#but you guys keep coming back for more so i must be doing something right đ
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Stained: The Dinner Party
summary: you made Negan a promise and now it's time to deliver... if you can get some time alone with him
word count: 9.5k
tags: ! NSFW ! dad's best friend trope, pre-apocalypse, cheating, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facials, swearing & crude language, vaginal fingering, degrading names (slut, whore), semi-public kinda public secret sexual acts in front of others? Idk how to word that one but you get the gist
you can find part 1 here!!
âHey everybody, welcome back to my channel! Here are my top tips for giving some gluck gluck before you fuck fuck!â.
You canât believe youâve reached this point and yet here you are. âShit,â you mutter to yourself, turning down the volume on your phone. The last thing you need is for one of your parents to walk past and hear that introduction.
Itâs been a month. One long month since you had your romp with Negan. You were supposed to see him sooner, your parents having arranged another dinner, but the Smithâs had to cancel due to Negan having Summer exams and assessments to get through.Â
âOk, first tip for when youâre slobbering on some man meat. Just because your mouth is the main focus doesnât mean you canât use your hands too!â.
You let the video you found online play in the background as you try to tame your hair. You have one thing on your mind tonight. The last time you saw Negan, after he gave you a fucking of a lifetime, you made him a promise. The next one of your parentâs dinner parties that he attends, youâll suck him off. And damn right you plan on keeping that promise.
Pulling out your clothes, you dump your options on to the bed. You have to be strategic about this. Slutty but not too slutty. Modest but in a sexy secretary way, not like a nun.
âMake eye contact! And no, I donât mean with his third eye! Guys love it when you got their⌠yâknow⌠haha! âŚGod, I hope this doesnât get demonized but yâknow, their sausage in your mouth and you look up at themâ.
You cringe at the fake laughing the video is filled with. The only reason youâre watching this is to make sure you give Negan the best blowjob of his life. Where, youâre not sure yet. Under the table sounds hot but isnât practical. Dragging him to your bedroom is way too suspicious.Â
The video continues as you think.Â
âAnd donât forget, be enthusiastic! Take charge! Just because heâs the one getting off doesnât mean he needs to have complete control⌠although that can be fun too. Huh, maybe I should do a video on not gagging nextâ.
Your attention shifts to a long-sleeved top. It doesnât show much cleavage but itâs snug enough to stir the imagination. Pairing it with a skirt is non-negotiable. You already know a skirt is a must, especially if you want to give Negan easy access.
With a sigh, you reach over and turn off the video. Useless. The advice wasnât wrong but it wasnât the almighty best blowjob of his life material you were hoping for.
You glance at the outfit laid out on the bed. You slip them on, smoothing the fabric over your hips as you turn towards the mirror.
Not bad.
You had planned to try a few other looks, maybe something a little more casual in case this one didnât feel right. But before you can assemble the second outfit, a cacophony of voices creeps under your door.
Theyâre here.
You freeze for a second. The momentâs no longer theoretical. Neganâs in your house⌠and so is his wife. Your name rings out, your motherâs voice carrying it. âCome say hiâ she calls, her voice already in host mode. You take one last look in the mirror, fix a stray hair and open the door.Â
The hallway is buzzing with life. Negan stands near the entryway, his presence commanding but relaxed in that way only he can pull off. He barely glances your way, offering a polite nod before turning his attention back to your dad, whoâs already launching into something about cars.Â
Lucille, on the other hand, pulls you straight into a hug the second youâre within reach. âLook at you, gorgeous! All dolled up!â she says, bracelets clinking on her wrists. You manage a smile and hug her back, slightly overwhelmed.
Everyone starts moving deeper into the house, your dad talks Neganâs ear off and your mom is caught in a flurry of Lucilleâs questions about whatâs for dinner. Overlapping voices bounce off the walls. You try to hang back for a second but youâre forced to move along with the chaotic current.
And then you feel it. A hand brushes against your waist and gives a brief, deliberate squeeze. Itâs fleeting but you know itâs him.Â
The second Negan saw you, he knew the night was going to be trouble. That outfit didnât have him fooled. The way that top hugs you, the sway of your skirt. He barely let his eyes linger as youâre swept into the kitchen with the other ladies. Tonight, youâre a woman on a mission and damn if he didnât respect the hell out of that.
âHoney,â your mom blindly shoves a fistful of cutlery in your direction, not bothering to look up from her work on the kitchen counter. Even with the whole day to prepare, sheâs somehow behind schedule and only whipping up the batter for dessert now.
âHelp set the table,â she politely orders. You know thereâs no room for debate, taking the array of forks and blunt knives.
You donât mind helping out, especially when you see Negan and your dad in the dining room already. Where Lucille has wandered to, youâre unsure. Maybe the bathroom, or maybe she entered the kitchen a few moments after you left, barely missing each other. Itâs like thereâs a constant rotation in and out of each room. As if to prove your point, when you enter the dining room, you almost bump into your dad as he leaves.Â
You donât waste your opportunity, not knowing any many times youâll get to be alone with Negan tonight. âYour sweatshirt is inside my bedroom, by the door, in a bag,â you keep your voice low as you set the table âI can get it if youâd like to put it in your truckâ.
You figured heâd appreciate the gesture. Straight to helping sort this shit out. Not trying to get in his pants straight away or acting as if nothing happened. Simply being practical.Â
Negan gives a soft scoff but you canât quite tell if itâs amusement or annoyance. âThatâs all I get?â you almost melt as the smirk he gives you as he whispers âNo hi, how are you? Howâs your dick doing?â.
A mischievous smile plays at your lips. You shrug casually âWell, since you asked⌠how is it?â.
âMissing youâ Negan answers, not missing a beat.
You try to ignore the flutter in your stomach. âI havenât forgotten about my promise,â you mention, watching out of the corner of your eye as Negan rounds the table to you.
âNeither have Iâ he practically growls, crowding behind you. âThe other morning, I woke up with my dick about to explode just thinking about it,â he nuzzles against you, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
Despite needing to stay alert, your eyes slowly shut. You savor his scruff against your neck, making the sensitive skin tingle.
Negan isn't as aggressive as he was that night at the bar but he isnât very soft either. Itâs like he has a natural roughness to him, the way he kisses, the way he fucks. All of which you know a little too well.
Bringing your comfort to an end, you hear your mother laugh, probably at something Lucille is saying. Negan must know it too as his lips leave you.Â
âMy sweatshirt is in your room?â He repeats.
You nod immediately âIn a Target bag, yeahâ.
Negan moves away from you, back to his casual position at the other side of the table as you hurriedly finish setting the cutlery. He goes to speak again but before Negan can get a word out, your mother is bustling into the room with a hot bowl of mashed potatoes.
âNew recipe!â She announces to Lucille, who trails in after her. You try not to catch her eye.Â
âInstead of the usual spices, I tried being more adventurous with my potatoesâ Your mother rambles.Â
Lucille simply nods along, her eyes studying you instead. You barely said hi to her when she first got here, despite how friendly she was to you. All Lucille got was a smile she can only describe as pitiful and now you wonât even look at her.Â
She goes to examine Neganâs body language next but when Lucille turns, sheâs met with empty space. Like a ghost, heâs vanished.
âAnd I actually listened to the recipe this time and put honey in with the carrots!â Your mother prides herself on her skills âCarrots⌠oh shoot, the carrots!â. Much to your horror, your mother darts out of the room and back to the kitchen, leaving you and Lucille alone.
A beat of silence.Â
Another.Â
Itâs only when the silence stretches a little too long do you finally lift your eyes to meet hers. Sheâs smiling.
âI like your skirt,â she says, her voice soft and strangely warm. âI used to wear things like that all the time when I was your ageâ.Â
You offer a small shrug âThanks. Honestly, I kinda forgot I had itâ.
She lets out a light laugh, as if youâve both been part of some unspoken mischief. Well, maybe you both are but if Lucille found that out, you donât think sheâd be laughing.Â
âItâs a bold choice for daylight,â she says âI almost wore a dress that short today, but I came to my senses before stepping out the doorâ.
You're not sure whether to laugh with her or lob the nearest utensil across the table. Something about how she talks feels like both an invitation and insult.
âNegan liked it though,â she adds, her lips curling into a teasing smile that doesnât quite reach her eyes.
The comment lands too precisely. Itâs enough to make you wonder if Lucille knows or if everything she says now feels like an interrogation thanks to your own guilty conscience. You force a smile, lips pressed into a thin line and you offer a silent âthank youâ to the universe when your motherâs voice floats in from the kitchen, calling your name.
Lucilleâs smile lingers, soft and undisturbed, as you retreat. She doesnât so much as blink. The image must remain untouched: the perfect wife with the perfect life, part of a marriage that still radiates that golden glow of first love. At least, thatâs what she tells herself. Now, if only she could track down her damn husband to complete the illusion.
Lucille moves with practiced grace, her heels silent on the floor as she slips out of the dining room. She skirts the kitchen without a glance, already knowing if Negan were in there, sheâd have heard his laugh by now, booming and obnoxious as always when he's trying to charm someone. Either you or your mother. The uncertainty around which one makes her queasy.Â
The bathroom door hangs open. No voices float down the hall. No telltale murmur of sports stats or banter with your dad. Her brow twitches. Where the hell did he go? As she passes the front window, something outside catches her eye. A flash of movement. Bingo.
Negan shuts the car door with a thud, leaving the bag with his sweatshirt on the back seat. Thankfully, heâs already decided to grab the opportunity to have a cigarette while outside, giving himself the perfect alibi as Lucille steps out the front door.
âHeyâ she plainly says, walking down the porch steps.
âHey yourself,â Negan mutters, flicking his lighter to life. The cigarette catches and he takes a long drag, eyes half-lidded as if this were the most peaceful moment heâd had all day.
Lucille doesnât return the ease. âYou already need a smoke break?â.
Negan lets out a dry laugh that doesnât quite make it past his throat. âNope. Just figured Iâd come out here and take a shit on their lawnâ he answers sarcastically.
Lucille doesnât suppress any part of her reaction. The breath she exhales is sharp. Her arms fold across her chest, shoulders drawn tight. The eye roll is textbook. And none of it is subtle.
 âCan you not for, like⌠the two hours weâll be here? Thatâs all I askâ she snips back. She pauses for a moment, sniffs and then sighs âNow youâre going to stinkâ.
He shrugs, glancing toward the house with vague disinterest. âThe place already smells like someone cremated a vegetable patch. I doubt my cigaretteâs gonna make the top ten list of offencesâ.
Whatever fantasy Lucille has been holding onto, the white-picket fences and synchronized laughter, begins to waver and fray around the edges. Her lips press into a tight line.
âJust put it out and get back inside,â she says, already turning on her heels.
She doesnât wait for his reply. If she stays out here any longer, sheâll lose whatever thread of control she has left. The door swings shut behind her.
Negan watches the smoke curl up from his cigarette, then exhales a slow stream of it through his nose. The evening has already been a pain in the ass. Now, itâs worse. If he had been thinking about dragging you somewhere quiet before, that thoughtâs locked in now.
Guilt doesn't hit as hard when all he gets from his wife are barbed jabs and a cold shoulder. Maybe heâs not innocent either. He knows his jokes have a way of biting back but hell, lately it feels like even breathing wrong is a crime.
Theyâre fucked, really. Negan knows it and deep down and he assumes Lucille does too. But how can either one of them back out of the marriage now when theyâve sunken so much into it? A mortgage, a house, loans, debts. Damn, Negan really needs your sweet mouth around him now. The perfect distraction from the hole heâs dug himself.
You try not to be obvious as you look for Negan. Heâs not with your dad or in the dining room. You havenât seen Lucille either which gives you an odd feeling of dread, knowing theyâve both disappeared. But before you have to worry for long, your mother calls for everyone to get seated for dinner.Â
You settle into your seat, subtly ensuring the chair next to you remains vacant. You're not confident (or stupid) enough to give a Negan a handy while everyone is having dinner but a little touching here and there shouldnât hurt, right?
Even when your mother sits at one side of you, you still have some hope as Negan and Lucille enter. You donât let it interfere with your plans, the empty space on your other side holding your hope. His eyes meet yours and you feel like a tween going through puberty as you instantly smile. But thatâs when the free chair beside you scrapes against the floor.
Like a bewildered animal, your head snaps in that direction to see another smile. Lucille. Again.Â
⌠Great.
âThis seat taken?â she asks, already sitting down.
Like some sick nightmare, Negan has to sit in front of the two women in his life: you and his wife. He tries not to be awkward about it, selfishly not meeting your eyes as Lucille badgers you with questions.
"Got a boyfriend yet? Iâm sure thereâs a line of them after you,â she compliments âWhen I was your age, it was boys, parties, always out with friends. Life never slowed downâ.
She barely takes a breath before continuing.
âHave you thought about moving out? Getting your own place? I did it around your age, had a place with a few girlfriends. It was wild. Eventually it felt like home, like it was really mine. Maybe itâs time you tried that too. Not just yet, I guess, but hopefully soon, right?".
You spear a forkful of greens and chew with exaggerated focus, nodding along as if Lucilleâs barrage of personal questions hasnât just lit your cheeks on fire. Sure, because still living with your parents is something you want to be quizzed about!Â
Thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, Lucille moves the conversation on to your mother instead. âHow would you feel about it? Think you would get empty nest syndrome?â she asks.
Negan tries not to wince as he eavesdrops, pretending to listen to your dad shittalking his co-workers. People say Neganâs the brash and direct one but goddamn, he knows Lucille can come straight out with it sometimes.
He sees it happen, so slow and subtle, and yet the most obvious thing in the room. Your posture, once open and lively, now folding in on itself like a page being creased. The spark behind your eyes has dulled, replaced by that quiet look people wear when theyâre trying not to feel too much. Youâre retreating and something about it twists in his chest in a way he didnât expect.
Negan hates it. Hates that look on you. Hates that Lucilleâs running her mouth without a clue, and that heâs just sitting here, watching it happen.
Without thinking, he shifts in his seat and slides his foot across the floor under the table. Just a small nudge. A silent gesture. He hopes it lands gently against your ankle, enough to catch your attention without making a scene.Â
His way of saying âI see you, babyâ.
But the contact he makes isnât with your foot.Â
Across from him, Lucille doesnât say a word. Her smile doesn't change, and her tone stays light as she continues chatting with your mother. Negan feels the light pressure in return. A slow and smooth, gentle graze up the side of his calf. He exhales, just a little, the knot in his chest loosening.
In his mind, this is your way of answering him. A quiet âIâm okayâ.Â
He doesnât look at you directly. Just a small, sweeping glance. But what he sees only deepens that warmth: the way you're acting completely natural, your face still quiet but softer now, as if you feel it too.
Negan doesnât realize that itâs not your foot gently stroking his leg under the table. Nor does he see the barely there smile playing at the corners of Lucilleâs mouth as she continues her conversation, pretending nothing is happening. Her leg remains where it is, answering a call Negan isnât actually posing her.
Remaining completely oblivious, you chew mundanely on your food. You pray youâll get a chance alone with Negan, trying to come up with different excuses or scenarios that would allow it. Unable to help himself, Negan steals another glance your way. His gaze is gentle but full of something far too close to longing.
He doesnât even realize the softness in his expression, the unguarded affection carved into his features. Itâs the kind of look no one gives their wife after years of a marriage built more on duty than desire. Itâs the look of a man whoâs found something he thought was long gone. Hope. Lust. Yearning.
And Lucille sees it.
At first, sheâs still convinced the foot under the table means what she wants it to mean. Her leg lingers against his, her smile patient and waiting for him to respond. Anything. A smirk or a quick look her way to confirm the game she thinks theyâre playing. But when she follows the direction of his gaze and sees who itâs truly meant for, something shifts in her.
The realization comes slow. She watches the way Negan looks at you and her stomach turns. Thereâs no flirtation in his eyes when they land on you. No coyness. Just a quiet ache of something raw, real and undeniably not meant for her.
Her smile falters. Itâs small, almost imperceptible but itâs there. The first crack in the polished exterior. She blinks, refocuses on her plate, and subtly draws her leg back under the table, leaving a space between her and Negan where, for a brief moment, she thought something still lived.
Negan still hasnât noticed. His eyes going from you to the occasional nod and look in your fatherâs direction as he pretends to pay attention.Â
You only look up because the scrap of your fork against your plate feels too loud. The hum of overlapping conversations blurs into the background as your gaze lifts, landing on him. Negan. Goddamnit maybe dropping your fork and getting under the table wouldnât be such a bad idea.Â
At this point, any apprehension you felt about sucking him off is long gone. Now you just want to unzip his pants and get it out.
The rest of dinner unfolds in a muted haze. Your mother and Lucille carry most of the conversation, chatting about mutual friends and upcoming functions, their voices a constant thread weaving through the meal.
Across the table, Negan and your father exchange low, obligatory small talk. Work, sports, something about the grill. You mostly keep to yourself, quietly eating while nodding politely whenever your mother or Lucille pulls you into the flow of conversation.
After the plates are clean of any food, the table begins to empty. Your father claps Negan on the back and steers him toward the living room, already launching into some half-hearted commentary about the game thatâs on. Negan goes with him, disappearing into the living room as your dad shuts the door.
Your mother, ever the hostess, is already stacking plates, humming to herself as she bustles into the kitchen. You follow with a handful of glasses and Lucille trails behind, offering to help put things away. You nod along, moving through the motions of cleanup while the conversation floats around you.
But youâre not done yet. You still have a dick appointment youâre determined to get to. You catch a moment and begin to meander towards the hall when your mother notices your slow edging towards the door.Â
âHoney? Where are you off to?â she questions but thankfully doesnât give you enough time to answer, already continuing the conversation on her own âJust leave the boys alone, ok? You know what theyâre like when it comes to sportâ.
She turns to Lucille, having already lost interest in you. âThey act like theyâre in their own personal conclave! And I donât mind it, it gives us some peace and quiet but do they always have to hog the tv?â.
You slip out before Lucille replies to her. Unfortunately, you know your mother is right. Going into the men while theyâre in sports mode wonât achieve anything. Actually, all that will do is make you more horny since youâll be in his presence again. So instead, you haunt the hall, hovering so youâll hear any movement. Maybe then you can coax him into your room.
In the living room, your father leans back into the couch with a low grunt, beer in hand, eyes on the muted game on the television. Negan sits beside him, feigning interest. His gaze drifts towards the door. Negan can feel himself getting antsy but he knows he has a role to play.
âJesus, you see that throw?â he commentates on the game, chuckling âKidâs got an arm like a rocket launcher but that defense makes me think he has shit for brainsâ.
Your dad laughs, and the two keep the steady rhythm of back-and-forth, Negan tossing in his usual sarcastic jabs and colourful commentary.Â
But every few minutes, his eyes stray toward the door again. Negan knows he needs to see you, to feel you. Being as casual as possible, he stands with a stretch.Â
âAlright,â Negan says âThink Iâll go see what the ladies are up to, ask how long âtil dessertâs readyâ. Your dad waves him off, paying more attention to the game than Negan slipping out.
When Negan goes out to the quiet hallway, he breathes a silent sigh of relief. He needs a moment to slip away, to ease the itch under his skin with a quick smoke and silence. Laughter can be heard behind the closed kitchen door. Itâs the kind of sound that should feel warm but only makes him feel out of place.
He slides a hand into his pocket, fingertips brushing the worn edge of his lighter when he hears you.
âHi,â is all you say, almost shyly.
Thatâs already enough to make Negan want to scoff. Youâre a lot of things but as you displayed the last time he saw you, you ainât shy.Â
âTonightâs not really going how I expectedâ you admit.
Negan assesses you carefully. âSo you werenât expecting dinner and a headache?â he says, voice low and a little rough. He doesnât have to glance toward the kitchen for you to catch his meaning. The nattering, the laughter, neither wife has let up.
You shrug, the slow curl of your shoulder borders on playful. âI mean, I was expecting a headache,â you murmur âjust not from themâ.
A faint ghost of a smirk graces his face. âNot exactly the easiest place for a⌠quiet moment,â he mutters.Â
You huff a soft laugh through your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. âA few minutes of privacy is all weâd needâ you reply in a teasing tone.
That brings out his smirk unapologetically. âJust a few minutes? Someoneâs confident in their abilitiesâ Negan muses.Â
A few minutes. It doesnât sound like a big ask but apparently it is. With your dad planted on the couch and the kitchen full of wine-soaked commentary and stories that wonât end, every chance keeps slipping through your fingers.
You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting someone to call your name. Instead, you notice something at the end of the hallway.Â
The bathroom door cracked open.Â
You look back at Negan, a spark lighting behind your eyes. âWhat about in there?â you ask, tilting your head towards it. Your voice is just above a whisper now, conspiratorial.Â
His eyes follow your line of sight, then return to yours. For the first time all evening, it feels like maybe the night isnât a complete loss.
That glint in his eyes sharpens, like heâs been waiting for the green light that he didnât think would actually come. âYou serious?â he questions, already angling his body toward the door like gravityâs working in your favor now.
You donât answer, the flash of a promiscuous look being enough. Turning on your heels, you hear Negan already moving behind you, both of you making a b-line for the bathroom.Â
A hand brushes against your lower back to urge you forward, or maybe to steady himself from the thrill of it. A burst of laughter echoing from the kitchen makes you almost break into a run. Negan must feel the pump of adrenaline too as he nudges you along.Â
You slide inside first, turning quickly to pull him in behind you. He catches the handle just before it clicks too loud, easing it shut with the care of someone defusing a bomb. Then the lock turns with a soft yet satisfying snap.
Your heart flutters and you try to convince yourself itâs the adrenaline and not the nerves of giving a bad blowjob. But you donât let it deter you. This isnât the time to get hesitant and coy.
Like that video said, be enthusiastic! Time to put your money where your mouth is⌠well, put his dick where your mouth is actually.
Negan took charge the last time and so you do what you can to set yourself up as the one controlling things this time. Getting down on your knees, your hands latch on to his belt as you look up at him.
âIâve been waiting for my dessert,â you purr, slowly tracing a hand down to his bulge.Â
Negan sucks in through his teeth, back hitting off the wall. He can see youâre eager, thatâs for sure. And so he keeps his hands by his side, letting you have your fun first.Â
He groans at the pressure of your hand giving his bulge a small squeeze. âFuck meâŚâ he whispers, trying to compose himself already. With a deep breath, he asks âYou sure you wanna do this?â.
âI made a promise, didnât I?â You reply with a smile, slowly unbuckling his belt.
âFuck yeah you did,â he keeps his voice low, hands twitching to bury into your hair.
Popping open the button of his jeans, you tug down the zip. Thereâs a nervous excitement in your stomach as you unwrap your present, the tips from the horrendous video linger in the back of your mind.Â
Pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough, you free his stiffening cock. Negan can feel his lust dulling his inhibitions. All signs say to stop and yet he canât help himself growling out a command to you.
âSuckâ.
Slowly, you bring your mouth to the tip. You remember to use your hands, holding the base as you lick the smooth head. "Sweet Jesus..." he hisses through clenched teeth, watching as your tongue teases the sensitive tip.Â
"Baby," Negan groans, hips shifting forward slightly "Less teasing, more sucking. Time's a-tickin'.â
As much as he loves this, he knows your time together is limited. His hands canât help themselves anymore, going to your hair as if thereâs a magnetic pull.Â
You take the tip and just a bit more into your mouth. You suck gently, applying light pressure as you pull back, letting the head slip out of your mouth with an audible pop. You repeat this motion slowly, taking as much as you can into your mouth.
Negan watches as you try to take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck. He's too big for you to deepthroat but he loves how your lips stretch around him.
When you tighten your grip, wrapping your hands around what you canât get into your mouth as you bob your head up and down, Negan thinks you might suck whatever measly soul he has straight out of his dick.
His eyes roll back slightly, enjoying the sight of you working him. "That's it," he encourages, hips instinctively moving in sync with your mouth "just like that". He groans, his hand guiding your head gently. You gag, more of him having gone into you than you anticipated. With a slight splutter, you pull back and breathe.Â
âSorryâ you quickly wipe away some spit threatening to dribble out of your mouth. "Shh, it's okay," he whispers "but fuck sweetheart, I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you keep doing thatâ.Â
You give a smirk, regaining your breathing. Holding his cock, you lick up the underside, feeling Neganâs hands tighten in your hair.
âBut you promised me a facialâ you pretend to pout before focusing on sucking the tip again.
"Fuck I know..." He watches hungrily as you suck the head, his balls tightening. His grip in your hair starts to guide you faster as he yearns to cum and paint that pretty face of yours.
"Suck harder, I know you can⌠whereâs the fuckinâ slut from before gone, eh?" Negan pants, that degrading man you met at the bar starting to come out.
You give a small moan, staring up at him. His cock goes further back your throat again but this time you try not to gag, concentrating on sucking him off.Â
Youâre a walking contradiction and Negan loves it. Big innocent eyes looking up at him, but with the eager mouth of a whore that just got a hundred bucks.
"You look like you should be on your knees taking communion, not sucking dick,â his voice drops an octave, watching your lips stretch around him "Choke on it?".
You blink for a moment, tears almost running down your face as you take in his request. Going as far down as you can, his cock fills your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You feel your throat convulse but you hold position.Â
A strangled noise leaves you but it only makes his dick throb. âYâcould be a world class slut, you know that?â With lust taking over, Neganâs hands pull your head down further.Â
Drool pools in your mouth, overflowing down your chin. Despite your brain hardly functioning, you gently cup his balls with your hands, trying to do as much as possible for him. Holding position for a few seconds, you pull back, spit following you as you catch your breath again.Â
"Youâre killing me..." Negan groans as you pull back, letting you catch your breath before diving back in. His hands guide your head, setting a pace that's fast but shallow.
"Keep looking up at me like that,â he orders âwanna see you take itâ.
As you concentrate not gagging, you can feel the wet warmth between your own legs building. Each shallow thrust of his hips, each taste of pre-cum, makes your core ache with desire. Your panties become damp as your arousal grows and you can't help but press your thighs together.
"Fucking beautiful," he says, his voice thick with lust. Itâs like Negan canât decide what he wants. One moment heâs pushing your head further down his dick but the next heâs pulling your head back so he can see your tear-streaked face better. You donât mind though, trying to catch a breath whenever you can.
You donât hear every word he says, the noises coming from your own mouth distracting you. " âŚpathetic slut..." you hear him say, before he corrects himself â... my pathetic slutâ.
The words only encourage you. Your hands work in tandem with your mouth, knowing you canât possibly have much more time with him alone. Surely someone will come looking for one of you soon. Or someone will need to use the bathroom.
He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing your head down harder onto his dick âOpen your fucking mouth widerâ. You try to do so but you gag around him.
"Take it, baby, I know you can" he growls, pushing your head down further despite your gagging. His hips start moving, fucking your mouth roughly. Each thrust resonates through your entire body. Thankfully, your gagging eases but you can still feel your reflex attempt to trigger with each thrust of his dick.
"Shit..." Negan sees the mess heâs making of you. The spit. The tears that naturally come with gagging so much. And he can only fantasize about the mess in your panties.
Pulling your head back sharply, his length slaps against your cheek. You give a small whine as he does, having little time to process whatâs happening as you follow his orders.
"Open," He grunts, fisting his length tightly âWanna see how much I get inâ.
Your mouth stays open, tongue out and ready to catch his cum. You donât have to wait long until you feel the ropes of warm cum landing, but not just on your tongue. Negan paints your face.
Cheeks. Nose. Chin. Lips.
âThatâs itâ He approves, giving a few final strokes before squeezing out the last drops onto your tongue.
You donât need a mirror to know you look a mess and the laugh Negan letâs out seems to confirm your thoughts. "You look like a damn porno" he says.
Letting go of your hair, he brings a hand around to your face, spreading the cum by your mouth around your lips. You take the opportunity to suck his thumb, licking the cum off and swallowing all he had given you.
You let it go with a small pop, mimicking the same treatment his dick got. âWas it good?â You ask, your hoarse voice surprising you.
"Was it good?" He repeats, chuckling deeply as he stuffs his softening dick back into his pants. "You're fucking kidding me, right? Look at you. You're a goddamn messâ He gestures to your cum-covered face, a smug grin on his face.Â
You're unsure whether or not that answers your question, or if any of it is a good thing. Negan sees the cogs turning in your head. âYou took that like a pro, sweetheart" he assures you, gently helping you up onto your feet.
Not done teasing yet, you gather other spurts of cum from your cheeks and lick that off your fingers next.
âThanksâ you shrug, playing off how relieved you are.Â
Negan grins widely, impressed by your dedication. âYouâre a fuckinâ keeper, you know that?â He drawls, reaching a hand out to ruffle your already messed up hair. Itâs strange to feel such a platonic action after heâs just fucked your face but thatâs who Negan is, you suppose.Â
One minute youâre being chastised for wearing provocative clothing. The next, Negan is tearing your dress off in a public bathroom. One minute youâre slut or whore, the next youâre âsweetheartâ again.Â
The only constant so far is bathrooms. That makes you pause for a moment before saying âWe have to stop doing this by a toilet. Itâs weirdâ.
He barks out a laugh at that, quickly covering his mouth. Negan waits a moment, waiting for someone to come see whatâs going on. But when no one interrupts, he continues âYou stay at, uh⌠whatâs that friend of yours name again? The one you lied to your folks about being with the last time?â.
âLydia,â you answer, turning on the sink tap. Catching a look of yourself, youâre surprised you donât look half bad. Maybe stained looks good on you.Â
âRight, you sleep over at hers often?â He asks, taking his time as he buckles his belt.
You carefully splash some on your face âI guess, yeah⌠why?â.
âSo if you told them you were staying at hers some night, theyâd believe it?â Negan asks âNo questions asked?â.
You nod, eyes meeting his and you try to manage your hair. The smirk says it all.
âHuh⌠all Iâd need to do is feed Lucille some shit and we could have a night away somewhere, finally get you alone without sneaking aroundâ.
Your body screams at the idea but you try not to show your excitement. âYouâd have to pay for the hotel room though,â you say snarkily âI think thatâs the least you could doâ.
He laughs again, lower this time. âCareful baby,â he gives you ass a firm smack as he passes for the door. The sting makes you jolt, half from the hit but half from the way heâs already slipping away.
You always knew your time with him came in fleeting, stolen slices. But that doesnât make it any less confusing. Or any easier.
âWait,â you blurt out, the word catching before itâs fully formed. Negan freezes, one hand resting on the lock. Slowly, he turns his head back to you.
âWhat about me?â you ask, voice quieter now. He doesnât answer straight away. Letting it linger for a moment, the anticipation builds.
Negan lets out a low whistle. âOh, sweetcheeks,â he drawls, voice dripping with that infuriating charm âYou know I wanna eat that pussy like itâs my last meal butâŚâ. He clicks his tongue, mock sympathy curling in his tone. âTime just ainât on our side, honey.â
And just like that, he slips out the door with maddening ease, leaving behind a whole lot of unfinished business. You let out a huff.
He called you a whore but at least they get paid. All you got for your efforts was a smack on the ass and a bare face, most of your make-up having washed away with his cum.Â
Negan knows your type, knows youâd probably jump him if he didnât leave the bathroom. One taste of dick and youâll be wet all day. The thought alone makes his dick throb again, already missing your mouth.
Going back into the sitting room, your dad is like a statue, in the same position as before. Negan gives a grimacing tight lipped smile, as if he got caught doing something he shouldnât.Â
Sitting back down on his spot on the couch, Negan apologizes âSorry if I smell like smokeâ.
Heâd rather your dad think he was having a cigarette outside rather than face fucking the manâs daughter. Your dad waves off Neganâs faux concern, mumbling the moments of the game he missed. Negan sinks into the couch comfortably, knowing that as long as you donât make it obvious, youâve both gotten away with another escapade.Â
Still in the bathroom, cool water runs over your wrists as you try to bring your heart rate back down. You smooth a hand down your top but thankfully everything looks fine. Small mercies thereâs not drops of Negan splattered all over your outfit.
The click of the doorknob spins your stomach before your brain can catch up. The door swings open and your mother steps in, mid-sentence on about wine refills when he sees you.
âJesus!â she yelps, hand flying to her chest âYou scared me half to death!â.
You whip around, just as startled. âSorry! Iâsorry, I mustnât have locked itâ you blabber.
She narrows her gaze, scanning your face like she's the Terminator instead of your mother. Subtle, trained and looking for anything out of the ordinary.
âYou okay?â she asks.
You nod quickly. âYeah, I just needed a minute. Iâm feeling a little weirdâ You gesture vaguely toward the sink as if it can be your alibi.Â
She frowns, but not suspiciously. You thank whatever higher power there is when her tone seems more concerned. âYou feeling sick?â she presses.
âNo, no. Iâm fine,â You say too fast before shrugging, deciding that maybe you shouldnât deny a good excuse âI mean, maybe, I just feel kinda strange yâknow?â.Â
She studies you for a moment longer. Youâre fully dressed, your hairâs in place, and nothing smells like guilt or sex. Just a hint of soap and whatever dignity you managed to salvage.
âWell,â she sighs, brushing past you to grab a hairpin from the vanity. âDonât lurk in here too long. I was about to serve dessert if youâre up for itâ.
You nod again, giving a sheepish smile you hope might look weak in a sickly way. âYeah, I think I can muster up having some cakeâ.
She gives you one last glance and then steps out, leaving the door open this time. Giving yourself a quick look, you silently tell yourself to keep it together.
Youâre glad to see how refreshed you look. Maybe slightly breathless. And looking sort of flustered. With your panties sticking to your pussy with how wet you are. But youâre still holding it together!Â
âŚBarely.
Squaring your shoulders, you walk out of the bathroom as if youâre going up to the frontlines of a war. Voices and clinking dishes subconsciously call for you from the dining room.
It feels a little weird to walk, your pussy practically dripping and making each step feel like another ride down the slip and slide between your legs. But you carry on nonetheless, ready to act as boring and normal as humanly possible.
The moment you round the corner, you spot an empty chair at the table and (more importantly) whoâs beside it. Negan sits back in his seat, fingers curled loosely around a can of soda.Â
Heâs laughing at something Lucille just said as she stands with a knife in hand. Whether heâs laughing because sheâs actually funny or heâs fearing for his life, you canât tell.Â
Even if Negan is a little affected by what happened five minutes ago, it doesnât show. Not in the way his mouth curves lazily around the rim of his can, or how he only glances your way without missing a beat.
You slide into the seat next to him, carefully letting your leg brush his under the table. Lucille gives you a slight look but you canât tell if itâs because you sat next to her husband or if you look more flushed than you initially thought. Well, if she wanted the seat, she shouldâve moved faster instead of just standing there. You snooze, you lose.
Your mother bustles in from the kitchen, wearing oven mitts and holding a tray that sends waves of warm sugariness through the room.
âHot out of the oven,â she announces proudly, placing the cake in the center of the table âChocolate, just like old timesâ.Â
Lucille lights up as she passes the knife, letting your mother do the honors. Once sheâs sat down across from you both, she starts to gush âGod, remember when you used to make this every weekend? Iâve been dreaming about this!â.
Your mom beams, already cutting thick slices while steam curls up from the soft centre. Your fatherâs voice calls faintly from the other room, a low rumble over the TV. âPass on dessert! Gameâs getting good!â. Typical.
Your mom rolls her eyes affectionately. âHeâs glued to that couch,â she mutters, placing a plate in front of you.
You thank her, then glance sidelong at Negan. He finally meets your eye. Just for a second. You get no smile. No words. Just that look. That quiet, smoldering acknowledgment of what no one else knows. You lower your gaze and pick up your fork.Â
The cake is warm and melts on Neganâs tongue. Still, itâs not the sweetest thing heâs wanted to taste tonight.
He chews like itâs delicious, nods appreciatively at your motherâs proud smile as she tells them about how she found the recipe somewhere. Negan isnât sure where though, he was too busy thinking about your pussy when your mom said that part of the story.Â
He doesnât look at you much. Negan knows itâs ridiculous but heâs sure Lucille can smell it off of him. The lies. Deception. Sheâs like a goddamn cadaver dog when she picks up the scent of something being awry.
Every now and then, he risks a glance your way, just to see the way your lips part around the fork in a way he knows all too well. He clears his throat and takes another sip of his drink, hoping the fizz will ground him. It doesnât.
As delusional as it sounds, Negan was hoping to fuck you again. Now he sees that was just a wet dream. You both had your moment in the sun, where you turned his world upside down and gagged around him like thereâs no tomorrow.Â
He shifts in his seat, trying to play it off his own dirty thoughts. He adds a lazy comment to the conversation, a dry âMmhmm,â and âYeah, tasteâs greatâ. Lucille nods along and Negan hopes heâs doing enough to convince her heâs listening.
But no matter how much he tries, his mind isnât on the cake. Itâs on the bathroom and on what he didnât get enough of.
Lucille dabs the corner of her mouth and launches into a story from years ago. Negan nods at the right moments, even chuckles once or twice. But under the table, his hand edges across to your soft thigh.
His fingers splay out and spread across your thigh possessively. You shove a piece of cake into your mouth to stop yourself from smirking. You may have it bad for Negan, but it certainly feels like he canât get enough of you either. Â
Trying to act natural, you slowly open your thighs under the table. Itâs difficult to look bored above the table, while below you're trying to angle your body in such a position that gives Negan access to everything.
His thumb draws circles on your inner thigh, inching closer to what he really wants. He keeps his focus on your mom, conversing normally as his hand inches dangerously close to your panties.
Nodding your head, you add âYeah, I remember hearing about thatâ. Although neither your mother or Lucille directly acknowledge your participation, already jumping to some other old memory.
Negan acknowledges you though, under the table. His middle finger nudges its way around your damp panties and smoothly slides down your folds. You eat your cake casually, lowering your head so neither woman will see the pleasure in your expression.Â
Like a man on a mission, the finger glides through your obvious wetness until it reaches your entrance. The finger teases your hole, pressing gently before slowly sliding inside. He enters you effortlessly, your wet pussy eagerly greeting him. His finger curls slightly, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.
Both of you look like the definition of calm, neither one of you letting on whatâs happening. Negan keeps his arm low, making sure all the action occurs below the table cloth so that the others canât tell his arm is angling towards you.
His finger moves with agonizing slowness, barely withdrawing before pushing back in deeper each time. He's not fingering you aggressively or quickly like he might if you were alone; instead, he's drawing out each stroke deliberately slow and shallow to torture you silently.
He snaps you out of your quiet tranquility with a compliment. "I have to say, this cake is fucking amazing,â he looks directly at your mother, a wide grin on his face as if he doesnât have his finger in her daughter.
She waves away his compliments before Lucille steals her attention âYouâll have to give me the recipeâ. It acts as the perfect distraction for Negan to add another finger inside you, stretching you out.Â
âAnyways, dinner has been great but we should really get going soonâ Lucille glances Neganâs way before showing off her sympathetic smile to your mom.
But your mom doesnât catch the smile. Instead, her eyes land on you. Breathless with your mouth slightly agape. And worst of all⌠hardly eating your slice of cake!
"Are you feeling okay?" she asks concernedly.
Neganâs movements stifle but just for a second as you come up with a reply âYeahâ I think Iâm just feeling a little flushedâ.
His finger suddenly shifts upwards, finding your swollen clit and applying pressure. You have to fight to keep your breathing steady as pleasure shoots through you. Your eyes flutter briefly closed before you regain composure, trying not to squirm visibly in your seat.Â
Your core tightens with impending release. With aching thighs, you do the one thing your body is begging you not to. You move your legs away from Negan and abruptly stand up, nearly knocking your chair back. The movement forces Neganâs hand to fall away, loosely dropping to his side. Your skirt whooshes slightly but it looks as though thatâs been caused by your abrupt movement and not Neganâs hand.Â
âActually, I think I might lay down for a while,â you announce, eyes darting to each person âI donât feel so goodâ.
Your mom simply nods, taking your excuse at face value. âOk, I can save you some cake for laterâ she assures. Her eyes follow you out, giving Negan the perfect opportunity to bring his hand up to the table.
His fingers are coated with your wetness but before the others can notice, he uses his hand to pick up his last piece of cake on his plate and pop it into his mouth. He deliberately licks each finger, letting out an exaggerated groan of approval as you leave.
That asshole. Surely he wasnât trying to make you cum. He knew youâd pull away in the end. That youâd be the one to disrupt your own pleasure. As if you had a choice.
Youâre only in your bedroom a few minutes when you hear the goodbyes begin.
âWeâll have to do this again soon!â.
âNext time, Iâll make brownies!â.
âJust make sure the next time itâs not on the same day as the game, ok?â.
Youâre not called to say goodbye. After all, youâre too âsickâ or âfaintâ or whatever excuse is most believable to your mother. With a huff, you flop on to your bed. Your panties are still sticking to you but now all you have is yourself to fix that problem. Rolling over on to your side, you mutter âFucking assholeâŚâ.
âšËââ§ââââââââââââââââ§âËâš
Lucille doesnât start talking until theyâre nearly home. Negan doesnât press her. He can feel the weight of whatever sheâs building up to and figures itâs only a matter of time before she lets it out.
âShe looks at you weirdâ.
Negan makes a low sound in his throat. Itâs not quite agreement, more like heâs trying to figure out where sheâs going with this. He silently hopes the next name she mentions is your mom but of course, itâs your name that leaves her lips.Â
âItâs like she just⌠watches. Everything. But especially youâ Lucille explains âYou havenât noticed that?â.
Negan raises an eyebrow. âSo sheâs the one doing all the watching but somehow youâre catching every second of it? Sounds like youâre doing a fair bit of eyeballing yourselfâ. He gives a short laugh, hoping to deflect her unease with a joke. It doesnât work. She responds with a scoff, all sharp edges.
âIâm being seriousâ.
âYeah and I am too,â he lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, eyes still on the road âso sheâs not a chatterbox. Whateverâ.
Lucille quietly stews for a few moments. Negan hopes heâs almost in the clear when he turns down onto their street, but peace is a fickle thing.
âI bet sheâs got a thing for you.â
He rolls his eyes instinctively. âNice to know you think Iâve still got universal appeal, honey,â he replies dryly as if it doesnât stroke his ego.
He pulls into their driveway. Their little house, slightly run-down but comfortably familiar, greets him with its tilted porch steps and overgrown lawn. Never has crooked suburbia looked so inviting.
He tries to use Lucilleâs next stewing period of silence to make his escape out of the car, swiftly turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.
âDo you know the last time I went to theirs, she came back from her friend's place wearing your sweatshirt,â Lucille watches his movements pause at that revelation. âWouldnât know how she got that, would you?â she questions.
Negan looks to her, tongue running along the backs of his teeth as he thinks.
âI gave it to her as a souvenir after I fucked her, is that what you want to hear?â he shoots back âJesus fucking Christ, Lucille, is this going to be it now? Is she the next woman I must be fucking?â.
Itâs shitty, he knows. But Negan also knows the best form of defense is attack. Or, at least itâs always worked out for him that way.
Lucille physically shudders at the idea of that, her voice raising as she argues back âWell, you were definitely eye-fucking her tonight at the table. Right in front of me!â.
Negan snorts. âBefore or after you tried to embarrass her in front of everyone?â his tone is sharper now âBecause what you call eye-fucking, I call trying to make sure she didnât burst into tears in the mashed potatoes.â
Negan hopes none of the neighbors are passing by. Even with the two of them still in the car, heâs sure anyone passing by would be able to hear their raised voices.
âYou really think I didnât just toss her that sweatshirt the last time they came over here for dinner? Maybe when I was showing her shit in the garage? That ever cross your mind?â His voice tightens as he adds, âOr was I fucking her in the back of the car then too, Lucille? You tell me since you apparently know everythingâ.
âYou're twisting my words!â She argues âAll Iâm saying is she obviously has the hots for you and you being friendly will give her the wrong ideaâ.
To Negan, this feels like a win. A messy, backhanded one but still a win nonetheless. Lucille has shifted from accusing him directly to blaming it all on you, like sheâs just trying to warn him of your supposed crush.
âFuck, itâs like I canât even talk to you anymore,â Lucille mutters, rubbing a hand down her face, not caring whether it smears her makeup.
âNot without accusing me of fucking somebodyâ Negan jabs back.Â
Thatâs enough for Lucille, undoing her seatbelt carelessly and kicking open the car door.
Ding!
Negan feels his balls tighten when his phone dings with a message. But if his balls are telling him one thing, itâs to lean into the mess.
âWant to check that?â Negan pulls his phone out of his pocket, waggling it as Lucille gets out of the car âCould be her, maybe sheâs sending me a nudeâ.
Lucille doesnât dignify that with a response. Just slams the car door hard enough to rattle the windows and throws a middle finger over her shoulder as she storms towards the house.
Negan watches her go, expression flat. He knows heâs going to be in the shitter for the night but when he opens up the notification, he thinks it might be worth it. There to greet him is a text he assumes must be you.
âGot number from dadâs phone. Book that hotel room asapâ.
#negan fanfiction#negan#twd negan#negan smith fanfiction#negan x reader#negan smith#negan twd#negan x you#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#jdm x reader#twd smut#twd x reader#twd fanfiction#twd fic#negan smith x you#negan smut#negan smith x female reader#negan the walking dead#negan smith smut
46 notes
¡
View notes
Note
ranked on how their kiss feels? (sorry)
no apologizing!! this is a fluff friendly blog!!
cuddles: like everything he does, his kisses are fast and a little bit rough, but full of passion and excitement.
giggles: queen of classic romance, her kisses look and feel like something straight out of a hallmark movie. most likely to smile while trying to kiss her partner
toothy: probably the gentlest kisser because he's had to learn to work around the teeth
petunia: she keeps her kisses short and simple, but they're remarkably pleasant all the same
handy: he has a tendency to lean into it and there's a non-zero probability that he'll overbalance the both of them and send him and his partner to the floor, but the kiss itself is a good balance between gentle and passionate
nutty: this man kisses with his whole body. it's rough and a bit extreme, and he'll DEFINITELY knock the both of them over, but there's no denying he's excited about it. he'll also follow up one kiss with a dozen more peppered all over his partner's face and neck (´-Ď-`)
sniffles: there's a very predictable pattern with him, where he starts off with a very gentle, plain kiss, and then about two seconds in he gets overwhelmed with affection and leans in to deepen it. he does this every time and it's incredibly endearing
pop: nothing super remarkable about his, just a quick and gentle smooch
flaky: they always manage to catch their partner by surprise with the amount of energy they put into their kisses. they're fast, but they really grab on and lean in with it!
the mole: like everything else he does, his kisses are not super high energy, but he likes to draw them out. very soft, but he'll be there kissing his partner for a good couple minutes.
disco bear: if it's someone he really cares about, he's shockingly restrained about it, at least at first. he's the most likely to put a hand on his s/o's jaw, but other than that, he mostly lets them decide how intense they want that kiss to be, because he's afraid if he tries to take too much he'll scare them off. his kisses get more passionate as he gets more secure in the relationship.
russell: he kisses like he learned how to kiss from a 1950's etiquette book. it's not unpleasant by any means, but it's very clear that he doesn't do this that often
lifty: his kisses are casual, until they aren't. he'll start with a quick kiss, but if nothing stops him after the first one, he'll spend the next 45 minutes in a full makeout session, completely disregarding location or if people are nearby. most likely to bite his partner's lip (gently!)
shifty: very fond of dragging his s/o in by the shirt for a messy kiss. very likely to follow it up by kissing and biting at their neck if they don't stop him
mime: partial to quick, rapidfire kisses all over his partner's face. will smudge face paint everywhere if he isn't careful
lammy: the best way to describe her kisses is "cheerful". she's also very likely to smile while trying to kiss her s/o, and she's the most likely to start laughing from how happy she is to have someone special in her life
flippy: it always takes him a second to relax, but once he does, he completely melts into it and kisses his partner like it's the last thing he'll do. he takes their face in both of his hands and it's like he's trying to pour himself into them. it's very intense!
splendid: his kisses are as dramatic as he is. he's the most likely to turn a simple kiss into a full spin and dip moment if he isn't stopped from doing so
splendont: 50/50 on his kisses either being fast and rushed (he's a man on a mission), or lazy and drawn out (he just wants to enjoy it). either way, he's a lot gentler than any other time
#htf ranks#anonymous#hey. hey guys! do you want to know a fun fact about the mod (me)?#i am actually aroace and have very little romantic experience#all my romance headcanons are a shot in the dark and the ones involving petunia and splendont specifically tend to be a leetle bit projecty#but you guys keep coming back for more so i must be doing something right đ#by NO means am i saying to stop sending them though they're very cute#ranked by character#romance ranks#mod's favorites
8 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sorry i just. need to rant for a second
#cause dude the whole joost situation is SO fucking upsetting#he's mentioned over and over again how overwhelming this whole overnight success thing has been for him and to respect his boundaries#and instead of yk respecting his wishes âfansâ go and make things worse by constantly overstepping and being creepy and weird like hello???#like why can't we all just be normal and take a step back and enjoy things#these people are gonna end up driving him off the internet and i wouldn't blame him one bit#and the worst part is the people who should get the memo obviously don't (or refuse to) bc this isn't an isolated instance#like its been going on for a while now#idk man i just think about how hard it must be for him rn#one of the things that turned me into a joost fan (besides his music) was his personality#like i obviously dont know him on a personal basis#but from the little bits ive seen he comes across as a really genuine and sweet and kind dude#super thoughtful as well. like i just love the way he thinks and his take on things#like i remember watching his eurovision interviews and just thinking oh man this dude's a ray of sunshine LMFAO#also the literal definition of resilience like dude's been through so much stuff and hes always managed to come out on top despite of it#and thats something i really admire about him too. like the way he put it as not letting your traumas be just that#but also something that can drive you forward#but yeah dude's had more than enough like he deserves to be happy and have some peace and ppl keep ruining it for him and it makes me upset#like i actually slept like shit last night and woke up feeling terrible and i wonder if what went down yesterday w the whole live thing#has anything to do with it lmfao#and you may be like ok well youre taking it too personally and letting it affect you#and yeah maybe youre right LOL but i cant help it i care about the guy and i want him to be okay#he seems to have a really good support system though so i hope things blow over soon and he can finally have some peace#anyway. rant over! đ#raquel speaks
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Clubbing with Roommate!Suguru is⌠painful. For him.
Heâs not a clubbing guy. Never has been. It's all too loud, sweaty, and far too many hands that grab without asking. Heâd rather stay home, finish folding laundry, maybe light a nice candle, and pretend heâs the kind of man who doesn't ache every time his roommate walks into the room with that sweet little smile.
But when you asked, tilting your head, lashes batting, biting your pretty glossy lips, he said âsureâ before he could think better of it.
Itâs not that he doesnât trust you. He does. He just doesnât trust every other scumbag in that club. Especially not with you. Not with your too-short dress, or how you keep turning to beam up at him, all radiant and warm, grabbing his hand as if you both are something more.
And he knows that you don't know what it does to him.
He's been good. He has. Clean dishes. Rent on time. Never crosses the line, never watches you sleep when you're napping on the couch no matter how soft you look. Never touches you for longer than he should.
But you're making it so damn hard tonight.
Clinging to his arm when the crowd gets too tight. Throwing your head back laughing at something he didnât even say, then tucking yourself under his chin like a lover. Like this is normal.
He should go home.
He should let you have fun and stop being a possessive freak. But the moment he steps even an inch away, he watches a pair of hands start to inch toward you, and heâs behind you in seconds, hands curling around your waist like itâs his right. Pulling you back against him, grounding you.
âCareful, princess,â he murmurs into your ear, his voice low, controlled. âThis place eats girls like you alive.â
You just giggle, arm curling around the back of his neck like itâs a slow dance and not a crowded bar. You lick the sweat from the column of his throat, lips brushing warm skin, and he goes still.
Dead still.
Because he knows itâs the alcohol. Knows this isnât real. Knows youâre just tipsy and touchy and you do this to all your friends, right?
Right?
But itâs him youâre grinding on. Itâs him you keep pulling close, whispering all your secrets to. And itâs him you end up leaning on in the elevator, too tired to stand upright, blinking up at him with that soft, sleepy pout that ruins him.
âI donât wanna be single forever,â you mumble, voice thick, fingers curling into the front of his shirt like youâre afraid heâll slip away.
He swallows. Hard. Donât say it. Donât say it. Donât say -
âYouâd be such a good boyfriend, Suguru.â
His breath catches.
He doesnât answer. Just chuckles, low and strained, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as he cups your face. âAlright, pretty girl. Letâs get you to bed.â
It should end there.
But no. Of course not. Because youâre tugging at the hem of your dress with lazy fingers, swaying on your feet, and now he has to help you undress like some kind of saint. He must be some kind of idiot.
âHands up,â he says gently, not looking at your bare thighs as his shirt falls over your head. âOne foot at a time - whoa, okay. I got you.â
You catch yourself on his shoulders, giggling sleepily as your fingers curl against his broad shoulders. His throat is dry. His jaw tight.
He helps you into bed. Tucks you in. But you groan, turning your face into the pillow, then looking up at him, makeup smudged and eyes glassy.
âI hate makeup,â you whine.
He smiles, the expression soft and too fond for his own good. âThen come here. Sit pretty for me.â
You huff, but obey. Legs swinging over the side of the bed as he kneels between them, cotton pad in hand, wiping your cheeks with tender, practiced strokes.
âYouâre so bossy,â you mumble.
He laughs under his breath, eyes fixed on your lips.
âYouâre so pretty,â he says without thinking.
Your eyes flutter open. Looking up into his violet ones.
He stiffens.
âOkay,â he says quickly, flustered, âBedtime.â
You curl up on your side, breathing soft, face peaceful. But then you groan again, clutching your stomach.
ââŚFeel sick,â you whisper.
And thatâs all it takes. Heâs under the covers with you, just hovering. Just watching. Just making sure youâre okay.
Not because he loves you.
Not because heâs dying to touch you.
Just⌠for safety.
Heâll tell himself that again tomorrow.
When heâs doing the dishes. When your braâs still hanging off the bathroom door. When your sleepy voice whispers his name in the middle of the night and his heart damn near breaks.
Heâll remind himself: youâre just roommates.
And youâre making it so hard.
#TW: Drinking/Clubbing#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#geto suguru#Geto x reader#Suguru x reader#Geto Suguru x Reader#JJK x Reader#Suguru isn't safe from the yearning#Suguru geto x reader
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
DPxDC "Pick Me Up"
The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.
Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.
Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.
That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:
"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."
Joker sputters.
"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"
The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.
"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."
Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.
"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.
"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."
"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.
But none of them get to finish.
"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.
The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.
And that's not a guy.
The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.
Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.
Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, and?"
"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.
"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.
"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:
"I remember!"
Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"
The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."
Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.
"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.
"I hate you."
"Thanks," Danny grins.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#tim drake#batfam#batman#dani phantom#danielle phantom#eldritch danny#but he wont admit to it#cork prompts#i wrote this as a way to relax#theres zero plot to it#just danny being petty#and dani saying mildly concerning shit in camera#it was her first day in the new school#all in all it was a fairly okay first day
5K notes
¡
View notes
Note
could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333
thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k
You bend forward and breathe.Â
Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent.Â
Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. âY/N, do you need me to get someone?â he asks.Â
âHotch?â you ask.Â
âSure. Do you want to sit down?âÂ
Your mouth isnât calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. âIâm okay.âÂ
You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. âHey, come on,â he says, guiding you toward the office doors, âletâs find somewhere quieter.âÂ
Youâre three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands.Â
Your entire world just got rocked⌠you donât even know how to say it. You canât stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like heâs going to kiss her cheek. And sheâd just let him do it.Â
âWhat happened?âÂ
âThey were kissing.âÂ
Hotch looks down at you patiently. âWho?âÂ
âSpencer and JJ.â You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, âThey were so closeâŚâÂ
âAre you sure?âÂ
âNo⌠Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, heâŚâÂ
You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical youâd always expected to be above races through your head. Werenât you too much to lose?Â
âThey were too close,â you say more firmly.Â
âAlright,â Hotch says softly. Then, because heâs your friend, even if youâve thrust him into an awkward position. âI can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.âÂ
âThatâs not funny,â you say, because even if it were, itâs way too soon.Â
âIâm not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, Iâd⌠well, I wouldnât hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?âÂ
âYou think Iâm overreacting.âÂ
Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. âI honestly canât imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, thatâs all. Iâm not trying to mock you. Iâm not saying you canât be upset.âÂ
You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.
âThank you.âÂ
âYouâre welcome.â
âI think I can kill him.â
âI donât doubt it. Do you want to?âÂ
âDepends on what I saw,â you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open.Â
âWell⌠perhaps you canââ
âHey, what are you guys doing out here?â Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. âAngel, I need your help, urgently. JJâs earring got caught in my hair, Iâm pretty sure Iâm bald.âÂ
You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself.Â
âHey, are you okay?â he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. âWhatâs wrong? You look sick.â
âWhat did JJ do?â you ask.Â
âAngel?âÂ
He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. âAm I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.âÂ
He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath.Â
âIâm hideous,â Spencer surmises from your silence.Â
âI didnât really look.âÂ
Spencer looks at Hotch. âCan you tell me whatâs wrong? Please?âÂ
You send Hotch a look that says please, donât. Â
âI just felt a bit panicked,â you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.
âI brought her out here for some quiet,â Hotch says.Â
Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. âYou did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? Itâs accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.â His frown deepens. âUnless itâs not that. Are you worried about something?âÂ
You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm.Â
âWorried about your hairline,â you mumble.Â
Look, youâll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isnât easy.Â
If he were lying about the earring, youâd be able to tell. If heâd kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him.Â
âI can trust you to look after her?â Hotch asks.Â
âWhen canât you?â Spencer asks sincerely.Â
Footsteps. A door opening.Â
You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. âAre you okay? Really okay?âÂ
âCan you hug me?âÂ
âSure I can.â He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. âDo you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can justâ walk.â His hand spread wide over your shoulder. âYouâre shaking.âÂ
âI am?âÂ
âJust a littleâŚâÂ
You try your best to stand completely still.Â
âOh,â he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, âIâm sorry, I had no idea you werenât feeling okay today. But itâll be okay, I promise. I got you.âÂ
Itâs not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesnât make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer⌠he really wouldnât do anything to hurt you. You arenât at fault for thinking they were too close, but thereâs an explanation, and for now thatâs enough to make you feel better.Â
âHow much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?â you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. âDoes it hurt?âÂ
âNo, Iâm fine. Honestly Iâm more worried about you than my hair.âÂ
âCan I explain it to you later?âÂ
âYouâll sleep over?â he asks, lips thinning into a smile.Â
âYeah.âÂ
âWeâll talk about it later,â he says.Â
You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isnât offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness youâre assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Ddakji Man


summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.
pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh
"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"
You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.
Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"
You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.
"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."
You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to part ways with the others and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.
So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.
A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.
"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"
You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.
The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."
Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."
This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it."Â
Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."
"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"
You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"
This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."
When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"
"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"
You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.
The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.
And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#x fem!reader#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game the salesman#the salesman#squid game 2#squid game season 2#gong yoo#gong yoo x reader#the salesman x reader#the salesman x you#x you#fanfiction#squid game fanfic#fanfic#squid game netflix#gong ji cheol
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text

tangerine x fem!reader, fluff/comfort âĄ
-tangerine has this habit of crawling back to you.
cw; soft!tangerine, this man yearns and he's not ashamed of that, tangerine being a bit dramatic, exes to lovers (?), title is from do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, kissing many many times, my first time writing for him- please let me know what you think
wc; 1.5k
CRAWLIN' BACK TO YOU
It's not healthy to do this every night, is it?
No, because Tangerine doesn't know how to stop and it bothers him. It bothers him more than Lemon's insistent talks about Thomas the Tank Engine, so this is serious. He's a strong man, but- you sigh in content and he's glad to be witnessing this.
He really should stop watching you sleep.
You look peaceful like this. Happy, blissfully unconscious. Your pretty lips let out tiny breaths and he swears he will collapse. Something squeezes his poor heart. He wants to be closer, you look warm but are you really warm? He wants to drag his fingers on your skin, to touch you like he used to. Stained fingers, red with blood. He washed them before coming here, but it doesn't matter. He'll never be pure enough to touch you.
"Pretty girl," he whispers in the dark. You don't hear him. He gets encouraged by that.
He takes a hesitant step towards your bed.
"Look at you, sleeping so deep," Tangerine whispers again. "Always in peace when I'm not here, aren't you?"
Technically he is here, but you don't know that, and that's all he cares. He doesn't try to be a creep, he's just in love. He swears this is the only reason why he keeps coming back to his ex's apartment. He promises this is the only reason why he lies to his brother as he crawls back to you.
His fingers ache to reach out and touch you.
If he could be a better man, he'd be in your arms right now. He'd be kissing your collarbones and his rings would collide nicely with the soft fabric of your tank top. He's a coward, really. He's glad you're the only one who knows this side of him. It would be terrible for his job options otherwise.
You take another breath. Tangerine watches the softness of your cheeks move when you curl your lips in your sleep. You must be dreaming. He hopes you see him being good for you in your dream. Being the man he never could be in reality.
He really should stop using the keys you gave him months ago.
"I wish I could be-" he starts saying some stupid shit again. Oh, come on. He rolls his eyes at himself. "Pathetic. I'm being pathetic."
"You really are," you turn to your side. Fuck. Tangerine flinches.
"Wha- Fuck me-" he takes a step back. You were sleeping two seconds ago. He's shy all of a sudden as if he's not the man who keeps coming back to his ex after breaking up with her by saying 'you deserve better, love'.
You blink, looking so exhausted as you do that. Leaning on your elbows, you look up to him. His hair is messed up, his blue eyes are wide open. It's a good look on him. Objectively.
"You really did think I wasn't aware of you coming back here every night, didn't you?"
"Um- then why did you-"
"You really are being pathetic, Tangerine," you say. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
"No, of course not-"
"I know you still have the keys," you say. "I knew you'd use them at some point, you never offered to give them back."
Tangerine finally manages to close his mouth. Clever girl, aren't you? He feels poorly, now that he can't call you his.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asks.
You blink a few times. "I waited for you to say something first."
"Sorry to disappoint, love," he says, genuine this time. "I've been acting too cowardly around you."
You sigh, you really want to sleep. You wish he could just stop with this pity party and come to bed. Silent promises ring in your head, you want him back. He kept saying he's doing it for you, breaking up because he doesn't want you to get hurt. He swears even telling you what he does for living was the toughest shit he'd ever gone through. Who wants a guy like him anyway?
"Will you please- come here? Let's just talk about this in the morning, I'm so tired."
He blinks a few times. You have a death wish, don't you? Why the hell would you want him to get close if you don't?
"It's 'cause I know you still love me," you answer. Shit, he asked it out loud. "I know you're trying to make a stupid decision for both of us, still, but tonight I want none of that. Come here."
You pat the empty spot next to you and Tangerine obeys. He has no choice, his entire body feels like it's on fire with the distance between you. He takes off his suit jacket, lets himself be bare in front of you just like how you always want him. No unnecessary clothes in bed, you once said. I want to know you're here.
He lies next to you hesitantly. For a brave man, he's acting pretty fearful tonight. You wrap your arm around his chest, your fingers touch his skin as you draw a small circle right there.
Tangerine takes a breath. It's good, being here. He finally feels like he's where he belongs. You snuggle closer to him, always the bold one in the relationship. Many would expect it to be different, he knows, but he feels entirely yours and this is something he can't explain. He'd let you do anything you want, if you want to cuddle him, kiss him in public, or snuggle to his chest like a cat, so be it. He wraps an arm around you.
"Oh," he breathes. You smell wonderful. "My girl."
Fuck, he missed this. He melts right there, how can he be stupid enough to let you go? He turns to his side to hold you better, you put your head to the curve of his neck. His cologne hits you like an old memory, but that's nonsense. You never let him go.
"Missed this," he says. "Missed you."
"You're an idiot."
"That's what I am."
You tangle your legs with his, he kisses his way on your neck all the way to your shoulder. You close your eyes, let yourself be okay now that he's here. He can finally admit that he never left, he couldn't do that if he tried. He yearns for this, for every bit of affection he can have.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. He doesn't think he can wait until the morning to tell you this. You must know how sorry he is for even trying to go out of your life, how desperate he's been since the day he told you he wants to break up. How angry he made Lemon (even Lemon) because he's been a restless bastard and he doesn't even know what he's doing. "I'm so sorry."
You lift your head to see his eyes. Under the soft moonlight in your room, they sparkle. Just a deep blue, you've always loved his eyes. He's genuine and he's only a man. He looks like he can beg for forgiveness on his knees.
"It's okay," you say gently. No need for arguments, the bed is warm and he's here. You'll find the right time to talk about this. For now, though, you choose to put your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
Tangerine kisses your head. You like having shower before bed and he can smell your shampoo. He holds your hand under the covers and slides his hips to get closer to you. The pillows are soft and inviting beneath his head, he closes his eyes.
"Will you stay for breakfast?" you ask. He can stay forever if you want. Fuck, yearning turned him into a fucking romantic.
"Do you want me to stay?" he asks instead.
"Yes," you reply, getting closer to his pulse point. You put a small kiss on the tiny spot under his ear. He lets out a quiet hiss when you bite there playfully.
"Or maybe I should crawl back here with flowers in my hand," he says, adjusting his neck to give you more space to kiss. He can feel you smile against him.
"You really should," you tell him. "Later. Not tomorrow."
Your sound unsure. Hesitant with your loving as if he scared you. He did, though, didn't he? Tangerine is a man of sin and he really needs to atone for some of them.
"I'm not gonna leave," he promises. "Not again."
You nod, his loving girl. You could give him hell, but you're exhausted. He tightens his arm around you and lets you settle down on him.
Your breath is nice to feel against his neck. Tangerine relaxes. You fall asleep in the next minute or so, he isn't sure when. He just knows that this feels like home, and he'd been the biggest fool in the history for trying to leave it as if he actually could. He has to get you those flowers just as soon as he can.
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine x you#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine fic#tangerine fanfic#tangerine fanfiction#bullet train#bullet train fanfiction#tangerine imagine#bullet train fic#bullet train imagine#aaron taylor johnson
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
fuck the neighbors
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader
summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.
warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)
smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex
word count: 3.3k
reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair
Youâve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isnât even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when youâre around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately.Â
âFound you,â he whispers.Â
âI... wasnât hiding,â you say, your voice coming out in a squeak.Â
âYou know it isnât nice to lie,â he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. âIt also isnât nice to eavesdrop.â
âI didnât- I wasnât trying to,â you insist.Â
Wonwoo tsks. âI donât believe you. What did I just say about lying?â
âWell, it isnât nice to be super loud all the time either!â you scoff. âYou have neighbors, you know.â
The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him.Â
Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. âWhat are you talking about?â
âWhat do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I donât care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-â
Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. âThatâs what this is about? Thatâs why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?â
So you had been right... youâre not sure whether or not youâre happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that youâre offended that youâre being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short.Â
âYouâre bleeding,â is what you say instead.Â
Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you.Â
âCome with me.â
âWha- huh?â
âYou want to know whatâs so loud, right? So come on.â
You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. Youâre doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldnât do, but youâre dying to know whatâs been keeping you up at night.Â
Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes. He does the same.Â
The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.
The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. Itâs sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated.Â
Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.
âWhy am I here?â you ask when he doesnât offer an explanation.Â
He doesnât answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but heâd dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen.Â
Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost donât want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it.Â
He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly.Â
âWhat am I looking at?âÂ
âThis isnât my room,â he says.Â
âWhat?â
âItâs my roommateâs.â
âYou have a roommate?â
âI do. I have a roommate. Heâs the one you share a wall with. Heâs the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.â
Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwooâs roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didnât-
âSo take it up with him.â
You shake your head and purse your lips. âNo, that doesnât explain everything. Iâve heard your voice too. Unless youâre the one heâs banging...â you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.Â
âHeâs not my type,â Wonwoo says flatly.Â
âOkay, then what is it?â
âCâmere,â he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment.Â
In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.Â
âYou box?â
âItâs a hobby.â
âIs that why you were bleeding?â
âYeah, I just got back from the gym.â
âAnd thatâs what Iâve been hearing?â
âThatâs what youâve been hearing.â
You nod but donât say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesnât offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.
âWell, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?â you huff in annoyance.
He sighs like what youâre asking is the biggest inconvenience heâs ever been posed with but concedes.
 âI guess.â
âThank you.â
âYouâll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. Thatâs what I did.â
âOh, okay.â
Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You donât know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isnât giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either.Â
You donât have the time or energy to deal with this. You canât read the manâs mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwooâs voice echoing behind you.Â
âAre you disappointed?âÂ
You stop but donât turn around. âWhat?â
âAre you disappointed that it isnât me youâve been hearing?â he clarifies.Â
Heat rises to your cheeks. âWh-what do you mean? Why would I be?â
You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does.Â
âBecause it isnât my voice youâve been touching yourself to.â
âWhat?!â You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face.Â
âYou donât think I havenât noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?â
You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. âIf thatâs what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.â
âResentment and lust have a very long history together,â he whispers.Â
âYou think pretty highly of yourself, donât you?â
âBut Iâm right, arenât I?â
You feign ignorance. âAbout what?â
âAbout you.â He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. âTell me Iâm wrong,â he presses. âTell me youâve never gotten off to the thought of me and Iâll drop it.â
You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far heâd see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time.Â
You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwooâs mouth. So he did think highly of himself.Â
âI fucking knew it,â he murmurs.Â
Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment.Â
âIâm going to take a shower,â he announces.Â
You donât move from where youâre standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation?Â
Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. âAre you coming?âÂ
âHopefully,â you mutter.
âHm?â
âYeah, Iâm coming.â
-
The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you canât look away.Â
Wonwooâs kind enough to snap you out of it. âI didnât ask you in here just to watch me.â
âYou didnât ask me in here at all,â you point out, âyou just expected me to follow you.â
âAnd you did.â
Damn, he had you there.Â
With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that youâre also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.
âShy?â he muses. âCute.â
âShut up,â you sputter.
You donât think youâve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.
âI canât call you cute?â
âNot if youâre patronizing me.â
âHow do you want me to say it, then?â he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. âYou want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?â Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. âSpread your legs for me, baby,â he murmurs.Â
You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you wonât fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You donât want to give him the satisfaction, though youâre sure he already knows heâs got you right where he wants you. Â
Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like heâs trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins. Â
If this was his apology for all the noise, heâs forgiven ten times over.Â
You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance.Â
âIâve got you,â he assures you, backing you up into the sink. âHere, hop up on the counter.â
âWhat about the shower?â you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time.Â
âOh shit-â
Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall.Â
âNow, hop up on the counter.âÂ
âAre you sure?â you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it.Â
Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods.Â
âIâm sure. Mingyu wonât care, trust me. Heâd be a hypocrite to.âÂ
You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think heâs going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead.Â
âWhy are you pouting?â he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat.Â
âWant you to fuck me,â you lie.Â
Itâs not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isnât the full truth either. Youâre afraid that if youâre honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you itâll turn him off. Heâs not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?
âI was getting to that,â he insists lowly. âSo impatient.â
âYouâre the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You havenât even kissed me yet.âÂ
There. Maybe if you challenged him heâd give you what you wanted.Â
âOh, you want me to kiss you, huh?â
He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy.Â
He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isnât much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on.Â
He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it. Â
âYouâre sick,â Wonwoo scoffs.Â
âAnd youâre still hard.â
âTwo things can be true at the same time.â
He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back.Â
He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth.Â
âTell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,â he murmurs, âwhen youâre in your bed all alone listening through the wall?â
âI- itâs embarrassing...â you protest.Â
Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. âTell me or weâre done here.âÂ
Youâre not sure whether or not heâll make good on his threat but you donât want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share.Â
âI thought about... this,â you say hesitantly.Â
âThis? You thought about me fucking you here?â
âNo...â
âYouâre going to have to be more specific then, angel.â
âIt was, um, in your bed.â
âYou mean Mingyuâs bed.â
âI didnât know that at the time,â you whine.
He smiles. âI know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.â
âI was a little distracted at the time,â you whisper.
âYeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girlsâ positions?â
You nod reluctantly.Â
âPoor baby,â he pouts, âmustâve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?â
You hate that heâs right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more.Â
While heâs talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often?Â
He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him.Â
âReady?â he asks, holding your face with both hands.Â
Itâs probably the first earnest interaction youâve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.
âGo ahead.â
You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.  Â
âBreathe, baby, breathe. Youâre okay.â
You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him.Â
Wonwoo doesnât move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isnât easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. Heâs that huge.Â
You almost wish he wasnât just because you donât think itâs fair for any manâs ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose itâs fitting.Â
 After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles.Â
âDoes it feel as good as you thought it would?â he presses.Â
âB-better,â you admit.
âThatâs because it wasnât me you were hearing.â
You groan, annoyed that he still hasnât let it go. You doubt he ever will.Â
âItâs okay. Iâve thought about this too,â he confesses.
âYou have?â
âHave you seen yourself?â he scoffs, âDonât sound so surprised. Iâd s-see you in the hallways, see the way youâd glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We couldâve been doing this so much sooner.â
You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you canât find the words. Theyâve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like youâre in a trance.
âLouder,â he pleads as fucks you even faster.
âBut our neighbors-â
âFuck them,â he spits. âThey already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.â
Apparently you arenât the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically canât, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely.Â
âFuck, are you about to cum?â Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration.Â
You nod. âJust a little more,â you beg, âyeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-â Â
âIâve got you,â he assures you. âLet go, Iâm right there with you.â
Itâs surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he canât say anything else.Â
Once you come down, heâs the first to start putting you both back together.Â
âWanna actually take a shower now?â he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter.Â
Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwooâs quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet. Â
âTake your time,â he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you.Â
âThank you.â
âDo you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. Thereâs no way youâll make it all the way home.â
You raise an eyebrow at him. âAll the way next door?âÂ
âExactly! Itâs better not to risk it, right?â
You chuckle. âI guess.â
Wonwoo grins. âDonât worry, Iâll take you home myself in the morning. Iâm a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.â
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
#fuck the neighbors#seventeen smut#svt smut#wonwoo smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x female reader#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x female reader#jeon wonwoo smut#svt x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#flashing tw
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
⥠TW: stalking, yandere, anxiety, paranoia, isolation tactics
⥠GN reader
Youâre anxious. You probably shouldnât be, and you tell yourself that. Youâre being silly. Utterly silly. Itâs most likely just coincidencesâa string of oddities, enough to freak you out. And youâve always been too easily spooked.
You just happen to have the same situation and routine, is all. So what? You live in the same building, both of you grab coffee at the same cafe on your way to college, where you both happen to go, both of you get off at the same time despite having different classes, both of you go grocery shopping every Monday before coming home, and both of you do laundry down in the basement every Sunday before bed.
Itâs not such an original schedule, you tell yourself. Jeez, he's not stalking you! No. Itâs natural to buy everything at the start of the week and even more standard to do laundry at the end of it. Itâs normal! Totally normal!
Youâre just imagining the rest. The way he looks at you. Youâre just freaking out because itâs your first time living alone, out in the big world, all on your own. Heâs probably in the same shoes as you. New city, tiny apartment, big campus, long lectures, broke shit.Â
Yes! Thatâs why he offered to do laundry together. One washer, one coin, one dose of detergentâthatâs two for the price of one and half the price for both of you. Of course! That must have been itâand not any of the creepy things youâve suspected. Obviously, he isnât asking to do laundry together to steal your underwear like some freakâwhat are you even thinking!?
Youâre such a bad person. Itâs not like heâs done anything directly off-putting. Asking you over for dinner is a nice thing, after all. Again, it saves money and keeps you both company. Itâs lonely living alone, after all. Itâs not like you think itâs swell spending every evening with your nose in your textbook, just waiting for the school to plan a social gathering or something so that you can make some friends.Â
Youâre such a dumbass. Wanting to make friends, yet shunning the one friendly guy in your building just because heâs been a little too forward. Itâs not as if heâs asked you out or anything! Heâs just being nice! Youâre the one being weird! Thinking weird thingsâcondemning him of doing weird crimes he hasnât even done!
âHey, neighbor,â he says. Right on time, just like always. Doing his laundry at the same exact moment as you.
âOhâhey,â you greet back.
Itâs not weird, you have to remind yourself. Youâre here on time, arenât you? How come youâre allowed to be consecutive, but itâs suddenly weird when he is? How does that make sense? It doesnât. Youâre being paranoid.
Oh, but then he picks the empty washer right next to you, even though there are plenty of others to go around. No one else does their laundry at this hour.
Heâs being friendly, you tell yourself. Neighbourly. It would be awkward if he chose a washer at the other end of the room, wouldnât it? Yes. Yes, that would be awkward.
âDâyou do anything fun this weekend?â he asks as he empties his basin into the tub, pouring a cub of powdered detergent over itâthe same type you use.
Leaning against your machine, you watch him from out of the corner of your eye, trying to silence your inner thoughtsâat least enough to not let any of your unfounded suspiciousness leak into your voice. âMh-no, not really. I just studied. What about you?â
He turns the machine on, smiling lazily while saying, âNahâŚâ then turns around, mirroring your leaning stance, standing shoulder to shoulder. âThough I heard one of the frathouses had a partyâŚâ
He tilts his head down, looking at youâfriendly-faced, asking, âYou didnât go?â
You try to stop yourself, but you blanche despite the effort. Head hot, you fold your arms over your chest, hugging yourself a little.
There was a party? When? This weekend? How come⌠nobody told you?
You swallow, unable to look back at himâsuddenly feeling a little bit sick.Â
âUhm⌠no,â you say. âI didnât feel up to it...â
His eyes slim at your obvious lie, but you donât see itânow too wrapped up in your own embarrassment to pay attention.
His smile curls. Youâre an open book if there ever was one.
But you donât have to feel embarrassed. Of course, you didnât go to the party. You didnât even know there was one. And how could you? When he broke into your locker and took the invitationâjust as heâs done with all the other party fliers every single week.Â
âNot your thing?â he says, trying to hold back his glee.
You still donât look at himâtoo chagrinedâlooking like you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. âI guess soâŚâ
Oh, he could just lick that expression right off your cute little face.
âNot mine either,â he chuckles, rummaging through the bag at his hip, pulling out a book, and flashing the cover to you with a grin. âIâm more of a book club type of guy.â
You blink. Reading the title with big round eyes.
âHave you joined one yet?â
You look at him then, shaking your head, âOh, noâuhm, I couldnât decideâŚâ
He hands you the book. You receive it in both hands. Your fingers brushing each other.
âYou should join us then,â he offers. âYouâre gonna get burned out if all you read is textbooks, y'know?â
He watches your eyes widenâlooking like a peasant, beholding him as a saint whoâs just offered you shelter from the storm.
âThank you...â
⥠BNHA â Deku, Shinso ⥠JJK â Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta ⥠HQ â Sugawara, Kuro ⥠CSM â Aki, Yoshida ⥠AOT â Armin ⥠DS â Tomioka, Tanjiro, Zenitsu ⥠HxH â Kurapika, Leorio ⥠WB â Suo, Togame
⥠FEM x M INSERT masterlist ⥠GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere insert#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
yelena: why are you lying on the floor?
you: didn't know it was 'interogate (name) on a shit day' day
ava: that's not what she's trying to do, we haven't seen you all day since you've been cooped up in here.
you: maybe i want to be by myself, left alone and not being bothered.
john: negative, no can do, besides how long have you been lying there for?
you: since yesterday...or was it the day before? i can't remeber becuase nothing matters and i shouldn't give a shit.
alexei: dorogoya, don't say such a thing.
you: but it's true, so unless you want to keep at this, then you should just leave. all of you.
bob: i'm afraid i can't do that, you've been alone with your thoughts too long. *he walks to lay down on the ground next to you, staring up at the ceiling* so i'm staying here until you feel like talking, or just feel like you've got someone to have your back.
yelena: hope you've got room for one more, i have nowhere to be ayntime soon, so why not keep my friend company and stave off those thoughts of yours.*she lies down on your other side, resting her head to your shoulder*
ava: we're a team and we shouldn't leave one out becuase they tell us to, because you tell us to, so you're stuck with us. *lies down next to Yelena*
john: *lies down by your feet, lifting them into his lap* so stop being stubborn and let us in. we're here for you whether you want it or not. we're here.
Alexei: *lies down next to Bob* you may not feel okay now dorogoya, you might not feel okay for a long while, but it's something we all must come to terms with in due time that we're not meant to feel put together. we're meant to have days where we are reminded that we as humans are extremely complex and some aspects of ourselves are hard to grasp, we're meant to somedays lie on the floor and feel our feelings but why not do so in the company of friends, of family.
you: *smiles* i love you guys, every single one of you stubborn bastards.
bob: *holds your hand tightly in his* we love you too, even if we don't say it, we show it.
yelena: so don't think we don't care, we do and we just show it really, really weirdly.
you: *laughs* i'm highly aware of that now and i wouldn't want to be paired with any other group of loosers then the loosers right here. my family.
#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#thunderbolts x reader#thunderbolts x you#thunderbolts x y/n#thunderbolts imagine#thunderbolts incorrect quotes#mcu imagine#mcu imagines#incorrect mcu quotes#mcu incorrect quotes#mcu x reader#marvel imagines#marvel x reader#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel quotes#marvel imagine#bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds imagines#bob reynolds imagine#ava starr imagines#ava starr imagine#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova imagines#robert reynolds imagine#john walker imagines#robert reynolds imagines#yelena belova x reader#ava starr x reader#sentry imagine
782 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A KNIGHT'S OATH

synposis. it has been many moons since you have lost your love, your knight. until one day he comes back, and shows you that he's here to stay.
cw. cunnilingus, p in v (stay safe girliepops), oral (reviving), lwk kinda angsty, oh knight caleb how i miss thee, hes a pretty chill guy, hi knightly caleb! here to save our hearts and - oh..
add ons. kinda sucked with this one sorry to let u guys down </3 hopefully u guys enjoy the smut still very plot heavy too ah.. i will fall in love with you over and over again also writing in like.. medieval times is LWKK HARD DONT GAG ME
wc. 3.9k

it was finally time to find a husband. you couldnât delay your mother any longer, a princess cannot go so long without being wed. it was something you didnât look forward to at all, something you wanted to hide away from. marriage. your heart felt heavy, and you curled into your bed.
you felt as if the world seemed crumble, any other soon - to - be child would be thrilled to get married. have children and rule an entire kingdom with one they shall call their husband for eternity, yet it didnât feel right. maybe it was because your mother was trying to get you wed to some prince in a well off kingdom, or how unhappy you would be in such marriage.
yet those were not the reasons you felt such sadness. your hands made their way to your head, and your eyes began to swell due to the mere thought of why you felt so upset, so alone, so empty.
you had missed your knight, your darling knight so dearly.
muffled cries came out of you, your face red and puffed. oh how you missed him, how you loathed him for leaving you alone in such a world. how could he do this to you? if it was any other lowly girl, he wouldnât have left in such a manner. without a trace â anything.
your heart was heavy remembering how your guard left. how one day, he was gone without a trace. how you had asked around your castle to hear the sighs of nearby guards or the scowls of your maids on how you should keep out of peasant business. a day where you realized fairly quickly, he was not to come back to your kingdom.
many moons have passed since this, many nights of sobbing in your chambers, waiting. waiting for a letter, a call, a man to come back into your arms to assure you that no matter what, he would never leave your side again, he was to not let you get hurt once more. "you will be alright, your highness." was what he would whisper to you before you hid away in your chambers from the world that asked so much of you.
you were naive, foolish. your mother should have you as her own personal jest for even believing that one day you were to marry the knight you fell so stupidly in love with. how could you let yourself get this silly? what witch had cursed your mind of the plague you called love? you must put yourself together. you are royalty, not a village girl. there are reputations you must uphold.
you sniffled, wiping your tears. no amount of sobs, pleads and cries will bring him back to you. no matter how much you beg to the gods above, to the stars and heavens, he was to not see you again. you had to accept this, move on. you were to be queen, and queens do not let love - no. emotions, get in the way of how they rule their kingdoms.
getting up, you had called for your maid. was moving on always this hard? was leaving the person you truly loved behind this disheartening? was your heart not ready to move on after so much ache? your mind flooded, it was scary. new. you haven't felt such ways in so long. the sound of your chamber doors whisked you out of the hole you called your mind.
it was your maid, she was here to dress you for the ball today. you stood, making your way to the folding screen and moving so she could dress you properly. "your highness," the woman whispered. "you shall't ask for that lowly knight anymore after this day, do you understand?" she had huffed out, fixing your corset before patting your skirt down and fluffing it out.
you nodded, silently. biting down on your lips as you held your tongue. she's always known what was best for you â she was your mothers old maid after all, so she knew best. the woman moved back, examining you. "oh dear," she said softly, putting her hands together and wiping away her tears. "you look.. perfect." she moved towards you, embracing you tightly.
you couldn't help but let out a stifled sob. the woman letting out a small "oh," before patting your head. "i know," she coo'd to you. her hands going from the crown of your head down to the end of it. "i thought, we were going to get married," you sobbed out, returning her touch.
the woman hitched her breath in, her hands now bringing themselves to your face and looking down at you. "you sound like your mother when she was younger," the woman chuckled softly, wiping your tears with her thumb. "if he was yours truly, he would find you no matter what, but alas he is not here. you are. you must proceed with your duties without him, it is time for you to become a woman. no longer shall you be a girl after this day." her hands were warm, and her gaze was like watching a sun set over the great horizons.
you could only nod in agreement, letting her finish on your hair and makeup. soon the woman was out of your chambers and gone in the quarter hallways of your palace. moving towards your mirror you couldn't help but look at yourself. oh how you longed for the man that was gone. the knight holding you closely, whispering sweet nothing's in your ear as he stared at you in the reflection. beauty, such natural beauty he saw in you, and in your imperfections.
letting out a deep sigh, you finally left your sleeping quarters, moving down the hall. your back straightened and head held high. another man, in the back following closely behind you. though, instead of laughing with the guard. smiling and looking back, you walked. forward. your face; straight and your heart heavy. you felt empty.
it wasn't until you had finally found your mother, her arms opening out to you as you embraced her. "darling, good news, we have found you a suitor! prince zayne!" she said, her arms opening wide out to your castle. you cringed. you've heard of him before. the stone cold prince who cared for no one, and only focused on the economy of his kingdom. he seemed as if he didn't care for love, like he didn't care for his future. yet, you stayed silent. "wonderous news, mother." you said softly avoiding her gaze.
"good, you shall dance with him tonight, do you understand? the final dance is reserved for both you and him." she turned to you, fixing your dress that had moved due to the walking. "smile dear, you shall rule over the world you know of now. the people need you, the people need a king." the words making you turn away.
she fell silent, your mother stepping away from you, not pressing the subject any further.
you had a duty, not a dream.
the night had fallen over the kingdom, darkness engulfing the second and third floor of your castle. your body sat still next to your mother as she encouraged you to go and make talk with the people who had danced around your ballroom. yet you didn't want to do that, you didn't want to do anything.
your eyes followed the people who moved, who swayed and spun around in happiness. yes, right. a day for you, for your wedding that is to be announced soon tonight. before you got up, a tall frame appeared in front of you. you looked up, seeing prince zayne. his hand out, waiting for you. reluctantly you grabbed his hand and followed down the stairs with him.
your arm wrapped around him, your hands intertwining with his. the music making you both sway so slowly. the prince leaned down, whispering in your ear. "we are to be engaged." he said softly. you shriek at the sound of it. "i know," you replied, the words coming out like a heavy weight on your chest. "you must know, as my wife, we shall't sleep in the same bed until your days or reproduction." his words were cold, you guess the rumors that floated around were true.
he spun you, your dress twirling before you latched back on to him, your face now shriveled up in disgust. "we shall't sleep together at all your royal highness." you muttered out "if we shall be wed, i shall wed with a man i love. you are not convincing me enough." your words cut through him like a knife, his interest in you piquing.
"our children will know of our loveless marriage, our kingdoms rely on both safety and security. the security you can give and the safety I can lie down." his words made you shiver, you so desperately wanted to push him away, yet all eyes were on you.
zayne noticed your unease. how your steps followed uneven with his â how you looked as if you have been shot with an arrow. he sighed before pulling away and bowing to you, speaking loudly. "apologies to cut this short your highness, yet i must go. hopefully you can save me a dance for another time." and with that, he was gone. your heart bubbled, and your eyes swelled. you ran.
you ran as fast as you could. it was all too much! marriage? unhappy children? a bleak life with a kingdom you will no longer have any urge to live for? not to mention your soon - to - be husband is a man who will take control and leave you with little to none! oh how you couldn't contain your sadness any longer, you've bottled up for so long just for it to pour out in a singular afternoon.
you ran to your chambers, the only safe area that allowed you comfort. your dress falling with you as you hit the ground the moment your door shut with you inside. the darkness swallowing you whole while you sobbed. you missed him, your knight, your love, your everything. yet he was not here, and you were to be wed to a man who cares not if you lived or died!
you were angry, upset and frustrated. you managed to wiggle yourself out of the dress that weighed you down and put on a more comfortable dress, breaking down bit by bit.
the quietness allowed your sobs to echo throughout your bedroom. your heart hurt and your body ached. it wasnât until you heard âknock knockâ at your door. you sighed, wiping your face before getting up and sighing on your end of the wall. âi cannot come out this instant,â you said trying to keep your voice up. âreturn to me once the sun has risen.â you turned to walk away.
âhas her royalness forgotten about me already?â
your eyes widen, turning straight to your door. that voice, so familiar yet so far â a lump forming in your throat. it has been so long, maybe â maybe it was some sort of curse. a curse of remembering, a curse to haunt you. yet, you couldnât help yourself, holding the door gently.
you pushed it open. your hands making their way to your lips in a gasp, then holding out. there, in front of you stood a man. he was tall, his frame big yet lighter than you remember. his hydrangea hued eyes that once shined with such brightness, now softer and exhausted. âis it you? my caleb?â you asked, gently placing your hand to his cheek, caressing his broken smile.
his hand followed, cupping your hand as he sighed nuzzling into your touch. his hands were rough, more rough than what you have been used too. like instead of holding his sword high to scare off any wandering eyes, he had been put into action, far too much more than he needed to be. âyou are gentle, treating me as if i am to break at some point.â he jested. your eyes followed around his body. his armor was dirtied, and his helmet stayed to his side exposing his face.
âhave my prayers been heard? have they finally sent you back to me?â you whispered, your hands caressing every part of his face, how real he felt. he spoke like your caleb, he had to be him.
caleb couldnât help but embrace you. his arm wrapping around you so easily like they have done many moons before. âi have spent a eternity coming back to you,â he said softly. âyet the love you feel for me, is not for me. i am not the same man you loved, i have hurt people. i am a monster,â his voice low.
you push him back, making his loose his footing before balancing himself. âyou accuse me of not loving you? you surely jest!â you yelled. your hands balled into a fist as you glared at him. âi have waited! waited! you left without a trace! not a soul would speak a word about your absence â your existence! i have yearned and prayed for your return, your touch and protection! and you dare call me a fake!â it was pouring out of you. your anger and sadness.
âyour highness â â his voice cut sharp off. âwhat have you done? you claim to not be mines? what have you done in his place? what makes you have the right to claim that the man whom i love is no longer here? in front of me!â your hand now point at him, poking and pushing him.
calebs hand grabbed yours in retaliation. âi have hurt people! killed! i have slaughtered over dozens of men and used people! i had to â i needed to get back to you! it was all to get back to my lady! to get back to you!â his response loud, a match between voices to be heard, listened to. caleb dipped his head into yours, âi must protect you, as that was my swore oath to the queen. my oath to you.â he said softly.
he let go of you, his hands dropping yours, instead of your hands returning to your body they reached out for him. your arms holding over him, embracing him. âthat does not wipe you away from me,â you said softly, bringing his gaze to yours. âdoes that mean i am not in love with the same man who has served and protected me? am i not in love with the same man who has stayed by my side for what had seemed like an eternity?" your voice seemed harsh, but laced with comfort.
"my lady," he said softly, you moved away from him. his gaze unwavering from you. "hush now, into my chamber. i shall call off the ball at once," you pushed him into your bedroom but he quickly grabbed your arm stopping you. "do not, you can hear the music from here. I shall have a dance with you," he said pulling you into his arms as your door closed on its own. his wrecked smile now blooming into a genuine one, his eyes beaming as they used to.
"you shall have a dance with me? sir caleb, if one does recall.. you are supposed to ask a lady to dance. what if I wish to dance alone?" you hummed in amusement. though it was already too late and he had already taken you both hand and waist. the slow movements of the music seemed to be more happy than when you were dancing with another.
caleb had spun you around, making you giggle in response. "if her royalness is to dance alone, surely that means she is waiting for some big, handsome knight to sweep her up off her feet and take her into his arms." before you could respond, he had picked you up and twirled you around making you laugh, more than you have ever in so long. it showed to him, he set you down, placing a kiss on your cheek.
"my fair lady," he bowed to you. "a lovely dance we had together." he hummed, you did the same. your dress pulling up as your legs crossed and you bowed down. "i can only say the same to you." you replied. before you knew it, the kingdom was entirely dark. the stillness surrounding you as you both realized that the ball had come to its end.
you looked back at the knight, worried. "you shall't leave!" you said quickly, the obscure switch of your emotions throwing him off as you pushed him to your bed, rushing to your door and putting a chair up to it, then back to him. "the night is still young, you must stay my love!" you whined out crawling on top of the poor knight. caleb let out a chuckle, "my lady," he hummed out. "if i were to leave i would've done so already, i am here to stay." his hands wrapping around your hairs that fell down your face, tickling him.
"yes but, what if you leave again? you had left me! you were gone without a word, no one would tell me anything! I cannot just trust that you will stay again, that you shall't hurt me once more," you bursted, your voice quieting down after each word. you choked back tears, oh how your knight hated seeing you hurt, his hands going from your hair to your cheek as he held you gently.
he hummed, his eyes grazing over you, "then if my lady does not believe my words," his hands brushing your cheek before moving down to your neck. "then I shall show her with my actions, shall I not?" caleb brought his hand to the crown of your neck, bringing you down to kiss him. he was gentle with you, steady. his mouth finding every part of your skin to kiss on.
his free hand traveled around your skin, unlacing your dress as he slipped his hands right between the fabric that had hidden your skin. "princess," he murmured, his gaze avoiding you then glancing back. "oh the things you do to me," he whined softly. you couldn't help but get up, moving away quickly as caleb sat up also. "was I too demanding? have I asked for too much of you?" he said worriedly, it wasn't the fact that he had just caressed you, touching you places no unmarried princess should allow anyone to touch - you were nervous. you shook your head. "i shall allow you to undress your armor first," you said looking away from him, and all caleb did was return a laugh.
"i am your knight, am i not? you will be the one taking off my armor, what is mine is yours." he stared as you crept closer to him, letting your top half of your empire gown fall. your tits pretty as you set next to the knight. you carefully helped him take off his armor, his eyes fixated on your pretty breasts.
once he was bare, he leaned in. kissing your neck as you let out small moans. "there you go," he hummed moving away from you, his hands now sliding against the skin of your thighs. he got off the bed, and knelt down to you, his eyes looking up at you. "may i?" he asked so nicely allowing you to return his question with a nod of approval.
calebs hand slid your dress up, his mouth following between your legs as he placed small kisses here and there, then his mouth latching on to your sensitive nub as he kissed and suckled on it. one of his hands still placed on your thigh, while the other rubbed small circles on your clit. oh how you felt so good, you moaned grabbing on to the softness of his hair. your legs twitch while he held one spread. "my gods, you are divine." he mumbled out.
the feeling made you gasp. it was new â and it felt so good. your hips rolling at the feeling of his tongue. your hand gripping his hair, while you whined. caleb hummed, his vibrations sending shivers down your body as you twitched. âuh uh princess,â he said softly, his hands holding your legs open while he could better a taste.
how he made you feel so good, your whines becoming begs and pleads, his pace quickening at the sounds of your moans. your hips practically rut against his mouth, his tongue coating every bit of your slit and folds, he wanted to make you feel good, make his princess know that he shall never leave her again. he was evil for leaving you; making you suffer.
you felt a heat rise in you, your heart thumping while you mindlessly whined. âi know,â he said softly, licking your clit as his hands rubbed furiously on your nub. âdo you feel good here?â he looked at your swelled eyes, âa yes it is,â he said softly. placing his last kisses on your sobbing cunt, watching you shake and twitch on his mouth, waves crashing together as you felt your high come down.
caleb moved away, his body finding its way up and over you. his hands tugged on your dress, completely pulling it off you. he flipped you over; his cock pushed up against your sobbing cunt. âplease, iâve been waiting so long â let me make you feel good mâladyâ he whined. you let out a small âgo aheadâ he pushed inside of you shuddering at the feeling.
he stilled, waiting for any sound or moment of discomfort or pain but instead he was met with a moan. your hips rocking against him, his hips only moving in a rhythm agreeing with yours. you gasped, moaning and gripping your sheets. he coaxed you in adoration, and sweet murmurs of âi love youâ â grabbing your hips and rutting into you.
âwe â ngh, are to be wed,â he groaned. his eyes falling on your pretty back, âand i will not leave you, mh, you will bear my children, and we will stay together. as king or queen, or as too common folk.â his thrusts were sloppy, hitting a spot that made you roll your eyes back. caleb kissed your body, worshipping every part of you that he could.
you felt the waves again, the heat of your climax. you sobbed as caleb took that as a sign. his pace quickening, snapping his hips into yours will harsher thrusts. âapologies, princess,â he groaned, his cock hit every angle of you, the sounds of âahâ and âohâs filled your room before you began to twitch, your waves crashing down as you climaxed. your juices leaking over his cock.
it didnât stop caleb, his cock leaking inside of you as he continued to thrust himself inside your sobbing cunt. his breaths now sounds of your name, his arms wrapping around your body lifting you up so he could go deeper inside you.
his thrusts were nasty against you, âm going to protect you forever,â he whined. âis that all right, princess?â his lips kissing your neck â you too far out to respond. his hips becoming faster before he slammed into you, spilling himself inside of you. he gave you slow strokes before pulling out. watching you numb on your bed as you pant and fight for air.
he couldnât help but kiss your head, petting it slowly and lying down next to you. âi told you,â he hummed. âi shallât be leaving you anymore, my love. i am your knight, and yours alone.â

taglist for my pipsquirters : @rcvcgers @neigepomme @tsumoorin @hannasarah @sleepyvivikitty @loldoll @rivifying @allmightyfishdick @criedallday
#ęŠ militaryapple#caleb smut#caleb#love and deepspace fic#lads fic#caleb x reader#love and deepspace caleb#caleb fic#lads x reader#lnds caleb smut#lads caleb smut#lnds smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#caleb x mc#caleb love and deepspace#caleb x you#lnds caleb#lnds caleb x reader#lads caleb#xia yizhou x reader#xia yizhou#xia yizhou smut#lnds fic#caleb lnds#apple luggage#knight caleb
943 notes
¡
View notes
Text
FLIRTING NEVER GOT YOU NOWHERE
Pairing: Azriel x Day Court! Reader
Summary: Youâre an archivist from Day Court visiting Velaris, what happens when you visit a nightclub and things go wrong? Or do they go oh so right? AKA you flirt with Azriel in a bar and sex ensues !
read part 2 now - AFTERGLOW
A/N: Iâm lowkey tired of shy insecure self insert fics so I wanted to write a piece about a bold unapologetic bitch who gets what she wants :) This is a very self indulgent fantasy based on rude things men have said to me at bars and how I wish someone had shown up for me. Like yeah I can stand for myself but also what if Azriel stepped up. I also made her bisexual because Iâm gay đ
Content Warnings: smut, cunnilingus & oral (so like m&f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (I am not going to spend my one precious life researching faerie contraceptive methods, so just imagine youâre on magic birth control or whatever. Or donât, if youâre into that!), female reader (w nipple piercings ooo), gross liberties taken with whatever Day court has going on, unwanted advances from a guy in a bar, uhhh minor gay slur, itâs maybee more OC than self insert cause I gave her a lot of personality, shamelessly self indulgent, no use of Y/N
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. AND I MEAN IT !
Word Count: 12.4k
read on AO3
The flashing lights and lively music that had been a tonic just minutes ago now pounded through your skull, as jarring as the words youâd exchanged with some dipshit at the bar moments ago. You set your eyes back on the dance floor. Where was that group of females youâd mixed with earlier to save you now? Youâd come to Ritaâs to let loose a little after being cooped up in dusty corners of libraries for weeks now. You wanted to experience Velarisâ famed nightlife. Despite this place coming highly recommended, you were beginning to wonder if you shouldnât have trusted that shy priestessâ taste in nightclubs. Â
âCome on, whatâs wrong with you?â The maleâs whiny voice didnât quite hit the macho tenor he was aiming for as he yelled after you. You whip back around, incredulity written on your face.
âWhatâs wrong with me?â you snarl. âIâm so glad you asked, buddy ,â you see his pretty boy attitude shift into a sneer at the moniker, âcause I am not the one. What the fuck is your problem?âÂ
Two steps and youâre back up in his space, just as he had invaded yours moments earlier when youâd rejected his advances. He didnât seem to enjoy the treatment either, now that it was clear you wouldnât stand for his shit. You could buy your own liquor. Especially when the other offer came from someone who thought appropriate eye contact involved breasts and an introduction equated to wandering hands.Â
âWhat, are you one of those carpet munchers or something?â he tries to deflect. Your eyes narrow. This fucker is in for it now. You canât blame a guy for wanting to get his dick wet. However, you can blame him for being an entitled bigot about it.Â
âYou son of a bitch,â you start, your face hardening into a sneer, your stance subconsciously shifting to a defensive position. At this, his eyes widen and his mouth parts but before he can speakâ âYou think just because someone doesnât want you, they must be categorically repulsed by males?â You snort, eyeing him up and down. âIâm surprised you havenât been laughed out of this bar yet. Iâve seen dogâs piss land more artfully than your attempts with females tonight. If youâve somehow hidden some sense behind that ego, I suggest you take it with you when you leave.âÂ
He chokes on air, eyes wide and face taught. Okay. Weird. You know you can be ruthless, but typically your feminine stature in a mini skirt meant you had to work harder than that to make a bastard sweat in fear.Â
His glassy eyes are focused over your shoulder. You turn your head, keeping the corner of your eye on the sorry male in front of you. When you catch the hulking Illyrian form behind you, you lose that focus as you take in wide shoulders and simmering rage. Rage directed at the whelp still pissing himself behind you at the bar. This new maleâs face is a hard mask, his lip curling in disdain. Â
âYou heard the lady.â Your stomach drops at his voice, deep and resolute. âI suggest you take her advice.â
Azriel watches the slimy bastard hightail it out of the crowded club. You miss the pathetic scene of his flight, only catching how the male in front of you relaxes when his target finally makes an exit. Youâre glad heâs been keeping his eyes on the other guy, cause youâve been staring in shock. His muscled arms, toned chest, looming wings, thick thighsâ okay. That you could handle. Under ordinary circumstances. But two shots deep, in your most revealing outfit, and through the swirling lights, seeing the tattoos that peak out over the top of his vest at his collarbones and pecs⌠you swallow, forcing your mind back to the situation at hand as his eyes shift from the figure disappearing behind you.Â
His pinched brows relax as he takes you in. âLooks like you had it under control,â he says, raising one eyebrow- one glorious eyebrow, a hesitant grin making its way onto his face, as if he was impressed.Â
âNot the first time Iâve had to put someone in their place,â you shrug, off balance from the abruptly ended confrontation. Before this male appeared, youâd been gearing up for a fight. Boundaries are simple for you. Cross one and you remind them where you stand. He nods, his face solemn in understanding.Â
âI saw things getting heated. He looked like he was about to⌠grab you.â His lips twitch, like he still hasnât decided if he should do something permanent about it. âThen you were removing yourself from him. And here we are.âÂ
âHere we are,â you repeat. His words, simple as they were, made your spine itch. âThanks for having my back.â You meant it. You know you could have handled him on your own, but nonetheless, it was nice to have the cavalry arrive right on time.
He flashes you a brief tight lipped smile, the picture of courtesy, âAnytime.â He shifts, like he means to leave you to yourself now that the drama had concluded without any blood.Â
âCan I buy you a drink?â you blurt out, almost in reflex at the male now in front of you. âAs thanks.âÂ
His eyebrows raise momentarily in surprise. Curious, you think. Surely the hunk of male was used to females showering him in liquor and more. You notice the lights around him go blurryâ oh shit. Those are shadows. Fuck.Â
Realization hits you. No fucking way you just asked the High Lordâs inner court shadowsinger if you could buy him a drink. You kick yourself inwardly, but keep your face a mask of coy request.Â
âThereâs no need to thank me,â he says genuinely, slightly shaking his head, even as his cheeks flush lightly, his eyes skirting up your figure. âYou donât owe me anything.â
âOf course I donât,â you smirk, confidence rushing through you at his reaction. âConsider it an unnecessary but kind gesture, tit for tat,â you tease, since you both know that his presence alone certainly scared off the unwanted male, even if he didnât need to lift a finger. He cracks a grin at that, the minor barb landing exactly as youâd intended.
âSure,â he shrugs.
A simple acceptance, so casually offered, lands you deeper than you ever could have expected to get with a high ranking member of a foreign Court. He lets you order him something neat, grunting in appreciation when he catches a whiff of the dark liquid in his glass, same as yours.Â
âCheers.â You clink your glass to his, hiding your smile with a drink. It burns down your throat, grounding you. His hand had gently hovered over your lower back as youâd taken your seat at the bar again, ready to help but also blocking anyoneâs view. Even though he hadnât touched you, the ghost of his hand may as well have scorched your skin for how you felt it.  Â
âWhatâs your name?â you ask, suddenly realizing that while you know who he is, youâd never caught his name. Was it confidential information?
âAzriel,â he replies. âYours?â You tell him, and he hums, repeating it. Your name on his mouth makes your insides burn, but you remind yourself itâs probably just the liquor.Â
âAm I allowed to say your name out loud? Or is it a court secret?â you ask, and he graces you with another grin. He looks around conspiratorially before leaning in, which sends a thrill through you.Â
âMy friends call me Az,â he murmurs lowly. âJust to be safe in the eyes of the law,â he adds with utter seriousness, only betrayed by the glimmer in his eyes. You laugh at that, excited apprehension making you sensitive to his every word.Â
âWell, itâs very nice to meet you, Az.â You swear his shadows twitch at your words. Youâre enjoying sitting here with him next to you, his body curved towards yours, knees almost touching. Your body relaxes, all the tension of the eveningâs events replaced with a pleasant thrum of vitality.
âLikewise,â he says gruffly. You wonder if he feels the same intoxicating energy between you. His hazel eyes blaze even in the dim light of the quiet corner of the bar, his soft hair sticking slightly to his forehead in the heat of the packed bar. You want to brush it away, but you resist the sudden urge. Youâre not sure what to say next. Ordinarily, youâre adept at conversation, but the powerful presence before you renders your mind blank. Â
Youâre relieved when he says, âI havenât seen you here before.â His gaze pins you. What is he seeing? What is he looking for? Youâre not sure what he finds that causes him to elaborate, âI would have noticed you.âÂ
âI would have noticed you, too,â you breathe.
âDoubtful,â he drawls in a playfully contrarian tone. His shadows dance along his wings over his shoulders, swirling almost in arrogance around the horns at their apex.Â
âWhat? Do they normally keep you hidden in the shadows?â you prod, flashing your teeth. He exhales sharply from his nose, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous implication. Encouraged, you place your hand on his knee under the bar top.Â
âDo they bully you?â you ask sweetly, dropping your voice quietly in mock concern.Â
He coughs a little laugh at that, then schools his features into a pained expression.Â
âYes. Yes, they bully me.â You bite your lip at the image of him playing fragile, wounded. Your hand on his thigh is on fire. âHorribly,â he adds, voice wobbling.
âLet me know if you need help with that,â you tell him, with equal sobriety. âI could lend you my services, I have a certain skill in intimidation.âÂ
His composure breaks at that, and he laughs from his gut this time, and you join him. The sound is prettier than any music.
âMy hero!â he exclaims, gasping through his laughter, grabbing the hand that you pull away from his knee. You giggle as he grasps your hand securely, bringing them to rest together at his knee. His thumb brushes your knuckles while he smiles at you. It takes all your discipline to fight the shudder that threatens your body.Â
âThis is my first time here,â you answer his initial prompt, gesturing around the lively bar. âIâm actually visiting from Day Court.â He quirks his head at that. He looks strangely adorable like this, curiosity cracking his typically closed off expression.Â
âYouâre from Day?âÂ
âYeah.â Several of his shadows break away from his form to explore you, like youâve suddenly become an irresistible object of interest to them. âI was an archivist at one of the central public libraries, and recently⌠Iâve been brought on to work in my Lordâs personal collection.â Azriel looks curious at that, so you continue, âLord Helion is a generous boss.â His eyebrows shoot up at that.Â
âNot like that!â you defend, blushing, aware of his reputation. âHe trusts me,â you amend.Â
âSo Iâm here for your libraries. AfterâŚâ Youâre remiss to mention Amarantha, despite her destruction coloring every sphere of your work. âWell. We all lost something, didnât we? Now my role is to see what information can be recovered and preserved in my Court once more.â
Azriel listens intently, seeming to understand exactly what gave you pause. He nods as you finish. He also works in information, he tells you, although his intelligence operates in a different arena. You tell him more about your research when he prompts; the long hours in dimly lit rooms, the sweet but introverted colleagues, and, despite what an endless endeavor it was, the excitement when you discover just the right source.Â
If someone had asked you that morning, youâd have been certain that an archivistâs work would bore anyone with such a high profile role as his, but he sees the heart of your contribution, the valuable work of recovery.Â
His concentration on your every word would be unnerving, if it werenât so enthralling. He maintains eye contact even as you gesture wildly with your free hand, snorts at all your jokes, and asks questions to keep you talking. It doesnât escape you how he poses these questions just as the conversation might have naturally turned towards him. He deftly pulls information out of you with subtle cues, a question here, a curious look there. Once youâve dazzled him with stories of your life back in Day and bored him with the details of your work, (although you did your best to pepper in your favorite stories, like the time you discovered an entire catalogue of ancient erotic court poetry), you dare to ask him about his own life here at the Night Court.Â
You expected him to continue deflecting, as heâd been so fascinated by your home court, but he actually responds with some substance. Azriel pauses before pointing out his family, a group of equally breathtaking and imposing fae in a booth at the other end of the bar. He keeps it brief, but shares how he met Cassian and Rhys in a training camp and hasnât known a moment's peace since. Despite his harsh words, you catch the tenderness even as he grumbles on about Mor and Feyre, and Amren, who isnât here tonight, which he says you can detect by the lack of frightened screams. Youâre equally shocked and delighted by the casual humor with which he treats them all.Â
Itâs not lost on you that heâs just told you about his family when you had asked about him. Yet between his calculated words and their meaningful tone, heâs actually sketched quite an intimate picture of his life and his values.Â
You like the rhythm of his curt words, how he says a lot with a little. Occasionally, his dry humor will catch you by surprise, and heâll grace you with a wry smile as you laugh. The spymaster can be quite unexpectedly cavalier at moments, much to your delight. He meets your playful verbal sparring with just as much fire. Â
After chatting amiably for a while, a comfortable silence falls between you as you nurse your drinks. Azriel surveys the crowded room, ever on alert. You take the chance to brazenly observe him. You canât pick what to focus on. The slope of his nose fascinates you, you wish you could reach out and trace it. The elegant planes of his face are punctuated by strong features, his brows, chin, and jaw all bold. You wonder how heâs such a successful spy when heâs built so distractingly. Especially with such expansive wings, currently tucked behind where he perches on his stool. His careful arrangement of them does little to hide their imposing glory. You suddenly wish you could see them splayed out in full spectacle.Â
Over the duration of your research at Night Court, youâd come across descriptions of Illyrians, read about their culture, their physical traits. Their wings were closely guarded, sensitive parts. You were curious about flying, what it felt like, if they enjoyed it. You feel his rough hand on yours still, noticing their size and the thick veins under his scars. You force yourself to reel your mind out of the gutter, instead diverting to wonder at the marks that cross his hands. When you look back to his face, his unreasonably fashionable lashes flutter as he finally catches you observing him. You see high color in his cheeks, but he doesnât call you out. You finish your drink, noting that his glass is also empty.
You motion your glass to the bartender, chatting briefly while he pours you two fresh ones. You can barely focus on the pleasantries you exchange, aware of Azrielâs eyes on you. His expression is soft, yet heady. Intense. His gaze traces your features in the same way you had just admired him.Â
You turn back to him eventually to push his drink into his hand. His eyes reluctantly move from your exposed back and briefly over your lips before meeting your eyes. You immediately look away, scanning the bar absentmindedly as you flick your hair over your shoulder. The motion exposes your neck, testing, aware of his gaze still on you. He takes a long, slow drink, his eyes never leaving you. When you swallow, you see his eyes follow the movement of your throat.
âIs this a gay bar?â you ask abruptly.
He chokes, coughing into his arm. âWhat?âÂ
âIs this a gay bar?â you repeat, your nose scrunching in a wince at his reaction. Youâve never seen him so caught off guard, didnât know it was possible. He catches your grimace, and quickly recovers, wiping his nose as he recovers from his coughing fit. He nods in confirmation.Â
âYou must think us horrible,â he says, referring to his court, compared to Day, which was much more open around sexual attraction and orientation, he guessed, if their High Lord was any indication. He thought of Helionâs history of advances to him, and Mor and Cassian for that matter. âFirst, that bastard talks to you like that. Thenââ
âNo!â you interject. âNo, your people are just more⌠reserved. I didnât see anything indicating it⌠but I noticed a few ladies sitting together like we are. So I wonderedâŚâ you flounder. Itâs his turn to wince.
âWhy?â he asks. âAre you looking for a lucky lady?â
âNot tonight.â You hide your grin behind a sip, as his eyes widen almost imperceptibly at your meaning, his pupils dilating. Youâd enjoyed your fair share of females, males, others⌠Your eyes narrow on him then. âWait, why are you here then?âÂ
âItâs Morâs favorite club.â He shrugs. âAnd I donât mind playing security in case any oblivious males wander in with big ideas in the wrong way.âÂ
âAhh. So you donât usually come to the gay club to pick up females?âÂ
He just snorts at that, shaking his head at your nonsense. You donât miss how his shadows perk up at your choice of words. You grin, showing him your teeth as you prod further.Â
âSo I should feel special then?â
You hear his sharp intake of breath, the only sign he understands your implication. He sets his drink down, his eyes on yours, questioning. Your heart thuds heavily in your chest as you watch his motions, tense with anticipation. You meet his gaze, confident and steady. Youâd seen how he had devoured you with his gaze moments ago.Â
âWhat are you implying?â he grunts, voice thick.Â
âI think youâre smart enough to figure it out,â you whisper, your eyes on his.Â
He only hums, his hand coming to cradle your face, caressing your jaw. The touch arouses your senses, a slow flame flickering to life in your abdomen. His pupils are blown wide, like heâs found a mystical reality in your eyes. Itâs his gaze flickering to your lips before finding your eyes again, imploring, that causes you to break. âAre you gonna make me say it?âÂ
âYes.â He squints, unyielding.Â
You whine. You whine . Youâve never whined for a male in your life. Thereâs a first time for everything, you suppose. After all, you were sent here for research. A new experience such as this could certainly fall within that wheelhouse. Azriel was generously helping you with your research, exploring your capacity to keen for someone in desperation. You take in his capable hands, his broad shoulders and wings, his delicate lips. The fantasies flashing in your mind force you to confront your desire. Itâs been brewing all night.Â
âI want you,â you speak with utter clarity.Â
Thatâs all it takes and heâs tossing back the rest of his drink, his hand sliding down to catch your arm, unwilling to break contact. And then heâs ushering you out of your chair, ever the gentleman, and rushing you through the crowd until you hit the fresh air, your feet on the cobblestone street for the barest moment before he sweeps you up again, one hand gripping your hip, the other placed firmly on your jaw. His breath comes in short pants as his flared eyes meet yours, again questioning, allowing you control.Â
In answer, you angle your head up to meet his mouth in a furious kiss. Your hands circle his neck, grasping his hair, blindly trying to find purchase as your lips connect. All your sensory experience fades save for the burn of his mouth on yours, and the feeling of his hands pressed to your body. You taste the lingering spice of the liquor youâd shared and beneath it, something earthier, the taste of him. You pour all your passion and need into the contact, and you feel the same charge from him. His ravenous kiss is a window to the tempest inside, his desperation evident in every move of his powerful jaw against yours.Â
When he pulls away, heâs panting hard, a grin threatening to overtake his majestic features, his lips swollen and shining in the starlight.Â
âWe doing this on the street, orâŚ?â you prompt breathlessly.
He takes in the thankfully deserted street outside the noisy club. âGood a place as any,â he shrugs.Â
You scrunch your nose and tug his hair. His laughter dissolves into a groan at your actions. âFuck. Youâre killing me,â he breathes.
âIâm about to,â you say, exasperated with the delicious male entangled with you.Â
âMy place?â he asks. You nod quickly, in desperation for his touch as much as desire to get out of the public area. He hums again, âAnd here I was thinking that you Day Court fae were so much more open and shameless about these things.âÂ
You scoff at his words.Â
âYouâd better be worth the trouble,â you grumble, hiding your mirth. He flashes you the cockiest grin, and youâd smack him if you didnât want to preserve his mouthâs function for better uses.Â
âTrust me, baby, I am.âÂ
âProve it.âÂ
His eyes flash at your taunting. âHold on,â he growls.
You swallow a scream as his wings extend, and his legs bend briefly before leaping into flight. His arms wrap tightly around your frame, and you cling to his neck fiercely. You recall your fantasy about his wings from earlier in the evening. As you soar into the night sky, you find yourself admiring them once more, their power and his deft command of them.Â
âI canât believe youâre admiring me instead of the view.â His voice interrupts your thoughts.
âIf I look at the view, we might be seeing some of that whiskey from earlier again,â you admit, your stomach dancing from so many different stimuli on your nervous system. The flying, the anticipation of sex, the sheer proximity with the stunning male who carried you now.Â
âWeâre not far away,â he assures. Sure enough, when you risk looking away from his elegant, aerodynamic form, you see the city below rising into the cliffside where the courtâs residence was perched.Â
You barely have a moment to take in the magnificent columns and lavish ornamentation of the palace balcony after he sets you down before he reconnects your lips. His blistering appetite sets your own aflame again, his hands sliding along your form, pausing briefly at your exposed midriff.Â
When he first appeared behind you in the bar, he had been gallant and polite, the perfect picture of a noble courtier. As youâd flirted over your drinks, his wry humor had surfaced, and now this unbridled passion had emerged. There certainly was more to the shadowsinger than met the eye. Your insides fluttered at the intimacy of your insight into the divine male who you were currently swapping spit with. You thanked the Mother that youâd dedicated yourself to flirting all these years in good faith, without ever knowing that your dedication would be rewarded in such fine form. Against your will, your mouth began to curve into a smile against his.Â
With backbreaking effort, you break away from his lips. He goes to follow your lips, but you stop him with a chaste kiss before pressing kisses along his jaw and down his throat.
âSorry for the turbulence,â he gasps out as you continue your assault on his neck. âI needed us to get here. F-fast.âÂ
Your only acknowledgement of his words is the flick of your tongue over the spot under his jaw youâd just marked. How considerate of him. Even when heâs melting beneath you, he maintains his manners. The devil inside you wonders what it would take for him to abandon his civility. Between kisses, you glance down to see his leathers barely restraining him. You figure you might not need an elaborate plot to find out after all.
He growls as you notice his arousal. You look up from the crook of his neck, and his expression turns your core molten, desire written plainly across his face. His hands had wandered down to your ass, where he now taps gently, urging you up into his strong arms. Your heart leaps as he picks you up, but he doesnât take off flying this time. He carries you further into the interior, your legs coming to wrap around his midsection, your arms secured again around his neck. Heâs holding you by your thighs like your weight is nothing, causing you to burn in anticipation of how he might throw you around later.  Â
Fire throttles through your veins at the incessant touch of his wet lips on your neck. Heâs dedicated to returning the favor of your vicious attack on him moments ago. You have no idea how he successfully navigates the hallways despite being buried under your jaw, for all you know heâs using your moans and whines to echolocate.Â
Itâs a short trip, but right when you were about to beg for him to just take you in the hallway, he walks you into a simply furnished room with expansive windows and another balcony that offers a sweeping view of the city. Starlight streams in, painting the room and the male carrying you in a silver glow. The breathtaking midnight ambiance does nothing to distract the soldier currently working through your meager defenses via bruising open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. His fervor makes your skin dance, it's been a while since your body has received such attentions.
âFuck, am I glad I caused a scene with that bastard earlier. Got your attention anâ all.â You mean it as a joke, but his expression darkens with reserved aggression.Â
âThat was meant in jest,â you clarify.Â
âHe was leering at you all night,â Azriel growls, between wet kisses to your neck. âI still might tear his throat out.âÂ
His words go straight to your core.Â
âHeâs long gone,â you force yourself to say casually, despite how his words affected you. Between that and his tongue, itâs a wonder youâre still stringing together coherent syllables. âHow would you even find him?â you laugh, attempting to divert the maleâs intensity.Â
He pulls away from your neck and gives you a pointed look. âItâs⌠kind of my job,â he says.
âOh,â you say foolishly. Right. Azriel is the courtâs Spymaster. He probably has his shadows tailing the bastard at this very moment to make sure he doesnât bother anyone else. He could easily eliminate anyone he so chose. âRight.âÂ
He shakes his head at your antics, finally walking you over to the bed. In your research, you never came across anything about shadowsingers, so youâre not sure if his shadows had read your mind â but he throws you on the bed exactly as youâd fantasized, powerfully and precisely, your body bouncing as you gasp in shock and delight before he follows you, crawling onto the bed to hover over you.Â
His wings flare slightly as his legs settle between yours, one of his knees hooking under your leg, exposing your clothed core to his every brush.Â
âDo you want me to kill him for you?â he purrs into your skin. You gasp, at his words as much as the twisted thrill they send through you. You look into his eyes, and slap his shoulder at the mischief you see in his expression. He laughs at your indignation.Â
âI would if you wanted me to,â he reiterates, an arrogant grin spreading across his face. âI might do it just because it seems like it would turn you on.â You gasp again at his words, face flushing in embarrassment. âNo need to be embarrassed, baby.â He returns to placing lazy kisses along your neck as you moan beneath him.Â
âIâve got you,â he whispers, voice heady. You almost canât bear it. Heâs making you feel so good with just his mouth on your neck. Youâre not sure how youâll survive the night.Â
Azriel must be determined to take you within an inch of your life, you think. His next dizzying move is to grab your hands from where theyâd begun exploring his body to trap them above your head. To your relief, he ends his siege on your neck, instead serving slow torture as he reconnects your lips in a sensuous kiss, your body singing as you lay pinned beneath him. You feel his hard length press into your thigh. By his quiet moans, you recognize the same ardor he displayed earlier, though at an easier pace now that he has you where he wants you. That just wouldnât do. He canât have all that muscle mass just to keep it covered, poised tantalizingly out of sight above you.Â
Heâs reading your mind again, you think, as his fingers toy with the hem of your top in silent question. You sit up rapidly, his quick reflexes narrowly avoiding your head colliding with his nose.Â
âYes, please! Finally,â you nod, his laughter echoing in reply at your eagerness. âYou want to help?â you ask. His face is flushed from your activities but you swear it deepens at your words. You raise your arms, allowing him to lift the silky black material from your form. Heâs silent, starlight flashing on the dark expanse of his pupils, blown wide. You would be unnerved if it weren't for the way his chest is rising and falling dramatically, the hunger in his gaze, in his parted lips. You see him start to crisply fold the slim fabric before his brain kicks in and he throws it aside haphazardly. While you love a tidy male, you do prefer one with such a proper sense of priorities.Â
âGood boy,â you coo absently, preoccupied with absorbing every detail of his reaction to your lace clad chest.Â
âYouâre fucking perfect,â he sighs finally, his eyes flickering to yours as his hands hover above your breasts. You bite your lip and grab his hands to connect them to your waiting chest.
âTouch me, Az. Donât be shy with that mouth either,â you order as he scowls playfully, already palming your tits with zeal. You see his eyes widen as he feels them, specifically the bars in your nipples. His mouth falls open, and it's your turn to flash him a smug grin even as he has you writhing from just his rough hands playing with your chest.Â
âIâm not shy,â he grumbles brattily. You allow his attitude given how he quickly follows it up by placing his mouth back to your chest, this time exploring further from your collarbones, moving to skim the tops of your bra and the valley between your breasts.Â
âItâs not my fault you make me crazy,â he groans, his eyes glistening like the spit dangling deliciously between his mouth and your skin.Â
You just moan in response. How are you supposed to respond to that coherently? Especially as he cruelly pulls away for a brief moment to shrug off his vest, revealing the inked expanse of his chest and the curling hair trailed low on his stomach to disappear beneath his leathers.Â
âCan I taste you, baby?â Scratch that thought. How are you supposed to respond to that coherently? âGonna let me make you feel good, huh?â Azriel begs, his voice thick with need. You nod, delirious at the mere suggestion.Â
âI need to hear your words, angel,â he smiles, seeing the fog in your eyes, needing to know it's all for the right reasons.
âYes, Az. Yes, please,â you manage. He presses a quick kiss to your lips, humming in satisfaction, before moving his touches down your body.Â
He handles you like youâre the most cherished thing heâs ever beheld, but not like youâre fragile. You canât remember the last time a male handled you with such awe and respect. You whine as he kisses your stomach, making your center melt. Youâre sure youâre dripping at this point, but you canât be bothered to feel embarrassment in the presence of the Illyrian kneeling before you in reverence, his mussed hair a dark halo, his leathers conspicuously strained at his crotch.Â
He tugs you to the edge of the bed, carefully situating you with a pillow as he kneels on the floor. You feel like a boxing dummy that heâs strategically setting up just to destroy.Â
âIâve been looking forward to this all night,â he admits as he sets your knees over his shoulders, your feet kicking his wings lightly. You realize you havenât even taken off your boots, youâre not even sure when he took his off, but as you go to mention your shoes and your skirt, he kisses the inside of your knee and the words die in your throat.Â
He rubs his hands over the tops of your thighs, pulling pretty moans from you as he kisses along the inside of your legs, towards where you need him most. Youâre really not sure what his plan is with your skirt and underwearâ until he dives right in, licking you over your clothed center, eliciting a garbled sound you hardly recognize as yours.Â
Your skirt is so short it offers no real barrier, except slightly obscuring the tip of his nose as it digs salaciously into your clit. A shadow curls around his ear, and he makes eye contact with you as he hikes your skirt up slightly, so you can see his every move.Â
âEyes on me, angel,â he commands softly, and any response you might have had chokes and dies on your lips. He deftly hooks his fingers in your undergarments, aggressively pulling them to the side. And then his mouth is back on your core, and itâs an overwhelming sensation, his warm tongue licking a stripe up your center, then relaying to repeat the motion down to your opening. You grip the sheets in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. One of his hands strokes your thigh while the other keeps your wild hips pressed firmly into the mattress.Â
He pauses only to murmur soft praises as you tremble at his caresses. At this point youâre seriously concerned about your erotic future. What if this male ruins you for everyone else? What if you can never successfully pleasure yourself again? You know youâll never be able to replicate the bliss heâs currently delivering. His mouth scorches you, heâs taken on a slow and steady rhythm, lapping and sucking, thatâs unstringing your body from your soul. Youâre not sure that youâll ever recover. Youâre grateful that you have no plans tomorrow because youâre not sure youâll be able to walk. Maybe youâll be able to roll yourself down the palaceâs endless steps and to the library where one of the priestesses might take mercy on you and nurse you back to health. You could pay them by recounting this experience, surely this prime fuel for fantasy would equate to some kind of currency. With a generous exchange rate.Â
Your eyes shoot open as his mouth leaves you, your moans taking on a pained note at the visceral loss.Â
âBaby,â Azriel chides. âI asked you to keep your eyes on me.âÂ
You hadnât even realized youâd closed your eyes as youâd been calculating the exchange rate of sexual fantasy fodder to gold. You will yourself out of the delirium, but his glistening mouth isnât helping.Â
âStay with me, angel,â he murmurs, thumb rubbing encouraging circles on your inner thigh as you babble something rude about his upbringing while he takes the moment to slip your ruined undergarment down your legs.Â
Heâd given up on holding you down, so you grind into his face as he resumes his merciless consumption of your molten pussy. The vibrations of his moans on your core multiply your pleasure delectably. The whole glorious sky of the Night Court seemingly flashes across your vision as he lowers his rough fingers to add pressure to your sensitive bud, swirling pleasure explosive as shooting stars.Â
âYou taste so good, baby,â he praises. âThis all for me?â he asks as he gathers your slick with his fingers before resuming his strokes. All you can do is moan helplessly in affirmation.Â
When he finally sucks your clit into his mouth, the pressure has you gasping, gripping his hair to anchor yourself to him, to the pleasure heâs delivering straight to your weeping core. He alternates between licking and sucking your clit while he teases you with his thick digits. He looks utterly engrossed, devoted to your trembling form, working you meticulously.Â
âAzriel,â you warn. Your breath quickens just before your body stills, broken noises escaping your lips, falling like a beautiful reward on his waiting ears. The release is more powerful than anything youâve experienced in recent memory, rocking you to your teeth.Â
He works you through the aftershock of your orgasm, continuing to lick and thrust until your spasms quiet, your breathing calmed from its fervent staccato as he cleans you out.Â
âHey, are you still with me?â he asks, concerned.Â
You realize you havenât said anything and heâs been sitting rubbing the tops of your thighs softly while you come down from your high. Too tired for words, you bend to guide his head up to meet yours in a luxurious kiss. It invigorates you, languid as it is, his tongue exploring the backs of your teeth as he sucks in a long breath before moaning into your mouth.Â
His arms come to cup your face, dislodging one of your legs that remain thrown over his shoulder. It falls with a loud thud as your booted heel meets the floor, your limbs like lead. The sound makes him jump and pull away guiltily as he takes in your state of collapse.Â
âIâve never been better,â you confess candidly.Â
He smiles at that, ruddiness in his cheeks deepening at your declaration.Â
âI canât believe they let you walk free about the lands,â you continue, egging him on, shaking your head. âYouâre a goddamn menace! That mouth should be regulated! I should have gotten security clearance to have that experience.âÂ
He buries his head in your knee, his shoulders shaking in mirth as he hides from your praise. He kisses your knee and you curse the rubber feeling in your legs, wishing you could kick him for his insolence. Instead you pet the back of his neck, soaking in the sight of him between your legs.Â
You donât know it, but heâs soaking in your image as much as you are his. You look ethereal splayed out above him, his shadows skirting around the silver light glowing on your scalp, creating a kinetic halo fit for a queen. In your bra and hiked up skirt, catching your breath on his bed, your vitality is on full display for Azrielâs keen eyes, your pulsing life form beating and raw to his senses. Even in your state of undress, your appearance is regal, striking in command above him. He feels his shadows writhing in excitement, thrilled with your energy, matching the gravitational anomaly in his gut.Â
Azriel is reminded of the gravity of battle, how for centuries he has waded through enemies time and time again in a familiar yet shapeless pattern of destruction. Despite the wrathful chaos, thereâs a rhythm heâs come to anticipate. Amidst the waves of common soldiers, every division or so, he will fall into the gravity of a real threat, usually an enemy commander, an opportunity to face a real contender. Their paths of destruction will orbit briefly before colliding in gruesome ruin. He knows heâs been lucky to emerge in the land of the living after these conflicts.Â
At this moment, heâs strangely reminded of that repulsive kind of attraction, of power to power, as he once again faces a real contender. Itâs a total inverse, yet your magnitude presents a similarly brilliant polarity. The aftershock of your pleasure is a welcome sequence compared to the grim aftermath of such a battle. He much prefers your sacred subversion of that profane impact. As you stroke his hair, it feels like redemption. It feels like his twisted history of bloodshed could be transformed and redeemed as justice under your tender hand.Â
He kisses your knee once more, blinking away the stinging in his eyes. His thoughts return to the present as you shift above him, sinking to his level on the carpet to capture his lips with a kiss once more. You hum, tasting yourself on him now that your senses have recovered from his euphoric torment.Â
The impatient male lifts you up effortlessly, and you let him stand the two of you, until he moves to take you back to the bed. You twist, and Azriel allows you to spin him so that youâre backing him towards the cushions. He groans into the kiss as your fingers brush his lower abdomen, skimming the edge of his leathers. You feel the reverberation of it in your own stomach.Â
âAre you going to let me return the favor?â you ask with a devilish grin. The sight of your soft tongue and sharp canines makes his wings twitch, willing his shadows to relax their riot, but they betray him. His eyes shine with need, breath hitching as you dip a finger under the waistband of his pants.Â
âI need to hear your words, angel,â you mimic his earlier words.Â
âDo your worst,â Azriel grunts, instantly regretting his words as he catches your wicked look.Â
You push his shoulders so he throws himself dramatically against the bed, wings flared slightly in anticipation. His mouth falls open as you move away from him, but his protests die as he sees you reach behind your torso to unclasp your bra, finally revealing your chest to him fully. His throat thickens, fists clenching in the sheets as you run your hands along your form, massaging your breasts, relieved to be unconstricted at last. The moonlight glitters on the jewelry in your hard nipples, attractively ornamenting some of your favorite features. Looking at the male barely restraining himself in front of you, you almost feel bad for how riled up he is.Â
Taking pity on the simmering Illyrian, you cut your strip tease short, planting a slow kiss on his lips before kneeling before him. If Azriel was concerned about your magnetism earlier, heâs certain itâs fatal now. Your fluffed hair, dislodged skirt, and bare chest all poised to drive him insane with want. When you finally slide his leathers down his thighs, heâs relying on his centuries of training to keep himself under control. The sight of his impressive length, swollen and rigid against his stomach, has your thighs clenching.   Â
You stroke his upper thighs, kissing along the inside of his knees. His dick twitches as you wrap your hand around its swollen girth. Your first experimental tug elicits a deep stuttering groan from the male. His expression is almost flustered, skin flushed and damp. Despite the sweat youâve both broken, itâs not doing anything for the chafing. Dissatisfied with the dry friction, you use your brain, quickly locating the nearest source of wetness, which happens to be between your legs. Azrielâs jaw looks like it's about to break from tension, his eyes wide as he follows your hand disappearing under your skimpy skirt. When you grip his cock again, itâs to spread the slickness along his member. You look up at him innocently as you continue pumping, finding a satisfying rhythm.Â
âYou like that?â you ask teasingly.Â
âYouâre gonna kill me, angel.â He canât contain the shudder that racks his body at the image and sensation of your firm hand pumping his dick. Heâs worried about losing brain function with the lack of blood circulating anywhere else in his body. His chest heaves, and he forces himself to focus on breathing regularly as you drag your hand up and down him, squeezing occasionally at the base. When you lick flat along the underside of his length, his wings flap in a brief frenzy.Â
âJust like that,â he cries.Â
You grin at his reactions, his broken moans and spasms only encouraging your actions. After he just rewrote your pussyâs worldview with his tongue, youâre delighted to serve him the same experience.Â
âYou look so stunning on your knees for me.âÂ
He grasps your scalp, keeping a light hold on your hair as you bend to place shallow licks at his head. His strangled groan has you wrapping your lips fully around his neglected tip.Â
âFuck,â he exhales.Â
The salty musk of him fills your mouth as you breathe through your nose to focus on his sensitive head. You use your hand to pleasure him from the shaft as you suck lightly on the end of his cock, swirling your tongue. His moans of rapture send thrills through you. You look up at him, entranced by the pleasure written on his face. You bob your head, taking him in further, causing him to curse again. You donât bother with taking all of him, youâre not trying to choke and die even on this divine dick, and your mouth is full as it is, tears threatening your waterline. Your saliva mixes with your slick, coating him, delivering layers of pleasure through Azriel, vibrating from his spine to his toes. The wetness of your mouth and the warmth of your hand ease him stroke by stroke into his ecstasy.Â
When Azriel feels his wings seize up and his toes begin to curl, he tightens his fist on the back of your neck, pulling you abruptly off of his cock. You glance back up at him, appreciating his delirious arousal, his flexing thighs. His inked chest shines, slick with exertion, his whole form sharpened into an enticing point fit just for you.Â
âSorry,â he wheezes. âI didnât want to finish like this, I want to feel you.âÂ
You nod, biting your lip.Â
âThis isnât over,â you promise in a whisper to his furiously hard member, placing one last tender kiss at the base of his cock. He shudders at the abrupt touch, and you laugh at your own antics. His eyes shine with humor and lust.Â
âCome here,â he begs, pointlessly, since he pulls you up to his lap effortlessly, and you offer no resistance. Your bent knees rest on either side of his thighs, your cores separated by mere inches as you straddle him, your feet coming to rest against his shins. He presses kisses into your mouth, jaw, and collarbone in manic succession, your hands coming to tangle in his hair.Â
âFuck. Donât tease now,â you chastise him as his mouth finds your nipple, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, your back arching instinctively into his touch.Â
âWhat do you want from me?â he retorts, continuing his biting caresses.Â
âI want you to fuck me, Azriel,â you order, emphasizing your words with a sharp tug on his dark locks. He snarls against your chest, hips bucking involuntarily.Â
âI thought you liked putting in some work, baby. You sure seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me just now,â he taunts. Â
âYou need me to do the work, huh?â you muse, and his motions pause at your jab. âFine by me,â you sigh, swiftly gripping his length and sliding over him before he can comment. His head whips up from your chest, fiery response dying in a whimper at the sensation. You notch him at your entrance, pausing to make sure he approves your actions.Â
He catches your look, but instead of replying he takes advantage of your hesitance to grab your hips and rub himself against your folds, both of you groaning at the delicious feeling of your collision.Â
âCome on, baby. If youâre so tough, have your way with me,â he coaxes, the brazen words lacking any real bite as he strains beneath you. With shaking hands, you reach between your bodies, your skirt ridden up again to fully expose your dripping core, where you finally guide him to your entrance. His head falls into your shoulder as you take him in, moaning noisily as you adjust to his size and girth.Â
âShit,â you pant, overwhelmed on all fronts between his groans nuzzling into your neck, his strong hands grabbing at your hips, and his delicious length stuffing you so completely.Â
âBaby. Oh, angel,â he chokes, equally impaired with pleasure.Â
You shift your hips tentatively, gasping. He throws his head back in bliss, his hands tightening on your hips.Â
âYou feel so good around me. You feel so good,â Azriel chants.Â
His eyes squeeze shut as he rides the waves of euphoria from you swiveling in his lap. As absorbed as he is with his own pleasure, heâs still acutely aware of your bodyâs every response. Your breathy whines and moans, your clenching walls, your stuttering hips. You find a rhythm rocking against him, not so much thrusting as grinding, but your choking walls and the spectacle of your chest bouncing in his line of sight are doing it for him just fine.Â
âThatâs it. Use me, baby,â he urges, moaning filthy encouragements as you ride him.
When your hips start to falter, he coos in sympathy, seeing your frustrated need. He uses his hands to guide your hips over him, leaning back so he can angle thrusts to meet each motion.Â
Your body feels like itâs fully alive, awakened by his actions. He meets your urgency with an unrelenting pace. His concentration is dead set on where your bodies join, watching his cock disappearing into you over and over. He loves this feeling, of giving himself over to you, using his body to create pleasure instead of pain.Â
âLet me hear you. Is this what you needed, huh, baby?â he coaxes.Â
The familiar burning sensation builds in your abdomen. When he hears your cries pitch higher, your restraint spent, he knows youâre close. It takes all your concentration to meet his blistering kiss as he fucks into you at a frenzied pace. You cry into his mouth as one of his hands comes to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure deep into your core. There isnât an inch of your body unaffected by his assault. You feel the pull of pleasure even in your teeth as it burns in your thighs and licks up your spine.Â
The pressure in your core builds until one particularly hard thrust has you seeing stars behind your eyelids, bringing your release crashing over you.Â
He fucks you through it, concentration moving to your face, to see every stage of your satisfaction play out. The severity of his gaze only heightens your sensitivity as you ride out your second orgasm of the night. You might have to give him an award or something if he keeps this up. Youâre still shaking when his hands release your hips to rest on your thighs, stroking them in reassurance while you catch your breath. You feel him still hard inside you. Youâre not sure what else youâre in for tonight, but you know your tenure on top is just about over, your stamina exhausted. He must see it written on your face because a lazy grin spreads over his stupidly charming face, his thriving male ego on full display.
âDonât start,â you blush.Â
âWhat? I didnât say anything,â he laughs, looking at you playfully from under his eyelids. You see a shadow slipping away from his ear. The fuckers! Have they been informing him on your feelings all night, telling him exactly what will drive you crazy?
âOkay, big boy,â you drawl. âHow about using that endless stamina for a good cause,â you suggest wolfishly, signalling that youâre not waving a white flag just because you got a little winded.Â
âIs this arrangement contingent on the boots staying on, orâŚ?â he searches, quirking a brow, still stroking your thighs that rest atop his. Your heart leaps, you totally had forgotten that you were still half dressed. Youâre still wearing your skirtâ well, you suppose wearing would be a generous description, seeing how it had scrunched into a thin band at your waistâ but your boots were decidedly still on your feet. Youâre surprised that your aggressive physical activities hadnât dislodged them.Â
âYeah, sorry. Boots stay on,â you shrug, swallowing a laugh. âWhy? Arenât you into them?â
Azriel laughs at that, and the sound and its vibration remind you that heâs still very much buried inside you. You clench around him and he groans, capturing your hip with a hand as he twitches.
âIâm very much into them,â he sits up fully to murmur into your cheek, humor muted by his evident desire. âYou look dead sexy. I just wonder if they might hinder our joint agility,â he begins tactfully.Â
You laugh at his diplomatic words, and he chuckles along.Â
âI canât believe they didnât come off!â you admit.Â
He laughs at that, and soon the two of you are reduced to howling tears at how long youâve managed to keep your shoes on. He wipes his eyes, shaking his head and mumbling about what an inappropriate yet compelling endorsement you could make for the responsible cobbler, sending you into another fit as he lifts you off of him, perching you on the edge of the cushions.Â
He stands to pull the laces of your stomper boots, delicately slipping them from your feet, your socks following, his hands rubbing soothing patterns along your calves. His actions are innocent, yet the look in his eye is anything but. He looks ravenous, but heâs giving you a moment. Youâd be lying if you said you didnât enjoy this bit as much as what came next. Azriel just made you come twice and then belly laugh in quick succession. You know heâs fully employed too. He is turning out to be a man of many useful talents. This is dangerous territory.Â
âI am a little sad to see them go,â he sighs, jokingly, once your shoes were finally sitting on the floor next to him.
âYou know, if you want me to wear them in your bed, you could just fly me all around the city so they never get dirty,â you joke from your position laid on the cushions. He rolls his eyes, but heâs beaming at you as he comes to stand between your thighs, and you canât help but grin back. Itâs been a while since youâve had this much fun with someone. Nor is it lost on either of you that youâd just implied you might end up in his bed again. You donât mind the admission, even as it hangs in the air. Heâs a spymaster anyways, one way or another heâd figure out what youâre thinking.Â
âNoted,â is all he replies to that. âLift your hips for me, angel.âÂ
You feel your breathing hitch, affected in unladylike ways by his respectful words. You lift up slightly so he can slip your skirt down from your waist.Â
The simple movement dissolves the momentary limbo of your activities, and all the passion of the evening returns to you in full effect as you lay nude before him. He leans over you from where he stands, his hulking form and silhouetted wings imposing. His appetite is apparent, his massive length waiting and ready at his abdomen, angry at having been abused without satisfaction. Azriel has been fighting all night, you realize, and now heâs poised to claim his rightful glory.Â
You reach out to pull him towards you. As he crawls over you, his wings flutter shut, as if he means to tuck them safely behind his form for the rest of the night.Â
âDonât you dare put those away!â you huff in frantic offense.Â
âWhat?â
âYour wings!â you exclaim.Â
âMy wings?â he repeats.Â
âIâd like to look at them,â you request, quite nicely, you think, as he settles between your legs.Â
Azriel isnât fooled by your innocent expression. He captures your lips in a bruising kiss, jaw working to claim every inch of fleshy territory. Without warning, his wings flare out, fanning your face with a rush. Your eyes shoot open to see your spoils, the leathery panes blocking the dim light from reaching your entwined forms. Heat rushes through you as you examine them, the thin veins and small scars whispering of stories he has yet to tell. His mouth works along your jaw as you revel in his illustrious form above you, fully claiming you into his world of shadows. He pauses by your ear, scraping his teeth along the sensitive shell before speaking lowly.
âYou think wings and murder are sexy, you keep your boots on while youâre getting fucked⌠My girl is a freak.â Your heart soars at his words.Â
âYour girl?â you question. He freezes in his next kiss, ego vanishing, as if heâs not sure if he should be bashful. âI like it,â you declare. He pulls back to see the honesty of it in your eyes, and you know your face is sporting a twin banner of blush.Â
âOf course you do, you freak,â he says affectionately.Â
Your resounding grin fades into a groan as he runs a scarred hand up the inside of your thigh. He looks at you expectantly, the question in his eyes. Â
âI do think your wings are sexy,â you admit. He snorts, and you know thatâs not the answer he was looking for.Â
 âAre you planning to just lie there, perfect and naked on my bed all night, or are you going to let me fuck you properly?â he huffs out in desperation, not one to be outdone.Â
His hips grind against your thigh in emphasis. He is well and done with your larking.Â
âWell, gods, let me think about it, at least!â you shoot back mischievously.Â
Youâre just toying with him now, but in your defense, he makes it so fun.Â
Azrielâs head falls to your shoulder, growling. But his gnarled hand vanishes from your thigh and his hips pause their motions. You feel a rush knowing that if you decided you were done, he would stop everything, despite his evident need. All night, heâs been so generous with his energy, from defending you back at the bar, to helping you get off as you struggled to ride him. Your pussy throbs at the power heâs offering up to your pleasure, freely and without expectation. You donât quite know why youâre being mean, he certainly hasnât earned it.Â
He looks up at you, his cheeks ruddy, his shining eyes searching, and you find your answer. It was simply empowering to see Azriel, a male usually so meticulous in his presentation, fall entirely apart for you. Everything about him was tantalizing, but watching him wield his historic power for your pleasure was the most grievous indulgence.
âTell me,â he urges, seeing the whirl of emotions on your face.Â
âI need you inside me,â you relent.Â
His growl is the only warning you get before he sheathes himself inside you in one swift movement, relieved to obey your command. Groans fall from both your lips at the feeling of him pressed into you so spectacularly.Â
âOh, oh , Az,â you revel in the feeling.
âThatâs it, baby,â Azriel coaxes.Â
He eases you into it with gentle thrusts, placing kisses down your chest. His pace is slow, languid, like he wants to take his time with you, tearing you apart with precision, thrust by thrust. His hands clutch your hips in an attempt to still your thrashing.Â
âYouâre doing so good for me,â he coos.Â
Your hands are all over, his hair, his shoulders, his arms, urging him to move, move, move. He blows a hot exhale across your breasts where heâs been occupied, steadying himself mentally before looking into your face. What you see only fuels you further. In his gaze is raw desire, desire that heâs keeping carefully controlled as he gives you what he thinks you need. Even buried inside you, he reigns himself in, commanding his passion in preservation of your comfort. His mind is screaming at him to drive faster, so much so that it drowns out your sounds of agreement in his ears. His slow strokes are a torment to you both, a needless sacrifice on his end.Â
Typically, you might appreciate how considerate he was being. But also, typically, you didnât have a male buried inside you while you claw at whatever part of his largeness you can reach. What you need right now isnât his courtesy, what you need is the full force of his passion, unchecked, to do battle with your own. You arenât used to settling for less than what you want, so everything in you feels confident when you pull his face up to yours, noses brushing as he gasps into your open mouth.
âAz. I need more,â you state clearly. His hooded eyes flare as he finally sees the enormity of your fervor, how it matches perfectly blow for blow with his own.Â
âHold on,â he breathes, pressing a kiss to your mouth in acknowledgement.Â
You donât know if he means it literally or not, but youâre taking no chances as you cling to him. He pulls out slightly more, just enough to give him room to angle your leg up, his muscled arm holding your bent knee, allowing his hips unfettered access to your center. The shift has you whining against him, writhing as he gives you exactly what you asked for. Youâve never felt anyone so deep inside you, kindling that burn so deliciously.Â
And then heâs pounding into you at full charge.Â
âCome on, baby, give it to me,â he gasps.Â
In the throes of your pleasure, you note how his chest heaves, though the steadily punishing pace of his hips never falters. Your legs are numb in some places where you had feeling earlier. You chase your high together in an uphill battle, both worn and equally dedicated to seeing this through to its fateful conclusion.Â
âDoing so good for me, angel,â he encourages, and you mumble curses at his tender tone while he sets a brutal rhythm on your cunt. Your hot breath mingles, his forehead pressed to yours, like he needs every part of you to be connected, like when he draws out of you, heâs acutely pained for that moment it takes before heâs enveloped by you again. Watching him is intoxicating. Raw, starved agony tightens the elegant planes of his face as your leg scrapes lightly against the edge of his wing over his shoulder, and he shudders.Â
The contact evidently rouses something deep within him, his shadows writhing impishly along his wings. They slip invisibly over his shoulders, under the canopy of his wings to trace infuriatingly over your torso. One ravishes your breast, phantom pleasure coursing down to meet the brimming well of your desire. Their delight at your convulsing form under their ghostly caress is only matched by Azrielâs own fixation. His stare borders on obsessed, eyes blown out. He blinks, failing to clear his carnal fixation, pressing a maddening kiss to your mouth in drunken bliss, muttering your name like a prayer.Â
âThat feel good, baby?â he grunts.Â
âYes, Azriel, please,â you cry, not even sure what youâre asking for.Â
His pace is ruthless, and, far from quieting your own ache, it's successfully unpinning your every inhibition. It's as if his shadows are scouting every crevice of your being to shake out a thrill from any and every forgotten corner. Something shakes loose deep inside your chest as his brutal magnetism pulls pleasure from you. You set it aside to focus on the ecstasy being painstakingly, greedily delivered to your drenched core. You moan his name at the heat pulsing through you.Â
Azriel looks fucked out, his brows slick with tension and his mouth gaping as he absorbs you with equal adoration. You see your own need reflected in his face, and you feel like youâve taken a hand mirror into a reflecting pool for how endlessly your bliss echoes between you. Itâs mind bending, how it drives you crazy knowing heâs crazy for how he drives you crazyâ you could almost laugh at the absurdity of it if you had any remaining breath. And if it didnât feel so riveting, the symmetry of your hunger. Â
âIâm close,â you hiccup, body heavy with expectation, the smoldering heat growing to a fever pitch as he pummels you.Â
âIâm with you, baby. Iâm right here with you,â he gasps.Â
One of his hands snakes down to encourage your clit with tight, fast circles. His attention, though, is on your face, watching the way elation plays across your features. The added sensation sends you over the edge, your third release blowing through you in scalding waves.
You cry out as your orgasm staggers you, hands blindly tugging his hair, holding him to you as you shatter. The pulsing grip of your cunt pulls him along the edge as he works you with quick thrusts.Â
At the sharp scrape of your nails on his scalp, his own pleasure snaps, waves of bliss cresting over you both in lock step, smoothing twin grooves of delight in your souls. He fucks you through it, his face buried in the side of your neck, his kiss biting with teeth as he tries messily to stifle his groans. The guttural noise of his cries shakes the room, your own heartbeat barely perceptible in its wake. When the quaking stops, he slumps down over you, totally spent.Â
You lay there in a daze for gods know how long, struggling for air together. He presses kisses into your shoulder until your cries quiet down and your breathing comes more easily. Azriel has definitely fucked before, so he doesnât know why his heart is beating so wildly at this encounter, why heâs still greedily tasting your skin, why heâs so reluctant to pull out of you. When he feels like he has it under control, he peeks his head out from your neck. A grin is plastered on his gorgeous face, his hair sticking up in a stupidly charming fashion, his eyes shining with frightening levels of energy and mirth despite his limp form atop you.Â
âI canât believe I found you in a gay bar,â he states. You flick his ear, nose scrunching at his audacity.Â
âYou are ridiculous. Is that really all you have to say?â you accuse breathlessly, still gone soft in a delicious haze.Â
Azriel chuckles, shifting over you, so that his head hovers over yours again.Â
âNo,â he says carefully. He slides his hand to move yours from his hair, bringing it to rest on the cushions above your head, his fingers twining with yours. Your brows furrow at the delicate gesture, youâd blush if he wasnât literally inside you still.Â
âI just thought âholy fuck, please marry me?â might be a little intense to lead with,â he offers, and what you see dancing in his eyes holds too much gravity to be mistaken for pure humor.
Your insides flutter again at his words, dumbfounded.Â
He means it as a joke, but thereâs something in his eyes you wouldnât mind waking up to every day for the rest of your life that feels dangerous. This was a fun, sexy adventure with a fun, oversized Illyrian, you rationalize. Youâd reassess that flicker in your chest again after you were fed, rested, and bathed. Â
Azriel has similar ideas it seems. He slips out of you, your body protesting at the loss. He must sense this because he places a mollifying kiss to your stomach as he gets up from the bed. He returns shortly to find you still splayed out in total content, and hands you a tall glass of cool water. You didnât realize how parched you were until you drank half the glass in several gulps, refreshing your dry throat. Azriel appears again with some towels.Â
He takes the glass when you offer it back, but instead of setting it aside he brings it to his own lips, finishing it off in one long drink. Your mouth goes dry again at the sight. Youâre well and truly fucked if the sight of him finishing your water gets you excited. Itâs not like you hadnât just swapped spit with him in more exciting ways. Youâre certain he notices you staring, but he doesnât comment.Â
âCan I clean you up? Or do you want toâŚâ he gently motions with the damp towel once heâs done torturing you with his pornographic drinking. You allow him to wipe you down, his gentle motions confident and efficient. It makes your body hum in a new way, how he handles you with casual reverence, hands skimming your flesh to check for tender spots before he cleanses there. You see your own glow reflected in him, one of utter contentment.Â
He crawls onto the bed with you, pulling back the blankets and cushions around you in a swaddled sort of cocoon before settling on your chest, his arms wrapping around you, wings coming to rest on either side of your form. You brush his wild hair from his forehead, and he hums as he nudges his head more firmly into your palm. He lets loose a long sigh when you brush your hands through his dark locks, eyes closing in contentment. His sore muscles loosen as he curls into you. Itâs a powerful image, the hulking Illyrian sprawled lazily atop you in utter calm.Â
âBed time,â he declares, much to your amusement. His nose brushes your sternum, and he sleepily kisses your skin before cracking a yawn. His swirling shadows quiet as he drops his guard for the night. Your eyelids begin to sink, despite your determination to memorize your position tangled with him. You swear you hear a whisper in the dark, a wordless plea in your ear, stay . Not that you have much choice with his bulky form practically trapping you against his bed.Â
âGood night, Azriel,â you murmur.Â
Sleep must have taken you seamlessly after that because next thing you know, the cool light of dawn is streaming in his open windows, illuminating the peaceful figure still resting on your chest. You wonder what the protocol for this is, if he expects you to slip out before he awakes. On your occasional hook ups, youâd never slept over before. Usually you would have left after, or woken up in the night and skipped. This time, you didnât have the same avoidant fear marching you out the door.Â
In the night, Azriel had shifted, so now he lay with only one leg slotted between yours, his grip on your waist loosened. You try adjusting your back so that your head can lay more comfortably on his pillowâ his soft and supple pillow, you note. His grip tightens on your waist at your movements, his brows furrowing in irritation in his sleep.Â
A grin blooms on your lips at his unconscious gesture. You relax into his large bed, pride singing in your veins. He was certainly decisive about your spending the night, and now with the prospect of a quiet, intimate morning before you... You know it was an involuntary movement, but all the same. Youâre starting to think he might be into you. And youâre definitely into his mattress, you muse, closing your eyes to submit to the allure of his plush bed. Though itâs his pleasant weight resting over you that really lulls you into sleep.Â
When you wake up later in the full light of morning, you find Azriel watching you with appreciation.Â
âGood morning,â you mumble, feeling your face flush.Â
âGood morning,â he agrees, his voice rough with sleep, pulling you into his chest.Â
Your muscles protest, still sore, but it's a pleasant sting, you decide as you relax into him. You could spend all morning like this, wrapped in his strong arms.Â
âDid you sleep well?â he asks sweetly.
You nod, sleepily praising how comfortable his bed is. Heâs shifted to press you against his firm chest, his hand coming to rest on your back. As you shift to nuzzle into his shoulder, you feel his half hard cock digging into your hip. His words from the night before rise to mind amid the heated memories of your shared activities. My girl , heâd called you. You figure you should act like it. If you work this right, this could be the first of many mornings spent in his bed.
You press your hips into his growing erection, and his eyes flash in warning. The sleep fades from his gaze as his hand at your back holds you in place against him.Â
You begin meaningfully, âI donât have any plans todayââ
âThank the Mother!â Azriel growls, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Warmth flares in your chest at his eagerness. Little do you know how Azriel is plotting similar schemes even as you lose yourselves to the magnetic bliss of your connection. Youâd always been a flirt, but it had never earned you such a glorious reward.Â
âDid you enjoy yourself last night?â you ask teasingly.Â
âYou know I did.â
âWell donât push yourself now, I donât expect you to be able to outdo last night,â you sigh mockingly.Â
His expression unnerves you, the challenge registering on his face in a slow, wickedly sensual smile.Â
âOh, but I intend to.âÂ
_
A/N: THANKS FOR READING!! This is the first fic Iâve ever "published"! I really enjoyed writing Azriel, heâs fun to play with. Also yeah maybe I implied that they were soulmates cause I am a lover and casual isnât in my vocabulary, baby! Let me know what you think, I meant it to be flirty and then smutty and then it became kinda sweet, so hopefully you enjoyed the ride :) Let me know if you want part 2 ??
#pls comment if you enjoyed reading#and if you didnt enjoy reading#keep that shit to yourself baby#azriel smut#azriel fic#azriel#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#upon reflection#i think the title is stupid#but i think its funny so#here we are#ao3 saw it firstttt :P#my writing
891 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake
Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.
He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.
When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.
He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.
However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.
It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.
He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.
When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)
People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.
You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.
"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."
"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."
Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.
"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."
They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.
"Wait, WHAT?"
Naruto Uzumaki
"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"
Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.
Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?
Turns out, that damn fox was right.
After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.
You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.
You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.
"I'm pregnant."
His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.
"You're pregnant."
Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.
"I'm pregnant."
Shikamaru Nara
He really should've seen this coming.
Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.
Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.
He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.
"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."
It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.
But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.
He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.
This was fine.
Not troublesome in the least.
"No, this is... good."
Kakashi Hatake
He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.
He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.
"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"
He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.
The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."
You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.
You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.
"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."
"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."
"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."
He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.
He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.
He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.
But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.
He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."
"Seemed more like panicking to me."
"... shut up."
#naruto#naruto shippuden#naruto x reader#sasuke uchiha x reader#naruto uzumaki x reader#shikamaru x reader#kakashi x reader#sasuke x reader#sasuke uchiha fluff#sasuke uchiha#naruto uzumaki#naruto Uzumaki fluff#naruto headcanons#kakashi fluff#shikamaru fluff#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi hatake#hatake kakashi#uchiha sasuke#shikamaru nara fluff#naruto fluff#skyahri#anime headcanons#kakashi sensei#shikamaru nara#naruto shikamaru#naruto sasuke#naruto kakashi#anime
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problemâa distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
âGood morning, Mr. Riley.âÂ
âItâs just Simon,â he tells you as he takes his card off the counter.Â
The following day, itâs the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. âSheâs kinda pretty, huh?â
âSay it any louder, and sheâll hear you, mate,â he grumbles.
Simonâs not blind; of course, he knows youâre pretty, but he doesnât have time to commit to anything outside of workâeven if you smile at him like youâre happy to see him and how heâll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, itâs that youâ
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think itâs just for him because on the days he doesnât come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
Itâs weird because itâs almost like youâ
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasnât talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again.Â
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
Youâre justâŚheâs not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishesâ
(Simon doesnât know what heâs doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. Heâs dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isnât like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress thatâs probably too light for early spring in Londonâeven though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the tableâand he wishes he wasnât introducing you as his friend.)
But youâ
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gymâs business cardsâitâs weird that we donât have each otherâs numbers, so message me sometime or whateverâand he messages you âheyâ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later.Â
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, itâs better.)
You really areâ
(His house feels too hot, and heâs distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumentalâsomething more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the barâa tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place.Â
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
âCan IâŚwould youâfucking hell,â Simon runs a hand through his hair. âCan I kiss you?â
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissingâhim licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
âIâve wanted to do that for a while,â you mumble, lips brushing his.
âMe too,â and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
âI knew youâd be trouble,â he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
âOh, yeah?â you giggle, leaning into his side.
âYeah,â the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. âA real pain in my ass, love.â
âBut yours.â
This time, he does smile. âYes, but mine.â

Masterlist
#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost imagine#simon riley fluff#cod imagine#cod x reader#cod fic#mw2 x reader#mw2 imagine#.things i write
6K notes
¡
View notes
Note
I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!
I think he's such a golden retriever bf đ like both waysâ sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud
NOW NSFW-WISEE.....
Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane
He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happinessâhes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him
i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.
đ out!!!
đ anon I love your thinking please donât spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMGâŚ.
Sfw headcanons/thoughts
- Now that Iâm thinking of it. I should have known heâd like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.
- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!
- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisukeâs head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated đ. But heâs glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.
- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.
- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when yâall were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you werenât taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair
NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )
- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while heâs deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. Itâs like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.
- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and itâs Daisuke pulling his hair back.
-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).Iâm Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.
âwait!â. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. âNow Iâm readyâ he say cheekily.
- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please Iâll be in debt with you. PLEASE HEâLL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!
ďżź-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while heâs eating you out. Like omg if youâre pulling at his hair moaning. Heâs gonna feel so good about himself knowing heâs pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while heâs eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.
You couldnât take it anymore. Itâs like he couldnât stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didnât know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. âDid I do something wrong.â He asked, genuinely concerned.ďżź
âNo no! Just needed-â. You huffed, âneed..need a moment.â You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. âDid I..â He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. âDid I do good?â He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.
Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.
#mouthwash smut#mouthwashing smut#mouthwash x reader#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke x reader#daisuke smut#mouthwash game#mouthwashing game#mouthwash#mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader
2K notes
¡
View notes