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#but i largely only lurk over there and have been doing that for a while
starhvney · 19 hours
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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd laurance x reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when your lover can’t calm himself from a nightmare, you try to calm him through a connection only you can give
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst with comfort, shadow knight laurance, once again i present laurance angst, yet another fic where i write laurance obsessing over reader’s safety, do i have a thing for it? yeah, do something about it, also can you catch the canon line i slid in here? i couldn’t help myself
𝐂𝐖: nsfw/smut. unprepped sex, large size difference, does this count as monster fucking? not really? but he’s a big boy
𝐀/𝐍: thank you to @thebunnednun for giving me this prompt!! shadow knight laurance *convulses* anyways i hope this is coherent guys i wrote most of it last night while half asleep ahshah
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.
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you had been just there.
right at his fingertips.
at the comfortable distance where he knew he could protect you if something went wrong.
but it’s never enough, is it?
one second you were next to him, the next you were separated by what could practically be considered a herd of shadow souls. he didn’t know where they came from. he hadn’t even sensed them. but now they were overwhelming him, and overwhelming you, too.
he had even transformed, using every ounce of power he could to tear through the shadows around him. his movements still somehow managed to be too slow—too sluggish. each one he cut down it seemed like two more were on him, and two more were on you.
your screams were haunting. over everything he could hear, your cries for his help echoed against his eardrums, shaking his head like a bell.
“laurance, please!”
he has to get to you. he has to. he thinks he can as he slices through several of them, before one of them leaps towards him, knocking him down onto the ground with a groaning screech.
“no! get off of me!” he groans, struggling to push it away enough to grab his sword.
immediately it digs its claws into his cheek, and despite trying to turn away the sensation doesn’t leave his skin.
“laurance!” the soul cries, the empty and dark void of its mouth mimicking your voice. your distress.
it was mocking your pain in his face.
his vision is tinted red.
“laurance!”
he’s going to kill it. he has to. he has to kill.
“laurance, get up!”
his vision goes dark, but he can move again, and he lunges forward, pinning down the soul closest to him and keeping it there. he’s going to kill it once his eyes focus again.
he got it. where’s his sword?
“laurance?!” the soul asks in a panic, its voice clearer and a lot more like yours than the warbled disjointed one from before.
it felt smaller, too.
his hands squeeze against the arms of the creature to keep it in place. he knows he has to kill it, but there’s a part of him screaming at him to stop, but it’s drowned by the echoes of your screams for his help. what’s happening? why is it so dark right now?
“it’s me!” you hiccup, eyes wide and breaths short.
this wasn’t him right now.
no, not when your body was telling you to run. that you were in danger. not when you look up to see unfocused and rageful dark red irises trying to focus on something, his chest heaving as a whirlwind of unstable emotions seemed to batter against his rib cage.
you knew something was wrong when you had woken up so suddenly and so late, your skin sticky with sweat and feeling strangely on edge as your mind wandered to the possibilities.
why do you feel like you’re in danger right now? was it a predator? something lurking in the shadows of your room?
when you’d turned to get a look at your lover, you had your answer. he hadn’t completely transformed in his sleep, his armor hadn’t formed against his body and he still wore the thin and loose linen sleepwear he’d gone to bed with last night.
but it wasn’t loose anymore—he was nearly bulging out of it his already tall legs now hanging over the edge of the frame. his skin wasn’t that beautiful olive shade, but rather a desaturated almost deathly pale color. and his eyes. they weren’t open, but the skin underneath them showed unnaturally red veins that webbed from his eyelids just under the skin.
what was he dreaming about that had him transforming into a shadow knight in his sleep?
after some hesitation, you had reached out to his cheek to wake him up, calling out his name as he seemed to almost growl in his sleep. you almost regret your decision when blood red eyes snap open in a frenzy, and a split second later you find yourself forcefully pinned against the sheets.
you can see it. the instability on his face. he wasn’t here with you in this moment, his judgment was clouded by whatever rage had overtaken him in his dream. but what could you do? he already had you, his hands holding down your arms rather painfully and heavy body pinning you in place. the only thing you could possibly be capable of was to soothe him with your words.
“laurance… it’s me. it’s me.” you whisper, cursing at how your voice was the least bit assuring as it shook. “you were dreaming. you’re here with me.”
his chest heaves with ragged breaths, expression twisted in a lost and distressed frenzy. the startling blood red of his eyes dart across your face, before locking onto your eyes.
there he is.
you see a piece of him return, as rage turns to horror and realization.
“you—it’s you.” he manages to get through disjointed breaths, whatever scene that was looping in his mind clearly still clouding his ability to calm down.
“it’s me.” you whisper.
he closes his eyes, pulling in a sharp breath as he lets go of your wrists and moves his hands to beside your head. he ducks his head, shoulders shaking and mouth curling in an expression that could only be described as pure self loathing.
“…it’s okay.” you breathe, your words quickly cut off by his own.
“it’s not.”
it’s harsher than he probably intended. his voice is hoarse and deep, an underlying growl there that he can’t seem to get rid of. you watch as a few sparks of ember float up into the air, fizzling out thankfully before it could hit your sheets or spark the wooden ceiling.
he was going to hurt you. you. you. you.
a second goes by and shakily you raise your hands, cupping his cheeks. “laurance. look at me.”
his jaw clenches and unclenches. once, twice, three, before he cracks open his eyes again, focusing on you.
“i’m okay. see?” you keep your voice hushed, thumbs running along the red veins beneath his eyes. “you need to calm down so you can transform back.”
“i ca—i can’t. you should’ve heard—no. no.” he shakes his head, lowering it again—but this time resting his face into the crook of your neck.
your heart sinks. he sounds so unstable. so panicked.
fingers drift up to the nape of his neck, massaging into the tense muscles there and drifting to the now impossibly broad expanse of his shoulders. they seemed to double your own, his form completely swallowing yours as he leaned over you. he breathes in, taking in your scent as his lips pressed against the juncture of your shoulder and neck. it makes your heart rate involuntarily spike, a shuddering breath leave your lips in a mix of fear and something else you don’t want to admit to.
a few more beats pass like this, you frozen under him like prey caught in the jaws of a predator, before his lips part and he bites down onto your skin.
his teeth were sharp, and a small whimper of discomfort involuntarily leaves your lips at the feeling.
it makes him flinch back and freeze in place, like once again he hadn’t even realized his own actions—the primal part of him taking over his rational thoughts.
“i can’t.” he mutters lowly, moving to get up, like he was going to leave. “
“no.” you quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to pull him down to you but instead pulling yourself up to him.
“i’m going to hurt you. i don’t have… control over myself right now—“
you gulp, before slinking your legs around his waist and pulling your hips up to connect with his.
he inhales sharply. “what are you doing?”
“you’re here with me. let me show you.”
“no. no, i’ll hurt you.” he says, groaning as you pull yourself closer and roll yourself into him.
there’s a low warning of your name from his lips, forehead dropping to rest against your collarbone. “you don’t know what you’re doing—”
“i do.” you reassure, cutting him off. “i want you.”
he settles back down with a groan, lifting his head to look at you. “i’m dangerous to you right now. why can’t you understand?”
leaning up, you connect your lips with his and he groans against you. you can feel his self control beginning to crumble, and the much thicker bulge pressing between your legs through the material of his pants and your nightgown.
“i understand.” you say. “i understand that i love you more.”
“you’re going to be,” he groans, the deeper timbre of his voice sending a shock of electricity down your spine. “the undoing of me.”
he rolls his hips down into yours, and you gasp. regularly, what was under his belt was nothing to scoff at—his flirtatious remarks irritatingly wasn’t just all talk. but now? in this form where he towered not one but two heads taller than you? just from him pressing into you alone you could tell he was huge.
this is what he needed, though. you can already feel the tense trembling of his muscles beginning to calm, his ragged and uneven breathing turning to just a shuddering tempo.
his hands find themselves on your hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin. “is this… what you want? tell me right now, because i’m losing my grip.”
you were almost ashamed of the damp spot that had already begun to form on your panties, and how just his touch was enough to send shockwaves through your nervous system.
“yes.”
it’s like a switch is flipped, whatever wall of self control his conscious had put up crumbling to the ground. his hips push down into yours, harsher this time, while his lips press into your skin. he begins to pull your skin between his teeth, suckling bruises against it while his hands no less than tear your nightgown from your body.
cool air hits your skin, a small gasp leaving your lips at his sudden eager need to have his skin on yours. his hands briefly leave your side, only to pull his own clothes and briefs from his form. you don’t dare to look down, the length that was pressing against your thigh enough to intimidate you.
“i—“ he stutters, the internal war being fought in his head stopping his movements. “i’ll hurt you. i don’t know if i can control myself.”
tilting your head up, you kiss him once again, fingers threading into his hair and massaging his scalp. “you won’t.”
he shudders against you, breathing in your scent and deepening the kiss. eagerly he shifts your hips, moving you closer with one hand and dragging the fat tip of his cock against your clit. you were already well lubricated with the slick that covered your folds, but you still weren’t sure if it would fit. regardless his lips continue to devour yours, pulling each breath from your lips and leaving you dizzy as he shifts his hips up, dragging the length against your folds and pulling back. the mere girth of it was startling, but you don’t get to think about it for long until you’re subjected to it, the tip bullying it’s way through your entrance.
he slowly keeps pushing in, making you feel like you were going to split in half by his size. the stretch was entirely new, an uncomfortable one you hadn’t felt before. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, either.
but you needed to breathe. managing to part from the messy lock of your lips with a gasp, you throw your head back with a shuddered moan. he keeps pulling out just so he can push back in deeper, each thrust somehow filling you out impossibly more. your body was protesting against the push, squeezing against his length like your insides were trying to shove him back out. each time you fluttered around his cock he’d groan lowly under his breath, the noise a gravelly sound that rattled against your ribs and send a lightheaded wave of pleasure up your spine.
your eyelashes flutter down, a shocked gasp leaving your lips when you see he’d barely pushed halfway through. he pulls his attention from the spot on your collarbone he’d been leaving bruising kisses on, eyes darting across your face as he keeps bullying his way inside. it was bordering on being painful, but the shocks of pleasure shooting through your nerves overpowered everything else.
the veins under his eyes had begun to recede, the red of his irises now dulling in color. his nose wrinkles for a moment as he looks at you, his hands cupping your face as a conflict of emotions crosses his face. you can tell what he was thinking, with the look of guilt that crosses over his eyes at the sight of your smaller body trembling underneath him.
he was meant to protect you. and everything in his nature now wanted him to do the opposite. even as he fought against it, it still wasn’t enough. your screams, real or not, still echo in his head.
he was always so gentle with you. always taking his time to make sure you—the most important thing to him—felt safe and comfortable. the thought that he was possibly hurting you right now was revolting to him, even though he needed you close right now. you have to reach up to his face to snap him out of his thoughts before he spirals once again.
“it’s okay. i’m okay.” you whisper.
he presses his face into your hair, before a shuddering sob leaves his lips.
“i couldn’t protect you.”
you reach for his face pulling him up to look at you. his eyebrows are pulled together, red glazed over in angry and distressed tears.
“laurance, my love. it wasn’t real. i’m safe with you.” you tilt your head. “you’ll always protect me.”
he shakes his head, gritting his teeth. “but what about when i can’t? when i fully lose control? when i finally lose you? it would be my end. i couldn’t handle it. i can’t. i can’t.”
“you’re not going to lose me.”
“you don’t… you don’t understand…”
“yes, i do.”
your voice is firmer, and it snaps his attention back to you.
“i know you. i know what you’re capable of.” you gently brush your hands across his face, and his eyes slowly shut, taking in your words. “i know your strength, and your values. i know you’d rather throw yourself into the worst pain imaginable before letting something happen to me. even now, when you claim you’re so dangerous, i know i’m safe.”
his breath shudders as he hunches over you, seeming to feel a pang through his chest that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
“i love you.” you whisper, before the breath is knocked out of you as he gives a harsh thrust of his hips, rocking you up against the pillow.
“i love you.” he groans back. “so much. you’re my everything.”
you can’t respond to that, can’t even think of the words as he fully pushes himself in, his pelvis meeting your ass. his hands grip onto your waist like you would disappear between his fingers if he let go, head dipping down to your chest as he begins to set a rhythm. pain has faded to pure pleasure at this point, the stretch of his girth and the veins that dragged along your walls with every thrust left your mouth gasping for air and back arching up into him.
his tempo was rough and sloppy, leaving you unable to catch your breath and stirring your head into a mindless haze, your fingers grasping onto the firm expanse of his shoulders for any sense of stability as you’re knocked into oblivion.
his mouth latches onto your neck once again, but unlike his brutal thrusts his lips are soft against your skin. that was your laurance. the one that laced his hand with yours as he took you in a slow and sensual pace. the one that whispered sweet nothings in your ear and treated you so gently—focusing on pleasuring you until you couldn’t think before even beginning to focus on himself.
despite how much you loved how he treated you regularly, you couldn’t even try to deny how good this felt.
he lifts his head up, fingers brushing along your breasts and up against your collarbones, taking you all in as he sped up the pace. you can tell he’s already close to his release from the way his chin tilts up in the air and his glazed-over eyes roll back, his lips parted as he pulls in ragged breaths. suddenly he’s pulling your thighs up, large hands squeezing into the plush skin and hitching them up against his shoulders.
“so beautiful. and mine.” he murmurs, voice a deep rasp. he turns his head down, leaning back over you and staring at you through hooded eyes—practically folding you in half. “don’t you dare ever run where i can’t protect you.”
you’re close, too, and the way he looked at you now was about to send you over the edge. the mix of the new angle his dick was brutally drilling into you and his possessive and borderline wild need to protect you has you squeezing against him, your cunt sucking him in deeper and not letting go.
he moans out lowly, his hips stuttering into yours and slamming to a sudden stop. it’s so much, in more ways than one, when his hips grind in a slow circle and the heat of his cum overflows into you. you swear you feel it in your guts, with how much of it keeps coming, and how he jerkily pushes it back into you. it snaps you over the edge, vision going white and limbs turning shaky and weak, the mix of both of your releases spilling from your stuffed cunt and creating a sticky mess where your skin connected.
when you regain your vision again you find yourself looking back into gray-blue eyes, his eyebrows turned up and under eyes wet with tears. his skin had returned to its normal tone, but he still looked so pale, still so filled with a fear he couldn’t swallow.
you bring a hand up to his cheek once again, wiping the stray beads of sweat away from his face and leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“there you are, my love.”
your voice is merely a hoarse whisper, but it’s enough to knock him down. he crumbles onto you, forehead landing on the pillow next to your head, breaths shaky and fanning across your skin as his arms circle around your waist and pull you tight. slowly, he pulls out, leaving the both of you softly groaning in discomfort at the absence of each other’s warmth. his cum continues to spill out from inside you, dripping onto the sheets in a messy mix.
“…did i hurt you?” he whispers, voice trembling in the fear of it being true. his hands feel so very gentle on your waist, like he was holding fragile porcelain in his hands.
“no.”
his breath hitches in something like relief, a choked sob leaving his lips. “i love you more than anything.”
“i know. and i love you.”
his shoulders relax, and he rolls to the clean side of the bed, pulling you right into his chest and hugging you close. strong arms wrap around your shoulders and waist, leaving you little wiggle room against him. with the fragile state he was in, though, you don’t dare to say a word about it.
“i’m sorry. i don’t know what happened—” he starts, his voice an exhausted and hoarse whimper as he buries his face in your hair.
“laurance. i’m safe.” is all you say, silencing the self-deprecating thoughts he wished to express.
in the quiet dead of night, you both lay there, limbs tangled and pressed together as the moonlight filtered through the window and illuminated your sweaty skin—shining from the afterglow. the fears that plagued your lover’s mind melted away for now, his breaths evening into a deep and steady cycle and mind lulling into a peaceful sleep.
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©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.
taglist: @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @valentique @dazedbydeath @theaquaticplant @starsbrightly @kalegrinch (if you are a minor or uncomfortable with being tagged in nsfw please let me know immediately and i will take you off of my taglist for nsfw works in the future)
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hydrachea · 3 months
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I’ve always loved the dynamic between the ot3 we've had since 1.0 and with firefly joining the party it instantly became an ot4 for me lol so that's fun! Speaking of firefly infantilization, I absolutely agree with what you said and what’s sad is you know damn well that if the person inside SAM was a man people would’ve cared to explore the odd connection & parallels between “him” & blade beyond “dad & daughter 🥺” posting (not to mention the fact that she’s much older than him). And she literally told kafka to “stop playing with her food” in the jepella trailer. They're partners & equals, not a nuclear family 💀
It's the exact same for me! Well, except I started playing in 1.3, but don't worry about it. As soon as Firefly's identity as a Stellaron Hunter was leaked (wow that was a while ago now) I started waiting to see how they'd portray her relationship with the other three, since they all already had a great dynamic - and wow did 2.2 and 2.3 not disappoint. She joined the ot3 now ot4 easily!
Alas, infantilization is just the fandom fate of any short young looking woman with a man she's close to in her life. Over on Genshin's side, Sigewinne still largely gets treated as Wriothesley's daughter even though she literally saw him grow up and clearly acts like an adult. Nevermind that she, just like Firefly, is the much older one of the two. Just because Firefly actively tries to enjoy her short life in as many ways as she can experience instead of brooding 90% of the time like Blade doesn't automatically mean he's older or more mature... He's just depressed.
That said! There are people with very nice takes out there, even if they aren't directly ship. And since I too am very interested in the dynamic between Blade and Firefly, given their respective situations and wishes - have you seen this comic yet? Only part 1 is out and I don't know if the webnovel (fic?) it's based on exists in English, but just that part 1 is so nice.
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sleepyjuice · 2 months
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toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.
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you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.
rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something
rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with
rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t
rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK
rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.
rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.
you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.
three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.
you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.
sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe
you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.
you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.
rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)
you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too
rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby
you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.
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chosopie · 7 months
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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA
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RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.
SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.
cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy
: ̗̀➛ part 1
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The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.
Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.
You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.
“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.
You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.
“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.
Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.
It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.
You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.
“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.
“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.
His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.
“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”
Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.
Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.
“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.
“I know,” you smirked.
“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.
“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.
“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.
“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.
Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.
He was way too big.
This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.
“It’s my first time,” you panted.
“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”
That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”
“It is the culture of my homeland.”
Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.
It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.
“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”
“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”
Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.
“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.
“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”
With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.
Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.
Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.
“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.
“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”
All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?
“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”
: ̗̀➛ part 3
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shaisuki · 7 months
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SON, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS CUTE. MIND IF I HAVE A TASTE?
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FUSHIGURO TOJI X MEGUMI'S CHUBBY GIRLFRIEND READER
content warnings ─── noncon, drugging, reader is megumi's girlfriend, voyeurism, forced orgasm, thigh fucking, brief daddy kink, somnophilia, pussy eating, megumi and reader in 20s, toji in his 40s.
ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ: in which toji couldn't help but to steal a taste of his son's girlfriend. hope he doesn't find out. poor megumi.
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“—gumi... oh fuck...”
he can hear your filthy moans leaking through the crack of his son's bedroom door followed by the breathless whispers and the sound of bed creaking under the weight of you two. he listened for a brief moment before going to his kitchen.
opening the refrigerator and grabbing a water bottle and twisting its cap off then taking a swig from it. toji chuckles at the "study session" you both were doing. ahh, kids these days and his thought goes to you. his son's girlfriend.
he still remembers how you came into his life. his son introducing him to you as a friend but by the looks it's more than of it and you were the first to never ogle at him like he was a piece of meat. there's nothing such as lingering stares, the batting of eyelashes and the seductive voice trying to get him — only a quick bow and an introduction of your name and that's all.
and toji did like that however megumi made clear you were off limits. his son could be so possessive and protective over you and who can blame him — sweet, little like you doesn't know the dangers that lurks at every corner including him and toji has the tendency to fuck who will give him the slightest of interest including you but it still doesn't happen. keeping him at arm's length and that's fine with him — he says but nothing's fine with it.
it is not his business to pry the people his son is dating, he's no different from it. jumping from woman to woman after his wife passed away. he got needs. anyways, his son is old enough to do whatever he pleases and dating is no exception from it and looking at you, his son's relationship with you — it's looking good.
closing back the fridge, in the corner of his sight. he caught the familiar spiky tuft of a hair belonging to his son and you by his side. raising a brow at you two. megumi only gave his father a side glance before escorting you to the door to accompany you in safely going back to your place.
“uhm, thank you for letting me stay fushiguro-san.” you say to him, bowing quickly before following megumi. he only looks at you longer — too close for comfort and noticing his father's gaze at you. megumi glares at the man and toji almost barked a laugh at his son.
don't worry, megumi. i ain't touching your girlfriend but only if she wants too. he wants to say at megumi. their relationship already estranged. well, who could blame his son he wasn't the best of fathers.
then after that, you both were off. the slam of the door being closed briefly echoes in the room and then toji was left on his own. settled in the couch and the television playing his horse races.
“pretty please?” you bat your pretty lashes at him. your eyes getting rounder and wider staring at him with doe eyes of yours and toji isn't so weak at them but gives in. your palms pressed in his chest while your slick covered cunt brushing at his hardened length. “hasn't my boy been treating you well?” he asks. his emerald green eyes similar to his son glints. “no, that's why need you to take care of me.” holding his cheek and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and then to his jaw and then to his lips. “please, daddy~” you begged in a cute voice that leaves the older in front of you smirking. “if that's my pretty baby wants.” the scar in the corner of his mouth twitching. large palms holding your wide hips slithering to grip your butt cheeks. not breaking eye contact and watch your expression change. chuckling at already your cock drunk face when he plunges his cock inside you. “ah~ yes!” you moaned out. holding his shoulder for balance before shaking your hips to get the best use of your boyfriend's dad cock.
“you're a disgusting one, aren't you?” he mused. cocking his head to examine your once innocent face turning into one of a whore. “moaning like a bitch after taking my cock....is my son really not that good at pleasing you, huh?” a playful chuckle leaving his lips. “nuh uh but not enough, ohh~” kissing his jaw and toji grabs your nape. pulling you into a bruising kiss. his other hand holding your plush waist in tight grip before thrusting his cock violently to your cunt. “oh god, yes! more, more, more!” you screamed pressing your chest against his. your nipples rubbing his pectoral muscles. your cunt spasming around his lenght and your orgasm coming through. “to...oh... ji...mmmm” you moaned out. repeating his name over and over as your orgasm builds up in the pit of your stomach threatening to explode at any given moment and toji, oh he's getting close as well. you got the perfect pussy for him. such a shame his son can't please this slutty pussy of yours. there's a pause in between his growls. fixated on your face turning into an expression of a cock drunk slut while you moan his name. “toji! toji! toji—”
“toji-san?”
the call of his name brought your boyfriend's dad to his not so innocent daydreams. standing in front of him was his son's girlfriend whom he can't stop fucking with his eyes and it didn't get better when you're standing in his doorway with your collarbones displayed in front of him and his sight gets lower he sees the soft swell of your chest and curse the choice of your outfit. a fucking sundress that he's close to nutting in his pants.
“first name basis are we now, sweetheart?” he teases despite the smoldering look he had on you. his sight flicks in to your face. “uhm, sorry for calling you like that.” you apologized. “there's nothing sorry about that, sweetheart.” the nickname you are being called takes you back. your feet taps continuously. a nervous habit you developed. megumi's dad isn't someone you are comfortable with. it doesn't mean you disrespect him but more like you were just intimidated by his father with his muscular build, the scar in his lips moving and his attitude. anyways, you were being polite to him.
“need anything if you're here.” his eyebrows raised at you and the scar in his lips twitch. his body blocking the door. leaning on the door frame posture relaxed and that smug smirk painted in his face.
“i—”
“who's that?” megumi's voice interrupted you. toji glanced behind him and scowled before turning into a neutral expression. moving to reveal you and megumi's stoic features softened.
“just the right time. come.” he said walking towards you and ignoring his father. it was your cue to follow him. “excuse me, toji-san.” bowing your head slightly before discarding your shoes to follow megumi.
toji's sight follows you. pressing a kiss to his son's cheek and returning it by patting your head and kisses your forehead. your cheeks warming up and megumi glances at his father. his scowl deepening and megumi glares at him before taking you to his bedroom.
that little brat. toji thinks but what about it. he was supposedly to support his son's partner not lusting over you but he's a man and it's unfortunate for you for someone like him to take interest.
he slumps in his couch with a groan. annoyed by this carnal urge to just jump on you and make you cum multiple times. he would be better than his son. you will truly be pleased by him. toji plays with his bangs moving it upward to fully see the ceiling above him and ponder about stuff, to you. getting childish of taking his son's happiness for him but how could he resist you. the more you try to pull away from him the more he wishes to get closer to you. you seem to be wary about him and toji can't blame you but that what makes it sweeter. ripe for the picking. always been attracted with the innocent ones and you were not so innocent than you think.
you would be incredibly suited for him. sucking him dry and warming his cock while you sit prettily in his lap watching those races. if he wins he'll fuck you nice and good and if he loses he'll fuck you hard and deny you of release endlessly.
the sound of door opening followed by voices perks him up. “don't you want me to accompany you?” your voice worried and megumi is quick to assure you. “i'll be quick. i'm just picking up the work what kamo finished. wait for me here.” megumi said. quickly to diminish any further worries you have for him. a ghost of a smile in his face before heading to the door.
deciding you can't comeback to his room. you settled in the couch. observing the man in the other couch who's focused with whatever's the television playing and you remained quiet before pulling out your phone to entertain yourself and ignore the awkwardness in the air with your boyfriend's father.
toji stands up making his way to the kitchen but before that he stands behind where you are seated. “what you want to drink, sweetheart?” he offers. the deep rumble of his voice startling you that you almost jumped from your seat.
“water would be fine, sir.” you politely replied and your phone dings. alarming you of a message and toji gets a glimpse of the message.
megumi: i apologize, got dragged by itadori. i'll be back in an hour.
you frown before typing a quick reply and toji continued his way to the kitchen. taking a can of beer in his fridge and pouring you a glass of water. whistling casually as he easily crushed the white, little, round shaped pills before mixing it to your drink. his eyes boring holes in the glass as the pills turned powdered mixes in the water. he grabs the glass and handed it to you.
“here you go, sweetheart.” you naively accepts the glass of water cause it's just water right. a regular water used for drinking.
toji settles in the couch. popping the beer can before taking a swig. discreetly taking a glance at you and following your move. he watches you put your cellphone before taking a sip and then another sip and bingo. placing the glass in the coffee table. watch as you blink. sleepiness taking over you with a confused look in your face and then you were passed out on his couch. sleeping soundly without a cry. finally, toji thought as his plans came into fruition.
toji ignores the television playing. standing up to examine your sleeping figure. you won't make a peep at your current situation. “come on now, sleeping beauty.” he coos. scooping you up in his arms. the back of your knees hooked in his arm while the other supports your back.
“there we go.” he mutters. peering at you through his bangs and toji couldn't deny how pretty you look in his arms. your soft features only for him to ogle at. toji never expected he would be attracted to you despite your heavier physique and being his son's girlfriend. toji would never in a million years would go someone for like you but his son got a good taste in choosing partners in which he took the liberty of pleasing them in bed. they showed interest first, he just returned the favor. to you he needs to work and it's not you'll find out.
he kicks the door open and closes it with his foot before placing you to his bed. he sits beside you. his added weight made the bed creak slightly. admiring your features and running his knuckles in your face. starting from your forehead and then to the side of your face and your round cheek and his thumb swiping your soft lips. such tenderness present in his touches if only it was for his good intentions but toji have so much stored for you.
toji realizing for a minute that the gesture he just had done to you wasn't even bestowed to his wife and only you had experienced such softness in him. that still wouldn't justify what he is about to do with you.
he leans down. the proximity of his face and yours are closer. his breath fanning to your cheek. moving to your neck while he kiss that tender spot he knew that you would like and so he was rewarded a soft sigh in response and a sly smirk graced toji's lips.
so you like that, eh. he moves towards to your pulse point. nose brushing and pressing another kiss again. licking on the tender spot and another soft moan emits from your lips and toji wonders if you can make the same noise again if his lips would kiss your other parts...
the time didn't bother him when he slowly undresses you. beginning to lower the straps of your sundress and pulling it down in your chest area until you were bare in front of him minus your underwear. your bra holding your soft breasts and that cute panties you're wearing is already damp.
he began to kiss your chest, his lips stopping in your stomach to nibble the flesh there. sucking and trapping it between his teeth before reaching to your fat mound. his breathing getting shallow, once he smells you. almost drooling at the sight of your pussy lips inviting him to take a taste. he presses his nose to your pussy still protected by your panties.
the sudden contact made your body involuntarily jump and toji had to hold your thick thighs to stop your drugged body to stop squirming.
his eyes almost roll when his brain registered the scent of your pussy. inhaling your scent through the pesky fabric and toji moves your panties aside. admiring your fat pussy and he can see the cute clit of yours throb and slick is already dripping from your aching hole.
he raises your thigh to place in his shoulder. rubbing the soft flesh in his cheek and bestowing a chaste kiss to it before sucking the flesh. careful not to leave any marks that will reveal of the unwanted deed he had done. you remain still. motionless aside from the sudden jerk of your body responding to his physical exertions to your body.
“you're dripping wet for me, darling.”he mutters. his eyes half-lidded and a nonchalant chuckle spills in his lips. staring at your fat pussy waiting to be taken care by him.
“now, now. daddy's taking care of you.” he says. pulling your panties down and putting it aside. spreading your pussy lips before taking a lick. toji groans at your taste. “no wonder that brat's pussydrunk.” diving back again to your slick cunt getting wetter the more his tongue flicks up and down. catching the wetness with his tongue and although involuntarily your body began to react with his licks.
toji buries his face in between your legs deeper. wanting to get more of that goodness being produced by your sweet cunt. if he'd known sooner, he would have taken you away from his son and make you his. warms his bed and your mouth ready for fucking and this fat pussy of yours, wet and warm to nest his cock inside you.
you remain asleep. your chest fluttering in response to the pleasure of your cunt being licked. it's almost making out with your pussy from how toji frantically catches the drops of your arousal. the translucent wetness settling in his tongue that will sure linger in his mouth for days.
your boyfriend's father begin to ponder. how long it has been since he'd gone down on someone. clearly, it was that long that he can't even remember and you coming to the pictures and with the opportunity of being able to taste you. it tells him to get back at it with an exception. you're the only one who can receive it. such a shame you're sedated. he's quite curious of what sounds you can produce from him fucking your brains out. you're not the screamer, he knows that. it's not the first time he had catched you and his son being frisky but he's sure he can bring the noises you never knew existed.
your legs shakes in his shoulders, a sign of your impending orgasm and your wetness in his tongue increasing that he had to swallow and slurp that goodness coming from you. his tongue flicking back and forth to your folds and sucking your cute little clit. he proves that he still is the expert of making someone cum with his tongue and he's not rusty like he thinks he is.
“good girl.” he praises you as he detaches his mouth to your fat cunt. licking his lips to brush the remnants of your cum that is coating his lips.
his emerald eyes staring at your body. asleep and snoring softly. your chest getting back to it's regular rhythm after being bestowed by an orgasm that a father could give to his son's girlfriend.
he contemplates for a bit if he should fuck you but what about when you wake up. he's sure there would be the familiar sting in between your legs and he doesn't know if you have his son the consent of allowing him to touch you while asleep. that would be a problem. should he use your mouth? ah, clearly not. his sight darts to your thighs and it's going to be good like your hole. that's settled then.
he hoists your legs up. grabbing your ankles as he leaves a trail of kisses in your chunky calves. he's already rock hard and his cock is uncomfortably pressing in his boxers. he tugs his pants down followed by his boxers. his burly cock slapping in his abdomen. its tip red and angry. pre-cum already beading in the tip and toji groans. spitting in his palm to lubricate your thighs before putting his cock in.
“needs to get your thighs lubricated, princess.” the rough and calloused texture of his palm rubbing through your inner thighs. after getting your thighs wet and lubricated. he slowly slides his cock and there's a deep rumble coming from his throat similar to a growl.
“s—shit!” he curses out. feeling the sparks of desire moving upwards to his cock and to the pit of his stomach. if your thick thighs is already this good, how could it be much better if he's going to fuck your pussy. he keeps your thighs together. slowly thrusting his burly cock between your creamy thighs. reveling in the softness of your flesh and how his cock is being squeezed by this heavenly goodness. he should steal you from megumi now. he could sacrifice his relationship with his son for this body of yours.
fuck!
he promised to himself that he would not leave any evidence of your body being touched by him, however his resolve dissolves as the minute goes by. what once and steady pace he's going now isn't going to cut it.
he hugs your legs. his hips speeding up to slam his cock to your thighs faster. he's going rougher and deeper that his balls slaps to the back of your thighs. his muscular thighs also adding the obscene sound of skin being slapped together. the sound echoing in his bedroom and he's sure it can be heard outside. he didn't care though. he's close. ready to burst his seed at any moment.
his semen trickling down your thighs as it's being milked everytime it disappears in between your thighs. although he's working through his orgasm, toji is mesmerized from how your body moves. imitating his thrusts as your body jiggles. the layers of stomach are turning into ripples as his rough thrusts turns to be harsher than the last. you're still sleeping soundly though.
his hips stutter, before slamming with a brutal strength. growling as he released buckets of cums in your thighs. spilling in your thighs and watch droplets of his cum stain your dress and decorating your round stomach. that was fucking intense. the best of thigh fucking he ever experienced and he can't wait to pound your poor, fat pussy until you cry.
he puts your legs down and he takes a moment to memorize your every inch of your body until his gaze landed in your face. he's glad you didn't wake up or else there would be trouble. he fixes himself before going to his bedstand. grabbing the box of tissues and wiping your thighs clean and to your stomach. what a waste. he thinks to himself. he could be pablo picasso or some shit from how he painted your body with his cum.
he tugs the hem of your dress and puts your panty. pressing a kiss to your fat mound and with that he carries you back to the couch and pretends he didn't taste and fucked his son's girlfriend's thighs.
just as he's about to settle in his couch. the door swung open. his brat, bored as ever in his expression. softening as his gaze meeting his girlfriend sleeping on the couch.
he ignores his son and pretends he's focused on the television while takes a drink from his beer like he didn't experienced the best sex of his life although it's just your thighs. it won't be too long before he can bed you. he just have to be patient for now.
you wake up to the scent of megumi's cologne. your head on his lap as you clear the fog in your head. blinking softly as you adjust your sight to your surroundings.
“megumi?” your boyfriend hums. caressing your cheek and the first thing you noticed when you moved is how your thighs felt sticky. you're confused did megumi touched you while you're asleep in his dad's couch?
“did you—” megumi's brows furrows in confusion and seeing the look in his face. you shaked your head. “nevermind.”
“you fell asleep.” megumi commented. “i don't remember falling asleep.” you shrugged as you eyed the glass of water resting in the coffee table.
“stay the night.” he muttered and you nod. sitting up to get closer to him and megumi wraps around your soft middle. almost sitting in his lap before pressing a kiss to his cheek. your boyfriend returning it to your forehead. not minding that his father is only a few seats apart.
he wouldn't admit it but seeing you lovey-dovey and shit with his son, he's jealous. what is he? a fucking teenager? it almost puts a damp in his mood but who cares he almost fucked his son's girlfriend and won't be too long before he can do it again minus the sedatives. get a taste of his cock and you're leaving his son in a heartbeat despite the loyalty shit you have for him.
glancing, a smirk dances in his lips. he just have to wait again to get a taste of you again.
a good father he is.
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dejwrldarchived · 11 months
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CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 2
( GUARDIAN ANGEL ) 🎮 GUARDIAN ANGEL!SEPHIROTH X READER
— game synopsis: he's been your guardian angel since you were sixteen years old. protecting you from danger you didn't see coming, but now that you're slowly wanting space from him—he makes it his mission to remind you who you belong to until you take your final breath.
( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, slight enemies to fuckers, reader somewhat purposely put herself in danger, possessive!sephiroth, mentions of sephiroth having pretty white wings, mating press position, cream pies, mentions of soul ties,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough
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You’ve known him since you were sixteen years old. The mere memory of him grabbing at your backpack strap to tug you out of the way as you were about to walk into ongoing traffic imprints your brain like a nostalgic TV memory. He was a sixteen-year-old guardian angel who aged through the years as you grew, interfering in your life as if you were the most life-threatening person ever. 
Freshman year of college, he’s taking the red solo cup of whatever mixed potion the older frat guys made out of your hand. This led to practically the whole campus thinking you were chronically insane as you argued with no one because they couldn’t see what you saw. He interfered with your life at moments when you had it all under control, and he didn’t need to baby you as if you didn’t. But you were grateful for him, and the things he did stop when things got bad.
It's like killing a guy who roofied you at a bar. Despite the toxic drugs from drinking your drink, it had you feeling like you were in another world. You remember the crimson-red liquid staining his large, elegant white wings after the deed was done. After that, he’s never left your side, and you grew to feel suffocated. You couldn’t do much in your life if you had your guardian angel down your neck twenty-four-seven commenting on you getting hurt or dying. 
Now an adult, he still was here. Despite you being perfectly fine. No freak accidents, no near-death experiences. He still was here lurking around as if you were a child. 
Right now, watching as you poorly attempted to get laid. Your panties dangle from your ankle as you wait for the guy to insert, but as your horny meter slowly decreases—so does the poor stranger you met at a bar cock. Your eyes averted between your bodies as he aggressively pumped his condom-covered cock; you could hear his laughs as he was sitting on your kitchen counter chewing on an apple. 
Fuckin’ Sephiroth.
“You know what? That’s okay. Just leave.” You pushed the guy off you, limp dick and all while you’re scrambling to tug your panties back on. 
“What? It just takes some time,” The guy’s tugging his pants up in frustration. “Just please…baby.” He’s grasping on you, and you’re swatting his hand away like it’s an annoying fruit fly. 
“Just go. I’m no longer in the mood.” You warned.
This was a warning not only for yourself but for him. You had a 6’1 angel looming around your apartment who didn’t care to kill someone—especially a person who wasn’t following directions. Your eyes darted from him in the kitchen to the guy who kissed his teeth while collecting his belongings.
“Don’t call me anymore! You completely wasted my time.” He sneered at you while leaving your apartment. The door closed with a harsh slam that made you jump. 
As silence drifts over your apartment, and the only thing you can hear is the sound of that annoying clock in your kitchen ticking, you lean back on the couch with a sigh. “You know, you completely ruined the vibe, you know?” Your eyes land on the white-haired male as he finishes the apple he obnoxiously chews on.
“Do not blame it on me.” He tosses the apple in a trash can and stands up to close the space between you.
“I am blaming you because it seems like every romantic connection I attempt to make, you are there to ruin it.” You sneered at him before sitting up. “I don’t think this will work anymore, Sephiroth.” 
“Are you saying you want to release me of my duties of being your guardian angel?” He asks. You can feel he got closer despite shifting your eyes closed to calm yourself down from this talk. 
You two have been together for years. He’s been protecting you for years, and now it felt so suffocating that you couldn’t breathe. Sometimes, you wanted to release him of his duties, but you knew when you did that every memory you’ve shared with him would vanish. It would be like you two have never met. 
The sight of him with his elegant white wings on his back. The sight of blood staining his pale skin after murdering someone that hurt you. The look of worry when you almost walk into traffic, and he was a split second from being too late. 
He was yours just as much as you were his. But you needed space. 
“Yes.” You breathed out, pushing yourself off the couch to enter your room. “You know, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we can co-exist in each other’s lives anymore.” You explained you turned around, and he was leaning against your doorframe with the most obnoxious face. 
It was as if your words were going out one ear and the other for him. “We’re not young anymore. I don’t need you being so….so.” You were searching for the word to describe how you felt—frustration riddling your bones as you attempted to express yourself. 
Sephiroth took steps forward, closing the gap between you two. When he was towering over you with such little care at how close he was to you—he fixed your tank top strap and let his slender fingers linger on your shoulder just a little longer to cause goosebumps to garnish your skin immediately. 
“Possessive.” He finishes your sentence as his teeth graze upon his lower lip. “Is that the word you’re searching for, my little ward?” 
And with challenging eyes, you met his and said, “Yes. Possessive, like you own me or something.” 
His chuckles. But this chuckle was different from the one you have heard. It felt more sinister, more agitated. 
“You’re stuck with me, love. If you like it or not. We’re bound together until you die of old age or better yet, I briefly take my eyes off you as fate finally chooses a moment for you to die. Maybe a bus will hit you as you walk into traffic for texting on that silly device of yours, or maybe you’ll accidentally hit your head.” 
Your eyebrows furrow together in frustration and anger at his words. 
“You enjoy my company but don’t want to admit it. You think I didn’t notice the way you bring home little flings to spite me. You think I can’t hear the way your heartbeat quickens at the sight of me watching you get fucked by some man who can’t even make you orgasm. Sephiroth’s eyes glance over your body like he was observing you under a microscope. “So tell me, Y/N.” His finger’s toying with that strap on your tank top that keeps falling off your shoulder. 
“How many times have you imagined me, your sworn protector—your guardian angel fucking you?” His fingers drag alongside your nipples that harden through the thin white fabric of your tank top. “And don’t lie; I know when you’re lying to me.” 
You couldn’t quite remember what you had said after his words for your knees to be pressed upon your stomach and for Sephiroth’s cock to be buried into your throbbing cunt while your moans bounced off the walls. The pornographic sound of heated skin slapping against each other with the sound of your headboard banging against the wall was like music to your ears. But you enjoyed the sight of Sephiroth more. 
His crystal white hair fell in his face so perfectly. Comically enough, you wanted to say he looked like an angel. His eyes kept averting between your fucked out face and in between your body. With each glance down there, it seemed he fucked you into the mattress even harder. Instantly, your legs snake around his waist, completely trapping him from depriving you of what you were so eager for.
Sephiroth chuckles darkly through your pants of desperation, “Seems you’re enjoying this a little too much.” He mumbles. He pulls his cock entirely out of you, leaving you whining for more. 
He guides his cock in between your pussy lips rubbing in the mixture of your essence and pre-cum. Your back arched off the mattress with urgency, and he pushed you back down so you could endure the pleasurable torture of his cock teasing you until you were staining the cotton sheets below your naked body. With each stroke between your puffy lips, you’re squeezing your eyes shut tightly to prevent even the littlest thought of him seeing you like this. You didn’t think you could fathom the mere embarrassment. 
“Come on, you don’t want to see how well you take me?” He questions, his voice rings with a teasing tone that makes your pussy pulse. 
“Fine then.” He mumbles what seems to himself before he hooks his strong arms under your knees, completely trapping you under him and what’s to come.
You wondered if Sephiroth could hear how fast your heart was beating. It felt like it was bouncing around your chest like a small ball in a pinball machine. The feeling of his thick tip brushing against your entrance felt like the world had stopped. Perhaps it did. The idea of a guardian angel fucking his ward into her mattress had to be some form of rule breaker, right? Maybe, just maybe—God had briefly paused the world to give you time to weigh out the pros and cons of this.
But when Sephiroth bottomed down inside you, you felt the world unpause, and a wave of pleasure travel across your body. You even could hear yourself let out a sigh of relief—as if you’ve been waiting for this moment in centuries. The way his cock was inside, you felt like it was a missing piece in a puzzle you need. It fit perfectly, but when he started rotating and thrusting his hips—you couldn’t help but call out his name like it was a scripture.
It wasn’t as if you could do anything else but take his sensual thrusts. The mating press position trapped you from doing anything else but that. The way he was making you feel at the moment had you ignoring all that. Your moans echoed into his ear, and Sephiroth was very responsive because he’d grunt back like a rabid animal in heat. Ensuring that the feeling was mutual. That he was feeling just as good as you were. 
“After this, you’ll be stuck with me forever, right?” Sephiroth asked. His tongue drags alongside the bridge of your right ear, and instantly, your legs snake around his waist, locking your feet together so he won’t let go.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” His words send a chill down your spine as he continues to fuck into the mattress.
The pornographic sound of heated flesh echos upon your bedroom, and your eyes seem to squeeze shut in bliss. Savoring the moment between the two of you until you couldn’t anymore. Your pussy pulsed around his cock, and your thighs quivered under your guardian angel’s touch. His grip on you grew tighter, and you knew that he was unraveling right on top of you. His groans that echoed in your ear changed into whines of desperation. If you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t seen him this desperate in your life.
But it was a reason for that because, in just three seconds, he was a coming mess. He didn’t even bother to pull out, either. His nails dug into your heated flesh with each thrust inside of you, ensuring that each droplet of his cum stayed inside of you. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you leaned up to indulge in a heated kiss to seal the deal that you knew was going to follow you for years.
You truly were stuck with him forever until you took your last breath. 
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TAGS // @salaciousdoll @syndrlla97 @lilvampirina @msun1c0rn
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deceptive-daydreams · 1 month
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I Want Your Midnights
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Logan Howlett x fem!reader
A New Year’s party at the mansion where you and Logan pretty much sneak away to dote on each other
Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, drinking, allusions to sex, slight angst for like 2 seconds
This is just a cute little thing I thought up but also this is my first time writing for Logan, pls be gentle.
Champagne lingered on his tongue, you could taste the slight bitterness and nearly recreate the bubbly fizz you’d basked in just minutes ago.  Since then, it had been teeth clashing together mixed with endless kisses and large hands pawing at your dress.  He’d been scooping up handfuls of you like he’d never get enough, like it’d never satiate his hunger, his pure desire for you.
Maybe it was the tipsy haze you’d found yourselves in but the corner of the party quickly became your paradise, an island meant only for the two of you while everyone else counted down the seconds.  They gathered in front of the TV with their champagne flutes in hand, seeking the ones they’d kiss and embrace into the new year.
Meanwhile you’d started early, nipping on one another’s lips, noses squished to cheeks, fingers tangled in hair.  “Be right there” turned into a false statement, a lie you told to Rogue when she waved you both over into the family room.  You didn’t mean to lie, it’s just that gravity kept you in Logan’s lap, rendering you useless and unable to recall the proper motor skills to carry yourself into the other room.
Logan grinned, an uncontrollable thing that he’d deny anyone else saw should they ask the following day.  And before you could tease him, all smiley and eyes crinkled, he nuzzled into your cheek, nearly purring like a well fed cat but rather than food, your attention kept him beyond satisfied.
“Happy New Year.”  
At this he rolled his eyes, more playful as opposed to his usual standoffish self.  Always more playful in your presence.
Remnants of a deep rouge painted his upper lip, the color bleeding into his skin, coating some of his stubble.  As your thumb trailed along his scratchy jaw, you admired your unintentional artistry, hints of red that just belonged.
He was too handsome for his own good, so much so that you’d taken it upon yourself earlier in the night to undo the top buttons of his shirt.  A miniscule gesture that warned him of your intentions for later, a means to tease but done so elegantly in the plain sight of party guests and your closest friends.  
He’d caught your wrist then, a delicate yet firm hold as he muttered “Careful, doll.”  Your face had gone hot, flustered under his dark, heavy-lidded gaze.
That’s how you’d ended up in the corner, taking it upon yourselves to give into the hunger taunting you both in the midst of lurking eyes, marveling at him, at The Wolverine, soft and pliable in your possession.  
Tame.
Only you would be able to gently tuck a glass of champagne into his large hand that usually clung stubbornly to a beer.  Only you could so nonchalantly place it in his hold without a single gripe.  And it drew the attention of nosy acquaintances and even well loved friends as they stared.
Logan didn’t care for staring.
It wasn’t lost on you that he was so used to the universe working against him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, just patiently welcoming disaster as if it were an old friend, as if it’s all he’d ever known.  Cause it was.  But with you, there had finally been peace and that terrified him.
He didn’t have to say it.  You just knew.
Intimacy scared him, getting close scared him.  And it took attempt after attempt to even scratch the surface of his ever-bleeding heart, to even begin to bandage it up and create some sort of healing process because prior to you, liquor had been his chosen antidote for life’s tragedies.
After several lingering stares, you could feel the way he’d tensed up.  He hated attention like this, didn’t know what to do with it other than scowl and storm off.  Which is why you lured him into this particular corner before his thoughts could get to him and yank him out of his content state, soon to banish him back to his room where he could fester.
Now you had him right where you wanted him, pink cheeked and kiss bitten, gazing at you through his eyelashes like the flirt you knew he could be.  A warm hand rested on your hip, thumb tracing the fabric of your dress again and again, almost to soothe himself rather than you.
“What, you’re too manly man to say it back?”  You taunted, dropping your voice an octave to mimic him.  Then, all too sweetly you batted your lashes, “Aren’t you gonna wish me a Happy New Year?”
“You’re a brat.”
You only pouted, overdoing it as you puckered your bottom lip the farthest it could go, eyebrows raising unnecessarily high.  You were always so much more expressive than him, something that pulled laughs from deep within his belly if he wasn’t careful.  Earning a true Logan laugh had become the highest honor, it only ever happened in the solitude of your room when you’d pull the most ridiculous jokes out of your ass that made no sense whatsoever but left him hunched over gasping for air.  It didn’t help if he was sleep deprived either, which was usually the case when he’d show up to your room in the dead of the night.
No one knew about the Logan laugh, no one but you and you’d keep that like an oath.  He rarely let his guard down but you’d been able to coax him out from behind the walls he built.
Playing with the hair at his nape, you leaned in, whining “Am not!”
Logan hummed, his forehead pressing against yours.  “That so?”  To which you hummed back, lovesick in the eyes.
From the other room, the chorus of counting echoed against the walls, the remaining ten seconds of the current year before the slate would be wiped clean.  Logan never believed any of that shit, he’d complained about so called “new starts” and “resolutions”, how they were false hope.  And yet he’d attended the party anyway, because although he didn’t believe in any of it, you did.
“3…2…1…”
“Happy New Year, Logan.”  You tried again,  gently molding your lips to his.
Rather than recite the words back, he cradled your head in one hand, the other cupping your face while he deepened the kiss, something passionate and dizzying.  Something so unlike the animal the world made him out to be.
Truth be told, being an animal happened to just be a piece of him, a piece that you’d never ask him to downplay or rid himself of.  But in moments like these, that animal surrendered to a more domesticated side, submissive in some manner, in a means of absolute devotion to his person.
He’d been hard headed and mean, you couldn’t lie and say he’d never been harsh with you before he let you in, but the harder you tried the harder he found it to push you away.  He knew the moment you cracked him and burrowed into his skin, into the cavern of his ribs where his cold heart rested, would be the moment he realized it was the beginning of the end for him.  For as many wars as he had been in, the most violent had been love each and every time. 
Logan fought hard.
But he loved even harder.
Instead of reciting the words back to you, he’d offered you something far more endearing.  He pulled away ever so slightly, a strand of saliva still connecting you, nose nudging into yours as his thumb caressed the highest point of your cheek.  His eyes regarded you with such admiration, a spark in them only he permitted you to witness.
“I love you.”
Well into the early hours of New Year’s Day, when the party had died out and girls were wandering around like zombies with their heels hanging off their fingertips, you and Logan had snuck into the kitchen.  Just as everyone was wrapping up their festivities, you two had only just begun as you reached for some cold slices of pizza and sat atop the counter across from each other.
“Tired yet?”  Logan asked as you yawned, a knowing smirk on his face.
Releasing your hair from the confines of your perfectly imperfect hairstyle, you smiled lazily, confirming “Exhausted.  Just exhausted.”  
“Gettin’ old like me.”  He teased.
Again, you pouted, an exaggerated plump lip jutting out toward him as you hopped off the counter, collecting empty bottles on your way to throw out a pizza box.
“No one’s old like you.”  You quirk a brow.
“Ouch.”  He smiled, finishing off his beer and following your lead, collecting the remaining empty bottles.
You didn’t bother turning around to see him grinning but you knew by his tone, the unmistakable sound of his upturned mouth.  “Oh, you’re my old man and you know that.”  With a sigh, you tie off a garbage bag, hiking it over your shoulder before you feel the weight of it disappear, instead a gentle hand lingers on your waist.
“Watch it, princess.”  He warns, giving your hip a squeeze before swatting at your ass, passing you to take the garbage out.  And as your lovesick eyes hold him in your sight for as long as possible, he opens the door with a wink before stepping out into the cold.
In his absence you busied yourself with tidying up the rest of the kitchen, discarding party horns and kicking balloons out into the hall.  It was Storm’s idea to go all out this year, usually you’d settle for a slumber party to ring in the new year but she’d insisted that there was change to be had and a majority of the others agreed.  It wasn’t often that Charles would allow for loud, extravagant parties but with a few ground rules, everything came to life.
Now it appeared as if the house was empty although it was anything but as everyone had relocated upstairs to pass out for the night.  A few individuals lingered in the family room, snores faintly heard down the hall as you chuckled to yourself.
A pile of confetti on one of the counters caught your eye, underneath it appeared to be a collection of polaroids, the ones Rogue had been taking all night of everyone.  They had been temporarily forgotten amongst celebrations and toasting but come tomorrow they would showcase precious moments printed in time that everyone would treasure. 
One in particular pulled a gasp from you, the kind that made your heart ache in the best way possible.  Right before your eyes on glossy paper was the tender moment between you and Logan in your secluded corner, or what you had thought to have been secluded at the time.  You sat in his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck while he gazed up at you with adoration dripping from his expression.  Both of his large hands held your waist and it seemed you were talking his ear off.  The moment seemed so fragile, your cautious fingers holding it by the corner.  
Just as your eyes well up with unprecedented emotion, familiar lips press against your temple, strong arms wrapping around you from behind.  
“What do we have here?”  Logan murmurs into your skin, “Most sexy woman alive taking pity on the old man-“
“Shut up.”  You laugh wetly as you turn in his arms to push at his chest, still holding onto the photo like a delicate artifact.  At this rate it would have to be pried out of your cold, dead hands.
Logan’s brown eyes softened on you, his knuckles reaching up to brush your cheek before asking, “What’s wrong, bub?”  
What he failed to realize was that nothing had been wrong at all.  In fact, it was the total opposite.  For once everything had been exactly how it should be.  You were right where you should be.  Years of trying to fit in meant nothing to you when you fit so effortlessly right in his arms, right by his side, just with him.  
“Nothing.”  You whispered.  And meant it this time. 
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qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months
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The Clandestine Culinarian Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader
Summary: After you’re introduced to his family and move into the House of Wind, you begin training with Azriel as a way to pass time and cope with your losses, but something unexpected happens, and a seed of jealousy begins blooming in another female’s heart.
Word Count: ~2.8k
Warnings: Mentions of blades, family deaths, itsy bitsy angst, nothing too bad.
A/N: I feel like this isn’t my best work but it pulled me out of writer’s block so whatever, lmk if you want a part three, hope you enjoy it <3
Requests are open!
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When you woke in the morning, Azriel was gone, probably off to his room, or house now that you thought of it.
You weren’t sure why you expected him to still be there, or why a little bit of you felt disappointed that he wasn’t.
Stumbling out of bed, you found some clothes in the closet that looked like they’d been borrowed from you for the time being, a few dresses and some pairs of tunics and pants. You ended up putting on a simple romper that went down just above your kneecap, a light flowery purple. Your niece would’ve liked it, you thought.
Miraculously, there were fresh toiletries and supplies in the bathroom, and so you brushed your teeth so hard your gums bled, and pulled a brush through your unruly hair until it finally settled down a bit.
After what felt like an hour of trying to smooth down the loose ends, you gave an exasperated sigh and moved on to slip some shoes on your feet. When you were finally all dressed and ready, you looked in the bathroom mirror at your reflection.
You looked…fine. Not overly bad, but the lasting effects of your grief were still obvious in the slight redness of your eyes, or the hint of puffiness in your cheeks where tears had rolled down the night before.
“I’m going to be fine.”
You murmured to yourself while staring into the mirror. You were upset and sad and angry, but the world didn’t stop, and neither could you.
“Y’know, usually when I want to feel good about myself I just go flirt with the ladies, but to each their own-“
A low, brusque but amused voice drawled from the doorframe, making you jump and spin to face him, one hand over your now-racing heart.
“Mother above, you scared me!”
You said, sighing and shaking your head before looking up at the stranger.
Not exactly a stranger, you reminded yourself. The General. You could recognize him almost immediately, his large muscular body, the stubble on his face, and his golden hazel eyes, not to mention the dark black hair that was tied back in a man-bun right now.
He only chuckled at your fright, giving you nothing short of an idiotic grin. A hint of sympathy was behind those eyes, you thought.
“So you’re the lady friend Az brought, huh? Welcome to the family, then.”
He said, not elaborating any further as he slung his large arm around your shoulder and began guiding you out of your room, into what seemed like a dining room. A glimmer of something knowing also lurked in his eyes.
The High Lady, Feyre sat down in one of the chairs, Nyx bouncing on her knee and eagerly shoving a piece of bacon down his throat while Rhys watched and snorted in amusement. Another female, Elain, was in the kitchen, cooking up a large breakfast for the entire family and seeming happy while doing it. Nesta seemed to be helping if only to have a taste of the bacon while it was still steaming hot how she liked it.
“Go have a seat, I’ll have our Elain make you a plate.”
He said, releasing you from his grasp if only to push you towards the table. Before you could manage thanks, he’d already strode off into the kitchen, arms wrapped around Nesta’s waist as he pressed little kisses into her neck from behind.
You hesitantly sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a bit out of place in this family’s home. Feyre and Rhys both glanced up at you, sharing a glance between themselves before she gave a polite nod and warm smile, going back to feeding Nyx.
“Ah. I hope you slept well, at least. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
Rhys said, still glancing over at Nyx and quietly snickering before turning his full attention to you. As you opened your mouth to speak, his expression turned a bit serious, making you pause a moment.
“I hate to tell you like this, but because of the…business, you and your family were running, nothing can be held against Kier or his men. I’m truly sorry I can’t-“
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
You cut him off, feeling bad for it but then going on, watching as his violet eyes almost widened. You knew that nothing could be done from the moment Kier’s men had stormed into the bakery. There was nothing Rhys could’ve done to save them, and nothing you could’ve done either, other than shutting down the business.
“You’re already letting me stay in your home, with your family, and providing for me, so please, don’t apologize for anything.”
You finished. He paused a moment, before giving a slight dip of his head as a nod, that he wouldn’t do it again despite what he might believe.
Elain and Nesta came out, plates in their hands while Cassian trailed behind with another few in his, and they passed them out to everyone, including you. It was a healthy variety of normal breakfast foods, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, etc.
They all sat down and began digging in while talking, and you weren’t about to not follow their example.
“I forget how much of a bitch cooking can be,”
Nesta said, before taking a bite of toast.
“Yeah, guess we are a bit spoiled back home, huh? Living in a sentient House and all.”
Cassian said with that big idiotic grin, nudging her with his elbow as he swallowed. That comment alone made you swirl with questions.
“Sentient House?”
You asked, raising a brow. That only made Rhys chuckle and shake his head.
“Yes, Cassian and Nesta live in the House of Wind. It’s a sentient home right off of Velaris, on the border almost.”
He replied, a smirk on his lips.
“Don’t forget Az, he’s quiet but he can be a menace when he wants to be.”
Cassian said with his mouth full. Nesta rolled her eyes and swatted him for talking with his mouth full, at which he dramatically acted like he’d suffered a fatal wound.
“You don’t know the half of it. Once he rearranged my entire personal bookshelf in reverse alphabetical order. It took me an entire day just to sort them back out.”
She said, huffing just at the memory alone. You couldn’t help the little bit of genuine laughter that escaped your lips from that.
“What did you do to piss him off that bad?”
You then asked, and Nesta smirked, clearly enjoying thinking about what she'd done to poor Azriel.
“I gave them some money and told them to go have fun. They ended up winning a jackpot that Azriel had to go claim the money for. You should’ve seen the owner’s face when he realized that the shadows had won, I don’t think the shadowsinger has set foot in that place since.”
She said, and Cassian began laughing at that alone, while Rhys and Feyre snickered, and Nyx began giggling and babbling over a hash brown. Cassian’s face went thoughtful for a moment before he glanced up at you.
“You know, you could start training with Az maybe. It’s sort of a custom for our newcomers to start training.”
He said, glancing at Feyre and then at Nesta, who both raised a brow at him. Elain then spoke up.
“He’s always on missions, though. Wouldn’t the inconsistency make it useless?”
She asked in that annoyingly innocent tone, almost like she was a child trying to please their mother with how dainty and sweet they were. You didn’t know why it annoyed you as much as it did, the fact that she knew his schedule, and was actively discouraging you from spending time with him.
“He’s not on too many, things have settled down since the war ended. I think it could help keep your mind off things, too.”
Rhys said with a little nod as if confirming this.
“It’d be more practical if you moved to the House, then. It gets a bit too quiet sometimes, so we wouldn’t mind.”
Nesta said with a shrug, studying you intently for a moment before going back to eating her breakfast, halfway on Cassian’s lap already.
“I’ll ask Az after breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Cassian said, before shoving another mouthful of fried egg in his mouth, at which Nesta cringed and gave him a look, playfully disgusted.
*********************************************************
“You want me to what?”
“Train her, just in the mornings like what I do with Nesta and her friends. It'll get her mind off of things.”
“Cassian, you know that I can't commit to that with my work-”
“I think you're just scared of females.”
Cassian retorted, in the most serious tone he could manage while Azriel gave him an incredulous look, annoyed.
“I am not scared of females.”
He said firmly, glaring at his brother.
“Oh yeah? When's the last time you've had a hookup?”
Azriel’s mind went frustratingly blank at that. He huffed, before replying.
“I don't see how that's relevant.”
Cassian let out a hoot of laughter, only making the crimson blush creeping up Azriel’s neck progress further.
“See? You are scared of females. Are your nightmares haunted by the sight of pussy?”
Cassian said, making his voice quiver on purpose with his last sentence, making a little ‘oooooh’ sound as if a ghost were haunting Azriel. Azriel only scoffed, shaking his head.
“Fine. I'll train her if you'll stop tormenting me.”
He said, a begrudging resignation in his usually firm and cold tone. Cassian gave a grin of triumph, clapping his brother on the back as he walked past him.
“Good. Treat her well, she's been through a lot.”
He said, before walking out and leaving Azriel alone in the cold office he owned in the House of Wind.
*********************************************************
He seemed to have snuck into your life much faster than you'd expected him to.
You’d moved into the House of Wind, which hadn’t been difficult given your lack of actual things to pack and move, and very slowly adjusted to living in a sentient House.
It still scared the shit out of you when the bath would randomly start running at the perfect temperature, with all the oils you loved, at the exact time when you were thinking about how much you’d like a bath. Or the times when perfect meals would show up, both healthy and also satisfying your specific cravings, and how the House almost adjusted to fit your needs every time, providing you with everything you needed, clothes, entertainment, food, water, and more.
The training was a different subject, though.
You still could barely do the stretches Azriel tried to work you through. His lithe, muscular body could pull it off flawlessly, which you supposed was a given for someone who had centuries of practice and experience. Most of the time, it only succeeded in you being sore and aching in the mornings, and that was how it went for what felt like years, though only a month had passed.
There was one thing you particularly enjoyed about your training, though.
“Like this, your arm should be hooked around, but not depending on it too much..”
His voice was quiet but strong, confident, and sure as he always was in his silent way as he guided you. His own muscular body, donning no shirt, performed the same exercise you were supposed to be doing, and mimicking poorly.
You couldn’t help but be distracted by the winding tattoo that seemed almost alive as the rising sun cast an orange glow of light against his body, creating a perfect contrast and mixture with his already-tanned skin and midnight hair. Not to mention the light purple color that was projected onto the ground through the thinnest parts of his wing’s membrane, the sun casting light against it as well.
Azriel had grown closer to you in the month you’d been around him, and you’d noticed him observing you intently as if to catch every little habit and quirk about you. You’d been watching, too, seeing the way his fingers might twitch if exposed to the cold, or how his wings fluttered ever so slightly when a cool breeze went by, and all of the things he tried too hard to conceal and lock away.
“…”
You snapped out of it, seeing him watching you with a blank stare, only a glimmer of suspicion and curiosity in his dark hazel eyes.
“Sorry, I got distracted.”
You said, shaking your head to get yourself back into the headspace of training, where you could forget your grief and sadness, and become something new, something freer and unbound.
*********************************************************
Azriel knew he was pushing it when only one and a half months into your training he slowly began introducing you to swordplay.
He didn’t give you a real sword, over his dead body would he provide a real weapon to a beginner, you had to earn your steel, but for now he gave you a worn wooden one. The same one Nesta had used when Cassian had started training her.
You’d seemed unsure about it, but accepted it without complaint, as you seemed to do with most he did these days. He had caught himself several times, the lingering glances, his hands ‘accidentally’ brushing against your waist, the sparkling heat in his veins when he saw you in those tight Illyrian leathers, trying to obey him and go into the positions he showed you.
He was wondering if you’d caught him, though he already knew the answer.
It was nearly impossible to resist the urge when his shadows screamed and cried silently out for you when they tried to shove you two together and force him to confront you with his suppressed feelings and desires. He’d never felt them so strongly attached to someone other than himself before, and it made him a bit uneasy.
However, it all came to a climax when today, for what felt like the hundredth time, he knocked your wooden sword to the ground and had you pinned beneath his gaze, but this time, his sword against your neck, hands holding you down, something different happened.
*********************************************************
It felt like a warmth blooming throughout your entire body, as if someone had lit the butterflies in your stomach on fire and they were now exploding and popping, sending waves of heat and shock throughout your being. Though you didn’t know what was fully happening, your instincts did.
Azriel stumbled back as if he’d been hit, staring wide-eyed at you, and as you opened your mouth to speak he immediately disappeared in a flurry of shadows and darkness, winnowing somewhere.
Training was over for today, you assumed, as you tossed your wooden sword to the ground in the training ring and walked inside, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and why he’d seemed so utterly shocked.
You knew he had his eyes on Elain, helping her harden and cook and spending time with her and seeming all too happy about it while training with you seemed like pulling teeth to him.
You tried to shake it off as you headed back into your room to decompress in a hot bath.
*********************************************************
Mate.
The word had hit him like a brick at that moment, and the next thing he knew he was hiccuping and sobbing, mumbling out words to Rhys in his office.
His brother held him close, not questioning what he said for now and just listening.
“She’s my mate, Rhys, and I don’t even think she knows it, but I don’t..how am I going to tell her? She doesn’t want me-“
He’d sobbed into Rhys’ shoulder, his brother quietly shushing him. It had been too long since Azriel had cried, centuries almost, and this had just broken the dam and let the flood tear through his body. The shadows seemed agitated as they swirled around the room, poking and prodding at the furniture and whatnot.
“It’s okay, Az. One step at a time, just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, and let’s calm down.”
Rhys said in the most soothing, soft tone he could manage, one usually only reserved for Nyx and sometimes Feyre if she was lucky.
However, unbeknownst to either of them, a third person listened in. A female who’d had her eyes on the shadowsinger longer than that new girl thrown into the mix. Elain Archeron believed she was a far better match for Azriel’s stoicism and reserved nature, only she should get the privilege of seeing behind those stone walls he’d built up. A feeling of twisted jealousy and possession curdling in her sweet, loving heart, unlike anything she’d felt before.
That new girl suddenly being Azriel’s mate? That wouldn’t do.
Not at all.
Tags:
@lilah-asteria
@evangeline-xo
@hayrunnwr
@rcarbo1
Part 3
257 notes · View notes
naffeclipse · 26 days
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Dance, Detective, Dance
Detective!Reader x Police Chief!Eclipse
Commission Info
Who's ready for some dancing with Police Chief!Eclipse? I had a delightful time writing this darling little fic which was requested by Anonymous. The detective reader must navigate a situation they truly do not want to be in and are ultimately rescued by a very dashing Eclipse. Now, time to hit the dance floor.
———
This is not where you’re meant to be.
The candlelight twinkle of the capitol building’s chandeliers cast the ballroom floor in gentle, romantic lightning. The marble columns of the great architecture build a grandness to the politics and party tonight. Men, women, human and animatronic alike, flutter around the space in bird-like trillings of socialization. The suits are finely pressed and the gowns are exuberant and shimmering. The large, photo-ready smiles mean nothing to you. Though fellow officers mingle among public workers and rich city members, you stand deliberately away from the conversations in a shady nook against the wall.
You must remind yourself to unfurrow your brow lest you stand with a perpetual scowl on your face for the rest of the night. This should not be mandated as part of your job—a charity ball, put on by your police precinct no less. Your time is better spent pooling over castfiles and running down streets to locate criminals. 
You tug at the collar of your formal attire, dark and fitted for a black-tie event. The weight of your gun rests heavily on your hip, hidden beneath your clothes. You wish you could stroke it, hold it in your hands, and count the rounds. The number of bullets inside the clip is branded in your mind, but the routine is grounding. But, your hands lie empty and repeatedly clench.
The night has worn on. This has been your service for the evening. You can excuse yourself on the basis that you’re needed back at your desk to study the recent string of crimes the Celestial Gang conducted. Surely that’s better spent time than standing here, stuck in fancy clothes that do little to make you more approachable.
The door. Your eyes have been returning to it constantly in the last hour. You could piece together what’s been eating away at you about the last rival gang slaying. What are the Celestial Gang building up to? Why suddenly strike so hard and fast at enemies? Do they simply have more confidence or is there something moving in the underground, dark and silent as a reaper?
This is enough. You’re going back to work. You step out of the shadow alcove you’ve lurked in all evening. Shoulders hunched as you begin to slip between oblivious attendees of the charity ball, you keep your eyes on the door. Single-mindedly, you weave towards the exit without seeing one face or hearing a voice in the crowd’s babble.
Someone emerges at the top of the grand staircase to the left of the doors. A familiar figure, tall and lithe and adorned in sun rays, descends the steps.
You stop in a crowd. Eyes drawn up, you stare at the police chief.
Eclipse. You’ve never seen him so sleek and sharp in a tuxedo of deep crimson. He fixes his bow tie with deft fingers, his eyes lifting to the crowd as if he’s lost something. His expression is intent, unsatisfied as he searches for the brief moment it takes for his gaze to swiftly land upon you.
Your lips part for an inexplicable reason. To call out to him. To explain why you’re making a beeline for the door. Say hello before you tell him goodbye. You have no answer. No words slip from your lips as he holds your stare as if you were the only person standing in the room.
His canary yellow optics brighten. His hands fall, softly opening in a gesture that seems to invite you closer. The police chief tilts his head. He finishes descending the steps as you push through the crowd—not to escape the ball but to meet him at the foot of the staircase.
He says your name softly in a manner you consider dangerous.
“Eclipse,” you greet, though it’s unnatural to say his name while the two of you are very much not alone. Yet, the crowd leaves you two in a pocket of privacy, unaware and unconcerned with a commanding officer and his subordinate.
Music pulls on strings, echoing in the air. Dancers begin to meet and pair behind you on the polished dance floor. Eclipse’s eyes briefly stray to the live music conducting the beginning of a couple’s dance, but his black pupils return to you. 
“Where are you going?” He reaches out and touches the sleeve of your clothes, smoothing down a non-existent wrinkle. 
“Out,” you answer, almost shoving it between your teeth. “I have work to do.”
His grin tightens like glass crunching in on itself. His fingertips slip further down your arm, trailing carefully over the sleeve that’s far too stiff for your liking to loosely encircle your wrist. He keeps you in place.
“You are expected to remain for the entirety of the charity ball; the same as every officer in attendance.” He speaks with the firmness of authority.
You narrow your eyes. He meets you unyieldingly. Your fist clenches just underneath his large, dark hand.
“I need to go over the case files from last week. I can’t stand here all night.” You look out over the band playing, accompanying dancers as they step and twirl. The bodies are organized yet chaotic in their colors and energies. A few people are laughing and others are stone-cold serious, focused on the rhythm while others kiss their partner.
“Detective, you can last one night at a social event.” His voice gravels low, almost touching a note of mirth.
His thumb slides down the bones of your hand, caressing your skin softly. A shiver subtly works its way up your spine. You turn back to face him. A stubborn argument crawls upon your lips but you stop short.
The police chief is strangely quiet. No, distracted. His eyes roam up and down your person. You stand frozen under his inspection. You dressed appropriately. He can’t fault you for improper attire but you can’t unravel the motive for his silence. His expression deepens into something soft. His optic lights dust you gently with his attention.
The strange exchange prompts your study of the police chief. He’s never been one to slack in his appearance nor fail to dress for the occasion. There is an undeniable charm to how the tuxedo looks on him. His fingertips are soft against the pulse on the inside of your wrist. The deep crimson color compliments his maroon and indigo sun rays.
A beat passes. Eclipse finds your eyes again.
“You look exquisite, sweetheart.” The note of affection in his tone sends a weakness into your knees.
“I’m not staying,” you say. Eclipse knows better than to charm you—though you must breathe to regain the feeling in your legs. “Even if I will miss seeing you look so sharp and spiffy.”
“Thank you,” his voice is low and gravelly. It echoes him finding you late at night, working at your desk, and walking you halfway to your home. A voice greeting you first thing in the morning with a cup of coffee. A question of concern, wondering if you’ve had enough sleep lately.
He holds out his other hand. The hold he has on your wrist is loose, soft and so unlike the coldness of handcuffs you’ve experienced before. You’re reminded again of his relation to the Celestial Gang mob bosses. Though what happened to separate Eclipse from his brothers and lead them down such different paths eludes you. You don’t pry. You won’t ask him to give it all up. 
He is not his brothers.
“Since you must stay here, we can make use of your presence.” His fingers unfurl. His dark digits and silicon palm wait before you. Like an offer of hope. Like an invitation to sneak away, just the two of you. His optics are lower in light. “Won’t you dance with me, Detective?”
You stare at the offering. A weak stirring begins within you. You tilt your head back to hold his gaze.
“I can’t dance.” You have the bluntness of a hammer. He knows this. He has always known this.
Eclipse’s grin remains unwavering. 
“I’ll lead.”
The music swells to a final jazzed ending. Couples drift apart and shuffle, and others stay perfectly together, waiting for the next song.
This is dangerous. Your hand falls into his. Him leading you deeper onto the dance floor to lose yourselves in the crowd and yet, find all the privacy. 
“Stand on my feet,” he says.
“You’ll regret this,” you warn him gently for his own sake. You fix your shoes upon him, scuffing up the shiny black polish but Eclipse doesn’t even glance down. His optics are firmly fastened on your gaze.
He chuckles low within his metaphorical throat. The first twirl begins, and you are perfectly safe upon his footwork. If anyone notices that you’re not truly putting in effort, allowing Eclipse to lead and put in all the moves, no one says anything. No one truly looks at you. All the politicians officers and city workers are engrossed in their dramas. You almost feel as if you were alone with Eclipse.
The music slips over you. The string cords and the waltz rhythm of the instruments tug you both along. Eclipse effortlessly weaves and carries you through the people, his attention tilted down to hold you in his vision while the room spins at the edges. You stare into his optics. Yellow with pinpricks of black. His smile is softening at the edges, his sharp teeth less visible in his focus.
“How do you know how to dance?” you ask, your interrogation voice coming through full force.
Eclipse tilts his head. A glint in his gaze gives way to something you can’t help but find unusual for the police chief.
“Personal interest and a need to fulfill certain duties a police chief must uphold such as appearing at public events. Especially for an animatronic,” his voice is gravelly.
To be charming and capable in every manner, to have to give even more than a human would in his position. Your hands clench his as he cuts through the space, leading your clasped hands like a wedge through the masses. Your grip tightens upon him. A burn sets in your chest, hot and spitting.
“You don’t have to dance,” you say, “Not with me.”
“I know,” he says softly. His voice lowers. “It’s a shame I don’t see you like this more often.”
You grimace as you glance down at yourself.  “These clothes are too stuffy. Who could chase a criminal down in this?”
Eclipse’s smile is poignant as he remarks, “It’s a very good thing you’re not on active duty tonight then.”
A sound between a huff and a growl escapes your mouth. Eclipse twirls you in a motion that leaves your head spinning slowly until you remember to focus on his eyes. His light is constant through the movement of his practiced swaying. 
You fight the urge to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest. His height gives you the perfect advantage to rest against him. You might be tired. The entire social event has sucked you dry and now you’re stuck in a slow whirl with the police chief. It’s difficult to remember that you wanted to leave only a few moments ago.
“Eclipse, I have to go,” you say over the ringing of the music. You’re getting distracted. You feel weak, held up by him so tenderly. His hand presses into the small of your back as he shifts you in his arms. 
“Would it kill you to spend an evening with me, looking so fine, and dancing?” His eyes burn low. You can’t look away.
“Maybe.” He doesn’t let you loose, so you must grit your teeth and admit, “I dance and wear nice clothes only for you.”
Eclipse grins. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, and his movements grow stronger. 
You cling tighter to him. Held flush against his chassis and fine suit, you watch the room twist upon itself. Eclipse draws you in and out, and he carefully stops to gently set you back on your feet. You immediately freeze like a wild animal set in a civilized place. Before you can succumb to your failure of not knowing a single dance, Eclipse takes your hand and lifts your arm above your head. Pressing your shoulder softly, he guides you into a soft spin upon your toes. You almost stumble. He holds you steady.
Then he takes you by the waist, holding you tight as he dips you low. You’re parallel to the floor, parallel to the police chief's smile as he hovers above you. You both hide below the crowd. The music swells.
His mouth has never been closer. You don’t realize how much your chest heaves, your heart alive in your ribcage as if amid a shoot-out, but it’s him. It’s only him. A smokey-amber scent fills your senses. He’s so close, and you drown in him.
Eclipse gently lowers himself closer. His optics flash between your eyes and your lips. You breathe out. Your eyelids flutter close—
And gunshots ring out.
Your eyes fly open and Eclipse’s optics flare. People scream. The stringed instruments cut off with abrupt notes souring the air. In a blur of a second, Eclipse pulls you back onto your feet. You whirl around, your hand upon your gun and freeing it from its concealed holster. 
The doors are wide open, held by men in dark attire as more shots ring out, thrumming out of Thompson machine guns. Gleeful criminals stare down at the panicking charity ball. You step forward. Eclipse's hand falls on your shoulder, pulling you back just as a politician in a suit dashes right in front of you. Eclipse’s grip tightens on your collarbone.
The gangsters glance around, lowering their weapons. Screams of panic ring out again but the gunfire stops—they have everyone’s attention.
“Eclipse,” you utter. Your finger is careful on the trigger. There are too many civilians. The boldness of crashing a party in the heart of the capital building leaves you seething.
“The Celestial Gang,” his voice lowers. He knows. You both know.
Henchmen step aside and hold open the doors to the dark, cool night. Dressed in fine suits, sharp and oily as finger-rubbed gold, the mob bosses of the most feared gang in the city step into the ballroom. They hold guns in their hands, gleaming cold and dark. Their eyes, gray and pale, and red and black, cut through the panicking people. 
Eclipse is half-frozen beside you. He steps forward, placing himself between you and the mob bosses. His brothers.
Your eyes dart around the room. The people have crowded against the far wall. Other officers have drawn their weapons. You glare down the animatronics bearing the themes not unlike the police chief, one of a pale yellow sun, and the other of a dark and silvery moon.
“Oh, Moon, I hope we’re not too late to the party,” Sun announces. His fingers stroke the trigger of his gun. His mouth curls sinisterly. “It’s so nice to see all the elites of this rotten city celebrating their charity.”
“Look, brother,” Moon tips his dark hat at you. “We’re just in time.”
You grit your teeth where you stand, and glare back.
“I think you’re right.” Sun laughs, cold and chilling against the marbled columns. His attention rests on you, hungry with avarice.
Moon lifts his gun into the air and smiles with sharp teeth. He announces, “We will be stealing the detective for a dance.”
259 notes · View notes
daydaydayrk420 · 24 days
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Caveman
Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X male reader
⚠️male reader, forest sex, animal attack, dom bottom Logan, sub-top reader, choking, cock warming, creampie, alcohol, animal hunting, biting and scratching⚠️
🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨
______________________________________________________________
Trees.
The soft sound of water drops hitting the crowns of the green echoes.
Trees. Bushes.
The bushes are filled with variants of berries.
Trees. Bushes. Animals.
Animals.
That's what he's after. Food. Prey.
Y/n has been camping in the woods for a while now. He calls it "A break from society." It's been peaceful so far. Calm even. He always hunted the smaller critters so he wouldn't waste food.
Tonight feels colder. Too quiet. Too calm for his liking. Like, calm before a storm.
He's sitting by his campfire enjoying the nice weather of October. The night isn't too cold and the fire makes his surroundings the perfect temperature.
The trees are rustling as the wind picks up. Y/n looks up at the moving trees. Lately, he's noticed that the trees have strange claw markings on them. One day there are only claw marks facing from top right to bottom left and then the next day there's a second mark over it facing top left to down right. He doesn't know what it means but it's no animals job that's for sure. He's not the only one in these parts of the woods anymore. He has to keep his guard up.
Y/n is far from camp hunting. He tracked a small critter to a cave. He holds his bow and arrow as he looks around. His back is facing the cave. Little did he know there's a pair of eyes watching him from inside the cave. Heavy breathing is echoing through the walls but the rain silences it out. A simple growl and gravel creaking grabs y/n's attention. His head snaps towards the cave, bow, and arrow aimed at whatever threat lurks in the shadows. The footsteps get closer.
Y/n looks down and tilts his head. "Wolverine?" He whispered and lowered his bow. The animal tilts its head as it watches Y/n. Y/n doesn't kill the critter. It's too big for him to eat this night. And he can't put it up to dry in this weather. He lets the critter go and watches it run off. "What's a wolverine doing in these parts of the woods." He asks himself and continues walking to find a squirrel or something.
He managed to catch a groundhog. Even though it's mostly fat it still has enough to eat for the night. He can use the fat for the fire if necessary. The meat's cooking on a flat rock above the fire while Y/n's making more arrows.
He feels as if someone's watching him. He pushes that feeling to the back of his head and keeps sharpening his arrows. He makes sure his bow is near as he keeps his senses on high alert.
A bench snaps and Y/n is quick to act. Aming his bow and arrow at the cause of the sound. He starts to panic once he notices a large wolf. He can't fight that thing. Not with these arrows. "Shit"
Y/n slowly walks back and keeps his bow aimed just in case. But that's not so easy. Y/n stumbles over a rock and falls on his ass. He groans and looks for where his arrow fell. Then he hears the wolf whimper and run off.
Y/N's head snaps to where the wolf once stood but all he sees is a big man. His hair is long and messy and his beard could use a trim.
"What are you doing in these parts of the woods?" His voice is low and rough. It pierces through y/n and he's at a loss of words. "Uh... um..."
The man grunts in response. "Cat got your tongue?" Y/N just blushes as he watches the man. "Thank you... For saving me." He managed to say as he stood up.
The man nods and starts walking away. Y/n panics and jogs after him. "Wait!"
The man keeps walking. "What's your name?" Y/n asks as he keeps up with him. The man doesn't respond and keeps walking. "Wait hold up! I have to thank you." "You already did." The man huffs. "Then tell me at least your name." Y/n pleaded. The man huffs and stops. He faces y/n and looks over him. "Why were you camping there anyway?"
Y/n stops too. He looks down. "Just taking a break from society."
The man's expression softened in understanding. "...I'm Logan." His voice isn't as rough as it was earlier. "What's a kid like you doing away from society anyway." Logan said and continued walking but at a slower pace.
"Just... Everything got so overwhelming ya know..." Y/n shrugged and walked by his side. Logan only nods.
They walk in calm silence through the forest. They pass by some animals but don't think much of them.
"Ya know that groundhog you had is probably burned to crips now..." Logan said as they stood watching some deer drink from a lake. Y/n suddenly remembers about his camp. "Fuck... It took me two hours to find something in this weather..." Y/n groans. Logan looks at the younger man. "I... I have some gas station sandwiches in my camp if you're hungry." Logan suggested. He doesn't know why but somehow being around another guy who's also escaping society makes him want to keep him around.
Y/N looks at him surprised. He wants to decline but the way his stomach grumbles makes him answer instead. Logan chuckles and nods towards a cave and says. "Follow me." And without question he does.
Why is y/n following him? No clue. But he feels safe with him. That doesn't mean his guard is down. No of course not.
It's not a long walk to Logan's cave. It looks like he's lived here for a long time. "Where do you sleep? I don't see a cot or anything." Y/n asked as he looked around. There's a radio, an empty bottle of whiskey, a picture of a woman. He tilts his head and is about to ask about her but he's interrupted by a plastic box with a sandwich thrown at him.
Y/n catches it in time and looks at Logan. "Thanks." Logan nods and goes to the small radio. Y/n watches as Logan searches for a station. "I need to get me one of those." Y/n joked. Logan chuckles.
Y/N opens his sandwich and watches Logan move. Eventually, Logan stumbles upon a Willie Nelson song. He leaves it on. "Oh, I know that one." Y/n piped in. Logan looks at him surprised. "You know Willy?" Y/n nods. "Yeah. And I listen to this song the most." He chuckles as the familiar melody of 'cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other' plays from the crappy radio.
Logan chuckles. "You know it because it's about gays don't you" Y/n laughs at his assumption. "Maybe. But that doesn't change that I know Willie Nelson." They both laugh.
Y/n eats his sandwich slowly, savoring the taste, and hums along to the music. He's practically zoned out and doesn't notice how the older man is watching him.
"Do you drink?" Logan asks to get y/n's attention. The younger man looks up at him and shrugs. "Yeah sure, whatcha got?" He asks as he watches the caveman move around. "Whiskey." He holds up the unopened bottle. "But uh... I don't have any cups or anything so we'll have to share the bottle." The older man said and opened the bottle.
"I don't mind." Y/n shrugged and finished his sandwich.
It's been hours. The sun has set and the woods are filled with laughter. Logan and Y/n are laughing and singing along with any songs from the radio they know. Logan can surprisingly sing really well but he doesn't comment on it. Logan's arm is wrapped around Y/n's shoulders as they sway side to side. They have probably drank two bottles of whiskey and now they're staring another. Probably. Who knows. Definitely not them because they are drunk.
Y/n takes a long swing of the whiskey. Logan calms down from his laughter and looks at Y/n. He looks so hot. He doesn't know if it's the way the moonlight reflects in his eyes. Or the way his Addams apple bops when he swallows. Or if just that he's drunk out of his ass and his months of zero human contact are making him realize how fucking horny he is. He takes the bottle from y/n and takes a swing.
Y/n lets out a groan of protest and tries to reach for the bottle but Logan stops him. He sets the bottle down, pulls y/n into a kiss, and lets the whiskey pour into the younger man's mouth. Y/n gorans and swallows as much as he can. Their tongues mingle together and Logan drops the bottle which shatters on the stone but neither of them cares. They're too focused on their makeout.
Logan pushes the younger man back against the stone wall so he can straddle him. He feels his thigh being gripped almost instantly and lets out a low growl in response. He notices how the older man is strangely heavy but doesn't question it. In fact, he likes it.
"Damn it, kid..." Logan grunts and reaches for y/n's belt. Y/n looks at him with hazy eyes. He's drunk and making out with a stranger. But at this state, he could care less. All he wants right now is to have that caveman bouncing on his dick. "A little help?" Y/n is snapped out of his thoughts by Logan's question. He looks down and realizes he's trying to remove his pants. He lifts his hips up a bit so they slide down far enough for his dick to spring free. He shivers at the cold air.
Logan lets out a growl and takes him in his hand. He teases the tip and kisses the younger man's neck. Y/n just moans and throws his head back. "You wanna fuck my ass, don't you. Yeah. I think you do. I can smell it." Logan grunts as he undoes his belt. Y/n whines and helps Logan with his pants. The older man smirks and lifts up so he's just on his knees and his crotch is touching the younger man's chest. "good boy" Y/n shivers at the praise. Or maybe at the cold air touching his heated dick.
Logan gets up to kick off his pants before he sits back down. He doesn't waste time and lines up. "Wait you'll tear!" Y/n gripped his hips but Logan shrugs it off with a simple "I'll heal" before he sinks down. They both moan out. It's been a while since Logan has been fucked in the ass but hell if he's not happy that he's being filled. Y/N? He's whining. He's not a virgin no. But having a big heavy caveman clenching and sucking his soul through his dick with his ass is making him woozy. And by heavy he means heavy.
"Yeah just like that. Fuck this hairy ass like your life depends on it." Logan groans as he lifts up halfway and lets his weight do the work. Y/n claws at Logan's thighs. He doesn't know how much pressure he's using but the way Logan groans with each deep scratch makes him want to do it everywhere he can.
Y/n meets Logan's bounces and thrusts up into him. Logan throws his head back and wraps his hand around the younger man's neck. Y/N gripped the older man's thighs tighter and gasped for air.
"Fuck I can feel you twitching. Are you close? Already?" Logan growled which sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. "We just got started." The older man huffed and squeezed the younger man's throat again. Y/n whimpered and lifted his hands to dig his nails into Logan's hips.
Logan loosens his grip and lets the man breathe. The younger man gasps for air and watches how the older man bounces so fast. He's slowly questioning how old the caveman is and if this is good for his knees. But he's too lost in pleasure to talk.
"Fuck I'm close." The older man groans. He hates to say it but it's been so long his stamina isn't as good. The younger man whines and sits up to mark Logan's neck. Logan tangles his hand in his hair and grips it tightly. Y/N cries out, bites down on his neck, and cums deep into Logan. The older man groans throws his head back and loses balance. He sits on the younger man with full weight and cums over their hoodies. Y/n keeps his arms around Logan and lays them down. He ensures he doesn't pull out as he covers them with a blanket Logan had lying around.
He can feel that his hips are so fucking sore. He wraps his arms around Logan and cuddles him close and caresses his back. Y/n doesn't notice but all the scratches and bite marks he's left behind have healed. Leaving no signs of what just happened.
They both fall asleep almost instantly. Will the alcohol allow them to remember what they did in the morning? Who knows. But the cum stuffed in Logan's ass definitely will remind them.
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potheadkiki · 2 months
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Warnings!
Dubious consent
Pet names(kitten, love, pretty, baby, etc.)
Chubby reader
Age gap
Kinda breaking and entering but she's fine with it
Insecure reader
Aizawa is kinda a perv
Needy boy
Virgin reader
Virgin kink
Kinda breath play
Dom/sub under tones
One night Aizawa gets a call from Chief Kenji Tsuragamae asking if it would be possible for him to check out the area around the dorm room. Aizawa clearly confused asks why he should be leaving the safety of his own room this late at night and Kenji explains that there was a thief spotted in that area and that it's been a common complaint at the police station so with a sigh aizawa reluctantly agrees reluctantly that it should be fine, he can't sleep anyway and it's late so he decides to one last bed check before shooting his T.A a message before leaving. He barely gets a block away before he notices some guy lurking around someone's house in a hoodie
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing I mean honestly making me leave my damn room for this" he says rolling his eyes activating his capture weapon wrapping the guy up pulling his phone out to let calling Kenji letting him know that he caught the guy only to be stopped as he hears the guy begin to laugh making a comment about how he should have checked his surroundings more looking up he's attacked by another man, said man throws pink dust in his face getting it in his eyes and throwing him off balance. Aizawa is a mess by the time Kenji arrives. He still has the one guy in the corner but his friend managed to get away after he fell down.
"Jesus Aizawa you're burning up. Let me take you to the hospital" Kenji says and Aizawa slaps his hand away refusing,telling him he'll be fine he just needs to lay down but as he gets closer to the dorm his heart races as he thinks about his T.A. She's younger than him admittedly but that doesn't change the way he feels. The second she appeared in his life was better, brighter even. She constantly helps out and even does most of the teaching. She lets him lay under their shared desk in that yellow sleeping bag as she teaches. He tries so hard to not look up her skirt when she's standing there or sitting down. Sometimes he fails and he has to excuse himself to the bathroom. He doesn't realize that he's made his way back to the dorms. Stepping into the elevator he presses the button to his floor heart pounding they're both on the same floor and he doesn't understand why he feels this way. God he's horny as hell and can barely string two thoughts together unless they're about you.
Next thing he knows he's in front of your dorm heart throbbing and cock hard as hell. His hand reaches out and grabs the door knob. His mind telling him to stop. He can't do this. He can't just act however he wants, do whatever he wants, but that doesn't stop his hand from turning the knob. The door creaks open and he finds you laying there on your stomach blanket thrown across your thighs exposing most of your body. He moans at the sight of you. Only in a large t-shirt and a pair of pretty black panties that hug your ass perfectly. Closing your door he steps forward again and again his legs don't stop until it's the bed itself that's blocking his way. Looking at your face he gently pushes some of the hair out of your face cupping your cheek he watches as you moan at the action leaning into his hand. He groans. Sitting down on the edge of your bed he begins to gently play your hair. Hand moving lower and lower pinching your ass which causes you to jump a little in your sleep and he does it again, pinching your under cheek and again at your thigh. All the while he kisses at your face he feels you stir as your eyes open instantly coming face to face with Aizawa gently rolling over to face him you ask
"Mhm what's what's happening?"you mumble looking up at him gasping as you register that you're not alone and Aizawa was just kissing/groping you
"I didn't think you'd be awake yet" he says leaning in and he kisses you passionately pushing you onto your back one hand propping him up as the other slides under your shirt to play with the chub of your stomach. You begin to realize what's happening and you push him off you
"What's gotten into you" you ask looking at him almost concerned. Don't get it wrong you're extremely attracted to him and would love to be in a relationship with him but he seems off. When you pushed him off you could feel his heart beating fast, face flushed almost feverish, and his breathing is uneven.
"Fuck. I inhaled some pink dust and then all I could do was think about you. I mean literally. All my thoughts were jumbled and I felt like I couldn't even start a sentence but when it came to you Jesus I could do an entire book report. I don't even remember making it to the dorms. I remember getting in the elevator and arriving at my floor and then I ended up here where you are and I couldn't stop myself. I can't stop myself." He says leaning in again and you gently curve your head so he kisses your cheek instead.
"Aizawa please. You've clearly been affected by some quirk you can't do this. I can't do this. I mean you will most likely regret this in the morning and I can't live with that. I can't give you my virginity knowing you're probably not going to remember this in the morning." You say pulling away gently holding his hand close and you watch as he gets teary eyed, almost like a child when you tell them no more candy
"No, please baby can't you see. My mind is so foggy the only thing that's clear is how I feel about you and you make me feel" He says squeezing your hands as the tears continue to flow
"I could've gone to any other teachers rooms on the way here or just in general. But I made my way back, back to you. I want to be with you. I always have. But how was I supposed to tell you. I'm just some old perv that looks up your skirt when you're not looking. You deserve someone better. But I just couldn't stop myself." He says and there's a blush on your face as you listen to his confession
"I understand if you want to press charges. I've heard that they're have been similar cases so I'm-" before he can finish his sentence you lean in kissing him.
"Maybe that pink dust is beginning to affect me" you say jokingly expecting him to dismiss what you said but you watch as he sighs heavily and looks away before saying
"It's possible I'm sorry it got all in my face and I'm sure under my fingernails" he looks down ashamed and you have to admit you're shocked at that. It's possible that you can be affected too? That's scary! But Aizawa was dealing with this first looking at him you notice his face
"What's the matter?" I ask feeling as my heart beat quickens, my breath becomes uneven and your panties practically flood with excitement. Mhm Jesus if this how he feels no wonder he slipped into your room
"I feel like I did this to you. I mean you were fine before" he says looking away but at this point you shimmy your way into his lap desperate for his touch. Needy for his love. Hungry for his lips. Hoping to ease his mind with your own confession
"I understand why you could feel that way. But don't. I want to be with you in every sense on the way. I want your hands on me. I want your lips. I want everything your willing to give me and so much more" You say with a smile cupping his face leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips before pulling away and doubling over in pain clutching your stomach before mumbling out
"It hurts" you say with another pained groan but Aizawa is quick to catch you lay you back against your pillows thighs rubbing together as you grip at his shirt
"Yeah I know love it's gonna hurt till the person you love touches you basically" he says
"Mhm then why are you waiting? Touch me zawa" you say pleading with him and he groans at that comment leaning in kissing you harshly.
"Fuck your gonna be the death of me you know that?" You says slotting between your legs slipping one hand under your shirt and trailing it up your sternum until he gropes at your right breast pushing his hips against yours grinding against your clothes cunt
"Mhm you feel that kitten? That's what you do to me. How you make me feel." He says against your ear. A blush spreading across your face and to your ears.
"Please don't talk like that" you say shyly holding your face only for him to pry your hands away looking at you with hooded and lust filled eyes as he laughs
"What's the matter baby you don't like dirty talk?" He asks with a cheeky smirk. He smiles at the way you react
"God I'm never going to get over the fact that you're a virgin. My pretty little obsession, all innocent and precious. My god I'm in love with you." He says pulling your panties down seeing the damp spot on them smirking
"I'm not innocent just inexperienced okay? Theres a difference" you say shyly feeling his lips kiss your neck and suck bruises into your jugular.
"How about we change that? Yeah?" He asks and you feel as his right hand starts to move down instead and slides to your exposed pussy gently cupping you. He's kissing you passionately as his fingers play with your clit. He can feel you gasp into his kiss, gripping at his wrist trying to stop him from the immense pleasure your feeling.
"What's the matter you want me to stop?"
"No don't! The feeling is just scary. It never feels like this when I do it" you say shyly admitting that you touch yourself
"Oh yeah what do you think about?"
"You, I think of you zawa" you admit shyly gasping as you feel his middle finger insert grasping at his chest
"What's the matter baby?" He asks almost condescending
"Your finger is so big *gasp* bigger than mine and feel so fucking good" you moan as you grip at his chest hopelessly. He smashes his lips against yours as his finger curls up against that spongy spot inside you before slipping his ring finger inside as well performing the same action again. You can feel the sting of the stretch god it hurts so good, feeling as a tear drop slips down your eye he pulls away
"Awe baby what's the matter?" He asks licking your tear away
"I never thought I'd be doing this with you" you say as more tears begin to fall down your face. You can't tell if it's the dust in your system or just the repressed feelings finally coming up.
"Pretty sure it's me that should be me crying. I'm the one that broke in and confessed and you're still letting me touch you hell look at you." He says kissing you again but you notice that his own eyes are getting misty you giggle at that but the moment is short lived as he thrusts his fingers in particularly harsh curling his fingers as his thumb rubs at your clit
"Now just sit back and relax. I'm gonna have my virgin baby cum on my fingers." He says nonchalantly fingers not letting up as they curl and rub roughly at your g-spot. Thighs shaking at the sensation head thrown back, he begins sucking more hickies into your skin.
"I'm gonna-" you can't finish your sentence as your mouth drops open in a silent scream as you cream all over his fingers. Breathing heavily as your chest rises and falls, legs falling open as you try to steady your breathing. He kisses you passionately only pulling away to pull his T-shirt up and throws it to somewhere as he does the same thing with his pants and boxers leaving you both naked. As he slots himself between your thighs you feel as he slips his cock between your folds tip nudging at your clit and then snagging at your hole before repeating the action.
"*Gasping* please shouta just do it. I'm ready please." All your begging seems to be affecting him as you feel his tip prod at your hole. Grasping at the sheets from the pain as he pushes inside only half way before he stops. Your breathing is uneven and your pussy clenches painfully around him. He looks down realizing that you're bleeding he groans
"Cmon love take a breather. Focus on your breathing I won't move until you want me to." He says gently as his thumb rubs against your clit but you can feel his own hips twitch as he attempts to stop himself from thrusting in completely
"I'm sorry*sob* I can only imagine how you're feeling but you can't even move*sob*" and he laughs at that causing him to move which makes you wince slightly
"Sure it sucks a little I can't move. But fuck I'm inside you baby. I've got my thumb rubbing your clit. I'm taking your fucking virginity. I'm fucking great baby" he says kissing you. Feeling as your hips move slightly bucking up against his he laughs
"What a needy little thing you are huh?" He says laughing slightly as he pushes more into you and you tremble around him thighs shaking at the feeling of him filling you up. God your so fucking full. You exhale shakily
"You're so big" you gasp out gently and you watch as he smiles to himself proudly. The disheveled look on your face, the way your eyes are teary, red and swollen lips from all the kissing and lip biting, the hickies that scatter across your body, pretty nipples that perk up with the cold air of the night, stomach trembling and thighs clenching around his hips God his ego was through the fucking roof at the moment. The woman he's truly been obsessed with is underneath him, bleeding for him as he takes your virginity. Hips moving at a steady pace as his thumb rubs your clit. He can feel as you begin to tighten up again and he smirks
"Yeah you gonna cum in my cock baby? I can feel you squeezing me so good. Cum baby. Cum do it for me." He says leaning over lifting your hips to adjust the angel so he's rubbing against your g-spot with each thrust perfectly.
"I'm-im gonna cum please don't stop *gasp* kiss me please" you ask slightly and he happily obliges leaning down lifting your hips even more placing you in a matting press as he smashes his lips against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth as you scratch at his back feeling as you slightly draw blood, hearing him grown at the pain but that doesn't stop you from roughly gripping his shoulders. You can feel his skin under your finger nails as he pushes you to cum. Cumming around his cock with a strangled moan that's just swallowed up by him as he continues to fuck you chasing his own orgasm now. Once he does cum he pulls away kissing your face as he completely pulls out much to your dismay. But you watch as he gets up and slips his boxers back on him clearly seeing your dismay he kisses you again
"I gotta get you cleaned up love. Plus I'm sure you're thirsty" he says pressing another kiss to your temple before leaving while gone you gently crawl to the end of the bed and reach over grabbing at the shirt Aizawa tossed away earlier slipping it on happily as you lay back against the pillows waiting for him to come back. A part of you is telling you that he isn't coming back but that's ridiculous he literally didn't even grab his pants so you just lay there until your door knob turns and he pushes the door open slipping inside and you notice he has a wet wash cloth, two bottles of water,3 protein bars and some new sheets. You look at him happily
"I wasn't sure what protein bar you actually wanted so I just grabbed both for you and figured you could just choose." He says finally looking up and he realizes that you're wearing his shirt
"God you're gonna domesticate the fuck out of me if you keep pulling shit like this" he says walking over to you putting the water bottles and protein bars on the bed side table as he takes his place next to you spreading your legs and cleaning you off. You gently wince once he gets closer to your abused pussy, he murmurs out a quick sorry before continuing. You watch his smile as he goes
"Alrighty love I'mma pick you up and sit you on the chair so I can change your sheets ok?" And you happily nod as you lift your arms and he grabs you putting you in the said chair watching as he places the pillows on the desk and pulls the sheets off the bed tossing them to a corner of the room making a comment that he'll wash them in the morning. Placing the new sheets on the bed, putting the pillows back to their rightful spot on the bed he grabs you and lays you down on the bed as well giggling at how it makes you feel to be moved around like you weigh nothing. He slips into bed as you place your head on his chest listening to his steady heart beat closing your eyes as you feel his hand draw small circles into your back gently lulling you to sleep and your own steady breathing put Aizawa out almost instantly
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hunnylagoon · 8 months
Text
When I Was Your Girl
Stage Fright
Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader
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‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’
Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.
Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick
Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes
I've never been anything more than a joke.
I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.
Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 
"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."
"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.
"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"
She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."
"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."
Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"
She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."
I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."
I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.
"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.
I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."
The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"
"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."
He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"
"Nope."
"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 
"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.
As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.
I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.
I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 
Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.
Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.
His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.
"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 
"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.
"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.
"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.
"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.
My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.
I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.
When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.
I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.
Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.
The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.
It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 
I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.
Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.
If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.
My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.
Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.
She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.
I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.
I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.
Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.
"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."
Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.
Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 
"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.
Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.
I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.
Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.
At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."
The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.
I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."
I lived for the applause.
"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-
Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.
"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.
Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing
The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.
Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.
"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.
She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.
My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.
I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.
"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.
"I am so beyond grateful-
"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."
Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.
"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”
It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.
"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"
People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.
 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.
I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."
"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.
I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.
After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.
Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."
Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.
Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.
Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.
I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.
That was the night I truly became famous.
Grade eight- Age thirteen 
Middle school is hard.
Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.
I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.
Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.
In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life
"If you gave me only one wish,
I wouldn't want to feel this way.
They told me I'd have your memory
But all I want is you to stay
And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,
It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,
I wanted you to know."
I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain
This beautiful pain for you."
However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.
"If I sailed the world on stormy seas
Chasing sunlight that I can't see.
I was a dreamer here before,
Before I woke up and fell to the floor
And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,
Even with a scar this butterfly flew.
I wanted you to know."
I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.
"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day, these bones will heal
And they'll leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do
This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."
Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.
"And all I'll ever need
And all I'll ever be,
Within every part of me is this,
This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you
And one day these bones will heal
And leave me with the truth
And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
This beautiful pain,
For you."
As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.
The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.
I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 
He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.
It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.
"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.
"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.
"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"
"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.
"What happened?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"
I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.
"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."
"I sang at the talent show today."
"And?"
"Everyone made fun of me."
He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"
"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.
"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."
"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.
"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"
I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."
"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.
After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.
When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"
"I dunno."
"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."
"So what do I do?"
"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."
Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.
I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"
I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 
-
Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out
     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself
     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole
     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails
conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.
     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom
     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.
     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé
     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me
     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.
stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?
      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy
      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn
thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album
     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝
    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????
    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?
    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔
     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis
sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.
   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television
    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist
    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't
bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested
  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system
    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom
   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 
charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING
juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.
botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.
    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.
carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????
katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene
howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.
   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious
  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke
allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV
jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh
hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll
4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice
sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.
carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed
    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid
     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔
"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.
"Well, it's not really my fault."
"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"
My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-
"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.
"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."
"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."
I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.
I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.
418 notes · View notes
bvidzsoo · 4 months
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⟡ Husband!Jongho ⟡
∞ Author: bvidzsoo
∞ Pairing: Choi Jongho x female reader
∞ Warning: suggestive, violence, torture, death, cursing ∞ Word count: 2.5k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, marriage of convenience!au, established relationship!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Always hungry for more, in a world full of men who fought for more power, you might have just hit the jackpot by coming to an agreement and marrying the country's mafia leader's son. Soon, Jongho and you will be the one leading all.
∞ A/N: Second part of my so-called mafia drabble mini-series is up, and I quite like this one, I can't lie hihi. Despite the warnings, I haven't detailed anything too much, so it's not very graphic. Next I'll post either Seonghwa or Wooyoung, I'll see who's plot I'm feeling more. I'll point out once again that I won't be starting a taglist for this mini-series, so you'll have to lurk around ^^ Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, and pls let me know your thoughts about it, I love reading your feedback, always!
⟡ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^
∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥
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            The quietness of the building would have been eerie if I didn’t know men hid around every dark corner, cameras encompassing the whole building. However, to those unknowing, it gave the false sense of aloneness. In my world, there are eyes on you always, even when you least expect it. And in a notorious mafia leader’s den, you better prepare yourself to face horror upon horror, rats upon rats. And not the animals, but mere peasants—low in the hierarchy of our world—who thought they could outsmart their leader and gain something by ratting them out to other gangs and syndicates. Except, that’s not how it works in our world, at least not in my husband and mine’s.
My heels clicked loudly against the concrete stairs as I ascended them, fur coat slipping from my shoulder as I held my little purse in one hand. It was slightly warmer up here, and more well lit compared to the downstairs. I rounded the corner and was met with two tall men, gazing straight ahead, until I stopped in front of them and caught their attention. Recognition flashed behind their eyes instantly. It wasn’t too often I stopped by the warehouse, I preferred fancy places and not beaten down lairs that had insects crawling around. Both figuratively and literally.
“Ma’am.” Both men bowed their heads in unison, eyes staying glued to the floor as I smiled, allowing my fur coat to slip down my shoulders.
“Do you mind putting this away for me?” I asked with a sweet tone, extending the expensive fur coat towards the man standing to my left.
“No, ma’am, it will be in your office this instant.” The man bowed his head again before he turned right and took off hurriedly, headed for my office. Well, it wasn’t my office per se, but my husband was sweet enough to let me have a decent sized room in this gloomy warehouse of his for when my presence was mostly needed. Like tonight.
“Is he in his office?” I asked as I looked towards the large oak doors at the end of the hallway, but the remaining security guard just shook his head.
“No, ma’am, he’s in the chamber.”
“Ah.” I chuckled, looking down towards the dark hallway on my left, suddenly registering the soft classical music that was coming from the only room down there. The chamber, or, better known, the torture room. For some reason, the men working here avoided calling it that and it had always amused me. Tough, bulky, fearless men uncomfortable to call it the torture room? It’s rather comedic, taken what their jobs in my husband’s empire require most of times from them. I offered the guard another sweet smile before throwing my purse over my shoulder, holding its paper-thin strap decorated with the finest diamonds on Earth, “I’ll be on my way, then.”
The guard bowed his head deeply and as I took off, the sound of my heels echoing around us, the soft classical music louder the further I walked down the hallway. The long sleeve of my dress did an amazing job at keeping the chill in the air away from my body, the fabric a black velvet and really warm. It was a present from my dearest husband, not even a week ago. I had gotten him a necklace filled with diamonds, and so, he felt it necessary to return the offer by buying me something pretty. He knows I have a weakness for long sleeved black velvet dresses with a deep V-cut. I chuckled as I stopped in front of the white door, the screams of whoever was behind the door not so quiet anymore. The music from up-close wasn’t loud enough to mask the pained moans anymore. I gripped the handle and pushed the door open, stepping inside.
There was a stale smell in the room and my eyebrows furrowed as I shielded my nose, the stench of blood familiar yet still disgusting. The clicking of my heels was masked by the overly loud screams of the man as I walked further inside the room, looking to my left. A man that looked slightly familiar was strapped down to a table, a drill buzzing as it rammed against his leg, no less into his bone. I shot him a pitiful look, the man begging louder and louder for it to stop as he noticed me. But in this den full of lions, I wasn’t the boss. It was my husband.
Choi Jongho.
Looking ahead, I was greeted with the familiar sight of him, relaxed into his leather armchair, swirling his bourbon around in his glass. I smiled at him sweetly as I slowly approached him, stepping on black carpet as Jongho watched me with attentive eyes, slightly darker in this lightning than they actually were. It made me grin in satisfaction when I noticed the diamond necklace around his neck, the top of his shirt undone. Well, that certainly was a delicious sight.
I came to a stop in front of the man, grin morphing into a smirk as he further parted his legs, grabbing my wrist to pull me to stand between them. Jongho took another gulp of his bourbon before placing the empty glass on the little table he had by the armchair, letting his head fall back as he looked up at me, sharp eyes trailing up from my legs to my eyes, biting his lower lip once we made eye contact.
“You look pristine for someone who’s torturing somebody.” My voice was low, perhaps sultry for such setting, but then again, I always found joy in toying with my dear husband when the situation wasn’t too fit for it.
“Hoshi just left, I wanted to be the one finishing the job.” Jongho’s usually angelic voice was now low, baritone rumbling his chest. I licked my lips, completely distracted by my husband as the screaming man’s voice became quite bearable after a while. I’ve heard people louder and more awful than him, to be fair.
“Of course,” I chuckled softly and gulped down a gasp as I was yanked down in Jongho’s lap, him sitting up properly as he circled my waist with his arm, leaning incredibly close to my face, “you love other people doing your dirty work for you, just to be the one to finish it.”
“If I have hired them, I expect them to do their part of the deal, you know.” Jongho muttered, eyes glued to my glossy lips. I had decided to try out a new lip gloss tonight, it tasted like strawberries. The man’s pained screams became rather pathetic by now as he continued wailing, the sound blending together with Jongho’s favorite musical piece. My husband has always loved a good opera.
“Care to tell me why the man looks familiar?” I threw a glance towards the tortured person on the table as I reached up, fingers tangling into Jongho’s black roots, softly pulling on them as his eyes fluttered just a little.
“He used to be my intel man,” Jongho’s voice was airy, but he gulped and his jaw clenched when my fingers pulled a little harsher at the hair on his nape, “turns out he was the rat sending information to my father.”
I scoffed, jaw clenching as I turned to look at the man laying strapped down to the table. So, he was the reason why Jongho’s, and subsequently my, affairs kept getting sabotaged, “Took you long enough to find him.”
“Don’t mock me, woman.” Jongho snapped, grabbing my jaw and turning my head back to face him, “I worked faster than your pathetic excuses of goons did, didn’t I?”
“No need to get so worked up, honey,” I chuckled, leaning so close our noses brushed together, “however, you could have been smarter about this.”
When Jongho said nothing just raised his eyebrows, his right hand slipping from my waist to my ass to squeeze, I smirked at him, leaning close to his ear, “You should have kept him alive and fed him with false intel, fucked with your father a little, you know?”
When I went to pull back, Jongho gripped my nape and held me in place, lips brushing lightly against my exposed ear as my hair was pulled back in a low bun, “I would have done that if my father already didn’t know that I had found out about this little fucker.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, Jongho’s musky scent mingling with the stench of blood making my stomach tighten as I leaned back, the hand holding his nape sneaking towards his neck as I started toying with the necklace I had gifted him, “So, when are we going after you father?”
“As soon as your brother bites down on our trap.” I smirked, excited for the day to come as Jongho’s large palm squeezed my ass once, before softly making me stand up. I knew what he wanted without saying a word, and I grinned as I grabbed my forgotten purse off the floor, opening it. I made sure to bend down just the right amount in front of Jongho, my dress ridding up but not to the point of showing my ass, and I heard him suck in a harsh breath. Bingo, men are so easy. My favorite handgun glinted in the light and I blew Jongho a kiss before walking towards the screaming man, hips swaying in a way I knew would have Jongho hard in no time.
You see, our marriage wasn’t out of love, it wasn’t even close to that of a forced one. Our marriage was of convenience, both of us hungry for more and determined to do whatever we had to in order to get to the top. Jongho’s father, the most powerful mafia head in the country, and my brother, the second most affluential man of our country, were our targets. Once both were gone, Jongho and I would be ruling over everyone and everything in this damned country. And we were so close to finally getting what we wanted, five years of hard and diligent work finally getting repaid as his father was getting sloppy with his trades, and my brother arrogant to the point he was making banal mistakes even a newbie wouldn’t make. Soon, the empire would be mine—and Jongho’s. Soon, people would be bowing down at our feet, begging for their sins to be forgiven.
I stopped by the man’s side and turned the drill off, his screams ringing for a few more seconds until just his sobs were heard. His body was covered in wounds and bruises as it convulsed, he was as good as dead at this point. I sighed, feigning sadness as I stepped back, walking to the foot of the table, undoing the safety of my handgun. The man’s eyes widened when he registered my presence at his feet, but before he could make a sound, the bullet had already pierced his skull, the silencer on my handgun masking the sound and its lethalness. Claps resounded in the room, the classical music finally over, and I rolled my eyes and turned around. Jongho had an amused smile on his face as he stopped clapping, holding my purse as I slowly walked back towards him, eyes narrowing when he extended his palm, silently asking for my handgun. I reluctantly placed it in his hand and we shared a prolonged stare, our thoughts no doubt the same. If he killed me now, he’d be the next mafia head and yielder of all business. But he placed my handgun inside my purse and then gently placed that on the small table, next to his glass.
As I went to cross my arms in front of my chest and demand to know why he had flown oversees without letting me know first, I was yanked down in his lap again, this time failing to silence my gasp. I steadied myself using his firm shoulders, thighs resting on both sides of his hips, the leather soft against my naked skin. Jongho’s right hand rested on my left knee, slowly gliding up towards my thigh, his palm warm and yet rings cool against my skin. I gulped as Jongho smirked confidently, and quite smugly, leaning up to press our chests together.
“This dress drives me fucking insane,” He rasped, eyes staying glued to my exposed cleavage, “I’m glad I bought it for you.”
I chuckled, but didn’t allow myself to get sidetracked. I already knew Jongho and his tactics when he tried to avoid something, and it was always sex. Well, he wouldn’t get that until he did some explaining.
“Why did you go to Japan?” I raised an eyebrow, glaring down at him despite the way his hands were slowly creeping closer to my panties.
“Had to supervise some cargo before it got sent off.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
At his deadpan voice, I sneered and leaned in his face, glaring into his dark eyes, “Don’t fucking lie to me, Jongho. You have enough men to do that for you. If I find out you’re doing something behind my back, I will kill you.”
“Relax, love,” Jongho chuckled, hand slipping to my ass and kneading the flesh through the lacey panties I wore. I bit my lower lip, hiking myself a little higher up in his lap, “When I made my vows to you, I meant it when I said we’d stay together forever—unless you are conspiring behind my back, about to break my trust.”
“That’s not my style, and you know that.” I chuckled as Jongho’s fingers dug into the flesh of my ass, making me lick my lips just as he leaned up, closing the distance between us. It’s been a week since I last have felt his lips against mine, and I moaned against his mouth as he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, slowly releasing it with a pop. But I didn’t allow him to pull back as I chased after his soft mouth, our lips moving messily as Jongho’s palm on my ass urged me to roll my hips against his already growing erection. I groaned into his mouth, slipping my tongue past his lips when he opened up enough, our tongues dancing together as he let me explore his hot mouth. His free hand caressed my hip before slowly trailing up my body, cupping my breast and squeezing as I moaned again, gyrating my hips in the right way, slow and teasing, knowing well that Jongho would lose his cool in the next ten seconds. And as I bit his bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth and biting hard on it, his eyes flew open and he hissed, all but almost ripping my panties apart as he yanked them down, urging me to raise slightly up as I smirked, kissing all the way from his jaw up to his ear, taking his earring between my teeth as I licked at his earlobe with my tongue.
The world wasn’t ready for our empire.
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strawberripine · 4 months
Text
yet again emerging from the depths to post my last bits of fable art :,)
also throwing in a large sappy paragraph (slight cw for some discussions of family issues):
being a part of fable smp was such a privilege. when i first joined, it was just me and a couple of my irl blorbos deciding it would be a fun quirky idea to start an smp our own, and now it has become something truly impressive and heartfelt.
specifically from my perspective, playing c!momboo meant a lot to me. she’s similar to me in a lot of ways, obviously she is an extension of me, but i think she’s way more than that. c!momboo was based on another story that means a lot to me: Oneshot. if you’re familiar, her character is extremely influenced by not only the plant woman in act 2, but the world itself that communicates with you throughout the game. the idea of the world itself becoming so vulnerable and weak it becomes sentient really struck me, and I knew immediately that’s what I wanted c!momboo to be. what i didn’t expect was how much of a turn her character made early on, when jamie and swipn approached me half joking about her being their mom within lore. i think that’s what really ended up bringing her to life, and what overall became her main driving force: being a mother.
i’m gonna be kinda vulnerable for a second here: i never thought of exploring motherhood in any story i’ve been a part of, even before fable. the idea always scared me, since I don’t have the best relationship with my own mom, and i thought i would end up doing things wrong. but i think that’s kind of the point. there is no guidebook on how to be a good mom, you have to figure that out yourself, along with help from your kids. c!momboo wasn’t a perfect parent, far from it. she made some pretty intense mistakes, especially early on, and i’ll be the first to admit that playing her through those times was rough. there were moments where i felt i was leaning into the exact parent i would never want to be, and it was scary, but eventually c!momboo learned from those mistakes, making an effort to regain her kids’ trust over time.
c!momboo holds a special place in my heart because of all the things i stated, and while her story is over, i think she’ll always somehow end up in things i create. not by name, but her own courage and strength infused into what i do.
before i wrap this up, i want to mention the one story that really stands out to me from the process of working on fable: when the famous haleygar herself and i the night before the server released were scrambling to help sherbert figure out a title (not only that, but knowing this title would end up being the name of a certain major character later on lol) and eventually settling on Fable, not just because it sounded cool, but because that’s what this server was always meant to be: a story. a story filled with heart and soul poured not just from the cast, but from you guys. i think my favorite part of this project was always seeing what you all created, and how you guys ended up influencing us. our stories wouldn’t have been the same without you guys there, whether that be in chat, or even simply lurking. i’m grateful for all of you who were there, and i really hope you enjoyed the story <3
Until next time,
Momboo <3
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teyamsgrl · 10 months
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Hi Jade!
Do you think we can get a neteyam x human reader with stretch marks? Like the one with Lo'ak?
thank you so much for the req! i love these kind of fics and am more than happy to do one for neteyam as well! it's so important to create fics surrounding natural things like stretch marks that become insecurities as it can prove as great comfort for anyone struggling. enjoy 😊
opposite view ✧ neteyam
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°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, established relationship, insecure reader, best bf neteyam, comfort and reassurance ofc 🥹 - yawne: beloved - mawey: calm/be calm - tanhì: star
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it was difficult having a boyfriend that was a different species than you, for many reasons. you already looked different as it is, but the small things like your stretch marks made this feeling even more intensified. stretch marks were a thing neteyam didn't understand, it just wasn't relevant for the na'vi. he was never one to judge you in any capacity, but the lurking thoughts in the back of your head came to the surface and all you wanted to do was hide.
it was a shock to neteyam when you began to change the attire your wore, a hoodie being a rarity for you to wear considering the humidity of pandora. his eyebrows furrowed when you came from the lab with a hoodie on the first time but nonetheless didn't say anything, figuring it was just comfy for you. but as each day passed he became more concerned and more intrigued by your reasoning for it all.
late one evening you hear large footsteps marching down the hall of the lab towards your room, instantly recognizing the sound as neteyam. you quickly slip on your nearby hoodie having only been in a sports bra while tidying your room before creaking open your door. "yawne" you call out as you peak down the hallway, giggling at the way neteyam is crouching as he walks. "hey" he smiles and ducks into your room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "missed you" he whispers, bending to securely wrap his arms around your middle. "i missed you too, always" you whisper back, short arms wrapping around his neck as you bask in each other's warmth.
he pulls back slightly, eyes scanning your face before diving in, lips catching yours in a passionate kiss. you hum and let your hands run into his braids, fiddling with them as you kiss back. his tongue runs across your bottom lip, your lips parting to allow him in. your tongue glides against his, kiss deepening with every second. his hands that were once on your back were now wandering, groping and holding whatever was available. one of his large hands begins to push up the hem of your sweater, your foggy brain taking a second to register the action before you freeze up. he detaches your lips and speaks slightly breathlessly, "what is it?" his worried stare makes you well up, tears lining your eyes before they start to spill over the edge.
"hey hey..." he whispers softly, pulling you into his lap as he sits on the edge of your small bed. you can't stop the tears that continuously drip from your chin onto neteyam's bare legs underneath you. "mawey, mawey.." his large fingers begin swiping away your tears and coaxing you to take deep breaths. "you're okay.. what's wrong? what is with this sweater?" he inquires, showing you that he's already caught on and has been for some time. "it's the stretch marks, teyam.. i'm just- embarrassed" you sigh, pulling your sweater sleeves over your hands as if to sink into yourself more. "stretch marks?" his head tilts softly as he thinks, "those white lines, you know, on my hips and stomach.." he nods along as you explain.
"those? i love those... what is wrong with them?" his question is sincere, hands resting comfortably on your thighs. you sniffle, "they're just- ugly! an eye sore, just... unnatural" "i would say the opposite.. i think they're beautiful. you're beautiful and they're a part of you. maybe they aren't on every human, but that doesn't mean you should be ashamed of your body and how it works, even if that means creating stretch marks" his words soothe the insecurity flooding your mind, finally settling down. "it will take time, to not feel so bad about them but i will help you do that, anytime. you're beautiful, tanhì" you smile at his words and hug him tight, your body language showing him the genuine gratefulness you felt in this moment.
sure, it would take time to not despise the lines that stared back at you so strongly in the mirror but you knew it would be okay, especially with neteyam by your side. anything is okay with neteyam beside you.
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 2 years
Note
John B screwing his ex to get back at Sarah Cameron for hooking up with Topper, in the boat that they arrived back on, John B not realising that it is a Cameron boat so double win.
On my boat?
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pairing: john b routledge x fem!reader
summary: see above
warnings: unprotected sex, oral, hair pulling, chocking, language. (18+ content)
a/n: as you read you will notice I felt the need of making reader the dominate one.
John B stormed away from the crowd; JJ tried to keep up but decided to let him go off alone. He knew he needed some time alone; no one would have expected Sarah to hook up with Topper.
John B was hurt, they were meant to be married. It was supposed to be, until death do us part. Apparently not for Sarah, she had different ideas.
His knuckles ached from the punches he threw at Topper; he knew topper didn’t try to fight back. He knew he would have been the one on the floor. He’s thankful that he got a few punches in, it helped with the anger that bubbled in his chest.
But he was half wishing Topper had fought back, he wanted to feel some sort of physical pain. It would be a lot easier to handle then this emotional pain he was going through right now.
“Yo John B”
He turned around to see you crossing the street, dressed in short shorts and a white crop. He could see your nipples through the thin material, usually he wouldn’t look but that’s where his eyes landed tonight.
“Eyes up here buddy” you laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. You had just finished work, walking along the kook side of the island. You worked for some fancy schmancy guy, he paid you well for what you did.
Of all the people you didn’t expect to see John B, you hadn’t seen him since he ended things with you and started dating Sarah. You didn’t have any hard feelings towards him, but you did hate Sarah, of course the kook princess would get the hottest pogue on the island.
You kept in touch with the rest of the pogues but with everything going on you hadn’t heard from them in a while, you also didn’t want to be caught up with the shit they were going through. Already having the cops on your back about the weed they found in the backseat of the car you may or may not have stolen.
“Y/N, what are you doing out so late?” John B questioned; you could already tell he was upset. His hair was dishevelled, and you could only guess the wetness on his cheeks where tears.. “Just finished work, you?”.
“Looking for a boat”
“Ooh sounds like another adventure” you winked; he nodded his head but didn’t say anything. Turning his head to look over at the water, boats littered the area.
“That’s the boat your friends came back on” you point, the huge white boat stranded on the side of the island. Well, you assumed stranded, you weren’t aware it was in fact the cameron’s boat.
“How do you know that?” He questioned, he started walking towards the boat. You stood on the spot unsure whether you follow or leave, but your question is answered when he stops and looks at you. “Seen them hop off it the other day”.
You both walk in silence; he helps you aboard the boat and you both look around. Checking to make sure no one was lurking around, every so often. The street lights gave you little light, you reached under a cabinet and grab a torch, walking away from John B you went down the stairs.
It was a large bedroom, the bed unmade. There were wrappers everywhere and empty cans of beer. You assumed the mess was from the pogues and rolled your eyes. “They made quiet the mess”.
John B’s voice made you jump, turning around to see him standing close to you. “Yeah, might need to teach them what a bin is” You laughed, looking up you were met with his chocolate brown eyes.
His skin had a slight burn to it from the deserted island sun, his hair was golden and messy. You quickly looked away when you noticed his eyes dropping to your lips, taking a few steps away you began to walk around the boat.
Rummaging through draws and cupboards until you came across the hidden liquor, pulling out a bottle of tequila. “Shots?”.
You didn’t wait for an answer and took a swig from the bottle, the liquid burning your throat. But you refused to have a coughing fit in front of John B. You could feel his eyes on you, pushing your arm out he grabbed the bottle.
“So, what’s got you down?” you question, you can see him physically wince at the question. Brining the bottle to his lips again and taking a longer gulp, this time he coughs as he swallows the liquid. “Damn, must be bad”.
Your dumfounded, was this chick stupid? She gets John B and runs back to her Douch bag ex? He looked like a foot compared to him.
“She hooked up with Topper”.
“Well shit” You sigh, grabbing the bottle from John B and take another swig. You walk over to the bed and sit crossed leg in the middle. “I have no words to give you friend”.
You really had no words, well you had words, but they were cruel and no doubt he didn’t want to hear about how Sarah was stupid and that you would gladly take him back.
“I don’t want to talk about it, just want to forget” he says, he joins you on the bed. Sitting crossed legged in front of you, reaching his hand out for the bottle. You pass him the glass and watch as he takes a swig, mentally slapping yourself for thirsting over your ex-boyfriend.
“Alright, well want to tell me about the deserted island?” You ask, he shakes his head though. Looking up to meet your eyes, that’s when you catch onto what he wants.
He’s moving himself from his crossed leg position and you find yourself untangling your legs and letting him crawl between them. “Can I kiss you?”.
“Thought you’d never ask”.
You let his lips touch yours, it’s soft and sweet like how it used to be. You don’t want to be like how it used to be, you know that’s exactly how he is with Sarah. So, you grip him by the shirt and flip the both of you over. Moving your legs to straddle him, you put more urgency into your kiss.
You tongue being the one to gain dominance, he let’s you grind yourself on him. Hands running up the length of your thighs until they sat on your hips, guiding you to dry hump against his board shorts. He was shamefully already hard.
“Shit-t when did you get this feisty” John B groans, you bite down on his lower lip pulling it slightly. Your vixen eyes stare up at him through your lashes, you pressed kisses down his jaw, using the palm of your hand to push the side of his face into the mattress and attacking his neck.
You had gotten rather adventurous in the bedroom since things ended with John B, not that they weren’t fun when you where together but now you dominated, and you made the men beg.
“Can I take this off” You mumbled against his skin, your fingers twisting at the buttons his t-shirt. He gives you a grunt of approval, you tear his shirt off and kiss down his chest. Letting your hands wonder over his toned stomach, flashes of old memories pop up in the back of your mind.
“How far do you want to go John B?” You question, your fingers on the waistband of his shorts. You wanted him to fuck you, wanted him to use you to forget her.
John B sit’s up and for a moment you panic he is going to change his mind, instead he grabs the material of your shirt and rips it over your head. His hands pressed against your spine, pulling you close to him. His mouth enveloping your nipple, tugging, and sucking.
You bite back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. “I want to be buried deep inside of you” He moans, jutting his up against you. Accidentally letting out a loud whimper, you can feel his lips smirk against your skin.
You push him back down roughly, reaching down between you again and you reach inside his shorts. Wrapping your hand around his length, he sucks in a deep breath presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. You were dripping from his reaction.
You sat to the side of him, pulling his pants down and let him kick them off his ankles. You spread his legs so you could sit between them, holding firmly onto his throbbing cock. He looked down at you, begging you with his chocolate eyes.
“What do you want me to do John B” you purred, you got down to the level of his red tip. Leaving a soft chaste kiss before pulling away, you could see his stomach muscles clenching as he fought the urge to rock his hips up into your face. “Please Y/N”.
“Hmm? What was that?” You questioned, moving your hand softly against his shaft. Giving him just enough friction to edge him on but not enough to stop him from begging. “Y/N, put my cock in your mouth” he demands.
You’re squeezing your thighs together at his bluntness, not used to being told what to do from him. You open your mouth and take him in, you had been working on your deep throating. You were much better then when you had been together. “Holy sh-itt” he gasps, gripping onto the white bed sheets for dear life.
“Hmm” You gurgled around his cock, the vibrations of your mouth sending him into a frenzy. Your nose brushing against his trimmed pubic hair, sliding your hand under you begin to massage his balls, he lets out a strangled moan.
His chest is heaving, and his arms shake as he grips the sheets, you’re watching his face up through your lashes. He finally looks down at you, in that moment you know you have him hooked. He reaches down and grips your hair, rutting his hips up against your face.
You gag slightly from the roughness and your spit begins to drip around his cock, you can feel him twitching inside of your mouth. He is pulling your off him, his cock leaving your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Sit on my face now”.
You reach down and quickly strip your shorts and panties off, leaving your bare in front of him for the first time in months. “Face down here, ass up here” John B states, he signals for you to do 69. You nod your head and reach over his body, before you can even set yourself up, he reaches around your thighs and bring you down onto his face.
His tongue brushing through your folds, you let out a pornographic moan when the tip of his tongue presses against your bundle of nerves. You weren’t going to let him get his dominance back, instead you pushed your mouth down onto his cock again.
Sucking and swivelling your tongue against him faster than you thought was humanly possible, fingers caressing his balls once more.  He licked and sucked like it was his last meal, pushing two of his fingers inside of you. The vibrations from both your moans had you both tipping over the edge and coming, his warm seed hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed quickly as you came down from your high, your juice coated his face.
You were shocked when he licked his lips, something he had not done before. Before you could even think more into that, he was flipping you onto the bed and leaning over you, His lips on your again, fingers laced around your throat, giving you a soft squeeze.
You stared at each other while you kissed, both your tongue battling for dominance. You used all your strength to push on his chest until you were back on top, straddling him once again. “Buckle up big boy” You whispered, giving him a kiss on the chest.
You reach down between you and grasp his cock, looking up at him for approval he grabs your hips and pushes you down instead of giving you an answer. You moan in sync; your nails dig sharply into his stomach. You begin to rock your hips slowly, enticing him with the cushion of your walls.
He reached up to massage your tits that were squeezed together by your arms, your head thrown back as you road him. His fingers where suddenly around your throat and pulling your down to look at him. “Fuck, seriously how are you so good at this” he moans, his eyes boring into yours.
“Practice honey” You purred, moving your hips a bit rougher. Your ass bouncing against his thighs, you reached down and gripped his throat as well. Giving him a harsher squeeze then what he was doing to you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in delight.
Who would have known John B would like to be chocked out you thought, you let out a soft snicker and his eyes pinged open. “You’re the devil” He states, he wraps his arm around your waist and begins to slide the both of you off the bed.
Walking over towards the seat that ran along the windows that had a view of under the water, fishes looking upon your naked sweaty bodies. He pressed you against the glass, pushing in and out of you at an ungodly speed. Biting down on the skin of your neck, pulling your hand away from his chest he puts your arms above your head and presses them against the window. Your chest and his pressing against each other.
“Harder John B, show me how angry you are” You moan, using your hips to grind into him. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and grips your waist, his speed intensifying. The sound of your wet skins filled the room, the boat felt as though it was swaying.
“Come on John B” You were pushing off him now, pushing him towards the end of the bed. He sat up as you sat back down on him, he wrapped him arms around your waist and let you take control, he was so close to coming, he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting.
“Come on baby, show me what you got” You whispered. Gripping his throat for a second time tonight, pressing your lips to his. Tongues and spit exchanging, both your hips moving in sync as you met each other in the middle, your clit rubbing against his stomach each time. “Yeah, just like that” You cried, dropping your head back and holding onto his shoulders.
He watched your skin glisten with sweat, your perfect perky breasts bouncing with each thrust. He was in another world; he couldn’t hold on anymore. “Y/N” he started, but you squeezed around his throat again to shut him up. “I’m gonna c-”
He didn’t get a chance to warn you as you came first, loud, and fast. Walls squeezing and fluttering around him, causing him to let go and cum inside of you. Both of you moaning and crying out in pleasure, your fingers still wrapped around his throat.
When you finally both caught your breaths and vision, you slid off him. “Well shit John B” you laughed, you began gathering up your clothes, searching for your panties. “More like well shit Y/N, your fiesty” he says, he however doesn’t reach for his clothes and watched you intently.
You turn your head to the door when you hear voices and the door rattles, head snapping back to John B who begins to rush around.
“I told you he would be her--” JJ begins, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees the both of you trying to get dressed quickly, eyes giving you a once over before offering you a wave. You give him a quick wave as he ushers everyone back and closes the door.
“In my fucking boat, John B?” You hear Sarah scream; you give him an apologetic smile and make your way to the door. Pulling it open, Sarah’s eyes meet yours and her eyes widen when she realises, he went to you not some random touron.
“Next time, try this in bed, he Loves it” You purred, wrapping your fingers around her delicate throat. You expect her to grab your arm, but she is too shocked to speak.
giving her a wink before walking away from the group, all eyes on you. You get a sudden rush of euphoria knowing you just fucked her boyfriend on her boat.
Part two
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