opportunity and make you his every chance he gets.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He can stay up for hours if you're with him. Sometimes the adrenaline and excitement of the moment leaves him quite refreshed. So he likes to chat with you, play with you, cuddle and stuff.

After at least 10 orders I was finally able to bring it. Thanks for the support and filling my inbox 🤣 I hope you like it 💌 @jfbidnk757

[xinxiaogato]

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space. 

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall. 

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!? 

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head. 

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!” 

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Pleaseeeee I crave Jimmy x Curly's wife!reader let that envious bastard take what he believes he rightfully deserves, maybe even right in front of Curly as some kind of fucked up power play :)

WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT/RAPE/JIMMY BEING A MONSTER.

Please read at your own discretion,i might've went overboard,but this was my first attempt.

ever since the day that he laid his eyes upon you,he knew that he just had to make you his,no questions asked.

on that fateful day,when Curly decided to introduce you to his bestfriend,you immediately picked up an odd vibe from him...you didn't like how intensely he maintained eye contact with you whenever you were talking.. nothing wrong with being attentive,but it just felt as though he was staring right into your soul with those piercing brown eyes of his.

you didn't like how it started off as little thing,just the slight touch of hand,which you ruled off as accidents,because he was quick to apologise.

but then,the incessant attention started...it started off small...minor things,such as following you on every social media platform that you had. him being the first person to like all of your posts, commenting innocent little things...you still decided to think nothing of it as you thought that jimmy was simply just some guy without a social filter.

Oh how fucking wrong you were.

It didn't make sense how he wanted to move into you and your boyfriend's apartment because he got kicked out of his,it didn't make sense how curly...just let him...

You tried your best to explain to your innocent boyfriend that you didn't like this sudden turn of events,and the lack of privacy,since jimmy practically didn't let you have any alone time with curly. It's almost as if he just didn't know when to stop lurking.

Despite all,you still decided to trust your boyfriend's judgement.

Then,it finally happened. You awoke one night to sudden movements in your bedroom,you tossed to the side to find the bed empty...your boyfriend was missing, groggily you reached for your phone on the nightstand next to your bed, twitching your eyes you turned your phone on,with the silent humming of the AC in the background,accompanied by the sound of you breathing.

2:47 AM

Curly Bear 🐻❤️ : babe,sorry I didn't wanted to wake you....y'know how pretty you look when you sleep haha, didn't wanted to ruin it. The company called,they said there was some urgent paperwork that needed to be dealt with at the earliest. I had no choice sweet pea, don't worry I'll be back in no time. Love you.

You smiled at your phone,you were about to doze right off when you realised something......something felt..off. it was almost like a primal instinct kicking in,you felt the classic feeling that they talk about in horror stories ... You felt as if you were being watched. the feeling was so intense that you could practically feel the bile raising against your throat.

You gathered every ounce of courage that you had in you,and turned on your phone's flashlight.

there it was. there he was.

you felt as if you were gonna die.

there was jimmy,standing at the foot of your bed like a goddamn statue.

"Jimmy....?".

you wanted to yell out,but what came out was only a faint whisper.

Then suddenly as if the world had just stopped he pounced onto you like a fucking animal,you attempted to scream,but we was quick to place his hand on your mouth, conveniently stopping any noise from coming out.

'I had been waiting for this for so...so fucking long'.

you could practically see the craze in his eyes,those weren't the eyes of a human being..no no no...those eyes could only be compared to those of a deranged wild beast.

then out of no where,your clothes were suddenly ripped off of you,you could feel the cold air of the room pierce your skin painfully as you struggled to move or even breathe,his hand was also covering your nose. You whined,did everything in your power to stop him from doing what he was going to. But it was already too late.

without a single warning,you felt him push into you so hard, without any protection,no nothing. It hurt so fucking bad,you wanted to scream,to yell,to cry,but you could only just helplessly watch what that man whom your partner considered his 'best friend' was doing to you,he thrusted in and out of you as you were a ragdoll.

Jimmy then temporarily removed his hand from your mouth only to replace it with his own,he roughly smashed his lips onto yours,you could taste cigarettes, liquor and a hint of those mint jellies which he for some reason had a weird obsession with. his tongue travelled every corner of your mouth,while tears flowed through your eyes like a goddamn waterfall.

with his final thrusts,you could feel that he was coming to his peak,and with a final thrust,you felt the inside of your stomach get filled with something warm..you felt fuzzy, almost dumb,your face was covered with drool and your hair all scattered.

with all of it over and one,he suddenly placed a kiss on your forehead,and whispered,

"if you tell curly any of this,I'll make sure to do this in front of him the next time".

and with that he returned to his own room,as if nothing had happened,as if your entire life wasn't just turned upside down. as if he didn't just shatter a person into something they would never recover from.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 8

Scott Summers + cock cage or other bondage

Do you guys ever wonder what I listen too when I write smut? Lately it’s been system of a down, who’d have thought. This is also the same reader as in this post, cuz I’ve grown attached to him. Also, the fact that he’s as much of a bicycle as Wolverine is funny to me. think of this as a part 2 for that, at least in spirit.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Becoming more with Scott honestly didn’t change much with your dynamic. You two were still best friends, the best of bros, as some of the younger mutants liked to say. You two just kissed and were grossly flirty, enough for some of the younger x-men to start gagging loudly whenever you two got too affectionate.

Scott was worse with you than he was with Jean. With Jean there was still some professionalism or privacy when others were around. You had a tendency to grab Scott’s doors and just throw them right off the hinges, so it was no surprise to see you two leaning up against each other and mumbling flirty things back and forth.

That didn’t mean every part of your relationship was public. The mutants able to see through things understood people’s privacy, so the only person you had an inkling who knew what was going on was Logan. And that was only because you two had done it together before. You had not shared that fact with Scott, even though you loved when he got jealous.

But for the most part, nobody realized that Scott had started wearing thin bondage rope or ribbon under his everyday clothes. It was a tad harder to hide under his hero suit, so you guys just stuck to the cage when it came down to that, since you both wore cups during that time anyways.

It hadn’t even been your idea at first. You had maybe planted a few seeds, by mentioning that you knew how to do shibari and bondage, and Scott had stumbled upon your own cage that he hadn’t used in years but still kept around. Warren had some fantasies, alright? And who were you to judge, when he let you run your hands through his feathers when you’d fuck him from behind.

It had taken Scott quite a while to mention how much he actually liked the idea of bondage, shibari or other kinds of being locked up, but by god were you interested in helping him explore that. You two started out light, just tying some ropes around his body to get him used too it. It was hard to be completely immobile when you guys had lives like you did, what if something happened and you needed to suit up as quickly as possible?

But over time, Scott got used to it and wanted more. The moment he mentioned you locking his cock up and wearing the key you almost passed out, so much blood rushing to your second head you almost fell over. Scott knew he didn’t even have to wait for a reply from the way the lightbulb in the lamp started flickering, sparks of electricity popping between your teeth.

The first many times were only in the bedroom, with Scott whining and writhing on the sheets, or humping the mattress or whatever pillow he could find as he just couldn’t get hard, couldn’t get off how he wanted. Instead, all he could do was leak like a broken faucet as you flicked small safe amounts of electricity against his back and shoulders.

Over time Scott got more comfortable, and as someone who had for lack of a better word “been around the block” you let him come to you at his own pace. You knew what you liked, having tried out many things, so now you wanted to help Scott find his. Him asking you to tie him up for everyday use did have you lightheaded again, the bedside lamp actually popping this time, much to your lovers grumbling.

Using the thick sturdy ropes, you used in the bedroom wasn’t the best choice for everyday use, since it would be visible through his polos and jean, so you two settled on a nice sturdy ribbon in your favourite colour. And just to make Scott flush every time he had to go to the bathroom, you tied a nice bow around his caged cock, just because you could.

Scott didn’t last a full day the first time you did it, or the next, or the one after that, but you also knew it was a process and you were more than happy to give him his aftercare and praise. Soon enough though, Scott could go about his natural duties as the leader of the x-men, even with a nice stainless-steel cage wrapped around him, and a rougher but still easy to hide material wrapped around the rest of his body.

Your favourite part though, was still when the day was over, when you two got to cuddle up in bed. Or the times where Scott barely got into your shared room, before his knees buckled under him and he would crawl towards you, wanting so much that he could barely form words. Of course, you had trained him better, so you never did anything without his asking.

On days like this you got him tied up nicely, you had even brought up the idea of kink tape a few times, just to see him twitch and writhe in want. You didn’t feel daring enough to bring up those videos you’d seen of men completely taped up or hanging from the ceiling, not yet at least. You did have a gut feeling that Scott was watching the same stuff though, having seen his attention linger longer on thumbnails to those videos than others, when you two got off together.

It became quite common for you to not get off, at least when Scott got like this. Just seeing how much of a mess he turned into was satisfying enough, and after you had completely wrung him dry you were more focused on his aftercare. You two had both become experts on what to do and check for after having scenes together, since Scott was more turned on by being electrocuted than you had imagined he would be.

The only reason you even did it was because of how ingrained electricity was in your body, and how much expertise you had with it, if it had been dangerous then you would have rather died. Seeing Scott in nothing but his shiny steel cage and ropes did have you feeling less collected than you were used too, leaving you with the feeling that he was doing it on purpose sometimes.

Though, your all-time favourite had to be when Scott was nice and tied up, so you could tongue at his torso and cage as much as you wanted, letting small snaps of electricity strike from your tongue against his pecs, or his cock. It was never enough to hurt, but just enough for Scott to give a jump and needy howl, wail, or whimper, depending on where he was at mentally.

The aftercare was as satisfying too, Scott cuddling up against your chest as you rubbed him down, small disapproving whimpers leaving him when you slide his cage off. You always have to shush him, clarifying that you’ll put it back on, after making sure everything was okay. Scott always pouted a little, but cuddled back against you like the good boy he was. And thankfully you’d gotten smart enough to stock up on lightbulbs, and get him so fucked out he forgot you’d broken the last ones.

[ourfag]

idk whether this is a little sick of me but i kind of love the scene in man on fire where izzy interrupts them in bed. bc izzy acts like its normal and ed acts like its unwelcome but normal and stede is like what the fuck are you doing in here. like ik a lot of ofmd’s jokes are set up like “here’s one or two people doing something situationally inappropriate and here’s one or more people reacting to it in a way that drives home how inappropriate it is” so it’s not surprising that’s the structure used here, but it’s not the only possible permutation of it; i could just as easily see stede being unsurprised and ed being vocal about feeling intruded upon (ed’s been used a few times before to calibrate the audience’s idea of what the appropriate attitude in a given situation should be, and also izzy and stede both have demonstrated peculiarities in the way they approach interactions with others, albeit in completely opposite directions—if the writers wanted to strengthen a feeling later in the episode of them finding some common ground to build an actual friendship on then uniting them in weirdness here would do some work to sell that) or izzy could have been put off to see them in bed like that and then over the course of the exchange evolve out of his discomfort to appreciate how happy and content ed looks. which i think would add something to his later scene with ed.

anywayyyu thats not my point at all though. what i like about the scene is that stede’s playing the outside observer to ed and izzy’s relationship and what he’s observing is “wow izzy’s kind of invasive of ed’s privacy” meanwhile ed mumbles “fuck off” but makes no move to ask for privacy himself and furthermore expresses a complete lack of surprise later on at the fact that izzy was watching him on deck that morning. despite these scenes happening so close to the end of izzy’s arc i feel like they offer you a lot to infer about his pre-canon dynamic with ed. it’s juicy. it’s nauseating. it’s all i could have ever asked for

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

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[nhaaauyen]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ FLOATING ✩°｡⋆˚⁺

and baby i know you // sugar sweet like you always do

modern restaurant sev x reader au!: after your kiss on the beach, you return to work unsure of what it means now for the two of you. luckily, sevika answers that for you.

series masterpost: is it casual now? wc: 2.1k author's note: hi i could not sleep so i did the reasonable thing and wrote a sevika fic at 4am LMAOO i also wanted to try the headcannon format but I have no idea if I did it right smh </3 btw this is a sequel to is it casual now?and i wont be posting until exams are done (booo) but I hope you guys enjoy!!

♡ the beach kiss with sevika was everything - it was passionate and perfect in so many indescribable ways. but after you both parted ways, you realized you left without actually discussing your feelings - which by the way, was such a lesbian thing to do.

♡ now you're home, sprawled across your bed, staring at your phone like you could will it to buzz with a text from sevika. but the screen remains stubbornly blank. after what feels like an eternity of hopeful glancing, you finally toss it into a drawer. out of sight, out of mind. 

♡ but when you try to go about your nightly routine, your mind keeps drifting back to sevika. brushing your teeth, you remember what her lips taste like, like weed and sour candy. changing into pajamas? you’re wondering what she wears to bed instead.

♡ your resolve finally crumbles and you retrieve the phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlock it. nothing. you wait a beat, then refresh again because maybe the universe is just running a little slow tonight. but it was, in fact not.

♡ in a moment of dramatic self-preservation, you shut off the phone completely. if you can't see the lack of messages, they can't hurt you, right?

♡ you huff in annoyance, and maybe you’re still a bit high, but it hurts... real bad.  you throw the covers on and shut your eyes, wishing for the ache in your chest to go away because it was one kiss - one magical kiss where sevika looked at you like you held the mysteries of the world and only she could uncover them. fuck, you had it bad.

♡ morning comes, and you're spectacularly late. why? because high-you thought turning off your only alarm was a genius move. clothes fly on haphazardly, hair gets half brushed, and you bathe in perfume to mask yesterday's lingering weed scent.

♡ you burst into the restaurant 20 minutes late, bracing for your head server's wrath. when you walk in, all eyes are on you and your ears turn red, from both the embarrassment of being late and the incident with your head server the day before.  

♡ beelining for the back to clock in, you instead collide with someone at the door. and of course out of everyone it could be, it's her. sevika, the one person you were hoping not to run into yet.

♡ "pagli?" the nickname stops you in your tracks. you look up, meeting that intense gaze that sends your mind reeling back to yesterday's kiss. suddenly, you're drowning in butterflies and the memory of how she looked at you like you were made of stardust.  sevika looked ridiculously good. she was wearing just her usual uniform with brown leather suspenders and a white collared shirt, but her muscles were stretched under the fabric and you’re starting to wonder how you survived working with her in the past few months.

♡ you start to stammer out an excuse, but sevika's already grabbing your arm, pulling you into the manager's office.  "your shirt has a bit of something," she says as she hands you a clean white shirt.  you look down to find a toothpaste stain, because of course.

♡ the awkwardness is palpable as you take the shirt, mumbling thanks while steadfastly avoiding eye contact. sevika seems to suddenly remember the concept of privacy and excuses herself. post-shirt-change, you brave the floor. your head server makes only one snarky comment about your tardiness. in your book, that's a win.

♡ the rest of your shift is normal. well, "normal" if you don't count your newfound spidey sense, or more accurately sevika-sense. it's like your body's attuned to her presence - you know when she's at the bar, talking to customers, probably when she blinks too.

♡ you catch her stealing glances at you across the room, and suddenly remembering drink orders becomes impossible. you don’t know how many tips you must’ve lost today from having to repeat orders.

♡ the kitchen is its usual chaos and when sevika squeezes in to help, the world narrows to the points where she touches. her hand on the small of your back as she passes, the brush of fingers as she takes plates from you - the feeling lingers even as you leave the kitchen.

♡ you're hyper-aware of every little interaction with sevika. but was it all in your head? are you reading too much into things? the uncertainty is maddening.

♡ the dining room is nearly empty as you put away the last of the chairs. a glance at the clock shows it's almost 11 pm.  suddenly, you realize how eerily quiet the restaurant is. where is everyone? 

♡ your question is answered by the soft strains of jazz floating through the air. huh. since when did the restaurant play music this late? assuming it's a speaker malfunction, you head to the kitchen to find sevika. when you find her, she’s surrounded by an array of ingredients on the kitchen counter.

♡ "where is everyone?" you ask, confused.

♡ "they left early. you didn't respond when someone asked if you were going out." mentally, you facepalm. of course you were spacing out earlier, definitely not to thoughts about a certain manager. you gesture to the ingredients. "what's all this?"

♡ "well," sevika says, "are you hungry?"  your stomach growls in response. traitor. "looks like i'm making a meal for two, then," she remarks with a sly smile.

♡ "wait, why are you still here?" you question.  "paperwork," she replies with a slight shrug. "can't leave yet." there's a pause, a moment of hesitation. "you can go if you want, though."

♡ you catch the hint of uncertainty in her voice. "well i have to stay to see if our manager can actually cook," you tease. sevika scoffs, "oh, i can cook. be prepared to have your taste buds forever changed."

♡ you laugh, moving closer. "can i help?" you settle next to her behind the counter. "promise you won't cut yourself? i can't afford any workplace injuries." she jokes.

♡ you roll your eyes dramatically. "i'm not that bad of a cook, you know."

♡ "we'll see about that," sevika chuckles, handing you a knife. as you start chopping vegetables, your arms occasionally brush against each other. the kitchen suddenly feels very warm, and it's not from the stove.

♡ "you eat meat?" sevika asks, eyebrow raised.

♡ "yeah, why?"

♡ she grins. "good. i'm making lamb curry." 

♡"i've never had that before." you admit. "never?" sevika looks shocked. "it's delicious." 

♡ you shrug, a bit embarrassed. "sorry, i don't usually eat what we serve to customers." sevika pauses, studying you for a moment. then her expression softens. "this is actually a recipe my dad passed down. the restaurant just got a shipment of curry leaves and peppers for next week's menu."

♡ "oh? will i be seeing this on the menu soon?" you ask, intrigued. she smirks, "i don't know. will my first customer like it?"

♡ the look she gives you makes you fumble with the knife. maybe you are that bad of a cook after all. or maybe it's just the effect she has on you. you're stirring the curry when sevika leans in. "give me a taste."

♡ you bring the spoon to her lips, but in your nervousness, you bump her nose instead. "no way you did that," she says in disbelief.  “that was definitely done on purpose.”

♡ "i did not!" you refute. "oh yeah?" she nudges the spoon, leaving a streak of curry across your cheek.

♡ "sevika!" you gasp, feigning outrage. she throws her head back, laughing. the sound makes your heart skip.

♡ "you suck," you mutter, fighting a smile. "i'm sorry, okay? come here." she grabs a rag, cupping your face gently as she wipes away the curry. your hand goes limp, spoon forgotten as you stare into each other's eyes. her hand is so gentle against your skin, the rag somehow feeling rougher than she does.

♡ the oven timer abruptly blares, shattering the moment. you both jump back, a bit flustered. when it's nearly ready, sevika asks you to set the table outside while she finishes up.

♡ "just sit down," she insists when you offer to help bring things out. she emerges with two steaming plates and a bottle of wine.  as you take in the ambiance - the soft lighting, the music, the intimate table setting - it hits you. this feels like a date. but you quickly push the thought away. you haven't even talked about what that moment on the beach meant yet.

♡ sevika's watching you expectantly as you take your first bite. the flavors explode on your tongue. "this is amazing," you say, eyes wide. "consider my taste buds changed forever."

♡ the smile she gives you in response is brighter than any star you've ever seen. you continue eating, stealing glances at each other over your wine glasses, and you have no idea how to stop the feeling like you’re floating right now. as you eat, the conversation flows easily. "you know, there used to be a dance floor here. silco had a band playing next to the bar."

♡ "what happened to it?" you ask. she shrugs. "people stopped using it. probably lost the confidence to dance in public." you chew thoughtfully, then suddenly stand up. "come on, let's dance."

♡ "what?" sevika looks at you like you've grown a second head.

♡ "there's music, good wine, and we're technically on an ex-dance floor," you argue, grinning. "it would be a crime if we don't dance."

♡ she hesitates. "i don't know how to dance."

♡ "neither do i," you admit, offering your hand. it's almost like an admission of something else - that you don't know how to navigate this new territory with sevika either.

♡ reluctantly, she takes your hand and stands. you pull her close, placing one hand on her waist as she rests hers on your shoulder. your first few steps are more stumble than dance. sevika chuckles, "i get why we took away the dance floor now."

♡ you shake your head, laughing. "we're god awful at this."

♡ "i know, but..." she trails off, her eyes meeting yours.

♡ "but what?" you ask, heart racing. she takes a deep breath. "but at least i get to hold you." your heart skips a beat. you look up from where your head was resting on her chest, only to find her already gazing at you with that same inscrutable look from the beach.

♡ it was like a magnetic force was pulling you together. suddenly, her lips are on yours, your hand tangled in her hair. she leans you back slightly, deepening the kiss in a move more graceful than any dance step you've attempted tonight.

♡ sevika’s lips are soft against yours, and you can taste the wine she drank from before on them.  as you part, she lets out a satisfied hum that vibrates through her chest and into yours. you keep your bodies close, foreheads touching, sharing the same breath.

♡ "was there any actual paperwork to do?" you whisper.

♡ she has a sheepish smile. "you caught me." 

♡ "the amount of kissing we did compare to work is starting to make sense now.” you quipped, feeling her shoulders rise and fall with her laughter. wrapped in her arms and still high from the kiss before, you find the courage to voice what's been on your mind. "i really, really like you." 

♡ sevika doesn’t respond with words but instead, with another kiss. when she pulls back, her eyes are twinkling. "dido?"

♡ you groan. "oh. my. god." her laughter fills the room, rich and genuine. "i really, really like you too," she enunciates clearly, her tone teasing. "better?"

♡ "way better," you affirm, pressing your head into her chest just like you did that first time by her car. but this time, it's different. where there was once uncertainty about your future with sevika, now there's a sense of rightness, of belonging.

♡ as you sway together in the dim light of the restaurant, the soft jazz still playing in the background, you notice how perfectly you fit together.  you lift your head, meeting her gaze. the look in her eyes - tender and with a hint of wonder - makes your heart swell. 

♡ "so," you murmur, "what's for dessert?"

♡ sevika answers with a grin that is wide and full of affection. "i thought we were already having it."