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#every face here suits the personality lol
flyingfabio · 1 year
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we need to bring back the table for press conferences like tell me this ain't top 5 screenshots of all time
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
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Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)
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Dick
He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.
Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.
He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’
Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.
So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.
‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.
‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.
‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.
He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.
Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.
You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Damian
Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.
He thinks them childish unfortunately
However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.
He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.
So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.
This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.
Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.
Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.
However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.
He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.
To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.
He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.
Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.
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harrysfolklore · 6 months
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another instagram prompt with madison beer as face claim but relationship focused please!! 🥺
WELL HELLO THIS IS MY FIRST F1 BLURB 🥹 i’m kinda nervous idk why but i hope you like it! i left this open for a part two so lmk if that’s something you’d like to see
btw this is obviously inspired by taylor and joe breakup and taylor and travis lol, also harry ilysm sorry for making you the villain here, anyways, ENJOY!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | PART TWO HERE
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yourinstagram THE SPINNIN TOUR STATRS IN 10 DAYS 🥲🤍 who am i seeing there??
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ynfan1 SO FUCKING EXCITED
conangray LETS GO 🔥
ynfan2 this is going to be the biggest concert tour in history and i’m so serious
↳ ynfan1 i mean the pre sale broke ticketmaster, three stadium dates on each city sold out. it’s going to be insane
harryfan1 i can’t wait for the boyfriend harry content this tour is going to give us
ynfan3 she’s getting ready to make history
annetwist ❤️❤️❤️
harryfan2 soooo ready to see harry at the vip box on opening night and all the other nights
dualipa an angel 🤍
oliviarodrigo 💘
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harryupdates Harry out in London today !
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harryfan1 MY BUUUUB
ynfan1 what is he doing in london??? the spinnin tour starts today
harryfan2 HARRY GET YOUR ASS TO ARIZONA RN
ynfan2 he’s not attending opening night :(
harryfan3 what is he mad about lol
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yourinstagram 7th night of the spinnin tour done ! houston thank you so much for your love and your loud singing, i’m making the best memories of my life on this tour thanks to you 🤎
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ynfan1 TOUR OF THE CENTURY
conangray this tour changed my life fr
↳ ynfan2 BEST OPENING ACT EVER
harryfan1 okay but WHEN is harry doing his spinnin tour debut
↳ ynfan1 i wonder the same thing 🤔
arianagrande 🖤
charles_leclerc I can’t wait to see the show 🙌🏻
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES ???
↳ charlesfan2 he’s a pop girlie wbk
harryfan2 get your ass to the next show NOW
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//
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liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 109,035 others
people It’s over 💔#YN and #HarryStyles are calling it quits after six years of dating. Tap the link in our bio for the full story.
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harryfan1 WHAT?????
ynfan1 NO WAY
harryfan2 nah i don’t believe this
ynfan2 but what about lover??? delicate ??? pov??? so american ??? golden hour ?? paper rings ?? WERE ALL THOSE SONGS NOT REAL
harryfan3 man im so confused right now, how did this happen
ynfan2 lord she must be heartbroken and she has to continue with the tour performing for 70k people every night
harryfan4 this is clearly fake
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profesionalfangirlie UM HELLO I JUST MET CHARLES LECLERC AT YN’S SHOW !!???? istg i just wanted a refill for my lavender haze margarita and he was there in line too WTF ?? #thespinnintour
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charlesfan1 NO WAY 😭😭😭
ynfan1 THIS IS SUCH A SLAY
ynfan2 yn is a celebrity to celebrities
charlesfan2 HES SUCH A FANBOY
charlesfan3 i need to see him trading friendship bracelets
charlesfan4 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE
ynfan3 he’s about to experience the best show of his life
charlesfan5 THE CONTENT WE DESERVE
ynfan3 WAS HE AT THE VIP TENT??
↳ profesionalfangirlie i think he’s up there in a suite of the stadium with family and friends
↳ charlesfan1 OHHHH
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charlesupdates “I wanted to give YN a friendship bracelet with my number on it, since I knew her shows were all about friendship bracelets. She didn’t want to meet me after the show so I took it personal. Other than that the show was completely out of this world, she’s amazing.” -Charles on attending the Spinnin Tour for Fedez podcast !
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charlesfan1 OMG???
charlesfan2 THIS MAN ISTH
ynfan1 girl wtf why didn’t you want to mee him ? @yourinstagram
↳ ynfan2 i bet it was a timing thing and not her actively not wanting to meet him 🥹
charlesfan3 is he shooting his shot ???? publicly
charlesfan4 NOT CHARLES BEGGING FOR A CHANCE
ynfan3 this would be such a powerful ship… ferrari’s golden boy and the pop princess.. do you see the vision…
↳ charlesfan1 I SO DO
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INSTAGRAM DMS
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liked by charles_leclerc, jacobelordi and 6,398,002 others
yourinstagram last night of the spinnin tour in the us 🥹🥹 you can tell by my fave here that i’m going to miss these crowds every single day. THANK YOU for coming to the shows, singing every lyric and making friendship bracelets, all the memories we made together will stay with me forever 💘 LATIN AMERICA YOU’RE NEXT 🇲🇽🇦🇷🇧🇷
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ynfan1 IM SOBBINGGGGGG
ynfan2 IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT SHOWS
arianagrande easily the best show anyone has ever put on, love you sister 🤎
theweeknd The GOAT 🐐
ynfan3 she finished her stadium tour after getting out of a 6 year long relation and being completely heartbroken. she loves her art more than anything
↳ ynfan1 she can do it with a broken heart because she’s THAT good
charles_leclerc Congratulations, excited for what’s coming next 🙌🏻
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLIE ???
↳ charlesfan2 WHATS GOING ON 😭
ynfan4 harry styles you have nothing on her
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ynupdates YN AND CHARLES LECLERC OUT AND ABOUT TONIGHT !!!
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ynfan1 HUHHHH???
ynfan2 GOOD GOD
charlesfan1 IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING
ynfan3 wow and some people clowned him when he said he wanted to give yn a bracelet with his number
harryfan1 she’s dating someone already ??? wow
↳ ynfan1 she has all the right do it especially after realizing that she wasted 6 years of her life with someone who never made any sacrifice for her
↳ charlesfan1 ntm that charles has done more in what a week??? (commenting on her posts, holding hands in public, not making her run from the paps) than harry did in 6 years
↳ harryfan2 i will always mourn ynrry
ynfan3 IM SOOO HERE FOR YNS WAG ERA
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 9,302,933 others
yourinstagram my first race 🏁 i had the best time with the best people🤍
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ynfan1 OMFGGGGG
charlesfan1 the jacket ????? the bracelet ????? the last pic ????? INSANIYY
dualipa ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
ynfan2 THIS IS SO SERIOUS ALSJAKA
harryfan1 she never posted harry in their 6 years together but she posts dumps about her rebound 😭
↳ ynfan1 as if harry wasn’t an ass who never wanted their relationship to be publicly acknowledged, bffr
ynfan2 IM SO HAPPY FOR HER
charlesfan2 i lowkey love this, charles is proof that persistence is key
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHHH
↳ charlesfan3 I CANT DO THIS
ynfan3 idk if they’re dating but it’s so good to see her proudly attending events and posting about them and not hiding to please the person she’s with
leclerc_pascale Belle 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 MAAAANNNN ITS SERIOUS
lilyhme queenie ⭐️
↳ ynfan1 told ya she was going to befriend all the wags 😭
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yourinstagram and 2,038,766 others
charles_leclerc Perfect race ❤️
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charlesfan1 LOML
ynfan1 perfect bc yn was there so true
arthur_leclerc 🙌🏻
charlesfan2 checo in the back is killing me
ynfan2 HARD LAUNCH YN ON INSTA NOW !!!
leclerc_pascale ❤️
harryfan1 you’ll never be harry
charlesfan3 i need yn on every race now
yourinstagram 😍😍😍❤️‍🔥
↳ ynfan1 HEEEEELP
↳ ynfan2 CONTROL YOURSELF
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charlesupdates Charles and YN in Argentina today !! YN has a show there tomorrow, we love a supportive boyfriend 🥺
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charlesfan1 OMFGGGG
charlesfan2 WE STAN THIS
ynfan1 maannn this is what she deserves, someone who's willing to travel across the globe to support her
↳ ynfan2 i can't believe harry just went to ONE show of the positions tour and we used to think that was the most romantic thing ever
charlesfan3 I KNEWWWW he would be at every show once her tour started again
ynfan3 I CANT WAIT FOR ALL THE CONTENT
charlesfan4 we need a charles cam at the spinnin tour crowd
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ynupdates YN JUST CHANGED THE KARMA BRIDGE TO "KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE PITS COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO ME"
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ynfan1 WTFFFF
ynfan2 SHES INSANE 😭
charlesfan1 LORD PLEASE HELP ME
ynfan3 she's so silly. she's also deranged
charlesfan2 what a time to be alive
charlesfan3 MAN I CANT STOP WATCHING THE VIDEO OF CHARLES REACTION
ynfan4 FRUIT BOY YOURE SO OVERRRRR
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charles_leclerc The Spinnin Tour🤍
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charlesfan1 GOING INSANE
ynfan1 OMG BABYYYYY
leclerc_pascale 💕❤️
ynfan2 FINALLY SOMEONE WHO POSTS ABOUT HER !! AND ATTENDS HER SHOWS !! AND IS SUPPORTIVE !!
charlesfan2 this boy is down BAD
carlossainz55 🙌🏻
ynfan3 i cant believe some people still want her old relationship when we have THIS
charlesfan3 charlie's popstar boyfriend era
yourinstagram thank you for being here 🥺
↳ ynfan1 SHE DESERVES THIS AND MORE
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thepopbuzz YN and Charles Leclerc spotted on a yatch in the Bahamas, the couple seems to be enjoying their days off before they have to go back to touring and racing respectively. Tap the link in our bio for more details 👌
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charlesfan1 AHHHHHHHHH
ynfan1 i love one fairytale couple
harryfan1 trying to rewrite history i see
ynfan2 WE STAN
charlesfan2 that should be me
ynfan3 finally a boyfriend who likes pda
charlesfan3 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
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liked by yourinstagram, arthur_leclerc and 4,027,119 others
charles_leclerc I wanted to take pictures of my girl but she beat me to it
A much needed break
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charlesfan1 STOP THIS
ynfan1 IM SPIRALING
carlossainz55 Enjoy mates 🙌🏻
lilyhme cuties 💓
charlesfan2 THE BOYFRIEND CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR
ynfan2 HIS 🥹 GIRL 🥹
yourinstagram lover booooy ❤️
↳ ynfan3 AHHHH MY HEART
charlesfan3 we love simp charlieeee
ynfan4 i can’t stress how happy this makes me. from running to get in a van to this
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yourinstagram SURPRISE !! my new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT is coming soon 🤍
ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND POETRY
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ynfan1 KAHAIAJAYAABAJAI
ynfan2 WHAT ON EARTH
oliviarodrigo NO WAY ‼️‼️‼️
conangray thank you mother for constantly serving
ynfan3 THE COVER ??? THE NAME ?? THAT LYRIC ??? we’re not ready
charlesfan1 oooohhhh this is exciting
ynfan4 and fruit boy better HIDE
dualipa 🖤🖤🖤🖤
postmalone 🙌🏻
charles_leclerc So proud of you ❤️
↳ charlesfan2 AWEEEEEEES
↳ charlesfan3 i know they just started dating but i hope we get songs about him
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nanamis-angel · 1 month
Text
𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ♡︎
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ You and Suguru have been dating in secret and it hasn't been easy but it's totally worth it. So, while at a party, Suguru slips away to see you, not thinking anyone is around. But just how long does it take Satoru and Shoko to figure out what's going on?
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ suguru x fem!reader, fluff, making out (oop), you and suguru get caught kissing (losers lol), suguru is annoyed, satoru is the annoyer ™, shoko is a girls girl, yaga mention.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 2.1k
𝐚/𝐧 ৹ was literally in class when I got this idea so I started writing it in my notebook. i'm shameless (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y).
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“You could have practically any girl here, Suguru and yet you keep ignoring them all!” Gojo exclaimed at his best friend. The two of them, along with you and Shoko were at a house party of a friend. And despite his flirty personality, he noticed that a lot of the girls their age seemed to flock to Suguru. Yet he ignored their advances every single time.
“I’m just not interested,” Geto replied, putting his hands in his pockets.
Satoru scoffed. “C’mon, you can’t possibly be serious. We’re at a party, have some fun! It’s not like Yaga is breathing down our necks right now or anything.”
But again, Suguru shook his head. “Knock yourself out, I’ll pass.” He shrugged it off.
Up until a couple of months ago, the two boys would go out and meet plenty of girls and would just have fun. But as of late, Suguru had just been ignoring any girls who came his way. Politely, of course, but he always made sure that they knew he was simply uninterested. Gojo would watch as Suguru would turn them away, his jaw agape. He simply couldn’t understand it.
Truth was, Suguru had been dating you for the past couple of months but the two of you had mutually decided to keep it a secret for the first little bit. You were still navigating relationships and you wanted that aspect of privacy. Suguru, of course, wanted to give it to you. But that did make seeing each other quite difficult.
At first, Suguru had no desire to attend these parties anymore. Knowing that he’d be approached by the girls there. But Satoru begged him every time, not knowing about his relationship with you. You didn’t want Suguru to miss out on the fun and told him to go anyway. So, he did. He’d just turn away any girl who’d come his way.
Especially since you wanted to keep things on the down low, he couldn’t just tell these girls that he had a girlfriend without the possibility of the word getting out to your friends.
Satoru glanced at two girls who had their eyes set on him. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged off before putting on a flashy grin and walking towards the girls.
The moment Satoru was distracted, Suguru let out a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he groaned. “That should keep him busy for a while.”
Now was finally his time to slip away—to slip away and find you. You had wandered off with Shoko ten minutes ago and he was already itching to see you again. He pulled out his phone and texted you.
“Where are you and Shoko?”
Moments later, your text popped up on his screen. “Don’t know where Shoko went but I’m down near the bathroom.”
Suguru smiled at your message—finally, he could just be with you alone, even if it was just for a minute. He made his way through the house, ignoring anyone and everyone he walked past. He just wanted to see you and he was determined to do so.
Turning around the corner, Suguru saw you in the hallway, leaning against one of the walls and his face lit up. Shoko was nowhere in sight, and neither was anyone else, just you. He understood you wanted to keep the relationship a secret but boy did it make things hard sometimes.
“There you are,” He said, walking up to you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, and his chin was propped up on your shoulder. “Felt like I was going to suffocate back there.” He mumbled.
You chuckled a little. “That bad, huh?” You asked him with playful empathy.
Suguru nodded his head. “Satoru can’t take a hint that I’m not interested in any of the girls here. But I can’t just outright say why.” He sighed. Keeping your relationship a secret was hard—especially from his best friend.
Mr. “Six eyes sees all, nosey, and in everyone’s business Satoru Gojo” was hard to keep a secret from. Especially when he didn’t understand why Suguru was so uninterested in the girls around him all of a sudden.
There was no rule in school saying you couldn’t date other students—however, Yaga viewed relationships in school as a distraction and while if he found out you and Suguru were together, he couldn’t do much about it, he would just make it very obvious that he didn’t approve. Which in turn, would just make things awkward.
So, all of this together was the reason why your relationship was so private and secret.
“But now… I don’t have to deal with any of these pesky people.” Suguru grinned down at you. Within seconds, he pulled you into one of the rooms right by the bathroom, just so he could kiss you in private—away from everyone else, hoping nobody would come stumbling across the two of you.
Putting far too much faith that no one would, Suguru didn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he got straight to it, not wasting any time by pressing his lips against yours. You were a little taken aback by the sudden kiss and his eagerness but you reciprocated with fervor.
It had been hard having to sneak around all the time to do something as easy and simple as kissing; like conveniently going to the bathrooms around the same time while in class—or saying you were going to get some of the cursed weapons from the shed and Suguru would offer to “come help” you every time.
Needless to say, he was making up for all of the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. He understood and respected your wishes to keep things private but boy were there enough times when he wanted to kiss you, no matter who was around.
His hands slipped from your back, down to your hips, giving them a firm but gentle squeeze. The only time you pulled away was to catch a breath, only for you to reconnect your lips with his moments later. With his hands still on your hips, he pulled you closer, kissing you harder.
Suguru was a great kisser—granted you had no one to compare him to since he was your first boyfriend but he made you feel alive every single time. He was the epitome of an amazing boyfriend. Respectful, sweet, with just the right amount of playfulness. You swore you could love him forever.
You don’t even remember when you fell for him but you were so glad you did.
But before you could continue, you heard a very familiar voice near the doorway, which caused you both to freeze right in your tracks. “Am I interrupting something?”
It was Shoko, standing in the doorway with a little mischievous grin on her face. You finally pulled away from Suguru, your face as red as a tomato and your eyes as wide as ever. “S-Shoko! Where—how’d you get here?” You asked, stumbling over your words.
“Smoke break in the bathroom,” She said, holding up a cigarette.
Of course, a smoke break. In the bathroom. In the bathroom right next to the room, you were just making out with Suguru in. Suguru mentally cursed himself for not closing the door all the way. At least that would’ve given you a second or two to pull away from each other and make things look normal.
“So, how long has this been going on?” Shoko asked, clearly not giving up on her curiosity.
“Um,” You looked at the ground for a moment. “About three and a half months…”
Shoko looked a little surprised. “Wow, that long? I always assumed something was going on between the two of you but I didn’t know you were together—especially for that long already.” She replied. It was decently impressive, given how strict and nosey Yaga was. Not to mention how nosey Satoru was. “And whose idea was it to keep this a secret for so long?”
Suguru pointed at you almost immediately and Shoko let out a snort at his quickness, provoking you to roll your eyes. Shoko’s eyes moved to Suguru. “And just where is Satoru?” She asked, knowing that the two of them were practically attached at the hip on nights like these.
Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s occupied talking to some girls who were flirting with him earlier.” He answered, feeling slightly bad that he had just dipped. “I took that as a chance to come find [name].”
Shoko’s lips tugged into a grin as she looked you up and down; your lips were still slightly swollen from the passionate kisses you had just shared. “I can see that.” She teased.
Shoko had been your best friend ever since attending school but for some reason, you wanted to die of embarrassment. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a little ball and blip out of existence. It was pretty embarrassing when you were caught making out with someone, even if it was your best friend who caught you.
“Honestly? I’m just impressed you two managed to keep this a secret for so long.” She said, crossing her arms. “Yaga-sensei is practically breathing down our necks most days and Gojo is awfully nosey.”
“Trust me, it hasn’t been easy,” Suguru muttered under his breath, earning a quick glance from you.
“You’re not going to tell Yaga, are you?” You asked Shoko. Shoko wasn’t a snitch—you knew that much but there was a little anxiety in the back of your mind that word might somehow get out to your teacher and make things awkward in places like the classroom.
“You won’t hear a word from me,” Shoko replied.
You let out a relieved sigh and smiled but it got you wondering why you were even anxious to say something about your relationship before. You reached out and your fingers laced with Suguru’s and he squeezed your hand.
However, just moments later, you heard footsteps coming from behind Shoko and towards the doorway to the room. It was Satoru, stumbling over after hearing your voices. “Is Suguru over here? He just disappeared.” He said, his voice slightly dazed.
But his slight daze immediately went away when he saw you standing right next to Suguru, your hand in his. “Ooooohhh what’s going on here?” He teased, leaning his arm on Shoko’s shoulder. It was pretty obvious what was going on. He had observed enough, and Suguru had talked about you enough to know that you liked each other at the very least.
Shoko rolled him off her shoulder and you narrowed your eyes at Satoru. You knew it was practically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut about certain things and you weren’t taking any chances.
“Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut.” You said firmly. You almost sounded like a mother scolding a young child.
“Okay fine,” He groaned, knowing there was no use in fighting you. He could tease or annoy Suguru all day but you were definitely not the girl he wanted to cross. You were not as forgiving as your boyfriend was. “How come I’m the last one to know about this though?” He looked at Suguru, feigning humorous offense.
Suguru began to walk towards the door, your hand still in his. There was no use in trying to hide anything around Shoko and Satoru anymore, so why would he? “Because you have trouble keeping quiet about certain things.” He replied to Satoru as he passed by him. “AKA you have a big mouth.”
Shoko just snickered, following you and Suguru out of the room. “What? What do you mean?” Satoru exclaimed, following behind the three of you. “I can keep a secret! I promise. C’mon you guys I’m not that bad!”
“Name one secret you’ve kept,” You said, looking back at him over your shoulder.
Satoru hesitated as if he was trying to think of one he could say. But then he crossed his arms and turned his nose up. “Well, I can’t say them because they’re a secret, obviously.”
Although this was obviously not true, it earned around of laughs from the three of you as you returned to the party. Even though this wasn’t how you planned your night to go, part of you was quite relieved that you no longer had to hide your relationship with Suguru around Shoko and Satoru. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders.
And Suguru? He was the most relieved out of all of them.
And he definitely kissed you a lot that night.
1K notes · View notes
adancingalien · 2 months
Text
𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader
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summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it
warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.
word count: 3.9k
note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting
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It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you. 
Marriage.
You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice. 
Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.
Benjicot Blackwood.
Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.
And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky. 
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You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are. 
Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.
He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.
“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”
As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.
“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”
Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.
“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.
“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”
The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.
His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”
“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.
Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.
“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”
You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.
“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”
“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.
Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”
“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”
You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.
“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”
Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.
“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”
Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.
“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”
“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.
You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter. 
“I can't Benji.”
“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”
“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”
Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man. 
It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.
“I'll just take you then!”
Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.
“What.” You can simply find no other words.
Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield. 
“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”
“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”
“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”
“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”
He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.
“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”
He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.
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It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.
It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair. 
You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.
“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”
At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.
“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”
You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration. 
“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”
“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”
You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.
“I would have your child.”
Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.
“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”
“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”
At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.
“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat. 
“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.
“You have done it to me many times.”
“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.
“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”
“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.
Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly. 
“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”
“You think I care what others say of me?”
“I think you will care when it happens.”
“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.” 
You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.
“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”
Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.
“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”
“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”
At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.
“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”
At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path. 
“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”
“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”
“I am ready.”
A coy smile spreads across your face.
“Let me convince you.” 
At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.
His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip. 
His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips. 
It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.
“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.
 He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.
“What you grinning about him?”
“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”
His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again. 
“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”
You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.
“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.
It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.
“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”
You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.
“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”
“You have me sweet one, you have me.”
You pull roughly on his hair at his words.
“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”
His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.
“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”
Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.
“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”
At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.
“Stay.”
A simple command that he follows without question.
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pretzel-box · 2 months
Note
I love you writing! Could you do something with jealous Sebastian?
A joke too much
words: 1,3k
status: non-proof read
tags: established relationship, sebastian is jealous, random nameless guy to fill in for the plot, comfort & bad diving suit jokes
sebastian might be a bit ooc but that's nothing new lol
Despite all the horrible things that had happened so far in the drastic depths of the Hadal Blackside, you were more certain than ever that hardships are easier to overcome with a group of co-workers—or, in this case, familiar victims of the expendable project that Urbanshade had set up to retrieve a simple crystal.
One of those people was a fellow inmate who shared a punishment similar to yours, which made it easier to bond over the shared misery. Their sarcastic way of lightening up every dark situation was a refreshing change of pace amid all the horrors and violence that usually surrounded your group.
"I would have worked harder on my bikini body if I knew I’d end up here," the fellow prisoner joked, gesturing to the basic diving suit Urbanshade had issued as minimal equipment. The ill-fitting suit clung awkwardly to his frame, adding a touch of absurdity to an otherwise grim situation.
"Ah yes, these diving suits definitely highlight all the right curves," you hummed back in amusement, trying to suppress a grin.
The lighthearted banter continued as you both navigated the dim, foreboding corridors. The small, wholesome moments of connection were a welcome reprieve from the relentless tension. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the growing dread at bay, if only for a little while.
Eventually, you found yourselves standing before Sebastian's signature vent—a crude entrance that had become all too familiar. With a quick push, the piece of metal flew across the dark floor, clattering noisily. From the other side, Sebastian's disinterested voice echoed in the narrow passage.
"Welcome back, you... and you," he muttered, his tone flat as his ear fins twitched slightly, betraying his annoyance. His gaze flicked to the person next to you, clearly sizing them up. "Another day, another poor selection of team members, huh? Shame I don’t sell good ones either."
His joke, dripping with sarcasm, didn’t go unnoticed, but it didn’t have the desired effect either. You could see the faint lines of irritation on his face when he noticed your unimpressed expression. His usual wit seemed to fall flat in the current circumstances, and even he seemed to sense it.
"Really, Sebastian?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your new companion stifled a chuckle, but you could tell they were a bit wary of the sea-serpent’s mood.
Sebastian sighed, leaning back slightly as if trying to shake off the tension. "What can I say? The company down here isn’t exactly what I’d call inspiring," he retorted, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. He glanced between you and your new friend, his irritation giving way to something softer, almost like concern and you didn't missed the way his tail moved, showing how bothered he actually is without speaking it out loud.
“Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to send us down here with nothing but these glorified wetsuits?” Your team mate joked trying to get the comfortable atmosphere from earlier back by continuing his joke, shaking his head in disbelief. “If I knew I’d be stuck in a metal box at the bottom of the ocean, I might’ve packed something a little more comfortable.”
You chuckled, trying to ease the palpable tension. “At least you’re making it work,” you said, playfully nudging him with your foot.
Sebastian’s ear fins twitched at the sound of your laughter, and own claw-like fingers digged themself uncomfortably into his own palm. Without a care, he spoke, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “Some of us don’t have the luxury of laughing at this situation.”
Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Sebastian’s mood. He pushed off the wall and took a step closer to you, a lighthearted smile still on his face. “Hey, we’re all just trying to make the best of it, right? No harm in keeping things a little less... bleak.”
Sebastian finally faced him directly, his eyes locking onto your friend with an intensity that made the room feel even smaller. “If you’re so focused on keeping things light, maybe you should find somewhere else to do it.”
The words were laced with a possessiveness that took both you and your friend by surprise. The room fell into a heavy silence as Sebastian’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable. “Or is this how you’d rather spend your time?”
You swallowed hard, sensing the unspoken conflict. “Sebastian, we’re all stuck in this together. We don’t have to turn on each other.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stuck together, sure. But don’t pretend like this is just another day at the office. We’re not exactly a team, are we?”
Your friend cleared his throat awkwardly, realizing he was caught in the middle of something much deeper than he’d anticipated. “Look, maybe I should just... give you two some space,” he suggested, glancing between you and Sebastian.
Before you could respond, Sebastian stood up and slithered across the room, positioning himself between you and your friend, his tall frame blocking the view. “Yeah, maybe you should,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.
The air in the room was thick with tension as your friend hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Right. I’ll, uh, catch up with you later,” he mumbled before slipping out of the room by crawling back throug the vent behind him.
Once the two of you were alone, Sebastian didn’t move, standing with his back to you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. You could feel the cold emanating from his body, but there was also something else—a vulnerability he rarely showed.
“Sebastian,” you started softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”
He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t turn around either. His voice was low when he finally spoke. “Because I’m tired of watching someone else take care of you when I’ve been the one keeping you alive all this time.”
His words hit you like a wave, and you suddenly understood the depth of his jealousy. It wasn’t just about the other guy—it was about everything you’d been through together, everything he’d done to protect you. He was scared of losing you, of not being enough and being replaced with someone you just met.
You stood up and stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back. “I know, Sebastian. I know you’ve always been there for me. And I’m grateful for that. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained from his body. Slowly, he turned in your arms, his cool hands resting on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression softening. “I just... I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here.”
Sebastian’s gaze searched yours, and after a moment, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms and tail around you in a protective embrace. The coldness of his body was no longer unsettling; instead, it was a familiar comfort.
For a while, you just stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the room, the earlier tension dissolving into a peaceful silence. Finally, Sebastian pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his breath cool against your skin. “I didn’t mean to get so... possessive.”
You smiled gently, your hands resting on his chest. “It’s okay. Just... remember that we’re in this together. Both of us.“
Sebastian nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Sweetheart."
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feninina · 1 year
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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷
therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓
𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁
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It was awkward, to say the least.
You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.
This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.
He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.
Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.
And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.
"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"
Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.
You were landing right in the palm of his hand.
Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.
Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.
You have everything. That was bullshit.
Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.
You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.
It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.
And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.
Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.
It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.
Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.
But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.
You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.
Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.
So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.
It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.
He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.
After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.
One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.
"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"
You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.
You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.
"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"
You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.
That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.
He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.
After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.
You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.
It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.
After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.
You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.
It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.
But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.
You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.
At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.
He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.
"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".
You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.
You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.
Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.
Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.
"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"
He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.
He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.
"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"
The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.
But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.
"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"
That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.
"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"
He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.
You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.
He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.
"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.
It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"
You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.
Bingo.
"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"
It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.
Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.
"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"
Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.
"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"
You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.
A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.
"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.
Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.
"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"
"To be fucked stupid"
It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.
A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.
"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"
He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.
But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.
It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.
His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.
But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.
You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.
“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”
You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.
“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”
You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.
“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”
And maybe he was.
Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.
Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.
You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.
“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.
You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.
He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.
“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”
“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”
You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.
“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.
Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.
He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.
You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.
He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.
“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.
“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”
You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.
“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”
You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.
With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.
“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”
A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.
“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.
You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.
You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.
“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”
He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.
“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”
You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.
Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.
“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”
Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.
“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”
“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.
You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.
“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.
It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.
“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.
You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.
The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.
He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.
But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.
He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.
“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.
You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.
“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”
You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.
“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”
“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?
“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”
You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”
“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”
His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.
But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.
He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.
He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.
“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”
You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.
“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.
In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.
You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.
“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”
“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”
He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.
Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.
“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.
“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”
You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.
“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”
“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”
Then you realized it.
When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.
That was your cure.
His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.
You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.
He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.
He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.
When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.
“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”
You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.
When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.
You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.
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thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)
taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist
if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻
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seventeenreasonswhy · 3 months
Text
SVT Reacts to Their ~Shy~ S/O in a Swimsuit 👙☺️
SFW / Fluff
Just sweet OT13!SEVENTEEN reacting to their shy/self-conscious partner wearing a bathing suit around them. 🥰
Content/Warnings: Fluff!, fem!reader, just pure sweet simping lol
Author's Note: DK's is longer than anyone else's lol sorry I like him the most. I cannot change what's in my heart. But enjoy! This is more of my Sweet!SVT agenda. 💕👼
SEUNGCHEOL
sees you enter the pool area so cautiously and wants to straight up melt into water himself. you’re so cute, it’s unreal. you look so hot, but your innocent way of being so self-conscious makes it even hotter to him??? he would spend the whole day giving you compliments, the smile never ever leaving his face as you blush at being so exposed!
JEONGHAN
doesn’t get why you’re so shy! you’re so beautiful! he loves your swimsuit, and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you how cute and sexy you look, even pulling your arms away when you try to cover yourself up. he believes you have every reason to be confident and proud of your body!
JOSHUA
is so, so soft with you. certified sweetheart right here. he knows that bringing too much attention to you would just make you more nervous, so he tries to act nonchalant to neutralize the anxiety for you. but he finds every opportunity to whisper sweet compliments about how you look!
JUN
thinks its adorable how shy you’re being. he decides to really lean into it and tease you, haha. “oh wow, I didn’t know you would show so much skin,” he says with an eyebrow raised. just seeing the panicked look on your face is so worth it. he loves making you flustered! it’s too cute!
HOSHI
whipped! absolutely positively whipped! this man turns so stupid for you the second that he sees you in your cute bikini lol. it’s like you put him in a trance lmao. you get shy about the way he’s just staring at you beaming nonstop. You playfully tell him to look away but he refuses, only pulling you close to him and touching your exposed waist. He doesn’t care who’s watching, he can’t keep his hands off of you like this.
WONWOO
ugh, so charmed by how shy you are. you’re so beautiful, he makes sure to sincerely tell you how hot and pretty you are in your swimsuit. he wants to instill you with all of the confidence you deserve! he can’t get over your red face and the way you keep looking around all nervous. he wants to kiss you so bad when you’re like this!
WOOZI
also shy!! haha he doesn’t know what to say to you! you’re so cute! but he feels self-conscious about you being self-conscious?? how should he approach you?? he would clumsily compliment you and then get frustrated and say, “never mind!” but you would know that he’s just frazzled. you feel kind of flattered by this reaction, actually, and seeing him also flustered makes you calm down a bit and feel a little more in control of your self-consciousness.
MINGHAO
sees absolutely no reason for you to be so shy! you’re so perfect! how could such a beautiful person not be comfortable in their own skin? he doesn’t get it. he calmly reassures you throughout the day of how beautiful you are, and that you don’t ever need to be uncomfortable in your body around him. he’s so matter-of-fact about it that you start to really relax.
MINGYU
simps soooooo hard as soon as he sees you. “waaahhh,” his jaw just drops at the sight of you lol. you feel so cringe about this, knowing that he’s going over the top and being extra dramatic to help you manage your self-conscious feelings. you really appreciate him being like this, though. “you’re being too nice,” you say shyly, and his face goes completely serious and he’s like “no I’m not. I’m serious, you’re so beautiful it’s crazy.” sweet puppy boy. 😊
SEOKMIN
he’s surprised by how strong of a reaction he has to seeing you like this! something about you being self-conscious while also being so gorgeous and in a bikini... he kind of gets bashful about how overtly hot he finds you! he doesn’t really mean to, but he ends up avoiding looking at you, which you take the wrong way and end up feeling even more embarrassed and self-conscious about. he eventually picks up on this, and then feels so bad! you wander off toward the locker room thinking it would be better to just change into something more comfortable, but he follows you. “oh, sorry,” you say as he catches up to you, stepping in front of you slightly before you get to the door to the showers, “wait,” he says, and then is distracted by how adorable your expression of worry and shyness is, and he ends up biting his knuckle between his teeth you’re driving him so insane! “y/n, seriously...” he says, letting out an exasperated puff of air, “you’re so beautiful, it’s insane. I can’t even look at you, it’s driving me so crazy how good you look.” your face turns beet red and you can’t stop the shy smile spreading across your face as he looks at you for a minute before just grabbing your face and kissing you.
SEUNGKWAN
soooo whipped for how you look and for how cute and shy you’re being! he isn’t used to seeing you like this! most of the time you’re really confident, so this is a new side to you. he feels compelled to compliment you and be really sweet to you because he doesn’t think there’s any reason for you to feel self-concsious about your body. he finds you so hot!! he’d be so touchy and playful, flirting with you and being really openly affectionate. It’s kind of a power dynamic change-up for you two which adds a layer of fun for him. you feel encouraged and relaxed by his sweet behavior.
VERNON
He doesn’t understand why you’re self-concsious at all. telling you that you’re beautiful and that you look amazing is simply stating an indisputable fact to him. he watches you as you gradually relax, not pushing the issue too much because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. plus, being super effusive is not his style. he’s more of the “this-is-just-simply-the-way-it-is” about complimenting you, which kind of disarms your emabarassed feelings!
DINO
ugh, this lil sweetie pie... he would be so affectionate toward you. he would find that perfect line between building up your confidence and not drawing too much attention to your insecurity. he would also be kind of turned on? lol. he would keep it cool around others, but he would probably bring up how hot you looked to him after the fact.
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Text
Rafey - Rafe x Reader FLUFF
Req: I am in need of rafe fanfics so here I am requesting …. I was wondering if you could write something about rafe being really soft when it comes to reader and being completely different from his usual mean personality and just being completely whipped for her?? Hope this is alright :)
Rafe x Reader est. relationship
Warnings: Language, violence, alcohol and drug use, rafe making sexual innuendos lol
Summary: You witness Rafe's animosity towards others and notice the difference in his treatment of you.
SOFT! RAFE IS MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE.
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Summers on The Cut were the absolute best. Parties every weekend, the beach with your friends, all the time in the world with your boyfriend, Rafe. The Kook life suited you well.
You stepped into Tannyhill, the blast of the AC immediately cooling your body down from the hellish weather of the OBX. Rafe and Sarah had come together, a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence, to plan that weekend's party. Rose and Ward had taken Wheezie out of town for her birthday, leaving the elder Camerons alone in the big house. Sarah was in the kitchen, stirring a big cooler of some sort of beverage you guessed you would be indulging in later that night.
"Hey Y/N!" She smiled at you. "Rafe is out getting some stuff for tonight, but he should be back soon!" You nod and cross to the counter where she is.
"Alright." You look around the big room. "Do you need help with anything? Should I-"
"Could you get the ice from the freezer?" You smile.
"Got it."
Fifteen minutes later, and a few sips of Sarah's concoction later, you are giggling on the sofa.
"No way."
"No, I'm serious. After he got his wisdom teeth out, he kept asking to watch The Backyardigans. It was hysterical. Wheez got so many good videos of him." You simply couldn't contain your laughter at the thought of Rafe watching a kids' TV show.
"Yeah yeah. It's hysterical." His voice rang out from behind you and Sarah's eyes went wide as they met yours, a laugh threatening to escape from her lips. You, however, kept giggling.
"Rafey... How often do you watch The Backyardigans?" He rolled his eyes and set his hands on the back of the couch, bending down to meet your height.
"It was a one-time thing, baby." You giggled again and Rafe smiled the tiniest bit. "Geez, how much have you had to drink?" He sat up, running his hand through his hair, which you were thankful for. After you had kept stealing his gel, Rafe left his hair natural, which you were very thankful for.
Sarah started laughing again, which made you start laughing.
"Not a lot!" He rolled his eyes and turned away from the two of you, going to the kitchen to finish preparations. Sarah suddenly gasped and tapped your shoulder repeatedly. "D'ya wanna get ready with me? It will be so fun." You immediately nod.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Sarah jumps off of the couch reaching her hand out for you.
"C'mon!" You grabbed her hand and let yourself be pulled in the direction of the stairs before Rafe's voice stopped you.
"Hold on ladies. I'd like to talk to my girl before you leave me all alone." Sarah giggles again before running up the stairs. You smile and turn to Rafe, jumping a bit in shock when you see that he is already in front of you, his hand on the wall beside your head.
"Hi." You whisper.
"Hi." He whispers back. You grin at him, which makes him smile.
His unoccupied hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face before he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
"I bet you're gonna look beautiful tonight. Have fun with Sarah and holler if you need anything." He gives you a real Rafe smile and you return an even bigger one.
Hours later, you were riding on the buzz of Sarah's tasty drinks and some weed. You felt great, the light blue dress you chose for the night fell just below your bottom, something that Rafe had noticed the moment you had walked down the stairs.
He had been keeping an eye on you all night, how could he not with that fucking dress? You looked like you were having a good time with Sarah and the rest of your friends, smiling at you from afar.
"Yo, Rafe!" Kelce clapped him on the shoulder. "Special delivery from Barry." The mention of the drug caught Rafe's attention quickly and he grinned at Kelce.
"Where?" Kelce jerked his head behind him and began to walk away. Rafe turned his head back to where you were and decided you'd be fine on your own for a bit. He met Kelce and Topper in a spare guest-room. The white power clumped on the table made Rafe's heart pound in anticipation. The three Kooks indulged in the drug, making their noses burn and heads spin.
Rafe left the room and made his way back to the party, rounding a corner when a touron bumped into him.
"Hey man! Watch where you're going. Asswipe." The dark haired guy spat out. With the drug mixed with Rafe's temper, the guy was on the floor in an instant.
"The fuck did you just say to me?" Topper and Kelce were right behind Rafe, amused looks on their faces. The party had quieted down, eyes and ears on Rafe and the kid on the floor below him.
You pushed your way to the front of the crowd, staring with wide eyes as Rafe's body loomed over the touron.
"Dude! what the fuck?" The guy scrambled up onto his feet, pushing Rafe back with as much force as he could. "Do you wanna fight?"
Rafe's dark laugh could be heard over the music.
"Awe dude's gone and fucked up." Topper said, coaxing a laugh out of Kelce.
Rafe smirked, pushing the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows.
"Won't be much of a fight dude." Rafe's fist collided with the guys face seconds later, sending him back onto the floor. Gasps sounded throughout the room.
"Rafe!" You screamed as he bent down to deliver another blow. And another.
Rafe managed to control his anger and picked the touron up, clutching him by his shirt.
"Get the fuck out of my house." The touron wasted no time scrambling out of Tannyhill and seconds later, the party was back in full-swing, like Rafe hadn't just beaten a tourist up.
Kelce and Topper patted Rafe on the back as he inspected his hands.
"Rafe." The prior actions had sobered you up almost completely. Their heads snapped to yours and Rafe gave you another one of his rare smiles. You fought the urge to smile back. "Come with me. Let me help you." You glared at Kelce and Top as they giggled at Rafe nodding and following you out of the room like a puppy.
The cocaine had made Rafe hyperfixate on you. Your pretty face, your sparkling eyes, the slight pout of your lips while you cleaned off his bloody knuckles.
"Hi, baby." He whispered. You were standing in between his legs, with him on the counter in his bathroom.
"Hi." You didn't look at him when you replied, too focused on fixing him up and too mad to meet his gaze. That is until Rafe started giggling.
"Well isn't this a switcheroo." Your head jerked up at Rafe's odd choice of words.
"What?" He's grinning at you again and the sight makes your heart race.
"Usually I'm in between your legs." Your head drops in exasperation and you take a deep breath.
"Jesus, Rafe." You refocused back on his hand, cleaning it up before wrapping it with bandages.
"We could make that happen, if you want..." His voice is just above a whisper. You are waiting for a giggle to follow but the room is silent. You look at him and his eyes are wide and pupils blown.
"Rafe..." You take his head in your hands. "Are you high?" A sheepish look wipes across his face.
"Only a little bit." His strong arms wrap around your torso, pulling your body closer to his. His head drops to your shoulder. "Mmmm. Yof snel go." His words are muffled and you stifle a laugh?
"What?" His head pops up a little.
"You smell good."
"Thank you, Rafe." His head pulls back so his eyes can meet yours, a frown present on his handsome features.
"Stop calling me that."
"Rafe? Baby that's your name." He shakes his head.
"You haven't called me Rafey all night." He pouts and you smile.
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes, please." Even though you hate Rafe's use of drugs, you do enjoy this side of Rafe that comes out after he indulges in it.
"Aright, baby." You grab his hand to pull him off of the counter but he doesn't budge. "C'mon big guy." He shakes his head.
"Not until you say it." You set your hands on your hips as you stare at your boyfriend, Rafe Fucking Cameron, the scariest Kook of them all who just fucking broke a kids nose, is sitting on a counter in front of you, acting like a baby and begging you to call him by his nickname.
"Then I guess you're gonna have to be nice, Rafe." His eyes narrow.
"You're being mean. I'm always nice." You roll your eyes. "To you." He reaches his hands out and pulls you back to his embrace. "Please?" His eyes are like a puppies and you can't hold back your smile.
"Rafey..." Out comes another true Rafe grin which makes your heart soar.
"Say it again." His fingers brush your sides as he looks at you expectantly. Your hands reach up to push his hair back.
"Rafey." He thanks you with kisses. Your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips.
"Stop! Ew!" You are a giggling mess. You manage to push the large man away from your body, trying to catch your breath.
You look at him, standing by the door, watching you with a small smile.
"What?"
"I love you." His words go straight to your heart.
"I love you." He pulls you in for a real kiss, one that makes you melt into his arms.
The two of you leave the bathroom hand-in-hand.
"Did you call me 'big guy' ?"
"Shut up."
THIS MADE ME SMILE SO MANY TIMES!
Enjoy!
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thealbatrovss · 29 days
Text
ghosts in the leaves // worst wolverine x reader
summary: you’ve been stuck in the void for years, and logan doesn’t even seem to care.
one shot: ANGST, then fluff of course. I love a sadass story with a happy ending. swearing lol. suggestive material. This is my favorite one I’ve written so far. Enjoy!!
word count: 1k+
masterlist
He was too busy drinking to notice your silent pleading.
You and Logan sat against the rocky wall of your hideout base. The rest of the group of forgotten heroes were planning the final showdown with Cassandra in the next room over.
They left the two of you alone, noticing the tension growing more and more intense. Logan tried to protest, but they shut him out. He wouldn’t stop grumbling to himself about it. That, you noted, hadn’t changed about him.
Wade would occasionally poke his head out from behind the wall, hoping the reunited couple would get back together already. He loved jumping into other peoples business, you noticed. He seemed like a troublemaker.
Johnny would’ve really loved this guy.
You still didn’t understand why Logan was refusing to talk to you. He looked like hell, but so did you. Did he even care?
You just wanted to wipe the blood from his suit and the dirt from his face. Tell him about the hell you’ve been through down here. Ask him about the hell he’s been through back home.
But Logan would rather gargle piss than talk to you at all. That, you were beginning to realize.
He wouldn’t even look you in the eye. He only looked at you when he first arrived. That familiar glow returned to him at that moment. You thought you saw the love of your life return to you right then and there, eyes and mouth wide open. But by the time you ran over to him, throwing your arms around his body, tears streaming down your face, he was pushing you off him and opening a bottle of bourbon.
You could see him fighting the urge to open another one. He balanced it on his hand, and spun the bottle on the floor like it was a game. Guess he won by the fake smile on his face as he placed the lukewarm drink to his lips.
“Are you going to talk to me? Or are you just going to keep drinking?”
He picked up another glass after downing the last one, licking his lips. “I don’t talk to ghosts.”
Your stomach dropped, like a stone in a pond. Your lips fell, a weight dragging them down. “Logan-”
His fists balled up, face turning red. “Don’t fucking say my name.” All the venom leaking from his mouth seemed to form a weapon meant for himself, but he kept aiming it straight at you. “Just don't.”
You held your head high. “Why not?”
“Because,” he took a long drink before continuing. “Your voice is drilling into my skull, that’s why. I don’t talk to ghosts and they don’t talk to me.” Logan shifted his body, facing away from you.
You closed your mouth, letting the words die inside. Instead, you watched the leaves fall from beside the open door.
The trees here never changed. They were stuck in a perpetual autumn. It was haunting to look at. You forgot there were other seasons sometimes. You missed the snow in winter. Icicles hanging from the roof of Xavier’s mansion. You missed the spring flowers and that early summer rain. All you had was autumn, and Logan had the rest. He didn’t seem to like any of it at all anymore.
The Logan you once knew and loved, if he saw you alive and well, he’d come running to you, holding you tight, whispering words of comfort.
This Logan though…He was tired. And angry. So angry. Grief radiated off every inch of him. It almost became a superpower on its own. You weren’t a stranger to that power. He kept you at a distance too, back when you first met.
You had the outline of his back memorized like the back of your hand. This was your Logan. He was just jaded now. Years of believing that you were dead and that he had failed not only his friends and family, but you, the most important person in the world to him, had changed him.
Down here, your one goal was to reach him. Well, you had accomplished that. But not in the way you had wished.
“If there’s any ghosts here, it’s you.” You said it without looking at him either. Just watched the leaves fall.
Logan shut his eyes tight, the veins in his neck growing stronger. His jaw loosened, the bourbon missing his mouth and spilling all over. “Fuck!” He cursed himself.
“Did someone wet the bed again?” Wade's red head popped its way into the room. “Jesus, you two look like you fucked with the lights off. Does this place even have lights? And have you made up yet? I’m sick and tired of this meeting and I wanna join in.”
He sure knew how to make an entrance. It was almost amazing how annoying he was. Again, Johnny and him would’ve gotten along. But Cassandra got to him first.
“Turn around and walk back in there before I pop that tomato of a fucking head of yours.” Logan spat, taking another swig.
Wade gasped, putting his gloved hand to his mouth. “I’d let you pop just about anything, Wolverine.” Before he could say anything more intrusive, Blade's hand grabbed his head, pulling him back behind the wall. Wade still kept ranting all the way back into the other room.
“I’m glad you have a friend.” You tried, shifting uncomfortably in your super suit. “I wouldn’t of made it if it wasn’t for my friends down here.”
And the thought of you. You wanted to finish with that.
“He’s not my friend.”
“Seems like he’s your friend.”
He shook his head, leaning against a rocky pillar. He wanted to keep the distance between you and him as far as possible. You were going to keep running towards him anyways.
“As soon as I arrived it was too late.” You started. “They were all dead.” You paused, letting the grief settle in. Logan sat there as still as a ghost. “I was going to find you before you found them. I'm so sorry you had to see them like that.” You let the tears flow this time. “But then the TVA- they got me. Said I killed one of their own a few days prior. Which is bullshit. But they didn’t care, and they sent me here. I’ve been trying to get back to you ever since. I'm sorry, Logan.”
It happened as quickly as he drank those bottles. He got up, wobbled a bit as he stood, and walked out the door, crushing autumn leaves under his feet.
The silence he left behind was worse than his venom.
Wade popped his head back in, the other four following as well. “We did it! Operation, Stealing Cassandra’s Wii hidden underneath their bed, is underway!”
“What’s under Cassandra’s bed?” Elektra questioned.
“Oh, all kinds of stuff.” He started counting on his fingers. “Video games, velveeta cheese, a bunch of those for some reason. Cowboy hats, pixie sticks, a signed dvd of The Green Lantern. Truly an evil monster, my god.”
Gambit leaned over to Laura. “Do you think one of my missing cards could be hidden under there?”
Laura ignored him, walking over to you, noticing your wet, red eyes. “Hey, are you okay? Where’s Logan?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that question too, Laura.”
Logan’s daughter nodded, squeezing your shoulder before going to look for the shadow of her father.
It was growing dark now. Night was here and all you wanted was to sleep. Maybe you’d wake up in Logan’s arms again and he’d pepper light kisses across your face, taking all those years without him away. Like they never even happened. Like you never lost anything or anyone.
It was still night out when you woke up. Wade's snores were keeping everyone else up, so they moved him outside. You walked by him as he was passed out in a pile of leaves, making your way towards the burning campfire.
Logan sat slumped over the smoke, chin cradled to his chest. You could’ve sworn you saw tears disappearing into the fire. But you didn’t want his dagger like words again, so you turned back around.
And then you heard your name.
It was whispered so softly, like a strong wind. You waited a few more beats, hoping to hear it again. And you did. His voice was strained. Calloused over like he had said your name so many times before that it hurt so bad every time you never said his name back.
But you did this time.
“Yes, Logan?”
“I was just thinking-” His voice was wavering, like he was on a tightrope, wondering when he’d fall off. “I was thinking about your birthday. I’ve missed so many of them.”
Your eyes glazed over, a well of spring water washing away the autumn you still adored. Before you could run to him, he was already there. Strong arms found their way around you. Those lips kissed every inch of your face. It was like returning home again.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He was barely keeping it together. “I thought you were dead. And then I saw you and all I saw was another failure. I’ve failed you. You’ve been trapped here. And I didn't come to save you. All I did was punish you.”
“It’s okay.” You held him tight, but he held you tighter. “You didn’t know. You had to go on thinking everyone you loved was dead. Logan, you didn’t deserve that.”
He held your head, finally meeting your eyes with his own. “I love you.” He rarely said it. But he didn’t have to. You always knew. “And I’m sorry.”
“I love you too.”
“I’ll be sorry forever.”
“Then I will be too.”
A mix of sorrow and happiness clung to his face. He laughed, as if he was laughing for the first time. “You’re here. You’re not a ghost. I’m not a ghost.”
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sanguineterrain · 6 months
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Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭
Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?
hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol
dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words
****
You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.
"My love, you almost ready?"
You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.
"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."
The door opens. Your heart swoops.
Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.
Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.
And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.
"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."
He's lying.
That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.
You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.
But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.
You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."
“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."
Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.
Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.
You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."
“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."
You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 
****
The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  
You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 
He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 
Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—
“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”
You're exhausted. 
“Uh-hmm.”
He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 
Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull you closer and permeate your senses with his gold.
“Dickie!” 
Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 
Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.
When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.
“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”
“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”
“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 
“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 
She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.
Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.
"This is my partner," he says about you.
Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."
You nod. She turns back to Dick.
“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 
“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 
Dick and I go way back.
Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 
“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”
“I feel sick,” you announce. 
Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."
You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.
Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.
Your feet start moving.
"Baby—"
Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—
You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.
Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.
Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.
You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—
"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"
Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.
"I need to break up with you," you blurt.
"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"
You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.
"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"
"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"
"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"
You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.
"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.
You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."
"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."
"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."
Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"
"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"
"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"
"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."
"Wh—that's not true!"
"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"
Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?
"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"
And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.
"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."
"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"
"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."
"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"
"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."
You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.
His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.
"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"
His heart beats against your cheek.
"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."
"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."
You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.
"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."
He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.
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hotshotsxyz · 13 days
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wide awake from the breeze
(buddie) (2.2k) i swore i was going to write something for @summerofbuddie so here i am with something on the last possible day lol. very in character of me. title from blue sky & the painter which i will continue to push as The eddie diaz song for season 8
The air is crisp and cold, and finally, finally, Eddie can breathe.
The San Gabriels are beautiful this time of year, but it’s hard to appreciate the changing leaves when he’s watching Buck. Their color could never compete with his light.
Buck’s fingers tap against the steering wheel as he hums along to a song Eddie’s certain has repeated at least three times in the past two hours. He’s beautiful like this. He’s always beautiful, actually, but Eddie thinks this might be his favorite version of Buck. Happiness suits him.
They’ve been tumbling towards something since Buck broke up with Tommy, since Eddie finally let loose the words that have been stuck in his throat for years. For once in his life, Eddie isn’t overly worried about time. For once in his life, he’s got plenty of it.
They reach a scenic overlook, and Buck pulls over. He takes his sunglasses off and drops them on the dashboard, then looks over at Eddie and grins.
“See,” Buck says brightly, “I told you it’d be worth the drive.”
Eddie twists in his seat so he can face Buck a little more directly. His curls are wild from the wind, and his eyes glow in the late afternoon sun. “I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Eddie murmurs.
Buck’s smile grows impossibly wider. The foliage doesn’t stand a chance. “You want to get out for a little? Stretch our legs?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees easily.
There’s a trailhead just a few hundred feet away, and Buck bounds toward it eagerly.
“Half a mile out and back?” he calls over his shoulder after studying the map for a second, as if there’s anywhere Eddie wouldn’t follow him.
“Let’s do it,” Eddie replies as he sidles up next to Buck.
Buck smiles at him again, and it’s a little like watching the first light of dawn stretch across the horizon.
They mostly walk in silence, but every few minutes Buck pauses to point out a particular tree or bird. It’s kind of incredible, the way he latches onto information and then gifts it to Eddie in a single excited breath. Eddie’s got his own personal guidebook to the world, and he makes everything feel new and special.
The trail ends at the bank of a small, placid lake surrounded by rocky outcroppings. Buck sits on one and pulls Eddie down next to him.
The sky above them is cloudless and clear, a brilliant blue that’s reflected in the water. A few leaves drift slowly across the surface, leaving behind tiny wake trails. It’s peaceful in a way Eddie’s rarely gotten to experience in his life. He isn’t sure he’d even be capable of appreciating that if it weren’t for Buck.
“I think I want to do this forever,” Eddie says as they stare out across the lake.
Buck knocks his knee against Eddie’s. “What?” he asks, “Watch the leaves turn?”
Eddie looks at him and finds a soft smile that tells him Buck knows exactly what he means. “Yeah,” he says, knocking his knee back, “something like that.”
For a long moment, Buck holds his gaze. “Yeah,” he says finally, “me too.”
Eddie leans to the side, allowing his weight to settle against Buck’s shoulder. He tries not to worry anymore about whether or not he deserves to have someone like Buck in his life. He has him. Buck picks him, over and over again, and even though Eddie’s not sure he’ll ever quite manage to wrap his head around it, he’s long since decided the only way he needs to feel about that is grateful. And god is he grateful.
Buck closes his eyes and tips his face toward the sun. His cheeks are tinged with pink, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the cold, the beginnings of a sunburn, or something else entirely that’s caused it. Eddie finds that he wants to know, wants to press his fingers to Buck’s skin and see if the redness fades or grows.  
It’s an impulse he could give in to; Buck would let him. There’s something about this moment he wants to freeze though, and if he moves it’ll change. Instead, he watches. He commits every detail to memory. When he’s old and gray and everything else is fading, this will be what he remembers.
A gust of wind blows down through the valley, and Buck shivers with it, nose scrunching. He opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. “I’m cold,” he admits with a sheepish smile.
“You’re always cold,” Eddie says, voice dripping with fondness.
Buck tilts his head in acknowledgement. He flexes his fingers a few times, probably stiff in the autumn air.
“C’mere,” Eddie says a little nonsensically. Buck will understand.
Buck holds his hands out and Eddie takes them. He vigorously rubs at them until they’re satisfyingly friction warm. He keeps them when he’s done, holding them together between his palms to protect them from the wind. Buck ducks his head and grins.
“You’re like a space heater,” he says, shuffling impossibly closer.
“And you’re like an icepack,” Eddie replies.
Buck blows out a soft, amused breath. “Makes me handy to keep around in the summer,” he quips.
“I always want you around.”
Another version of Eddie might’ve hesitated, might’ve buried that instinctive reply as far down as possible, shoved it next to all the things he refused to examine. Too bad for that Eddie; he wouldn’t get to see the pink on Buck’s cheeks darken and spread.
“I always want you around, too,” Buck says, quiet, like he might scare away the moment if he speaks too loudly.
Eddie’s been waiting. For what, he’s not entirely sure. For him and Buck to be alone, though that’s hardly a rare occurrence. For all the doubtful voices in his head to go silent, but Buck’s been quieting those for years. For him to feel settled in his skin. For the world to stop turning around them long enough to do it right. All at once, Eddie feels like there’s nothing else to wait for.
“I love you,” he says, and the words taste good. They’re the icy fresh snow melt that streams down mountains in the spring, the bright tang of citrus in the summer, the spicy warmth of mulled cider in the winter, and soon, he thinks, he’ll know for certain that they taste like Buck in the fall.
A small noise spills from Buck’s mouth and he sways forward, less like he’s leaning in and more like he can’t help but be caught in Eddie’s gravity.
“Eddie,” he whispers. His eyes shine.
“Buck,” he replies.
For most of Eddie’s life, he’s been afraid. He’s pushed past it, locked it down, pretended that the twist of anxiety in his gut was never more than passing butterflies. Here, though, now, he doesn’t even feel brave. He’s too sure, Buck makes him feel too safe; there’s no fear for him to fight against.
Buck blinks a few times and swallows visibly. Eddie rubs his thumbs in soothing circles against Buck’s wrists.
“You…” Buck starts, rough and awed.
“Take your time,” Eddie says, unable to hide his amusement.
Buck huffs and kicks at Eddie’s ankle. “Forgive me for taking a second to process literally the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he retorts without any bite.
“Oh no, I mean it,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “I’ll sit here all day. I’m not cold.”
A startled laugh jumps from Buck’s throat. “Be quiet, let me finish processing,” he says.
“Process away,” Eddie murmurs.
A few seconds pass and he watches the gears turn in Buck’s mind. Eddie knows the way they like to twist and catch, but he’s not worried. They’ll have a lifetime to discard all the worst-case scenarios.
 “Okay,” Buck says finally. “I’ve processed.” He pulls his hands from Eddie’s grip and raises them to his jaw. He leans in and Eddie meets him halfway.
Eddie was right, but also wrong. Buck tastes like love, yes, but he also tastes like home and joy and warmth and a little like the muscadines they’d stopped to buy from a roadside stand earlier in the day. Buck smiles against his lips and it feels like the rest of his life.
“For the record,” Buck says, pulling back just far enough to look Eddie in the eye, “I love you too.”
Eddie can’t help the bright peal of laughter that bursts from his chest. He feels free and alive and happy and everything else he was once afraid he’d never be able to. Buck skims a thumb along his cheek bone and grins.
“If you’re done, I really want to kiss you again,” Buck says once Eddie’s laughter has faded to a soft chuckle.
Eddie grips Buck’s waist and hums. “I don’t know, I think I need to process,” he teases.
“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just sit here and freeze while you—” Buck makes a surprised noise as Eddie surges forward and cuts him off with his lips.
They break apart a second time and Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. “I’ve processed,” he says, quiet and smiling.
“Yeah?” Buck asks, a little breathless.
Eddie hums an affirmative. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, had to let it sink in.”
Buck presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “It takes a second,” he agrees.
Another gust of wind blows past them. A few leaves begin their gentle descent to the ground and Buck shivers.
“Come on,” Eddie says, laughing lightly as he pulls back and stands. He holds his hands out and Buck takes them. “You’ve got a hoodie in the Jeep.”
Buck’s head tilts adorably. “I didn’t…” he says, trailing off as the confusion in his expression makes way for that quiet, disbelieving smile that seems to be reserved exclusively for Eddie.
“You’re always cold,” Eddie says with a fond eyeroll. He tugs at Buck until he stands.
“Not always,” Buck says, suddenly inches from Eddie.
Eddie swallows as a shudder of anticipation travels down his spine. “No?” he asks faintly.
Buck fixes him with a look Eddie’s seen before, though never directed at him. “Nope,” he says, eyes dark and lips curling.
The effect is lessened slightly as the breeze kicks up again and Buck cringes away from it. The tip of his nose is bright pink. Eddie wants to kiss it, so he does.
He laughs again and drops one of Buck’s hands. “Let’s go, cowboy, you can seduce me in the Jeep.”
Buck’s mouth opens and closes. “Uh, that’s—yeah, let’s do that,” he says in a rush.
They quickly make their way back up to the trailhead. Eddie can’t remember ever smiling this much, but even when his cheeks start to hurt it’s impossible to stop. He’s happy, happy in a way he didn’t even know was possible until very recently.
When they reach the overlook, Eddie pauses just long enough to lift their joined hands and press a kiss to the back of Buck’s.
Buck’s eyes widen. “When did you get so…” He gestures vaguely.
Eddie snorts. “I have game,” he says.
“No,” Buck says incredulously, “you don’t. Or—or didn’t.”
“It sounds like you think I have game,” Eddie teases.
“I think you should get in the Jeep so we can go home and test the theory,” Buck replies.
“Gonna have to let me go first,” Eddie says, nodding toward their intertwined fingers.
Buck blushes but makes no move to extricate himself from Eddie’s grip.  
“Or not,” Eddie says softly.
“I just…” Buck trails off.
Eddie squeezes his hand.
“I want to remember this,” Buck says, ducking his head. “How everything feels right now.”
“Even the cold?” Eddie asks.
Buck squeezes his hand. “M’not cold,” he says.
The wind blows, and Buck crowds in closer to Eddie, trying to hide from it.
“I think you might be a little cold,” Eddie murmurs.
“Maybe I just wanted to kiss you again,” Buck replies.
Eddie grins. “Don’t let me stop you,” he says.
Buck presses a feather-light kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth. Eddie feels his cheeks heat beneath his touch.
“Okay,” he says softly. He steps back and lets go of Eddie’s hand. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the Jeep.
Eddie climbs into the passenger seat as Buck settles in front of the wheel, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. He reaches into the back and grabs Buck’s hoodie, the slightly oversized one that he loves to wrap himself in on days just like this one. He hands it to Buck. As he watches Buck wriggle into it, he’s hit with a wave of joy all over again.
“I love you,” he says when Buck’s head pops out from the hood, just because he can.
“You’re such a sap,” Buck says, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you too.
Buck turns the key in the ignition, and the stereo comes to life playing the same song as before.
Is that a blue sky? The singer asks.
“It’s about damn time,” Eddie can’t help but sing along.
Buck grins at him and grabs his hand.
It’s about damn time.
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runariya · 9 days
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Part 2 of this | shout out to @sleepingzzzimp who made this happen lol part of the prompt game pairing: vampire!Jungkook x f!reader genre: vampire!AU, yandere, dark romance warnings: compulsion and being held captive, obsessive and possessive JK, OC’s rather…special in regards of what JK did to her, allusion to dubcon/noncon, blood drinking, foul language, explicit sexual content, smut, OC’s ovulating, oral (m. receiving), ‘good girl’, a lot of saliva, deep throating, size difference, a lil bit of fingering, doggy, unprotected seggs, a lil bit of aftercare, a lil bit of fluff, lmk if I forgot smth pls word count: 2.573
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Jungkook didn’t think much further than keeping you by his side, using you not only as his personal blood bag but also as a warm, perfectly suited pleasure-giver for his dead soul. It’s not like you have much of a choice, with the compulsion firmly in place to stop your fragile self from doing anything that might harm your mortal, precious life.
He knows, though, that even under compulsion, humans tend to remain aware of what’s going on. He’s seen that subtle flicker of consciousness more times than he can count. But with you, he never finds resentment, hatred, or sadness—none of the things he might expect, even when he himself would admit he’s gone too far.
It’s impressive, really, and makes it all the more fun and fulfilling to have you around. You’re like the perfect doll, tailor-made just for him. Amazing.
Weeks have passed—maybe months? Jungkook doesn’t know anymore, nor does he care to keep track of mortal time. What he does know is that a routine has formed. And part of that routine is watching you make breakfast in the old kitchen of his mansion. Because despite everything, you’re still human, and you need nutrition to keep being his personal supply.
Jungkook’s noticed for days now that something about you has changed, though he’s not entirely sure what it is. It’s like the compulsion has worn off, not working on you the way it used to. But that shouldn’t be possible. At least, not in his understanding of things.
Sometimes, as he watches you humming around the kitchen, occasionally singing along to the crackling radio on the top shelf, he daydreams of you being here by choice, not because of compulsion. It must be nice, he thinks, to have someone who loves him.
Could he even love? If it was with you, he might try. Or maybe this possessiveness is love, the only kind he’s capable of feeling.
Like every morning, Jungkook sits at the nearby table, watching you prepare a high-protein breakfast, as if you’re willingly keeping yourself strong for him. Then, it happens. Your eyes meet his, and for the first time, they’re crystal clear, fully conscious, without any trace of the haze he’s used to see in them.
His face would go pale if he weren’t already deadly white. Carefully, he stands up, every sense on high alert. The kitchen knives are just within your reach, which he’s absolutely not a fan of. 
“What’s wrong, Kook?” Your voice is soft, melodic, and he can’t tell if you’re playing games or if he’s dreaming.
“You tell me.”
“I’m fine. But you’re not. You’re scaring me, Kook.”
He knows why you’re scared. He’s never acted this wary with you before, never approached you like you might be his literal downfall. But he can’t help it. Even though he knows you can’t really harm him, he refuses to let his guard down.
“I know the compulsion’s worn off. Stop pretending.” His voice is dangerously cold, stepping closer, eyes flicking between you and every potential threat—the knives, the hot pan, even the salt that could burn his eyes.
“I’m not pretending, I know it’s worn off.” You smile up at him, brighter than ever, like you’re happy to be free—though not from him, specifically.
“And why aren’t you running? Or fighting?”
Jungkook doesn’t want to indulge in some fantasy where you’ve magically fallen in love with your captor. But despite his caution, your words make him feel something—a fuzziness he hasn’t felt in centuries.
“Why would I?” You sigh, turning off the stove and setting down the spatula. “Jungkook, you’ve treated me well. It’s not like I would—”
“Cut the bullshit. I know you’re lying.”
“But I’m not, Kook. There’s no one out there waiting for me. And if there is, they’re only out to hurt me.”
Your eyes are glassy now, almost pleading, and he’s not sure what to make of it.
“And now, you’ve suddenly fallen in love with the one person who’s used you in every evil way imaginable?”
“It was never evil, and you know it.”
Your confidence throws him off. He’s always seen himself as the monster he is. He’s used your body, fed off you—blood and arousal—without ever asking for consent. How could that not be evil?
“But it was.”
You purse your lips, shaking your head disapprovingly as you turn back to the stove, reigniting it to finish your breakfast.
“It wasn’t. Did I give you permission for all that? No. Would I have if you’d asked? Probably not. But—”
“See!”
“I’m talking now. Shut up.” You point the spatula at him, and it’s so cute that he genuinely smiles for the first time in what feels like forever. “All I’m saying is, even though your ways are… unorthodox, you were never harsh with me. It never hurt, and I could feel how much you cared for my wellbeing.”
A silence falls between you, and Jungkook isn’t sure what to say. You’re sort of right. He never wanted to truly break you. He wanted to keep you safe, keep you useful for as long as possible. You’re too precious to waste.
“All I’m saying is, now that I’m fully conscious and making my own choices, I’d rather stay with you than go back to the humans.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Oh, I can tell.” You giggle, and despite himself, despite every reason not to, Jungkook chuckles too.
“Eat up. You’ll need it.”
Jungkook turns to leave, still processing, his mind racing. He needs time to figure out what to do next.
“Can’t wait,” you call after him, your tone teasing, and he’s pretty sure that if he could blush, he would.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
There’s no way in hell he’s able to figure you out. No. Way. Why are you all smiles and happiness, sitting like always on his giant bed, offering your neck to him like you always did?
He’s standing a good distance away, arms crossed over his sturdy chest, head tilted to the side. It’s not like he isn’t hungry—he’s starving, actually—because he’s never had his full fill of your blood, always making sure you’re alright after, leaving his hunger partially satisfied but never completely.
Saliva is collecting relentlessly in his mouth, his fangs protruding without much effort. Yet, he can’t make a move. What if it’s a trap? What if there’s a hidden dagger in your clothes, something that’ll kill him?
Should he just make you leave and find someone new? But he doesn’t want to. You’re just too sweet, too perfect for him to resist.
“Strip bare,” he commands, and the words alone make your thighs rub together as you immediately comply. Odd. 
You waste no time, each piece of clothing falling soundlessly to the floor, your nipples hardening in the cold.
“Turn around.”
You do. And he finds no threat on you. Odd again.
“Sit.”
You comply again, and he’s kind of aroused by your eager obedience. It’s refreshing, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to resist you if this keeps up—willingly walking into whatever doom you might be for him.
But still, he’s unable to move, even though the pulse of your neck is tempting him beyond reason.
“Kook,” you mewl softly, and he’s gone. Jungkook’s gone in the sweetness of you. He lets his arms fall, strides towards you, and practically tackles you to the bed, licking and breathing against your neck.
“So good,” he murmurs, saliva dripping from his lips onto your skin as you grind your hips against him. He’s not sure why you’re this eager—he hasn’t bitten you yet, so his bite’s usual effect can’t be coursing through your blood making you horny.
“Why so eager?” he muses, grazing his fangs along your artery.
“Ovulating,” you moan, your hands threading through his hair.
“Hmmm… I can smell it on you.” The intoxicating scent of your body wraps around him like a vice, and he can’t resist any longer. “Gonna make you feel good, doll.”
You only moan his name as Jungkook finally sinks his fangs into your delicate skin, your blood flooding his mouth, his entire being. It makes him feel high, high in a way that tells him he’ll never want anything or anyone else. He’s addicted to you.
Jungkook feels your arousal intensify, your dopamine and oxytocin levels skyrocketing as your juices drip from your perfect little hole, soaking his clothed thigh with a dark wetness.
“Yes, Kook, need more, please.”
Jungkook pulls back in surprise, the confirmation so new he’s unsure if he heard you right. But you grab his head, pushing him back to your neck while your other hand fumbles with his chest, trailing down to his abs.
“Please, Kook. I’ve been a good girl. Please.”
Jungkook feels like he’s in heaven—a demon allowed into paradise. He’s fully sated, despite not drinking much of your blood. He reckons it’s the awareness in you that magnifies the effect.
He licks the wound on your neck to help it heal, then leans back on his knees, admiring your flustered, tiny frame. You’re looking up at him with sparkly eyes, lips parted, neck still smeared with your blood—you’re a vision he’ll never get sick off.
“You’ve been a good girl?” There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing you this keen, and he plans to savour it.
“Yes, a good girl for you. Always for you.”
As Jungkook stands to strip off his own clothes, you’re watching him for the first time, drinking him in rather than lying there passively.
“Sit up. Open up.”
Obedient as ever, you do as told, opening your pretty mouth and sticking out your tongue, waiting impatiently.
Jungkook pumps his cold, rock-hard cock a few times, marvelling at the sight of you. He runs his thumb over his glans for an extra kick. And though he knows you can somehow take him, he’s always impressed by the sheer size difference. But you’re a good girl, letting him in, suppressing the gag as he hits the back of your throat, muscles pulsing violently around him.
A primal moan escapes his lips as his head falls back, savouring every second of you sucking him off like your life depends on it. He can’t help but thrust into your throat, his pace increasing with every push as you grab his hips to take him deeper, moaning around his cock. Your saliva drips down your chin, your eyes, aware, locking onto his as if to reassure him to give you all he's got. 
He doesn’t hold back after that, pushing his hips flush against your face, your nose pressed into him until you can’t breathe anymore as he lets go, shooting his load down your throat. He stays there a moment longer, riding out his orgasm before pulling back.
It’s pleasing to see that, even though you haven’t climaxed yet, your skin glows ever so lovingly.
“You good?”
You’re still catching your breath, but the smile on your face disarms Jungkook completely. “Yes, of course.”
For some reason, his heart swells at your words and at the person you are, someone he hadn’t truly seen until now.
A trail of arousal drips down his sheets, ending in a pool on the floor, which he hadn’t noticed before. The sight reignites his hunger as he flips you over, pushing your face into the bed and kneeling between your legs.
“Should I reward you?” Jungkook runs his fingers over your cunt, circling your entrance before moving to your clit, giving it a few rough pets.
All you can do is moan into the sheets, your hips pushing back desperately.
Jungkook always thought you were perfect, made for him—the reason he captured you all that time ago—but seeing you now, more perfect and conscious than you ever were, is something else entirely. He loves it. He loves you. And he doesn’t care if it’s possible or not—he’s never felt like this before, and he’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way.
“I think you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve the big reward, don’t you?” Jungkook drags his fangs down your ass, ending at your inner thigh before sinking them into your soft skin for a little sip, your arousal adding a tantalising spice.
“Yes, Kook, been so good for you,” you pant, and that’s all he needs to reward you properly as he gets to his feet after licking the bite closed, lining his still-hard cock up with your weeping cunt.
It’s a tight fit, so tight he feels like he might pass out, his vision doubling and tripling as your pulsing walls grip him mercilessly. “My beautiful doll, my beautiful, beautiful doll.”
Jungkook can’t stop praising you with every word he knows. You’re perfect, moaning, drooling, and pushing back against his hips just for him.
“You’re mine, doll.” He sets a brutal pace, needing the confirmation that no compulsion is required for you to want this as much as he does.
“Yours, Kook. Always,” you cry, fists clutching the sheets as you push back even more desperately.
“Fucking right, mine.”
Jungkook grabs your hair without slowing down, pulling you up against his chest while his other arm holds you steady not to collapse right back to the bed. 
“Never gonna let you leave.”
“Don’t want to,” you moan, your glassy, love-drunk eyes locking onto his red ones.
“Never gonna stop fucking you.”
Your swollen, parted lips scream to be kissed.
“Never gonna want anybody else,” Jungkook confesses between pants, knowing and accepting there’s no turning back for either of you.
For the first time since he captured you, you kiss him back, sucking his tongue like you’ve been starved. It’s as if all this time, you’ve wanted to reciprocate, to give, not just receive.
And despite still tasting his cum on your tongue, there’s a newfound sweetness, making him wish the compulsion had worn off sooner.
“Kook, I’m close.”
He doesn’t need your words—he can feel it in your pulsing heat, your quickening heartbeat.
“Come for me, doll. Show me how much you want this.”
You scream his name as he fucks you through your orgasm, your walls clamping down on his cold cock. He doesn’t mind, wanting to feel every contraction, hear every scream, taste every rush of blood in your body.
His own orgasm builds, and he lets himself go, chanting your name as his thrusts grow irregular until he paints your walls bright white.
You both remain like that, catching your breath, though only your heart beats violently, only you are drenched in sweat, only you truly spent.
Jungkook eventually pulls out, cleaning you up with tissues from the nightstand, all while you watch, glowing ever so ethereal in your afterglow.
As Jungkook reaches for your clothes to dress you as he always does, you stop him with a hand on his tattooed arm. The boyish look he gives you is oddly endearing, and he senses you’re gathering all your confidence for your next words.
“Please don’t send me away.”
Your honesty hits him hard, and he straightens, realising he’s truly hit the jackpot with you.
“I won’t,” Jungkook promises, and with that, you leap around his neck, legs wrapping around his tiny waist, thanking him over and over as if he's you're knight in shining armour.
198 notes · View notes
ln4bub · 9 months
Note
REQUEST: If you'd like to do it, I'm hoping for some Lando smut. You can fill in the details, but I want something where Lando is a college player that Y/N hates. But one day y/n somehow sees Lando in just tight, bright boxer briefs that show off his bulge and bum. And basically she gets turned on, and he recognizes it, and he starts to take advantage, dirty talking her, maybe showing off his muscles a little bit. And eventually he gets her in the palm of his hand. And then he has her get on her knees and give him a blowjob. I'm wanting Lando to be be super cocky and in control during the BJ, dirty talking and condescending and making her answer questions about how much she likes his muscles and how big he is. Sorry, this is so horny lol :)
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A/N - Changed it slightly from a college AU bc I personally just struggle to write them and added some sweet Lando at the end <3, hope you enjoy anyway my love x
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He pissed you off, it was the one thing you could always rely on. Every day Lando managed to get on your last nerve, finding his way under your skin. Biting his lip, winking at you, that stupid fucking tongue thing. He knew he was attractive, of course he did, he had no shortage of people telling him so. The problem was how much he abused that, given that you had to spend so much time with him as a member of McLaren you had plenty of firsthand experience.
You’d constantly overhear stories he told his friends on the grid, bragging about his latest conquest in the bedroom. You always rolled your eyes before appearing in the group to whisk Lando away to his next task. This weekend Lando hadn’t said a word about any hookups, instead venting about how frustrated he felt, lacking the sexual release he was craving. You found yourself smirking, glad he was feeling some level of the frustration you felt daily around him.
You found yourself searching the garage for Lando, unable to locate him. He was needed to review the data from FP1 before heading out for FP2 in an hour, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oscar had suggested that maybe he was in his driver's room so you headed off that way. Knocking on the door you ask, "Lando? You in here?" You hear some shuffling inside before Lando responds, "Yeah, come on in." You're glad to hear a slightly happier tone to his voice through the door.
Lowering the handle you push the door open, entering the room before immediately slamming your eyes shut. "Fucking hell Lando, where are your clothes?" You exclaim. Lando laughs, "Relax, I was just getting overstimulated in my fireproofs and the suit. I have underwear on." He tells you. Truth be told you had seen his naked back and panicked, failing to look down and see that technically his lower half was covered. You open your eyes, shamelessly letting the roam the rest of his body.
Lando's body is incredible, his toned calves leading up to muscular thighs. The bulge in his underwear is hard to miss, thick under the fabric of his Calvins. Your eyes rake over his torso, the faint trail of hair leading into his underwear making your thighs squeeze together. You’re drawn in by every mole covering his chest, and the veins straining in his forearms as his arms cross over his chest.
It’s when your eyes reach his crossed arms that you pause, eyes flicking up to his face. You find him already staring back at you, pleased smirk pulling at his lips. His eyebrow quirks as a blush coats your cheeks, “See something you like?” Lando questions, the smile on his face revealing the cute cap between his teeth. You feel your face burning in embarrassment as you stutter out an answer, “No don’t be stupid.”
Lando laughs teasingly, stepping towards you. You move backwards with each stride he takes until you feel your back pressing against the door. Lando’s arms move to cage you in, one tantalisingly close to your hip. You hear the click of the lock, swallowing in nervousness as Lando’s head dips towards your neck. He presses his lips to your skin, smirking when your pulse jumps. Your head tilts back, chest heaving as his tongue licks a stripe up your neck to the base of your ear.
“Care to help me with my dry spell baby?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his voice making you squeeze your thighs together. You nod and Lando pulls back, “Get on your knees. Want to stuff your pretty little mouth.” You drop to your knees without a moment’s hesitation, internally scolding yourself for giving into him so easily.
“Open your mouth.” Lando commands, smirking as you do exactly what he says. “Gonna have to open wider for me baby.” He continues, large hand grasping your jaw to encourage you. “Tongue out already too, such a whore aren’t you?” He mocks. Your eyes lid at his words, forgetting everything in the world except for him.
He leans down slightly, spitting into your mouth before running his thumb over your tongue. He spreads his spit before you enclose your mouth around his thumb, swallowing gently. He slides his thumb out of your mouth before replacing them with two fingers, relishing in the way your tongue swirls around him. You gag as he pushes deeper, eyes watering.
“How are you gonna please me if you can barely take my fingers honey?” Lando mocks, head tilting to the side. You can barely concentrate, his fingers making you dizzy as you fixate on the way his bicep flexes with each push of his fingers into your mouth. He notices the way you stare, smirking at your ogling.
“You like the muscles do you? I’ve been training harder lately, want you to imagine how my bicep would feel wrapped around your throat while I fuck you from behind.” He mutters, cock twitching at the moan you release around his fingers. He removes them from your mouth, leaving a filthy trail of spit down your chin. He steps out of his underwear, his hard cock slapping up against his stomach.
Your eyes widen at the sight of him, bigger and thicker than you expected. Lando smirks, “You can take me don’t worry, sluts like you are so eager to please that you’ll be crying around my cock in seconds.” He notices the way your legs clench at his arrogance, smiling at how needy you are for him. His hand wraps around the base of his cock, tapping the swollen head against the tip of your tongue.
Your eyes flick up to look at his own, smiling at the way they darken. “Oh you’re so filthy aren’t you baby? Just want to make me feel good don’t you?” Lando groans. Your lips close around the head of his cock, tongue flicking against the slit that’s leaking precum. The salty taste coats your tongue, a soft hum bubbling from your throat in response.
Lando’s hips buck at the feeling of the vibrations, “Does my cock taste good Y/N? Is that what’s got you moaning without me even touching you?” His teasing tone causes your pussy to clench around nothing, feeling the way your underwear grows ever wetter. Lando groans at the affirmative moan you release around his cock, stuffing himself deeper into your mouth. You gag as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, spit beginning to leak out of the sides of your mouth as he thrusts.
"Knew you'd be easy like this, knew that you were just jealous of all those other girls." He comments, large hands lacing in your hair as he continues his assault of your open mouth. "Crying for me already?" He asks, thumb swiping a tear away as it trickles down your cheek. His cock twitches at the sight of you, cheeks flushed, eyes brimming with tears, chin covered in drool. "You gonna take my cum deep in your throat like a whore? Gonna let me use like this from now on, whenever I need it?" Lando's tone becomes increasingly shaky as his thrusts become quicker and shallower.
The taste of his precum coats your tongue further, signaling his incoming orgasm. You slide your hands up the back of his thighs, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin. Your soft hands reach his ass, pushing him into the depths of your mouth. You gag gently and the contraction around his cock is enough to send Lando over the edge with a loud groan. "So fucking good, swallow for me baby." He mutters, ropes of cum spilling down your throat.
You swallow all he gives you eagerly, humming at the taste. Lando pulls out of your mouth before crouching down to your level. He presses his lips gently to your forehead, "That was so good, thank you." You smile up at him, face no doubt ruined by him. He laughs slightly before reaching for a small hand towel. He wipes your face, focusing in on your chin and neck that were coated in spit.
"Use whatever you need to clean up, I'm gonna head to the garage to review the data, which I'm guessing is what you came in here for." Lando explains. "Christ, what do you need me for if you already know where you're supposed to be?" You laugh, standing to examine your face in the mirror.
"Who else is gonna drop to their knees and look pretty like you?" Lando teases with a wink, shutting the door with a click and leaving you alone - blush creeping over your cheeks as you smile.
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kingkat12 · 2 months
Text
fuck you (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, angry sex, oral sex, extremely foul language, angst, toxic relationship, accidental creampie, reader should run
summary: being in a relationship with Roman Godfrey has its perks, but is he really telling the truth?
word count: 5,304
a/n: this is part 2 of long legs (link here), enjoy!! wrote this over a span of three hours because this idea has been stuck in my head lol
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I didn’t take Roman for a liar until recently. 
Because up until now, everything had been perfect these past few months; I’d spend every Saturday at his place, sleeping next to him, having breakfast with him, and then taking our routine stroll through Clifford Park just for the shits and giggles. I loved that more than anything in the world— At one point, I had to stand on the look-out for park patrols, holding my laugh while he etched our initials into the lamp we had stood beneath that night we became official. 
Our time together had been incredible so far. He had taken me out on elaborate dinners, and then refused to let me get out of bed the next morning before twelve because of his new ‘closeness-rule’; “I’m not detaching from you until noon,”
And who was I to say no? Especially not when it felt this good.
Now that I had his undivided attention, was the centre of all his affection and his designated person to call at midnight, I felt like I was floating. 
Up until last week.
Roman had showed up on my front door with his signature smirk to pick me up for dinner, dressed in his classic Armani suit, hair styled back. “Ready to go?”
I couldn’t help but smile, getting up on my tippy-toes to kiss his cheek— I was always so damn happy to see him. “Yeah, I just have to grab my shoes. Come in,”
A soft blush became apparent in Roman’s cheeks, stepping into my apartment as I disappeared back into my room. “The place is right around the corner, so don’t stress,” 
“Yeah, I know!” I said from the other room, rummaging through my collection of shoes. “We could stay at my place tonight, actually, so we don’t have to grab a cab to yours! Thoughts?”
Roman hummed, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Something told me he wasn’t so into that idea.
I stopped in my tracks, grabbing a pair of shoes before I came back out. "... No?”
Roman ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a slight chuckle. “I don’t know, I just… I like my bed,”
I couldn’t help but feel confused, but I brushed it off— maybe this was just a Roman quirk I hadn’t seen yet? It was probably not that deep. Right? Shrugging, I put on my shoes, grabbing my keys and my purse on the dresser. “Alright...? Cab fare’s on you, then, because I lent the rest of my spare cash to a friend earlier—“
In a swift motion, Roman snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him as I yelped in surprise. He let out a warm chuckle at the look on my face, leaning down to capture my lips in a sweet kiss. “Either we get going now, or I eat you for dinner. I’m fucking starving,”
Giggling, I pulled him in for another kiss. “Fine. I’ll be dessert, then,”
Roman let out a satisfied sigh against my lips, excitement shimmering in his green eyes as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the apartment.
However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something weird was going on. As he led me through the restaurant with a hand on my back, I realized this was the moment where the wheel in my head had started to turn. Even as we sat down to eat, the question of why he didn’t want to stay over at my place started gnawing at me. 
I had all my things at my place— My makeup, my shampoo against frizz, my clothes. I always had to walk around with my stuff if I was planning to sleep over at Roman’s place, feeling a bit like a nomad because... he hadn’t given me a drawer at his place yet. 
The mind-wheel continued to turn; why hadn’t he offered me a drawer? We had been official for months. For a man that was so damn adamant about being okay with a committed relationship, the more I thought about it, the more I started to see the cracks in the facade. Was he inadvertently telling me he didn't want to be in a commitment anymore?
Roman’s voice brought me back to reality; “What?”
Fuck. Had I been so swept up in my thoughts? “Pardon?”
“You’re not saying anything,” he said, putting his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
This is where my guilt started gnawing at me as well. Why was I even thinking these thoughts about the sweetest boyfriend I had ever had? “Oh, nothing, just...” And suddenly, it dawned on me that there was one thing that would ease my mind about this issue; “Just wondering if you’d want to meet my friends soon. I’ve met some of yours, but you’ve never met any of mine.”
Roman’s eyes widened slightly— I wouldn’t have caught it if I wasn’t watching his reaction like a hawk. With a chuckle, he pulled away from the table, wrapping his long, slender fingers around the cutlery once more; “I’ve met your friends,”
“Only in passing,” I mumbled, reaching out for my glass of water. “I’d like them to know the man I’ve been talking about for months. And I think you’d like them.”
Roman nodded, turning rather quiet. Something about it made my pulse quicken.
“Okay,” he eventually said. “I’ll meet your girls.”
I let out a shaky breath of relief, sipping my water with a bright smile on my face. Maybe I was just overthinking this, as always? “What do you say about next week?”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
And next week rolled along— today was the day. I had told my girls that Roman said yes to meeting them at our favourite bar downtown, and I was now checking my makeup in the elevator up to his penthouse. I couldn’t wait for them to finally get to know the man I was so crazy about, because honestly? I was dead tired of having to defend our relationship to them.
And I also didn’t like that it was starting to sound like they were right about him all along.
As the elevator doors opened and I knocked at the entrance, I held back a jump of excitement— I couldn’t wait. However, my excitement quickly died down when Roman opened the door, dressed in…
A white t-shirt and his pyjama pants?
At first, I let out a short chuckle, leaning up to give him a kiss. “Rome, get dressed! Silly man,” I made my way past him, putting away my stuff on the dresser nearby. “We’re supposed to meet my friends in, like, twenty minutes!”
The sigh Roman let out had my heart dropping in seconds. “Yeah, about that...” Something about the dead expression on his face gave me a hint about his next words; “Is it okay if we take a rain check? I don’t really feel like going anywhere tonight.”
My smile fell. “... Are you serious?”
Roman shrugged, reaching out to pull me into a hug, leaning his head on top of mine. “Well, they’re your friends, I think they’ll be fine if you just show up,"
I didn’t hug him back— I stood still, holding back the urge to push him off of me. “But... you didn't even have work today,”
“So?” Roman kissed the top of my head, stroking through my hair. Was he perhaps hoping that the affection would dull my disappointment? “It’s been a bit of a lazy day, sure. Everyone needs those. But don’t let me stop you from having fun with your friends, you should go!”
I put my hands on his shoulders, prying him off of me. It felt as though my heart had sunk all the way down into my heels. “You... said you’d meet them,” 
Had this been any other instance, I wouldn’t have cared— I’d have told him to stay in, that it was okay, but it was really bothering me now. Maybe Roman hadn’t changed after all? Had I deluded myself into thinking he had just for the sake of being with him?
“I know, but we can take it another time. Right?” With a sigh, Roman reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Why are you getting so upset about this?”
No— this was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you really asking me that?”
Roman didn’t even look confused, just... annoyed. “Yeah?”
I had to put a lot of energy into not letting my lower lip give in to a quiver. Standing in front of the man I loved, feeling shut down and upset, I finally let it out; “Do you know I don’t even have a key to your place?”
Roman furrowed his brows, clearly not expecting those words out of my mouth. “What does that have to do with anything?—"
“The one time I left a toothbrush here, you returned it to me!” I balled my fists, hating that this was making me feel like a whiny child. “You don’t want to sleep over at my place, you don’t want to meet my friends, and the one time we ran into your mother, you introduced me as your friend!” Saying it out loud only made it more clear to me. This was not okay, nor was it normal.
Roman’s eye twitched— it was obvious that he didn’t like to be confronted about this head-on. He shook his head, looking further annoyed and uncomfortable as his gaze wandered around the room, refusing to meet mine.
“The only thing that has changed, is that you’re no longer fucking those women with the ridiculously long legs!” I said, feeling my tears press up on me. 
This was it for Roman— he groaned, turning to me with a rather angry look on his face; “What the fuck is up with you and your hang-up on the long legs?—“
“Because, Roman, those women were beautiful!” I cried, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “And maybe you’d let them keep their toothbrushes here, because maybe it would be easier for you to embrace someone you think is on your level!” 
Seeing the stunned expression on his face, I angrily wiped away the tear that had rolled down my cheek, grabbing my stuff. I reached for the door, taking one last jab before making my leave; “I should’ve left with Peter when I had the chance,”
It was in this moment that Roman put his hand on the door, slamming it shut with all his might. The bang echoed through the apartment, making me jump and look back at him with wide eyes of shock; the look on his face made my heart threaten to beat out of my chest.
Roman’s breath came out in short, ragged motions, chest heaving with anger. The way his eyes widened with fury had me worried, and his lips shut tightly into a line as his jaw clenched— I had to take a step back. I should’ve known better than to provoke a man like this. 
“If you need a key to know that I’m crazy about you, then I might have to rethink what I’m doing here with you,” he said, his words coming out like a low growl. “Are you that fucking insecure?”
“You make me insecure!” I let in a big heave of air, flailing my arms around as I tried to find the right words. 
“Yeah?” Roman snarked. “Well, if I’m so fucking horrible, maybe you should go back to Peter! Go ahead!”
Had I not been so terrified, I would’ve cried all over again. “Fuck you,”
Roman’s eye twitched once more— “Fuck you, too,”
“Fuck you!” I couldn’t help but grow more and more agitated; I had never been this hurt in my life. “Fuck you and your snoring!”
Roman’s lips parted in confusion, quickly retaliating; “Oh, yeah? Fuck you and your incessant need to be late to everything!”
“Am not!” This was starting to make my blood boil. “Fuck you and your stupid suits!”
Roman seemed to be feeling the same; “Fuck you and your heels!”
“Fuck you and your hair!” 
Somehow, I felt like this fight was shifting into something else.
“Yeah? Well, fuck you and your short fuck-me dresses!” Roman took a step away from the door, nearing me with dangerous steps. “That’s just not appropriate to wear in my fucking office!”
It didn’t take long until this had turned into a screaming match. “Fine, I will wear nothing but baggy jeans and enormous sweaters, even during the summer! Would that make you happy, asshole?” 
Roman groaned; “You’re such a fucking bitch, do you know that?” he yelled, nearly hovering above me. “Of course it wouldn’t, you know that’s not what I meant!”
“What the fuck do you want me to wear, then?!—“
A beat. “What about nothing?”
It didn’t take long for the both of us to understand what was happening, our eyes widening at the same time as it dawned upon us. It also didn’t take long until I flung myself around his neck, our lips meeting in a fiery, angry kiss. Roman lifted me up in no time, my legs wrapping around him. 
“Fuck you,” I breathed in between kisses, feeling my heart beat against his as he carried me further into the apartment.
“Will do,” he said, reaching his bedroom in no time with his long steps. Roman laid me down on the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of me. 
I was still unbelievably angry at him— but somehow, those emotions had turned into flashes of passion. Something told me that our relationship wouldn’t last at this rate, and it only made me more desperate for him. With tears in both our eyes, we somehow managed to get out of our clothes in between hungry kisses, not wanting to be apart even for just a second.
I let out a tiny sob as he kissed down my stomach, feeling my anger simmer in my chest, raging through me like a storm. Roman was so damn infuriating, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him go. I really, really didn’t want to let him go— was this how we would end?
My back arched off the bed and I let out a soft gasp as I felt him lick a wet stripe up my sex; somehow, the pleasure was starting to feel like a relief from the tornado of feelings ravaging my insides. Feeling his tongue trace tight circles around my clit was way too damn overwhelming at this moment, making me want to cry out in more ways than one. “Rome—“ I breathed, feeling another sob bubble up in my chest.
However, it quickly died out as he sucked down on my clit, lapping me up, making me feel like I was on the brink of pure ecstasy. 
Roman knew how to dull down my brain. He knew, and he knew it very well. Right now, that was more of a blessing than a curse.
“Rome, come back here,” I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his soft hair. “I can’t— I want you close.”
Roman hummed, his wet lips never leaving me as he made his way back up my body with kisses along my stomach, my chest, my collarbones and my neck. “Thought you hated me,”
I looked up at him, meeting his hard gaze as his lips hovered inches above mine. “Not fully,” I whispered, reaching forward to touch his face. Sometimes, it was hard to believe someone so beautiful could be real. “Only a little.” My hands traced his brows, the curve of his nose, the hollow of his cheeks, touching him as though he was made of glass.
And something about my softness seemed to affect Roman— his green eyes rounded out, looking down at me with an unintelligible emotion I hadn’t seen in him before. Leaning back down, he kissed me once more, no longer able to hold back.
With his chest pressed against mine like this, I couldn’t help but feel soothed from the absolute agony coursing through my veins. I was so, so scared that this would be it, that this night would determine whether or not we stayed together or not— and right now, I put away all our differences, all our hiccups, everything that was damn right infuriating about him, because at the end of the day... I loved this man.
And I hated myself for it.
I let out a gasp as he entered me, giving in to a sigh of relief against his lips. Nothing could ever top this feeling, nothing and no one could ever make me feel this good, and I knew it.
“Fuck you,” Roman whispered against my lips, his breathing further challenged by the feeling of being engulfed by my wet heat in this moment, rolling his hips against mine. “Fuck you for driving me crazy like this.”
Feeling his cock deep inside of me like this was enough to make me submit, my fingers going into his hair as I let out a shaky moan. “Fuck you, too,” I wrapped my legs around him, wanting him closer, feeling my breath hitch in my throat as his thrusts soon enough grew more rough. 
Roman reached down to grab my hips, making me meet the harshness of his thrusts. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood for being gentle— he wanted to take his anger out on me, and I was going to let him, whether I wanted to or not. 
A deeper, darker part of me loved this. Loved this feeling of having no control, knowing I had no say in what he was doing whatsoever. I could only tighten my fist in his hair, holding on as he continuously thrust his cock deep into me, letting out a string of breathy curses and moans. 
I could feel my legs getting sore as Roman suddenly said something that made my heart stop; “I love you,” he breathed, his grip on my hips tightening. “Stay with me.”
What? What was going on? I let out a cry, letting my body go limp to take his thrusts. My eyes widened as I realized that in this moment, I suddenly had power over our relationship, probably for the first time ever. I could decide whether or not I wanted to stay— he was begging me.
However, it was incredibly hard to make such an important decision when my legs were trembling and my whole lower body was in a state of the highest euphoric feeling on earth. “Liar,” I eventually said, my anger flaring up again at the memory of the events this past month. “You don’t love me, Rome... A-Aah—“
Angered, Roman pulled out of me without warning, flipping me over on my stomach. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, making me wince, as he used his other hand to prop me up to make it easier for him to enter me again. I let out another cry of both pleasure and anger, grabbing at the bedding beneath me as he spoke; “It’s you... For me, it’s only you... Shit,”
Roman let go of my hair, allowing my body to go limp beneath him. With the little power I had left, I instinctually moved my hips to meet his thrusts, wanting more. 
This was possibly the biggest mind-fuck I had ever been through, my brain shutting down as I felt his dick slide in and out of me continuously. My tears continued to press up on my eyes as I felt my orgasm building. “I loved you,” I breathed, feeling his hot, laboured breath against my shoulder and his hair brushing up against the crook of my neck. “I loved you, so, so much…”
It dawned on me that I really, truly did. I had loved him, but I couldn’t love him anymore. 
As Roman grabbed my hips, somehow shifting the angle of his thrusts, I let out a cry as he brushed up against my sweet spot— this was enough to drive me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before. I muffled my string of moans against the bedding beneath me, feeling a tear roll down my cheek, completely spent and overwhelmed.
It didn’t take long before Roman came as well, the harshness of his thrusts coming to a halt as he spilled into me. My eyes widened at the feeling— we’d been so swept up in the moment that we forgot about the condom. Fuck.
I heard Roman’s breath hitch as he pulled out of me, taking in the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of me.
It made me shudder— crap. I rolled over on my back, feeling how much my thighs and hips ached. It was a strange feeling, accompanying the satisfaction of post-coital rapture. I also couldn't piece together whether I liked the feeling of his cum seeping out of me or not. Had the relationship not been in this state, I probably would've found it rather... hot. 
I watched Roman’s chest raise up and sink, his green eyes meeting mine. None of us knew what to say, the sound of our panting filling the room. 
As everything started to dawn on me, I wiped away my remaining tears, sitting up in the bed despite knowing the cum might stain his sheets. Fuck the sheets. “I should go,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes anymore. “My friends are probably waiting...”
With a sigh, Roman shifted on the bed, laying down next to me. His fingers reached for my arm, hoping to pull me back down and into his embrace. “Stay,”
I looked back at him, unsure what to feel. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say; “No,”
Roman’s expression remained unchanged, possibly expecting that answer. “I’ll go with you, then,”
“No,” I got up, looking for my clothes that had been scattered somewhere on the floor. “I need to go the pharmacy, get a plan B, and then meet my friends. I don’t have time for you anymore.”
That was definitely something he hadn’t expected. Roman sat up, lips parted in confusion as he watched me get dressed; “What is that supposed to mean?”
I felt my lower lip tremble as I got hit with a newfound sense of clarity. “I’m not getting what I want in this relationship. This isn’t good for me. So until you get your priorities straight, I’m leaving you,” As I finished getting dressed, I turned to him. “Thanks for this, Rome... Have a good night.”
Leaving the bedroom with tears in my eyes, I did my best to hold back yet another sob. I quickly put my shoes on, not wanting to waste another second in his ridiculously big penthouse. I wiped away the mascara stains on my cheeks in the hallway mirror when Roman appeared, back in his clothes.
“Just... Let’s talk about this, okay? Let’s not make a rash decision,” he said, nearing me. “We can make this work. Give it some time.”
It was hard to look at him right now, especially when he looked this sexed-up. I didn’t even want to answer him, making my way to the door.
“Come on!” Roman was starting to sound more desperate, reaching out for my wrist. “This can work!—“
I turned around, my gaze hardening. It was so damn hard to resist him, and I needed to get my decision confirmed. “Say it again,” I said, knowing what would ensue.
Confused, Roman’s brows furrowed; “This can work...?”
“No,” This was it. This was the moment. “Tell me you love me, now that we’re not in bed. Mean it.”
Roman froze, and it was clear that his mind was working overtime. I held my breath, hoping that I would be proven wrong, that this was something we could overcome. However, with a shaky breath, Roman let go of my wrist, taking a step back. He lowered his head in newfound shame, giving me a silent approval to leave.
Sighing, I felt as though my heart had broken into a thousand tiny pieces.  How was it possible that I had let him disappoint me over and over? “Thought so,” I took one last look at him, feeling a sob build in my throat. “Bye, Roman.”
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
It had been a week since I had seen Roman, and it had been a week of pure agony. I hadn't stopped crying, having to take a week off of work, buying takeaway dinners every day because I didn't have the energy to get out of bed most of the time. 
Agony. Pure agony. 
Quite frankly, it made me feel ridiculous. I couldn't believe that I had let myself fall apart because of a man. But this wasn't an ordinary man— This was Roman. The previous-love-of-my-life Roman. Man-of-my-dreams Roman. How could I expect myself to be okay after a breakup like that?
Waking up on Saturday was even worse. The day I would usually have to follow his ridiculously cute 'closeness-rule'. The day we would take our stroll in the park. 
However, a small voice in my head asked me; why can't you just do that yourself? And that was exactly how I ended up back in Clifford Park under that same lamp as usual. A small part of me hoped he would show up, but another part of me went into a tiny panic over that thought. 
I stretched out my hand to let my fingers run over the cold metal where Roman had etched in our initials. In truth, I had found it quite stupid when he had suggested to do it— it was something kids did, teenagers, not grown adults? However, in this moment, I couldn't help but realize how romantic it was. That we were eternally etched onto something, a tiny memory of us and what we used to be. 
The lamp was starting to feel like a tombstone for a beloved, and I wiped away the tear that rolled down my cheek, not necessarily loving the thought of crying in public. Forcing myself to leave, I lowered my head as I passed by a man with a rather familiar scent, trying not to think too much about it. But my curiosity got the best of me— I turned around, watching the man in the familiar coat turn back around. Had he looked at me too? Was that who I thought it was?
I immediately sped up. I shouldn't be here.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Another week had almost passed, and I was starting to feel better. I had found out that the ache in my heart could easily be subsided by a glass of wine or a day out with my friends, but nothing could fill the hole Roman had left in my soul.
However, I had hoped that I would feel better about the whole ordeal at this point. Who needed a man that couldn't commit? Definitely not me.
... Definitely not. 
It was a Friday now, and I had just gotten off of work. I was getting ready to leave for drinks with my friends once more, seeing as that was the best remedy. And when I heard a knock at my door, I opened it without a second thought— it was probably one of my girlfriends asking to borrow a pair of shoes, as always. 
Meaning, when I saw who it was, I completely froze as my lips parted in shock.
There he was; Roman let out a shaky breath as he met my gaze. His hair wasn't styled, lying in soft waves over his forehead, and he had ditched his usual suits for a casual, formal look. Typical Roman— he couldn't even show up looking like a normal human being. Ever. 
However, I wasn't about to complain. I held my breath, unsure what to say or do. 
And suddenly, he spoke up; “Did you know I failed math class?”
I couldn’t help but let my jaw fall, giving him a look. "... What?” Is this really what he chose to say right now? It was definitely not what I had expected. 
Roman shrugged, not meeting my gaze anymore. “I had to redo it over and over again, probably up to three times,” he mumbled, putting his hands into his pockets. "When it comes to important things, I usually fuck it up. Majorly. And it seems to apply with... this as well."
My knuckles were turning white by the sheer force I was holding onto the door. It felt as though I couldn't breathe, turning to stone. 
"I'm also bad at sharing," Roman continued, looking up from the floor. "Really bad. And I'm sort of legally not allowed to give out spare keys to anyone, because of security reasons my company has put in place. So I'm sorry that it didn't cross my mind. But, wait, hold on—" He pulled one hand out of his pockets, reaching out his palm to me. 
And there it was. A key. With a shaky hand, I took it into mine, trying not to pay too much attention to the feeling of his hand against mine after so much time apart. 
Roman let out a relieved sigh, nodding to himself. "The thing about the toothbrush... Fuck, I've been thinking about it endlessly, and I see how it looks now. I genuinely thought you'd probably want it back, it didn't even hit me that you might've wanted a toothbrush at my place, and I have nothing against that. It's... cute, actually,"
I let go of the door with my other hand, putting the keys into my front pocket. I did my best to steady my breathing; I hadn't been this overwhelmed in a while. "Roman, I didn't expect you here—"
"—And the thing about my mother," Roman was practically rambling on at this point. Was he nervous? "She's insane. I don't introduce her to anyone, actually. If she found out we were dating, she'd probably put you through hell and back to see if you'd be the right fit for the 'future of the company', as she says. I wanted to spare you. So, again, sorry. Should've cleared that up."
Another shaky breath escaped me, not knowing what to say. 
Roman nodded to himself, glancing around the hallway to check that we were still alone. "And... I freaked out about meeting your friends. I have an inkling that they hate me, which they sort of have all the right to do," 
"Oh, Roman," I took a step forward, mostly out of pure habit. I had to stop myself from reaching up to his face and stroke through his hair. "Why didn't you just... tell me?"
Roman shrugged, looking rather embarrassed. "You didn't tell me that it bothered you,"
I sighed— he was right. "I'm getting a deja vu. I thought we were supposed to better at communicating, now," 
"I know," Without being invited in, Roman stepped into my apartment, checking it out. It was so typical of him to assume that he would be welcome despite our fight, but I couldn't help but find it sort of... attractive. Arrogant man. I closed the door behind us as I watched him, crossing my arms over my chest. It looked like he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, sticking out his hand to bump the lamp on my ceiling as though he was bored; "Did I ever tell you I love this place?"
Grimacing, I rolled my eyes. The time he didn't want to stay over at my place was still lingering in the back of my mind. "As if,"
"No, I do," He turned to me, a tiny hint of his signature smirk appearing on his lips. "It's just that your bed is ridiculously tiny. Did you ever notice that I'm longer than your bed?" 
I scoured my brain for that information, flustered. How was it possible for someone to be so charming? Giving up, I shook my head and admitted defeat. I wasn't going to win this mental battle against myself, and I knew it. I wanted him here, whether I admitted to it or not.
Allowing his smirk to grow, Roman's green eyes shimmered with hope. "It seems this will take a while.... Looks like I might have to spend the night,"
I bit back a smile— bastard.
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sodavizz · 5 months
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I Own You.
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This is part two. Part one is here > ★
Pairings. - Vox x gn!reader.
Summary. - You sell your soul to Vox, but he wants something in return of course; Your body.
(Disclaimer! – 18+ content, mdni. What content you consume is not my problem. Characters that I will write do not belong to me, and rightfully belong to Vivziepop.)
TW. - Vox being a total perv, obsessions, dirty talk, swearing, ooc Vox?, pure smut, creampies.
AN. - This is the last part. I'm not gonna write more parts lol. Still trying to figure out how to do this shit ❤
Word count: 432 words...
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Ever since you sold your soul to him. You started to work at Voxtech, of course. And every time you do something very well, he makes sure to give you a reward.
Vox makes sure to take full advantage of this, by bending you over any chance he could do so. You're busy doing something? He's pulling you to a nearby storage closet. Doing nothing in your room? He's pulling up to your room, spending the whole night with you being his personal cum dump, to the point you could barely walk. Just woke up? Easy, morning sex.
He makes sure you both have done every position he could think of. Cowgirl, missionary, against the wall, doggystyle, and even at his office most times. He's terrified that someone might hear you both, especially the other Vees. So he makes sure to lock the doors securely and keep you quiet.
———
"S-sir..." You said as it's the only coherent word you could blurt out, as Vox pistons into your sensitive hole. Besides your tired moans, the lewd sound of flesh smacking against flesh is all that can be heard within his room. You've been going on for a couple of hours but he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight. All he wants is to feel you around his cock... You wouldn't let him stop, would you...?
Well of course you can't stop him after the deal you both made. Not like you want him to. You love the feeling of the demon assorting his dominance over you and fucking your brains out every night. So here you are, with Vox slamming his hips into yours like its the last time he could do so. Hitting your sweet spot with every thrust as your eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Fuck. You feel so damn good.” He grunts as he leaned down to give you a rough kiss on your lips. His thrusts become sloppier as he gets closer to reaching his climax. “Oh Vox- Sir! P-please make me cum...” Your desperate pleas were all it took to push to his peak, shooting hot streaks of cum straight into your insides. You follow suit as you come for what you think is the th time already.
"Hah... Need more of you.." He groaned before starting to pound into you again. "Just need to... feel you for a bit longer... Damn, your fucked out face is getting me all riled up again. You’re tired, baby? I'm sure you could handle one more round.." He said before he starts going faster.
This is gonna take a while.
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Tagged: @it-gal888
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