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#i blacked out and this appeared in my room i swear
prongsx · 6 hours
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we are not children anymore, honey.
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warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.
where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.
1,8k words
You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.
You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.
You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.
At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.
Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.
When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.
At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.
That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.
The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.
"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.
"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.
"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.
"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."
Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.
"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"
"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."
You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.
He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.
"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.
You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.
"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.
"Hmm?"
"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"
"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.
If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.
He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.
"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.
"You could say that."
You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.
"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.
"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.
"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.
His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.
"Stop that shit."
A laugh escaped through your nostrils.
"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."
He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.
"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."
You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.
"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."
"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.
"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.
"Yes. I obviously know that."
He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.
His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.
"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."
"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.
"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."
Forming words seemed harder than ever.
"Ah."
"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"
You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.
"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."
"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.
He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"
You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.
Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.
"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.
You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.
"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."
You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.
Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.
I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.
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goodlucktai · 1 day
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Would you maybe do 8 with Leo talking to Usagi? :D
dialogue prompts
8. “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”
x
The subway tunnels are dark, half-collapsed, and the purest pitch black. Leonardo’s eyes are hooded white when Usagi sweeps the beam of his penlight towards him. Usagi’s never gotten a straight answer from any of the turtles about what, exactly, they had been genetically modified for in the first place, but he watches Leonardo pass his own light to one of the frightened humans behind him and figures he could add ‘built-in night vision’ to the column of weird abilities he’s seen firsthand proof of. 
The woman takes the light from Leo and passes it to her young daughter, who clutches it like a lifeline. No one from their group makes a sound, hyper-aware that the Krang hounds they barely managed to outrun could make a reappearance at any second. 
“Okay,” Leo says, in that steadfast, fearless tone of voice that made heads swivel from every corner of the room to pay attention when he talked. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”
“What?” Usagi blurts, jolting forward. “Leonardo, what?”
He tries to keep the panic out of his voice, for the sake of the humans they had not quite managed to fully save just yet, but he can’t help the way his heart starts to race. Leo doesn’t swear. He never swears. Every time he used to, he would look around guiltily, waiting for his big brother to swoop in out of thin air and scold him— “I don’t care if you’re a hotshot resistance leader,” Raph would say, “you’re still my brat of a baby brother, and I’m still bigger than you.”
But Raph died two years ago, and is no longer around to scold him for it. It didn’t stop Leo’s knee-jerk reaction of looking over his shoulder for him, as if he still might appear. And Usagi knows that hurt him every time. So Leo doesn’t swear. 
For him to break out the big guns, something must really be wrong. Usagi sweeps the light over him, his pulse pounding in his ears, and freezes when he finds what definitely looks like a piece of metal sticking out of Leonardo’s arm. 
Leo tilts away from him, putting the injury in the dark, and says, “Hush, Cottontail. We can’t let the hounds know we’re here.” 
But what was already a tricky situation has become a ticking time bomb. The hounds are nearby, their warbling, high-pitched croons reverberating down the dark tunnels, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint their location by sound. They’ll follow the scent of blood from a quarter of a mile away, like sharks. And Leo’s losing it fast—alarmingly fast. 
He unties his mask from around his eyes and uses his teeth to knot it around his arm instead, tight above the wound. He’s perfunctory and businesslike about it, and when he looks up Usagi knows he’s going to say something horrible.
Sure enough, “I’ll draw them away,” Leonardo says. “Once I do, you get these people to safety. We’re not that far from the safe zone, you’ll make it.”
Only that’s not how it’s going to go. Because Leo’s siblings are waiting for him. Because Mikey still hugs Leo like an octopus any time one of them leaves without the other, every single time, almost thirty years old and made ancient by grief and fear but still very much someone’s baby brother. Because if Usagi goes through with this, he’ll have to look April and Mikey both in the eye when he returns, and he doesn’t have the stomach for that. 
A crooning howl creeps toward them, alarmingly close. The hounds are getting excited, as if they’ve picked up the trail. Usagi shifts one step back, then another. 
Leonardo says, “Don’t. Don’t you dare.” It’s his leader voice, but it doesn’t work on anyone who grew up with him. And they were kids together before the end of the world. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, because he is. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t go. But this—him or Leo—this isn’t a decision that needs to be made. This just is what it is. 
He runs as far as the end of the track, sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles piercingly, and Leonardo’s stricken face, fuzzy and indistinct just within the range of Usagi’s flashlight, is the last thing he sees before he turns and runs for his life. 
They’ve used these tunnels for training exercises more than once, and that’s the only reason he makes it as far as he does, counting on muscle memory as he sprints and ducks and climbs. He crawls into a pipe just barely big enough for a rabbit yokai, much too small for a Krang hound—but not before he feels the drag of claws in the meat of his calf, not before a cry of pain is wrenched out of him, the immediate sting of the alien toxin setting in like a chemical burn. 
There are four of them screeching and digging at the mouth of the pipe with their horrible hands, and Usagi presses as far back as he can and hopes the metal holds. Hopes Leo got away. Hopes he won’t look over his shoulder for Usagi the way he does for Raph, because that would be—that would be so—
The sun comes out, flooding the tunnel with gold. The hounds shriek and peel away. A familiar, powerful force thrums in the air, like the charge before a lightning strike but consistent. 
Usagi thinks it’s strange to see a sunrise underground, and stranger still to see the sun at all when the sky has been overcast with dust and smoke for years, but it’s nice. It’s warm. 
And then he wakes up, which is super disorienting because he doesn’t remember going to sleep. He’s in the infirmary, the one room in the base guaranteed to have working lights and clean linens. The soft pillow beneath his head feels like a luxury he didn’t do anything special enough to deserve.
There’s a pressure on his hand, and when he looks he discovers Leonardo is holding it while he sleeps on the edge of the bed, slumped forward in his chair. Michelangelo is conked out beside him, his hair doing the funny curly thing it does after he uses too much ninpo, the whole of him blanketed in leftover static electricity. 
On the other side of the bed, April is watching Usagi with brown eyes that see everything. 
“That was close,” she says. “I don’t need to tell you that.”
No, she doesn’t. The memories limp and crawl back, and Usagi rips his eyes away from Leo’s face. He looks stressed even when he’s sleeping. Usagi contributed to those lines under his eyes, the chasm between his brows. It doesn’t feel good to know that. 
“I won’t ask you for a miracle,” April murmurs, “because that isn’t fair. But—it feels like I’m holding onto him by a thread sometimes. And I know Angie isn’t gonna let him out of his sight again for at least a week. Usagi, he can’t lose anybody else, okay? He can’t.”
The distress in her voice triggers something in Usagi that just bleeds, all through his ribcage, all through his heart. 
“I know,” Usagi whispers. He really does know. Donatello’s funeral was three months ago, and it still feels like they’re walking through a minefield. They’re balancing on a tightrope. Leonardo hasn’t laughed once since he buried his other half. 
“So just,” April says, “come home, okay? No matter what, make sure you come home.”
“I promise,” Usagi says, and holds his free hand out to her. She clasps it, and her fingers are human, the shape of them entirely different, but they have had a decade to make the gesture familiar and second nature. She’s his sister, as much as she’s Leo’s and Mikey’s, and Usagi would do anything she asked of him. 
So he keeps that promise for a long time. But he doesn’t keep it forever. 
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hey blank housers 🇺🇲🇺🇲🇺🇲🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
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I didnt have time to steam him yet so he's crinkled.. 😔
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gojonanami · 9 months
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months
Text
Had another sleep paralysis incident last night
#i don’t remember all the details but there was a podcast i was listening to about supernatural stuff and unexplained events and conspiracy#theories i think; and every time i listened to an episode; a random cushion appeared in my room#it got to a point where the floor of my room was just blanketed with cushions. and my room was way bigger in the dream than it is irl#i think i used a bunch of them to make a mattress for my friend so she could stay over. she came and i was like ‘use any pillow you want’#and she was like impressed by my pillow collection#anyway we went to sleep (yes i went to sleep in my own dream. don’t ask me how this works) and i dreamed of this entity that was the#personification of fear itself. it was probably average height and it wore a cloak with a hood that obscured its face. but tbh i don’t think#it had a face? you looked at the hood and you just saw night. or like black smoke. but ominous#in the dream within a dream it just stood there watching me and i laid there paralysed with fear#then i woke up (still in the dream. so i woke up from a dream with in a dream but i didn’t wake up irl) and told my friend about it#i specifically remember i said to her ‘i dreamed that the devil was here and he was just standing there breathing and watching me sleep’#and she just goes rigid with fear and then i realise i can hear breathing and it’s not either of us. and i look at the corner of the room#and it’s there. while i’m awake (still in a dream). just watching me and breathing in a really strange way that i cannot describe#well that was when i woke up with my body paralysed and my still half-asleep brain hallucinated the entity in my actual room#i was too terrified to remember that sleep paralysis was a thing and i basically thought the thing had paralysed me and was going to kill me#or torture me or possess me or something. but it just stood there still breathing and looking at me. so like i said; i’d forgotten about#sleep paralysis being a concept (and being something i regularly experience) so i went into full panic and also fight mode#i started thrashing; growling; screaming; swearing at it. during this process i woke up and i don’t think i actually made a sound because i#would definitely have woken up someone else in my house if i had. but yeah. i broke out of the sleep paralysis at 3:37am#this will go down as probably one of the scariest dreams i’ve ever had. surprisingly though i fell asleep pretty fast after it lol#i took maybe 20 minutes to calm myself down and then i remember thinking to myself ‘if it shows up again i’m actually going to kill it’#this entity is probably like 5’6. i can punt it#personal
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forsworned · 26 days
Text
part one
cw: onlyfans!simon, canon universe, cybersex, solo sex/masturbation, being simon's good girl while he has some downtime, parasocial relationship???
author's note: and let me say this once to be clear, if you don't know how to ask for a part two properly without giving some sort of positive feedback and instead demand it from me you will get a verbal spanking from me and i will embarrass you, i do not care
Your breath catches as you gawk at your phone, rereading the message. The sensation of anxiety pricks at you causing you to perspire under your pits and the temple of your forehead.
The thought of him—TacticalHeat—or Ghost or whatever the hell his name is waiting on the other side, possibly stroking himself at the notion of you joining him on a private call sends a rush of arousal up your spine.
Ping!
TacticalHeat: You still there, lovie?
Oh, fuck. You card your fingers through your hair and let out a heavy exhale. It's awful timing really. Like getting caught with your pants down...literally.
Fingers sticky with lube and your own arousal, you stretch your limbs to open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a wet wipe to clean off your hands and get a gander at the state of your appearance. It's slightly disheveled, but honestly? In a super sexy bedhead kind of way.
You wipe the corners of your eyes to remove the accumulated smudged mascara from your gruesome work day and let a sharp expire through your nose. Well, if you were going to do this, you'd at least look hot doing it.
You: Yeah, I'm here.
TacticalHeat: So what do you think, lovie...you up for it?
"Fuck!" You exclaim to yourself, not realizing that your dumbass forgot to reply to his original message. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, tracing circles in the air as you try to unscramble your mind.
You: Now works...what do you have in mind?
The three dots appear almost instantly like he's waiting for your response with the same fiery intensity that has you gripping at your phone.
TacticalHeat: I'll send you a link. I wanna see you, too.
Ghost has invited you to a Zoom meeting.
Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks. You hadn't expected this to escalate so quickly, to be pushed into the spotlight. And yet, the idea of him watching you is thrilling.
With trembling fingers, you adjust the lighting in your room and the camera on your phone to ensure you're getting the best quality. One last look in the mirror to smooth out your hair, and make sure your top reveals a little cleavage before you tap on the link, muddying your phone screen with oils on your finger.
Twiddling with the tripod that sits by the edge of your bed as the link loads, you clip on your phone and sit back while you wait to get accepted. He wastes no time getting you out of the waiting room and you watch as the screen shifts, and suddenly, there he is. Simon's half-lidded gaze fixates on you, his familiar skull-mask in place, but this time it's different. He's relaxed, clad in a black loose-fitted henley that outlines his taut physique, and he's manspreading in light-wash denim jeans, hands exposed and you're already aching at the sight. It's an intimate setting and the atmosphere shifts when he gets a real gander at you. His gravelly voice sends a frisson up your spine:
"There's my good girl," he purrs, and just like that you're hooked.
There's a moment where your heart drops to your ass, and you let out a little shaky breath before giving him a shy smile. His gaze doesn't waver. It's intense and focused as he drinks in every detail of your appearance. You're half wondering what he thinks of you and half focused on the hoarseness in his voice when he calls you 'good girl'. How the blood rushes to your face and your trepidation tingles on your skin.
"Hi," You finally muster up and you swear his dark eyes light up, or maybe it's the delusion that spikes into your prefrontal cortex. "I'm a bit, um, surprised that you wanted to chat like this."
His mask warps in the corner of where you assume his lips are indicating a smirk. "I like a bit of spontaneity," he says, leaning closer to the camera. "Besides I wanted to see how you would handle this."
You avert your gaze for a moment, feeling hot all over again. He notes how you suck in your bottom and how your dilated eyes flicker all over the screen, a subtle sign that your adrenaline is pumping. He wishes he could hear your heart beating through the screen.
Your fingers delicately trace over your collarbone, "what do you wanna see?" your voice drops to a sultry whisper.
His eyes darken and he takes a slow breath as fixates on you, taking in all your subtle gestures and the silkiness in your dulcet tone.
"Show me how you've missed me," he rasps. "show me what you've been doing while you've waited for me."
Christ, you want to melt into your mattress. You knew it was a playful gesture to create a more intimate atmosphere between you two, even if it wasn't true.
The challenge in his tone exhilarates you with a hint of collywobbles that infest your tummy. With a quick glance at your full-size mirror mounted on your closet door, you begin to tug at the strap of your skimpy top, teasingly revealing enough of your skin to keep him riveted.
And it works.
As you continue, you can hear the jingling of his belt being unbuckled and the sound of his zipper going down.
Your blown eyes are entranced by how he frees himself from the waistband of his briefs and you’re driveling over how the muscles under the porcelain skin of his cock twitches. He tilts his head back, transfixed on how you’re exposing your pebbled bud to him.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you squeeze your breasts between your fingers. “Every inch of you looks perfect, lovie.”
You practically fawn over his compliments. He’s praising you, watching you, getting off to you. And that feeling is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You feel liberated and exposed, knowing that he’s eagerly watching you as the lines blur. This feeling consumes you, consumes him, and soon you’re stripping off your panties and he doesn’t even bother to hide the groan that escapes his lips. 
“Look at you, absolutely stunning. Every bit of you…” His tone changes when you part your silken, glistening folds. “Touch yourself for me, lovie.”
It’s a demanding tone. One that sends a frisson up your spinal column and you feel the need to please, but there’s another side of you that awakens. The kind that crawls out when you’re being railroaded by a domineering man. 
“Say please,” You wave your wand around. 
He softly snorts at your attempt at trying to tame him, but he humors you, “Please, lovie. I crave ya.”
And that’s enough to inflate your ego. Your fingers switch on the vibrator and you tease it over your clit, bucking your hips at your sensitive clit. 
There’s a twitch in his eyes when they widen. Like the light in his head switched on. “So you’ve been playing with yourself, have you, pretty girl?” he coos, sitting up a bit more. Oh, you’ve really got his attention now. 
Your heart flutters at the same rate that your pussy does when you realize he takes note of your current over aroused state. “Maybe,” you give him a coquettish grin. 
As you take the initiative and push the boundaries with him, a rumbling growl emits from him. His gaze intensifies as they lock on yours with a mixture of surprise and approval. He loves a good brat.
“Is that so?” he susurrates, his tone oozes with amusement. He likes the way your pretty face glimmers with the excitement to satisfy him. “You wanna take control now, do you?”
He shifts in his seat. “Go on then, lovie.” he gestures to you, and oh how his dick creams at the sight of you shaking your legs on for, gasping at the vibrating sensation of your toy caressing your cunt. You’re really such a site for sore eyes.
“Such a pretty pussy,”he praises with a husky voice that makes your heart race. The saccharine moans that leave your lips as you spasms against the silicone while you instruct him to tug at himself. 
He obliges because how can he not when you’re looking so fucking luscious on the other side of the camera as you winsomely order him to smear the opulent precum that oozes from his angry, swollen tip. A little sob leaves your lips when you see how compliant he is, and how his chest shudders at your words and creamy cries of delight. 
“Just like that,” he encourages, pumping at himself and in an instant the tables turn, and you’re more than willing to let him take control. He pants at the sight of your parted, saliva-lacquered lips and lolled back eyes. “No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”
And that sentence alone leaves you breathless. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles, through his own labored breaths. The raw emotions in his voice makes it clear how much he’s affected by you, “God, you’re everything I want and more.”
And that does it for you because your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you feel your spine involuntarily arch in pleasure, peaked breasts splayed out as your pussy rapidly pulsates on full display for him. They bounce at your ragged breaths and throes of passion and he’s quick to follow, elongating the pleasure of your peak. His velvety, opulent cum spurts out in plentiful, white cords as he bucks his hips and throws his head back. His guttural moans are like music to your ears and you’re quaking at the pure rapture. 
There’s a long moment of silence as you both come down from your highs. A laugh leaves your lips, and a wry grin twitches at his features under his balaclava. You’re no longer dripping nerves. Your smile lights up the room, and his heart swells at the sight of your afterglow. Your confidence shines through and he’s still hard. Not a very common occurrence in the world of Ghost.
Your eyes flicker to his girthy cock and your grin spreads. His eyes follow yours and he chuckles and gently pumps himself, “not every day that happens.”
You cock a brow. “What the inviting me for a cybersex sesh, or the staying hard after cumming part?”
He barks out a hearty laugh, “Both I s’ppose.” he softly plashes. “Really got me goin’ there, lovie.”
And the nickname brings you back to life. Maybe you really were delirious because you can sense that his eyes display a different range of lingering emotions--persisting lust and a genuine admiration. You can’t help but to feel a little victorious as you watch him continue to stroke himself, even after the both of you reached your peak.
“Not everyday I meet someone who can keep up with me,” he rasps. He lets out a breath of satisfaction.
You tilt your head, a coy smile etches into your lips. “Guess I’m just full of surprises,” you reply softly. There’s that sensual confidence seeping into your tone and it shows on your body.
He chuckles. It’s low and alluring and it causes gooseberries to trail up your skin. “That you are, lovie,” he counters, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His voice makes you feel warm and gooey. “Could get used to this…to you.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air making his interest in you clear and undeniable. Your heart skips a beat as the heat between you simmers again. It’s no longer the deviancy alone that tips him off, it’s the fact that he’s brought out a different side of you.  
“Maybe next time,” your voice is low and tempting as your eyes motion to his still-engorged length. “you’ll let me show you how much more I can handle.”
His smirk widens under his mask, and his hunger for you multiplies. “Count on it.” he replies with the promise of fulfilling that request.
You both share a yearning moment. The spark between you is electrifying and certainly obvious. You decide to make the first move as you sit up to hover your sticky thumb over the end call button, “Good night, Ghost.”
He chews at the end of his cheek and his eyes crinkle signaling that he was smiling wide. “Good night, lovie.”
There’s no doubt in your mind that this won’t be the last time you’ll see each other like this.
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@ki-ssshot @essentialbeats-blog @dmitriene
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chatsukimi · 2 months
Text
ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ
gojo satoru rarely takes his glasses off. in his own world of infinity, you suppose real life is somewhat boring.
you couldn't be more wrong.
you're sitting across from gojo, a jacuzzi separating you. he has dipped his feet into the pool of clear water, the ripples cascading to your legs. noticing them, he looks up.
the first thing he thinks is woah.
the sight of you in a bathing suit stuns him temporarily, his heart clattering faster. but he musters up a cocky smile before strolling forward, putting on his black sunglasses, imitating one of those old men in sunnies staring down at you.
"arrived early, did we?"
you hum, craning your head up. your hand finds his neck, pulling his lips onto yours with a smile.
"you got me." your fingers catch his lightless specs and pull them from his ears. "let me see you."
you don't know what you're doing to him right now. he chuckles, rubbing his nape with a hint of awkwardness, when all he wants to do is take you in right there. he's never been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know if he can check you out so freely.
"you miss me so much?" he teases, though on the inside he's screaming.
goddammit, why did you take his glasses? he forces his gaze on your face- breathtaking, yes, but hardly the only thing that's begging his attention. he tries to keep his stare minimal, yet his lips part unconsciously. he stares at the only partial alternative to satiating his want: your lips.
noticing your boyfriend's gaze, a devilish idea pops into your head.
after geto and shoko arrive, the four of you talk casually in the relaxing hot water. gojo resumes his usual cocky self. an hour or so passes before you decide to switch to the living room.
"gojo, do you know where's the bathroom? i wanna shower."
wet feet plopping in tow through the winding hallways, you feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull. but as you enter, he stops by the door. you turn around, feigning oblivious.
"can you grab me a towel?"
ever eager to please, gojo quickly strides down the hallway for a towel, while you strip and enter the shower. when he comes back, listening to the sound of water, he waits by the door.
"gojo, pass the towel," you call.
he's so glad you don't have the six eyes right now, because he can feel his cursed energy spiralling. "w-what?"
"i said, pass me the towel."
his eyes widen. hovering over the doorknob, he swallows his other thoughts, shuffling into the bathroom, one feet after another, gaze pasted onto the floor.
your hand comes out, waving as though you have no idea where he is. he shoves the object into your hand before you step out, towel wrapped around you. with that, he immediately turns to leave, but not before noticing the devious little smile on your lips, possibly from his reaction.
fuck him, he thinks.
suddenly fingers enclose on his wrist, his limitless shut off from the distraction.
"can you dry my hair?" you say, polite, and in that soft tone you know he can't say no to.
his hands stagger over your head, gripping another towel, drying this part then the next. clunky. he's never touched someone else much before, and it shows.
what entertains you most, however, is the way he's forcing his eyes on his hand and nowhere else, focusing like it's his lifetime.
"done," he mumbles.
at last, you look up at him. he's wearing an uncharacteristically stern face, clearly holding himself back.
you ask, "do you want to say something?"
fuck. him. he lets out a shallow breath. how could you stand there batting your lashes like nothing's wrong, when you're making his hands run over you, yet not in the way he wants to.
"you demon woman. you know what you're doing."
you appear to be pondering, too, what you might be thinking. one of your hands tap at his chest, the space above his heart.
"tell me. what am i doing?"
his hand holds yours, keeping it against him. "you're tempting me."
you tilt your head to the side and you swear, he chokes a little. "and who's holding back, hmmm?"
...
2 years later
"gojo satoru, where have you put my towel??" your voice screeches from the shower.
leaning beside the bathroom door, the most annoyingly handsome man croons, "i've got it right here."
"give it to me. right now."
he shakes his head to himself. you still haven't learnt your lesson, it seems. he saunters over to the shower with the fluffy white towel in his grip. your hand pokes out. he clicks his tongue.
"baby, come on out."
an automatic groan claws its way from your throat and he chuckles, finding part of your unspoken shyness endearing.
"it's nothing that i haven't seen before," he adds, as though that'll make it better.
you feel your cheeks grow hot even with the excess steam. you know if he wanted to, he could step right into the shower and join you, but satoru seems to be in a lighter mood today.
regardless, you don't anticipate the effortless way the towel encases you as you step out. he wraps the cloth around you with care, the motion simultaneously tugging you closer to him. you let out a small gasp in comfort. to that, he snickers quietly by your ear, which provokes a half scowl from you. you look like a bunny in that oversized thing.
you mutter under your breath, "how did i get stuck with you..?"
he hums in response. "you're just too lucky."
he uses another towel to dry your hair. a thought courses through your brain- it's not like it matters much, but gojo satoru is really good at what he does. once he has experience in something, it's like the talent in his body simply activates, and the smooth sensation on your scalp dissipates.
this time, however, he doesn't announce his completion. instead, he tugs you casually against his chest. his hand skilfully cups your jaw, holding your gaze against his.
it's unfair, how the sight of his blue eyes send a seering level of need into your system. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself and the towel begins to fall.
"wanna see you," he says, his stare roaming over you, unabashedly ravenous.
and finally, with experience, he does.
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ginevrapng · 1 year
Note
I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?
If not, I completely understand! <3
i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3
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there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.
you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.
he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.
james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.
remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.
sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.
you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.
"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.
this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.
they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.
"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.
you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"
"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.
you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.
fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.
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swordsandholly · 5 months
Text
Fancy
Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy
Previous | Next | Ao3
NSFW | MDNI
Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever
A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.
The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.
After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.
It is what it is. Life goes on.
The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.
TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED
DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER
ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR
UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE
With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.
Nothing is new under the constant night.
Life goes on.
You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.
“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.
You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“
“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.
“I- what?”
“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.
The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.
“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.
It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“
“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”
You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.
“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.
“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”
“But I don’t-“
“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”
Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.
It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.
It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.
They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.
“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.
“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”
“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.
“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”
“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.
“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”
“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”
“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.
“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.
“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.
“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Och, ye wound me, lass.”
You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.
John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.
Top dog gets the chew toy.
“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.
“Suits not your style?”
“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”
You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.
“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.
“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”
Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.
“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.
To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”
Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.
“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.
You scoff. “Me?”
“You’re a smart girl.”
“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”
John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.
“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”
“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?
Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.
Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” John demands.
“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”
There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.
“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”
“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.
John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.
“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”
“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.
John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.
You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.
~~~
It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.
Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?
“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.
“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.
You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”
“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”
“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.
“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“
Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”
You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.
That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.
Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”
“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.
Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”
It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”
The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.
A promise.
It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.
“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.
“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”
“You just got here.” You murmur.
“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.
You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.
“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?
You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.
“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.
They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.
Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.
“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”
His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.
Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.
Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.
You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.
Cheeky bastard.
The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.
You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.
“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.
The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.
Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”
You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.
You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”
They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…
“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.
“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.
The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.
You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.
“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.
“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.
“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.
“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.
Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?
You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”
Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”
The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.
Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.
It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.
He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.
You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.
Fucking Christ.
Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.
An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.
“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.
As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.
“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.
You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.
“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.
“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”
You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.
Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”
Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”
You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.
“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.
Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.
All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”
That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.
“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.
He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.
“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.
Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”
He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.
“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”
All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.
“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”
The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.
“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.
Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.
Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”
“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.
“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.
“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.
“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.
It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.
You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”
Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.
You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.
“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”
It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.
“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”
You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“
“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.
You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.
Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.
“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.
“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.
“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?
“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.
“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.
“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“
“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.
You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.
So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.
There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…
You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.
You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.
That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.
“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.
“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“
“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”
“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.
“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.
You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.
“Y-you don’t have to-“
“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.
“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.
“Johnny behave himself?”
“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.
Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.
“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.
“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”
“You do.”
You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.
“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.
Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”
“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”
Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.
“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.
Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.
“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.
Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”
You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.
“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.
Oh.
Okay.
You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.
These men are going to be the death of you.
A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.
Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡
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mariasont · 5 months
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Lip Gloss - S.R
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a/n: wow this is really short and i feel like i overuse the lip gloss shtick but
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: in which spencer really likes your sparkly lip gloss
warnings: none? fluff
wc: 0.5k
Pink. Sparkles. Lip gloss. Those were the only thoughts running through Spencer's mind as he walked into the break room. Which this was a surprise to him because usually his mind was running a mile a minute--mathematical equations, book references, and case theories. But when you were near that was all reduced to a heaping pile of nothing. Especially now, as you leaned casually against the counter, in pink pumps and matching skirt that definitely wasn't up to the dress code, but he wasn't sure if you cared.
Cradled between your hands was a white mug, its side inscribed with the words 'Britney survived 2007. You can handle today' in stark black letters. He had no idea what it meant, but he noticed it was your favorite, a staple in your daily routine, unless it found its way to the top self, an inconvenience Spencer would subtly always rectify when he went to pour his own cup.
The focal point of his attention, however, was your lips, more precisely, the sheer layer of shimmering gloss that clung to them. Words were forming on those same lips, presumably directed at him, but they seemed to dissolve before reaching his ears, his gaze transfixed by the glistening movement of your mouth.
"Huh?"
With a smile, you pressed your glittering lips together and took a step in his direction. He managed to clear his throat, trying to redirect his attention to your eyes, but his gaze remained helplessly planted.
"I swear, half my routine is just reapplying this stuff after every sip," you said while your thumb worked diligently to wipe away the sparkling smudge from the mug.
"Considering the non-Newtonian fluid dynamics of the lip gloss's polymeric substances, which exhibit both viscous and elastic properties, it leads to a higher propensity for adhesion and cohesion on substrates with varying thermal coefficients."
Your fingers absentmindedly toyed with your earlobe as you cocked your head, a bemused furrow forming above your eyes, but your smile remained undiminished.
"Sorry, that went right over my head," you laughed, nose scrunching in the process. "But it's sweet of you to assume I caught all that."
"Oh, sorry, well, lip gloss is made of oils and waxes that give it that shiny appearance. However, these ingredients don't fully absorb to your skin, so when you press your lips against something, like a hot coffee cup, the excess transfers over."
Heat suffused his face as he registered the unwavering attention you afforded him, as if you were hanging on his every syllable. He sensed your struggle to comprehend, but your effort was evident. He really liked having your attention.
"So, with all that brainpower, do you have any tips for keeping my gloss on my lips instead of my mug?"
"Maybe a straw?"
Your laughter was like music to his ears, filling his senses as your hand, perfectly manicured, lightly touched his arm. A rush of warmth flooded his neck, and he looked at you, momentarily lost for words, as you murmured, "I'll try that out, thanks, Dr. Reid."
"Spencer," he corrects.
"Right, well, thank you, Spencer," you said, standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, before twirling on your heels, your smile lingering in the air.
Spencer could feel the stickiness on his skin, his fingers pressing against the spot you had left, feet glued to the ground. He starting to think he really likes lip gloss. 
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marvelstan0905 · 3 months
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"I really need someone"
Kenji Sato X [afab]reader (One Shot)
Best Friend AU
TW : Emi cameo/ screaming/ fainting/ swearing/ panicking/ fluffy/ slight angst/ petnames/ slight flirting/crude teasing/ mixed POV
©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.
The man had not been answering my calls and texts. I get it. He's busy..baseball and his own personal problems got him occupied but he was my best friend and he always..as in ALWAYS texted or notified me if he couldn't answer his phone. It had been days. Not even Mina was responding. I couldn't even get a chance to see him at his games because he left as quickly as he came. I decided to take things into my own hands.
I unlocked the door to Kenji's house and got inside. I thanked God he gave me the key and code to his house. I peeped inside his room and bathroom "Kenji?" I called out worried. I went to the kitchen and saw parenting books, spilled coffee and energy drink cans sprawled out on the table. I was confused however by the books.."What the?" I whispered with furrowed brows. My train of thought was stopped as I felt a rumble from downstairs.
I stopped moving and turned to the elevator that led to the basement. This was probably the only place Kenji didn't allow me to go in his house when I came over..but I mean..I am concerned for him. What if he's dead? Or hurt downstairs..I shook my head erasing any bad or irrational thoughts.
"Kenji..please forgive me" I whispered before getting into the elevator. As I pressed the button to the basement..I noticed that not even Mina had greeted at me at the door. Surely her systems couldn't be down. The elevator descended and I stepped out. I looked up and I was met with the most shocking sight..Ultraman holding a pink colored kaiju. Mina was off to the side playing some kid's cartoon. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened. That's when Ultraman noticed me and looked down at me.
"Oh my god! Y/N! W-What are you doing here? Mina!" Ultraman stammered quickly and put the kaiju baby into a containment unit. The kaiju didn't seem to fall asleep as she clawed at the walls of the unit. Ultraman's hand reached over and I screamed in ultimate terror. I stumbled to the elevator but didn't even manage a step as black spots clouded my vision and I passed out. Kenji was quick to transform back into his human self and caught his best friend.
"Kenji, it appears Y/N has entered the house" Mina reported. Kenji looked at Mina exasperated.
"No shit! Oh my god! Shit. How the hell am I gonna explain this?" Kenji murmured whiles gently patting his best friend's cheeks to wake her up.
"You could be honest because she's already seen Emi and Ultraman...in your basement" Mina responded whiles hovering over to Emi's containment unit and showing her games of Kenji's to keep her occupied. Kenji picked up his best friend and laid her on the couch. Kicking the drawer underneath his couch, Kenji grabbed a cool can of coconut water and pressed it against the cheek of his best friend. About 10 minutes passed before I fluttered my eyes open and groaned.
"Is this heaven?" I murmured as Kenji glanced down at me and sighed in relief. I blinked trying to adjust to the light.
"No, sweetcheeks..this hell." Kenji chuckled softly. I sighed and sat up rubbing my temples.
"Of course if you're here" I quipped. Kenji clicked his tongue and handed me a bottle of water. I looked around and my eyes widened when I saw a kaiju in a containment unit. I dropped the bottle"K-Kaiju.." I whispered fearfully as the memories from before I passed hit me like a freight train. Heavy and loaded.
"Calm down. Wait..let me explain okay? Just give me a few minutes" Kenji said softly whiles standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. His blue mauve eyes held desperation. I looked from him to the containment unit. I nodded. I took a good look at him, he had deep eye bags and he looked disheveled as if he hadn't slept in days. Kenji took a deep breath to calm his nerves before taking ahold of my hands.
"I am Ultraman. That Kaiju you saw over there is Emi. She's an infant kaiju. I found her when the KDF killed her mom, okay? I have to take care of her. I'm the only hope she has. This is why I haven't been answering my phone. I've been juggling alot. More than I can handle. I thought I could do it.."Kenji trailed off, rambling a little and a few tears fell down his cheeks. My eyes widened, I've never seen Kenji cry...let alone be deeply vulnerable like this. I put aside my shock as I gently squeezed his hands and wiped his cheeks softly. "I-I know it's alot to take in..I totally get it if you don't wanna be friends anymore...because you know this is alot"
I took a deep breath to properly take a second to process this. I gave Kenji a hug, considering he really needed one. "I'm not gonna leave. You might be an asshole but you're my asshole" I spoke softly. Kenji pinched me but hugged me tighter. "We..uh..still have alot to talk about but I'll help you out, dummy. You should've called me. You know..You're not an island"
"You know you're really mean when you're trying to console me but I appreciate it. T-Thank you..I promise I'll answer everything." Kenji murmured whiles hiding his head into my chest.
"You better, you owe a half dozen lunch dates. You're real shameless you know..those are my boobs" I whispered whiles hugging him and gently petting his head. Kenji pinched me again. I looked at the kaiju baby in the containment unit. Taking a good look at her..she seemed friendly and she was actually adorable.
"J-Just let me enjoy some peace" Kenji groaned "Thanks, sweetcheeks. It means alot though. I..I really need someone right now"
"I'll be your someone"
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hopesworlld · 7 months
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౨ৎ oh ! dear diary, i met a boy !
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — your stepbrother anakin finds your diary full of all your dirty little secrets
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 6k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, smut ( masturbation f and m, oral sex f and m, vibrator, degradation, praise, use of the term slut/little slut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, overstimulation ) i think that’s all !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — someone call the psych ward immediately !
part two part three masterlist
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anakin groaned in annoyance as he stormed up the steps at his mothers command asking him to fetch his stepsister for some reason or another. he barged into your bedroom not bothering to knock, he always liked seeing you jump, sometimes you were on your bed, phone dropping from your hands as your lips parted in surprise. other times you were perched at your vanity catching his eye in the mirror with horrified delight. but his favourite would always be when he entered your room to find you clad in nothing but a pair of white panties. your face had been painted crimson, eyes clutching your breasts but he could still see your rosy nipples peeking beneath your manicured nails, pert from the cold winter air.
but this time, much to his disappointment he found the room empty, your fairlights glittered along the ceiling and the pink lamp beside your bed cast light on the little book had seen you clutching to your chest every so often, it was hot pink and dotted with stickers of various celebrities that he despised. you had always been protective of it, even your father had once gained a slap to the hand when he tried to touch your book. so anakin knew he had no choice, he slowly entered the room further, noting the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. perfect.
he crossed your room in a matter of seconds and scooped up the book, flicking through a couple pages, the first few he saw held nothing of interest and he skimmed through. there were no dates but he could tell they were from before your father and shmi had bought the house and blended your family, he read a few sentences of you complaining about school, and friend drama and almost called it a bust. his innocent priss of a stepsister was the same in her diary as she was every day. that was until he skipped ahead and found his name appearing. with new found interest he settled down on your bed.
/ anakin came back from college today and he actually looked happy to see me, or he smiled when he got out of the car which is a first. i wish he would smile more, he looks so pretty when he smiles.
anakin scoffed at this, rolling his eyes, this had only been a few weeks ago and he had been laughing at a text just moments before, but of course you would think he was happy to see you. you always greeted him the same, glossy lips twisted in a saccharine smile as you bounced on the balls of your feet, begging for an ounce of attention from him. it was ridiculous, but he had to know more.
/ anakin is fixing up dad’s old car in the driveway so that he can use it, i’ve never been so happy for my father’s hoarding tendencies in my life. i was sat at my window for two hours today watching him. he was wearing that black wife beater, the one that makes his arms look even bigger than usual, so muscly and strong. i wonder what it would feel like for him to pick me up, and feel his muscles against my back, they look so good when they’re tensed. he was so sweaty too, i wanted to run out there and lick it from his skin, how disgusting but wow, i wish i took a picture of him like that. soaked in sweat and oil.
anakin’s jaw was agape, his sweet innocent stepsister wasn’t such an angel as he once thought. his dick twitched beneath his sweatpants at the thought of you perched on your window seat with a perfect view of him working rubbing your thighs together, desperate for his touch, his taste. it was taboo, disgusting, your parents were married and here you were writing dirty little fantasies. he loved it. addicted to the words you had spilled across the page in pretty gel pens.
/ dad asked me why i was so distracted today at dinner, how could i not be? anakin came down in just shorts and i swear i could see everything, he’s bigger than i imagined, i probably wouldn’t even be able to fit my hand around it, but ellen said boys like that. i wonder what it looks like, i’ve only ever seen them in porn. anakin didn’t even notice anything was off with me, didn’t notice me staring. i wish he would.
“fuck,” anakin hissed, his dick was now almost fully hard and throbbing. who knew you were such a slut, fantasising about his cock at the dinner table. if he had known… god he wanted to fucking ruin you. show you how to take his dick, watch as you choked and cried around it as he forced it past your swollen lips. he wanted to paint you in his cum and not stop until you were a shaking writhing mess. he knew you were hot, had thought it the second he saw you, your hair in braids clad in ivory like some kind of fallen angel but had pushed it away, you were his stepsister for fuck sake, but now…
/ he walked in on me changing today, i was only in my underwear and he laughed, but i caught him staring at my boobs, i made sure not to cover them properly and it worked. i got so wet, i don’t think i’ve ever come so hard before. i wanted him to do something, walk over to me and rip my hands away, push me on the bed and fuck me till i saw stars, but instead i just had to use my vibrator. sometimes i wish he could hear me moaning through the wall, maybe he can.
“little fucking slut,” anakin said to himself as he glanced across the page, hand cupping his rock hard cock through his trousers, your words were depraved, desperate. maybe he should walk into the bathroom right now and take you like you were so desperate for, you would have no trouble spreading your legs for him, would probably beg for it, do anything he asked. his perfect little fuck toy. he couldn’t help himself anymore, spitting on his hand and slipping it down his trousers tugging at his cock as he continued to read.
/ i bought a dildo today from ann summers but i’m scared, my fingers are so small compared to it, the woman said it was about average but wow. no matter how much prep i do it hurts. i bet anakin would feel better, the silicon is so hard and cold. i wore one of his t-shirts it smells like him, that helped a little but it’s not the same, i’ve heard his stories when he talks to his friends about the girls he’s fucked. he knows what he’s doing, i wonder how he would take me, on my back nice and slow, or pound into me from behind while i screamed. maybe he would call me angel like he does sometimes, i wish. now my arm just hurts so i’m here alone in my bed playing with my clit wishing it was him.
anakin jerked against his hand at the last sentence, he had never cum this quickly before, but your words had him loosing his shit, he couldn’t even imagine what else you thought if this was only what you choose to write down, what other dirty secrets lurked beneath that pretty facade of pink and glitter. the next page held a collection of polaroids you had taken of him, some from the window as he worked on his car, skin sheened in sweat and oil, shirtless as he drank a bottle of water. another of him laying on the sofa arm resting behind his head a can of beer in hand, and the last was him glaring at the camera. he remembered this one, he had demanded you rip it up, but here it was immortalized with pink and purple hearts surrounding it. but the next page was from today.
/ anakin came home from playing baseball with his friends about an hour ago, he was gross, sweaty and loud after hours with his friends. he slid past me in the kitchen his hands on my hips for just a second i wish he would have bent me over the counter and fucked me there and then. i would have let him, dad was in the living room but i don’t care, god, he’s ruined me. all i can think about is him, his cock, his hands, his lips. i need him. i’m gonna go shower, i was meant to help shmi with dinner but i couldn’t, not when i was soaking through my panties while stood next to her fantasising about her son.
“oh fuck,” anakin hissed as he came into his fist, cum coating his boxers and knuckles. you were insane, and maybe so was he for getting so worked up but he knew he couldn’t hold back now, he had seen those words and there was no going back. a bit shakily he stood from the bed wiping his hands on his sweatpants and grabbing the sparkly pen from your desk and decided to leave a little note of his own in your dirty little diary.
/ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl
and with that he left your bedroom, cum drying on his boxers, he could only hope you found his note sooner rather than later.
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after your shower you felt a lot better, you had turned the water considerably cooler than usual and taken some deep breaths you had learned from yoga, pushing anakin far from your mind, you let the ritual of getting redressed soothe your mind, slipping into a soft matching set of white shorts and a crop top, leaving your hair loose and applying your skin care. you almost felt like yourself, untainted by the dirty thoughts that seemed perpetually in your mind.
you wished it would stop, you hated yourself for it, your father was finally happy after years of thinking he would never find love again after your mother had passed. if he knew what you were thinking he would be disgusted, he would probably send you off to your aunt to protect anakin and shmi from your sick mind, the thought made your stomach hurt. you wanted to stop you really did, but then you would see him and all those dirty thoughts would slip back in, he was haunting you.
you headed downstairs, an airpod pressed in one ear hoping some music would soothe your guilty mind, finding shmi in the kitchen. the woman smiled in relief when she saw you.
“there you are, i sent ani up to get you half an hour ago,” she said a little flustered and instantly your heart dropped, you didn’t know why she was upset but she had needed you. you hated upsetting people, ‘always a people pleaser’ your mother had used to scold you fondly.
“i’m so sorry, anakin never told me,” you said truthfully and the woman sighed before laughing begrudgingly.
“my son has many talents, listening has never been one of them,” she said with a fond smile before turning back to the stove, “i’m making your dad that soup he loves so much but this recipe seems wrong, think you could help me out?” she requested holding out a sheet of paper to you and you took it immediately, nodding happily.
“of course,” you beamed, “well firstly it’s chicken stock not vegetable stock,” you informed her, “and secondly use heavy cream instead of milk, he likes the taste more. but other than that it seems perfect”
“really?” she asks you, face a little tight.
“yep, we always make it a little different depending on what we have but you have got this down to a t now i would say, and dads gonna love it,” you said and shmi finally smiled again, you hated when she frowned, it made her seem much older, an echo of the struggling woman she had once been and she didn’t deserve that, she never did.
“want to stay and help me make it?” she asked and you accepted. the pair of you worked in tandem, and soon you had a delicious pot of soup bubbling on the stove ready to be served along with homemade grilled cheese.
“okay, i’m gonna go grab your dad from the den do you mind getting, ani,” shmi asked and you agreed despite yourself, bounding out of the kitchen and up the stairs to anakin’s room, knocking once, then twice and then three times before you finally got a response.
“come in,” he called out, so you swung the door open, expecting a scowl or a blank stare but instead he was smirking widely at you, as though he knew something you didn’t and it made your skin crawl. “oh, hey, angel,” he greeted. fuck.
“dinners ready,” you told him, proud that you managed to keep your voice steady and his face dropped a little bit before his smile suddenly widened again.
“and you came to get me?” he asked teasingly, your stomach tightened, twisting into a ball and sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. he was going to kill you.
“your mum asked me to,” you say shortly, spinning around and walking away, taking a deep breath as you did so. stupid, stupid, stupid…
“angel,” anakin said again, and that name was going to send you into overdrive, a flush growing on your cheeks. “not gonna wait for me? that’s not very nice,” he complained and you shook your head.
“are you high?” you asked him as you reached the landing but anakin grabbed your wrist stopping you from heading down the steps.
“what makes you say that?” he asked you, drawing closer to you so that your faces were only inches apart, you could feel his hot breath fanning on your cheeks, see deep into his eyes, so pretty and blue beneath the crystalline lights above.
“your acting strange,” you pointed out with a frown, anakin was never nice to you, he was cordial sometimes, blunt others and sometimes he was simply rude, but never this. never teasing and friendly and chasing you down through the halls of your home to chat. it was as unnerving as it was utterly addictive.
“i just learned something new today, something that’s changed my perspective a little bit,” he crooned, hand coming up and resting on the wall beside your head, you blinked at him. what the fuck?
“what did you learn?” you asked him curiously and anakin grinned, a beautiful blinding thing that took your breath away.
“you’ll see,” was all he said before withdrawing from you and heading down the steps leaving you flabbergasted where you stood, heart racing and core throbbing. “come on, angel, don’t wanna be late for dinner,” he called up to you and you followed soundlessly, wondering if you had accidentally fallen into a different dimension while in the shower.
dinner was normal, or as normal is it could be with anakin acting so out of character, he was chatting like he hadn’t seen anyone in years, some kind of newfound zest for life that even had his mother seemed confused about but accepted with open arms. it was nice to see anakin talking, usually, he would mutter a few words before disappearing back to his room.
“yea, i was thinking of working at the garage next term to get a little extra cash, you know where you’re going to colleague next year, angel?” anakin asked, you looked over at him a little wide-eyed at the nickname in front of your parents, but glancing at them you saw that they both seemed… pleased.
“um, i have a few options actually, still not sure,” you murmured, still lost in what was happening, but it was making your head spin.
“she’s been looking at your school a bit,” your dad cut in, “it’s got a great program for what she wants to study,”
“oh really? maybe i could set something up for you, or maybe just give you a show around of the school next term, let you see what it’s really about,” anakin suggested with a smile and shmi beamed.
“oh that's a lovely idea, ani dear,” she exclaimed, “what do you think, sweetheart?” she asked her eyes darting to you and you pulled your lips into a smile.
“yea that sounds great,” you agreed, glancing back at anakin who sent you a wink. you almost groaned, rubbing your thighs together, you thought anakin being mean to you was enough to send you spiraling, spilling dirty fantasies into your book but him being nice was going to send you into a whirl of delusions that were going to be detrimental to your mental health if it continued.
once dinner was finished you rushed to your room, ready to spill your guts into your diary, you grabbed it from your bedside table and flicked to the next open page, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw the words scrawled on the page.
\ who knew you were such a dirty little slut, angel girl
“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, tossing the book down onto the bed, horror-struck. you knew that handwriting, had seen it many times before and now here it was taunting you in a book full of your sick twisted fantasies that all featured him. you felt nauseous, bile rising in your throat, is this why he was so happy, some sort of twisted revenge? had he taken pictures of it? did he plan on showing your dad? “this can’t be happening,” you whispered to yourself.
“i see you found my note,” a cocky voice echoed from behind you, you span around, lips trembling and anakin’s brows furrowed slightly.
“please don’t tell my dad, i’m so sorry anakin. i know it’s wrong and disgusting but please he will never forgive me if i ruin this for him, he loves your mum so much and i…” the world were tumbling from your lips so quickly you could hardly process them, not even noting as anakin shut the door behind him and crossed the room so that he was stood before you, “i’m sorry,” you practically wailed, “you were never supposed to see that, it was just somewhere to put down my thoughts,” tears were streaming down your cheeks now, “please don’t hate me,”
“you gonna be quiet now?” anakin asked you once you finally stopped rambling and you nodded through sniffles, vision blurred by your tears. “good,” he whispered, reaching up and cupping your cheek, “i’m not gonna tell your dad, angel,” he said soothingly, “not when i know how much fun we can have now,” anakin said with a smile.
“what… what are you saying?” you asked him. this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening right now. no way.
“i’m saying, that i wanna see just how dirty you can be, angel,” he cooed, “i wanna know the darkest parts of that fucked up little mind of yours,” your breathing hitched, raising your hands to wipe the tears from your ruddy cheeks and staring at him in disbelief.
“anakin…” you whispered, “this is wrong,”
“oh i know that, baby, but it didn’t stop you from burying your fingers into your cunt and imagining it was me. from laying in bed only a room away from me and moaning my name while you tried to use a dildo on yourself wishing it was me,” he hummed, “and what was it that you wrote earlier? that you were picturing me bending you over with your dad in the next room, that you couldn’t be with my mother in the kitchen because you were dripping down your thighs thinking about me,”
“oh fuck,” you moaned, hearing him depict your fantasies, the things you had said were driving you wild, something stirring within you, it set your veins alight with molten flames, spreading through your body and stirring your aching cunt, you could feel your arousal flooding your panties, sticky and wet, you didn’t know what to do, what to think but you needed him, more than you had ever needed anything in your life.
“that’s it, angel, i wanna hear every pretty sound you can make fall from your pretty lips,” anakin prompted, one hand falling to your hips and pulling you in so that your flush was pressed against him another moan falling from your lips when you felt his half hard cock press against your stomach. “what is it you want, tell me, what dirty secret are we sharing tonight?” he asked you.
“kiss me, just kiss me please,” you begged, and anakin obliged crashing his lips to yours, it was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit. immediately he was diving in, tongue prying through your lips and plunging into your mouth, he tasted of smoke, mint and sugar and instantly you were addicted. your hands rose to his shoulders, tugging him closer you wanted to feel every part of him. your hands tugged at his t-shirt wanting to taste his skin, to see him everywhere.
“so eager, baby,” he muttered against your lips before reaching behind him, tugging his t-shirt over his head revealing the planes of his chest and his toned stomach to your awaiting eyes, you had seen him shirtless many times before, but now you could touch him. “take what you want,” he grinned and you did just that, fingers dipping into every crevice, you explored him as though one would a fine piece of art you wanted to memorise the feeling of his skin, the taste, you hardly thought twice before leaning down and kissing the middle of his chest, running your tongue along the unblemished skin, moaning at the taste of salt and skin. “god,” the boy murmured, reaching down and grasping your hair, yanking your head back harshly, “take my sweatpants off,” he commanded and you were not one to disobey, not now, not when you had him.
you wrapped your hands around the waist band and tugged, gasping when his dick sprung free, unrestrained by any boxers beneath, he was already hard, really hard, his cock flushed a deep red, the tip weeping milky precum and gods were you right, he was big, long and thick, far bigger than the dildo you had purchased. you salivated at the sight.
“can i…” you whispered, slowly trailing off, a wave of embarrassment washing over you.
“tell me what you want, angel, this is your dirty little dream, i’m just helping make it come true,” anakin said and you nodded, taking a deep breath.
“wanna taste you, ani, can i?” you asked him gently, batting your lashes at him and the boy hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching in a way that made your entire body sing.
“fuck me, go ahead, pretty girl, show me what that mouth is actually good for,” his words were disgusting, a sick way of calling your words worthless and it made you go fucking feral, you sank to your knees, eyeing his cock a little unsurely before carefully wrapping a hand around his thick length, anakin groaned, watching you, eyes alight with interest.
“look at that you were right,” he told you, “your hand can’t even fit around it,” he said, and you shuddered, ingjerking your hand slightly, letting itit glide along the velvety skin of his cock, admiring it, and the sound he made was worth it, so much so that you leaned in, licking a stripe along the side of his cock, stopping once you reached the tip and suckling it gently. a.nakin’s hands fell to your hair gripping it, but not forcing you, he was letting you explore first, you bobbed you head, sinking deeper on his cock, the sensation was strange but not unpleasant. so you took him deeper, the salty taste of him drawing you in further, you pulled back, sucking in a deep breath before taking him deeper until it hit the back of your throat. you were hardly halfway down his cock, so you tried again this time more forcefully, choking when his cockhead rammed into the back of your throat.
“easy, baby,” anakin cooed, pulling you off of his cock, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, spit spilling down your chin.
“you’re so big,” you whined at him accusingly making the boy laugh, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“poor little slut, so desperate for cock but has no clue what she’s doing,” he patronised, thumb trailing down and hooking in your mouth, parting your lips for him, you let your mouth fall open. “gotta take it slow, you aren’t gonna take it all the first time, okay? probably not for a few times, gotta train that throat of yours to take cock, huh?” he asked and you nodded at him, unable to speak with his thumb in you mouth. “try again, huh,” he prompted and you nodded eagerly, this time letting anakin guide your mouth to his awaiting cock, you followed his instructions going slower this time, starting at just the tip suckling it, savoring the taste of his salty cum in your mouth but eventually anakin began to push you further with a groan. you swallowed around him, trying to remember to breathe with the heavy weight on your tongue, your mouth felt stretched, lips stinging, and jaw aching but you couldn’t stop. you needed this, needed him to cum, to know he was enjoying this as much as you were.
“good girl, that’s it,” anakin praised you and you preened, moaning around his cock and making the boy chuckle, “oh you like that, huh, pretty girl? wanna be my good girl?” you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak so instead you locked your eyes with his and this time it was anakin’s turn to moan. “you look so fucking sexy like this, should have known you made for it,” you bobbed your head faster in agreement, it felt wrong to agree, to accept that you were just some sort of object that was made to take dick and love it, but you couldn't argue. not now when you had tasted his cock and you knew you would never be the same again, this was it for you, a springboard into a world that would drive you insane.
“you keep going i’m gonna cum, you ready for that, angel?” he asked you, but you didn’t respond, only forcing him deeper, spluttering slightly but you didn’t pull back, instead taking a settling breath through your nose, spit was dripping down your chin, tears streaming but you couldn’t stop, continuing to choke on his cock, only pulling away when you absolutely had too and it was barley for a few seconds before you were on him again. it was only about a minute before anakin’s hips began to twitch, his cock heavier in your mouth.
 “i’m gonna cum, fuck, baby pull back a little you don’t wanna choke,” he prompted and you did as you were told. lips suctioned around his tip, using your hand to jerk off the rest of his cock and with that, he was cumming down your throat in thick hot spurts. it was disorientating and everything you had ever dreamed of. you swallowed as much as you could of the salty liquid, but some escaped the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin and onto your plush carpet, you kept suckling until anakin pulled you away, his lips parted and cheeks flushed.
“that was…” he trailed off voice hoarse, “you did such a good job, angel,” he cooed, reaching out and helping you stand up, your knees ached and you felt a little shaky but you couldn't ignore the heat in your core and the sopping wetness between your legs.
“i liked it,” you said bashfully, voice scratchy.
“of course you did,” anakin mocked lightly but there was no malice behind his words, instead he reached down and grabbed his shirt using it to mop your cheeks and mouth, “come on i wanna try something,” he said, grabbing you hand and leading you over to your bed, “lay down, pretty girl,”
“what are you doing?” you asked him softly and he grinned.
“just lay down, okay, i’m gonna do the work for a bit,” he said, so you followed instruction and laid down on the bed, looking up at him with such innocent trust that it made his heart stutter slightly, “i’m gonna take your top off okay?” he said, climbing onto the bed with you and hovering over you, his legs stradling either side of your hips, he looked so big like this, tall and strong, body on show as he looked down at you.
“okay,” you agreed, letting anakin tug the crop top from your body leaving your chest bare to him.
“been waiting a while to see these again,” he murmured, finger pinching your nipple lightly, you gasped, jolting upwards at the sensation and anakin laughed, “sensitive girl,” he teased, pinching your other nipple, using his body to keep you pinned to the bed. “what was it you said in that dirty little book when i saw your tits for the first time?” he asked you, “hm, let’s have a look shall we?” he said grabbing the book from where it lay only a few inches away from you. your cheeks lit up in shame, shaking your head.
“ani, no,” you pleaded with him but the boy shot you a harsh stare.
“what was that, baby?” he questioned, tone stern, “i thought you wanted this? want me to leave you to deal with this alone like you always do, seeing my cock should do you a good couple months, and you even got to taste it,”
“don’t leave” you begged, “i’m just embarrassed,” you whimper, this brought the smile back to anakin’s face.
“you don’t need to be embarrassed, pretty girl, without this little thing you would probably still be downstairs watching tv with your dad trying not to think about me, isn’t that right?” he asked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your swollen lips.
“yes,” you said quietly, “just don’t be mean, i really… i needed you. i need you,”
“oh, baby, but you like it when i’m a little mean don’t you?” he snickered, “but back to what i was saying, where is it?” he asked flicking through the pages of the book before he found what he was looking for, “ah, here it is. you wanted me to push you onto this bed and fuck you till you saw stars,” you whimper at this, “and look how proud you were that you caught me staring at your tits,” he grinned, “pretty things aren’t they,” he leaned down, capturing your right nipple between his teeth, nibbling slightly before sucking it into his mouth. the sensation was too much, you gasped, trying to jerk against him but anakin was too strong, he bit down on your nipple, a warning before soothing it with his tongue, moving and doing the same to the other one until you were a panting mess.
“good girl,” he praised, “now this wasn’t what i wanted to do actually, just had to get a taste,” he told you with a wink and you blinked at him stunned. “where do you keep your vibrator, angel?” anakin questioned you.
“um, my bedside draw,” you murmured and anakin nodded, leaning over and opening up and pulling out your pretty pink vibrator.
“cute,” he said, “now, baby, i want to see you use this, okay? wanna know what you look like when you are playing with yourself and thinking about me,” he crooned.
“ani, i’m… fuck okay,” you said reaching out and taking the vibrator from him, anakin climbed off of you and you immediately missed the weight of him atop of you but ignored it was you yanked your shorts and panties down, revealing your throbbing pussy to anakin, the boy groaning in apprecation.
“holy shit, you’re fucking soaked, angel,” he crooned, “look at your clit, all puffy and red. all from sucking my cock?” anakin asked and you nodded, cheeks crimson. “you are a dream, pretty girl,” your clit pulsed at his words and quickly you pressed your vibrator to it before switching it on. your body writhed at the contact, you had been desperate for this for what felt like hours, every inch of your being aching for relief as you trailed the toy down, soaking it in your wetness before bringing it back to your clit, moaning at the feeling.
“fuck, anakin, feels so good” you cried out, tilting your head to look at him and seeing him gazing at your pussy in awe.
“i bet it does, angel, you were so sore, so desperate for this,” he said, reaching out and trailing a finger along your dripping slit, your hips jerked, heart pounding, “gonna come that quick, fuck, do it, baby,” he prompted. you pressed the toy harder to your clit gasping and crying out, the sight of anakin before you, the months of waiting, wanting, it all built up and before you could even react the coil in your stomach snapped and you came with a sharp moan, the vibrator still pressed to your cunt as you twitched through the aftershocks of your orgasm. then you felt it, something wet and warm trailing through your fold, you looked down to see anakin now lying between your legs, his tongue buried in your cunt.
“ani” you sobbed, switching the vibrator off and tossing it to the side, anakin taking this as his chance to wrap is lips around your clit and suck. you all but screamed, still strumming with pleasure and overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you, it was hypnotic.
“did i tell you to stop?” he asked pulling back and grabbing the vibrator and flicking it on, pressing to to your abused clit, you gasped, looking down at him with wide eyes, “you are gonna hold this while i eat you out okay, you move it and i’ll stop,” he commanded.
“but, ani, it’s so sensitive,” you told him and anakin simply scoffed.
“you can take it, sluts like you can come as many times as you need to, bet you are still aching for relief,” he said pressing it down harder and you screeched, “take it,” and you did, grabbing the toy from his hand and holding it there as he burried his tongue back inside of you, licking into your sopping walls.
“oh my god, oh my god, anakin please,” you begged one hand slipping down to his hair, tugging on the dark strands with a sob. the vibrator on your clit was brutal, stirring up another orgasm in quick sucession to the last but anakin didn’t stop, he continued to lick and suck while you trembled, slick pouring from your slit as you jerked violently, cumming twice before anakin finally let up.
“you taste fucking divine, angel,” anakin said, his face glossy with your cum, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think as he switched the vibrator off and tossed it to the ground. “fuck me, i’ve never seen such a pretty girl before,” he crooned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before crawling up your body and pressing a dirty kiss to your lips. he tasted of salt and your release and it made your body ache once more.
“ani, ani, please,” you begged against his mouth, you werent sure exactly what you were begging for but you needed it, needed him.
“sh, angel, its okay,” he said gently, running his hands down your hips sothingly, “tell me what you need” he prompted and you wailed, he looked stunned, “hey, come on talk to me, too much?” he questioned but you shook your head violently.
“need to feel you,” you said through heaving breaths, clumsily reaching out and grasping his cock that pulsed in your hand, he spluttered out a moan, rocking his hips into you, head of his cock catching your clit with such delicious pleasure that you swore you almost saw stars. “inside,” you demanded, words failing you in that moment of utter want.
“need to prep you first,” he said, gently removing your hands from his cock before sliding his fingers through your throbbing heat finding your slit with ease and slowly sinking one finger in.
“more,” you begged almost instantly, hands clinging to his shoulders and anakin complied, sinking another finger inside of you, pumping into your wet heat as you babbled and cried.
“never imagined i would have you like this, so desperate for me,” anakin panted, “wanna know a secret, i’ve wanted this for so long, have pictured taking you so many times,” he whispered, “i came reading your diary, seeing how much you wanted me,”
“anakin,” you said, hands coming to his cheeks cupping them so that he would face you, you could see the raw desire that danced behind his pretty blue eyes, “i’m ready, please,” and he complied, slowly lining his cockhead with your swollen hole slowly inching in. the burn was intense, a tearing feeling consuming your cunt even as you leaked more slick onto his sodden cock. you gasped, more tears streaming down your cheeks as anakin slowly inched deeper.
“you can do it, baby, doing so well for me,” he praised as he sunk deeper, inch by inch before burying himself at the hilt and staying there, “look at that, angel, you did it,”
“oh, oh fuck,” it was nothing like your dildo that was all solid plastic and cold feel, instead it was warm and hard and sending your body into overdrive, it took a few moments to adjust to the feel of it, the intrusive weight uncomfortable but not unwelcomed, and it was all worth it to see anakins face. his eyes screwed up in pleasure, bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he tried to stay still for you. “move, you can move, please,”
“you sure, baby,” anakin gasped, voice tight.
“yes, please,” you agreed, he started slow at first, gentle shalow thrusts that allowed you to get used to the feeling of it, but soon he began to speed up, sinking deeper inside of you with each thrust until you could feel the tip pressing against your cervix, the pleasure was indescribable, you never knew it could feel like this, so all consuming. “yes, yes, harder,” you pleaded with him.
“you sure,” he gasped out.
“yes, i’m okay,” you nodded, and anakin listened, suddenly there was nothing between you but the heat of your skin and the slick of your bodies, a mix of sweat, cum and spit. it was disgusting, a sick merging of your bodies, anakin’s face was burried in your neck, sucking crimson marks onto your sensitive skin while you clawed at his back, manicured nails cutting into his golden skin.
“shit, you feel fucking amazing,” anakin said against your skin, grinding deeper, “such a good little pussy for me, taking me so well,” he told you, “you need to come on my cock again, wanna feel you cleanch around me, okay?” he said and you nodded frantically.
“please, ani,”
“that’s it, good girl,” he cooed, thumb coming between you to circle your clit, you could feel your orgasm building as he jerked into you, his thrusts getting sloppy and you knew he was close, could tatse it on your tongue, you needed it, needed him. “i own this pussy now,” he hissed, “gonna make every single one of your dirty fantasies come true and then we can try some of mine,” anakin told you, thumb speeding up and pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, everything went white and you were gone. when you came too anakin was hovering over you still cock in hand jerking himself off frantically.
“ani,” you whispered, hand coming up shakily and grasping his cock jerking it lightly and anakin came in thick hot spurts all over your chest and face while you took it happily. he collapsed down beside you, pulling you in so your face was pressed against his chest, leg cocking over his hips. “wow,” was all you managed to say.
“better get ready baby, this was only the beginning,” anakin smirked, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forhead and you couldn’t wait to see what else he had in store for you, and you thanked the stars that you had made that little diary.
▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁
part 2???
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sturnslcver · 7 months
Note
Being bsf with nick but Chris likes reader and always tries to be near her
ੈ✩‧₊˚STUCK ADJACENT ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨
 — chris sturniolo x fem reader —
— fluff, no warnings!
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“can we try somewhere else we always go there?” you roll your eyes, slipping your socks on. “all the other boba shops around here taste like hand sanitizer” nick protested. “you’re going to all the wrong spots” you reply swiping nicks phone from his hands. “this place!” you point to his phone. “my sister used to take me here all the time. it’s actually good i swear” nick sighs, making his way toward the counter to retrieve his keys. he glances around before shouting for chris. “yeah?” “wheres my keys?” no response. chris’ footsteps thud as he hops downstairs. “what?” “i can’t find my keys” nick complains. chris points to the door. “i hung them up. where are you guys headed?” “boba shop” you vaguely retort. “can i go?” “uhh.. i don’t know. if nicks okay with it, im okay with it.” you smile. nick turns back toward chris. “no.” before chris can utter a rebuttal nick cuts him off. “you don’t even like boba” “sorry chris.” you shrug your shoulders. he sighs, slowly making his way back toward his room.
a couple hours pass. your stomachs full of strawberry and matcha boba. you and nick walking across the beach, exchanging laughs and comical remarks. it’s already pitch black out. you’re interrupted with multiple vibrations emitting from your phone, lighting up the screen. it’s chris. you briefly skim his messages reading, “when are you guys getting back?” and “are you on the way?” you nudge nick with your shoulder, revealing your texts to him. “let’s just go. it’s dark already anyways.” nick huffs.
nick closes the door behind you both as you slip off your uggs. you take his empty cup in your hands, disposing of both yours and his. “hey” chris appears from outside the hallway. “what’s up?” you sigh, bringing your phone up, showing chris his previously sent messages. “i don’t know. matts already laying down and i’m bored.” nick weaves through the both of you and plops himself down on the couch. “do you guys wanna watch a movie then?” you look at chris and nod before heading for the couch. you immediately take notice to how close chris seats himself to you. the sides of your legs and arms are practically touching. “chris” you mumble slightly annoyed before scooting a bit. throughout the movie, he just inches his way back in. you accept defeat and exhale, bringing your head to his shoulder and crossing your arms. his hair tickles your cheek as he begins to contort different shapes around your leg with his finger. you move your leg, gently brushing him off. he starts up again. this time, on your arm.
growing irritated with chris, you stand and make your way to nicks room. “i’m just gonna head up” you pause turning to nick. he nods before you’re back on your way. chris leans forward, shuffling up behind you. he trickles his fingers lightly beside your waist. you quickly shove them away. “chris!” you hiss at him, in a stern whisper. he throws his hands in the air, turning toward his bedroom, as you head to nicks.
your awoken by a backhand to your cheek. you turn to see nick, shuffling in his sleep. you lean up a little to check the time. it’s only one in the morning. you toss and turn in attempt to fall back asleep and fail miserably. you sigh before sitting upright and gently tiptoeing to the door, careful not to wake nick.
you leave two soft knocks at chris’ door, in hopes he’s still awake. “yeah?” he calls out. “hey” you smile creaking the door open. “what’s up?” chris replies. you shut the door and make your way to his bed, sitting on the edge. “i don’t know. i can’t sleep.” chris pats the bed, signaling you to scoot up next to him, with his arms open. you oblidge. “that’s okay” he speaks softly into your hair, pushing it out of your face. “you can sleep in here tonight, if you want?” you nod, relieved. “sorry for yelling at you earlier…but really? what’s up with you lately?” you chuckle. chris runs his knuckles softly up and down your arm and sighs. “i don’t know” “yeah you do.” you imply smiling. “i guess… i just like to be around you.” he admits. “and i really wanted to be with you today.” you run a hand through chris’ hair. “you could’ve just said so. i would’ve made time for you” “yeah?” “yeah.” you reassure. you lean into chris, attentive to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, while also tracing different shapes around his chest. he scratches your back and you immediately melt into his touch. he then brings his unoccupied hand around you, intertwining both of your fingers. you feel his warm and steady breaths in the crook of your neck as the both of you doze off into one another.
sorry i gave up halfway through. this took so long. i wrote like half and it didn’t save and i had to rewrite it. i hope it’s not too bad. keep the requests coming :) im responding to all of them rn!!
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illyrianbitch · 13 days
Text
Of Our Own Devices
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For @erisweekofficial Day 1: Bargains
Pairing: Reader x Eris
Summary: Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother.
Warnings: some mentions of death & injury, swearing, spitfire reader and a cunty eris. <3
Word Count: 3.2k
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
The storm had rolled in with frightening speed.
It was one of the rarer, powerful storms of Autumn. The type that caused the sky to turn to charcoal, produced lightning that illuminated the canopy of fall leaves and made them seem like flickering, live fires. 
You stumbled into the dimly lit cabin, drenched from the rain that had come pouring down in sheets. The cabin was one you had never seen before— a hidden refuge of Eris’s that you weren't aware existed. Despite its small size, it was surprisingly beautiful, furnished with deep, velvety fabrics. Eris had pulled you into the home without a word. 
Crossing your arms across your chest, you turned to him, watching as he shed his outer layer and hung it on a hook near the door. He moved to the cold, empty fireplace next, and with a flick of his fingers, he summoned a flame from his hand.  The flame danced briefly in his palm before he extended it toward the blackened wood in the hearth. 
Seconds later, a crackling sound filled the room, bringing the fire to life and filling the space with a warm, golden glow. Eris watched the flames for a moment. Then he stood up, facing you once more. 
"You promised me I'd be in Spring by tonight," you said. 
Eris tsked, brushing past you as he sat himself on a velvet, red couch. His scent lingered in the air—a smoky, strong aroma. A shiver ran through your body. You attributed the reaction to the influence of the rain on your warm skin. 
He didn't bother to meet your eye as he responded. "I promised no such thing. I said I'd take you to Spring tonight."
"Then take me."
He raised a brow and for a moment, you almost expected him to make a childlike comment, a brutish joke about the sentiment those words could hold outside of the context. But he didn't. His eyes, however, told you that he was thinking about it. It was unnerving, how you could read him so well, how years at Lucien's side had come with an unexpected consequence: becoming familiar with his brothers, too.
"It's a storm. Winnowing is risky in this weather," he said smoothly, voice as cool as ever. "I’m not risking both our lives just because you're impatient."
The wind howled outside the cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as you took a deep breath— in through your nose, out through your mouth. The eldest Vanserra noticed the frustration immediately, and your efforts to calm yourself dissipated as a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I’m not staying here,” you snapped. “I’ll walk if I have to.”
At first glance, the couch appeared almost pristine, but as the firelight grew and you paid closer attention, you could make out traces of dark grey, black, and brown hairs—the hair of his hounds.  The detail settled somewhere inside you. You weren't sure where.
“If you do that, you’ll either die of exposure or run into my father’s men. Either way, not a great plan.”
You froze, your hands tightening around the fabric of your cloak as you grasped your arms, fingernails digging into the material. “So my options are to stay here with you or die?”
He shrugged lazily, but the motion still held a sense of regality to it, an eerily elegant form. It made you even angrier.
“Seems so," he said, a smile forming on his lips. It was as warm and genuine as a snake’s kiss, much like the disarming charm you had come to expect from Eris.
You'd never spent this long with him alone, never needed to manage his calculated gaze or purposely chosen words without the buffer of Lucien. You would've gladly gone your entire immortal life without doing so. But you missed Lucien— your heart ached without him, longed to be near him, to have his laugh echo in your ears. And this was the only way to be with him again, even for a few days.
And Eris knew that. He knew it all. You assumed it was why he bothered to take you in the first place. It gave him the pleasure of knowing he had power– control.
Your blood boiled.
“Are you enjoying this?” You stormed toward him, standing over the couch as he stretched, clearly unbothered by the storm—or your anger. “Trapping me here, knowing I have no choice.”
“Trapping you?” He laughed softly, sitting up slightly to meet your gaze. “You came to me, Vixen. If you want to go, the door’s right there.”
The sound of the wind howling through the trees outside made his offer ring hollow. You struggled to rummage through your thoughts, through the anger, frustration, and disgust that he managed to stir in you.
The stupid, stupid nickname was all you could focus on, now. Memories of a younger you flooded your senses, memories of a younger Eris, one much less rigid, much more open, almost. An Eris you crushed on. You'd never admit the truth to anyone— that the reason you and Lucien had become so close, despite your natural connection, was because once upon a time, he was glued to his older brothers hip. And so you'd glued yourself to Lucien's.
Eventually, the years evened things out, and your feelings flowed from the eldest Vanserra to the kindest one. To Lucien.
Lucien. Your mind reminded you. This was for Lucien. Don't piss Eris off, don't ruin your chances at seeing him again. Don't engage—
"Stop calling me that, you arrogant prick."
Your hands dropped to your sides, instinctively curling into fists as Eris peered at you with a burning, amused stare. His amber eyes gleamed like a predator toying with its prey.
"I see Lucien's absence has impacted your ability to maintain that temper. Those breathing exercises not working well for you?"
Something twisted deep in your gut.
"Now that I think about it, I think I'll take my chances with the storm."
Before you could make a move to leave, Eris was standing, his chest now inches away from you as he peered down at you. You didn't move, then, only straightened your shoulders and met his gaze.
Eris wasn’t the beefy, broad-shouldered type that other males in the court might have been. He didn’t have large, bulging muscles meant to intimidate. Instead, he was a lean kind of strong, with a pointed nose and sharp features that cut through the dim light of the cabin. He exuded a different kind of intimidation, one that stemmed from his inherent authority and the staunchness of his posture. He carried himself like a prince—elegant and commanding, every inch of him a testament to his future role.
Beron was merely keeping the throne warm until Eris was ready to claim it for himself.
"We both know you're not going to do that."
You tightened your fists further. "And why not?"
"Because you aren't stupid, Y/n."
Eris cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face with a cold, calculating gaze. His features were sharp and chiseled, the faintest freckles dotting his high cheekbones. 
"You're not going to risk losing your chance to see Lucien."
 He leaned down and his breath fanned your face, warm and mingling with the scent of cedar and smoke. His eyes danced across your face, moving from holding your gaze to traveling further down, lingering on your lips—on the scowl you wore on them—before he met your eyes again. The fire's flames grew larger, consuming the oxygen in the air that had already seemed to be thinning. 
You said nothing as he continued, "Uncurl those fists, take that soaked cloak off, and wait. "
You stayed quiet, taking a deep breath before you stepped to the side, purposefully brushing your shoulder against his broad chest as you moved. Despite your urge to resist him out of spite, you reluctantly removed your cloak and tossed it on the clean floor of the cabin.
Eris scoffed. "Really? Must you act like a child?"
The floorboards cracked as he walked and, faintly, he mumbled something about how his hounds were better mannered. Eris picked up your cloak, dusting it off with a gentle hand before hanging it up next to his own.
"I'm curious," he began, glancing over his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. "Does Lucien know?"
You glared at him. You were growing tired now, the exhaustion of the trip slowly growing deep in your bones.
"What are you talking about?"
Eris smirked, his gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint as he settled back on the couch. "I'm talking about how you're in love with my sweet, sweet little brother."
You stiffened, a wave of emotion crashing over you—cold and awakening, a nauseating mix of embarrassment and fury. 
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Eris's face remained insufferably composed, a cocky grin playing at his lips. His eyes gleamed with a self-satisfied spark.
"No need to lie. It's just us two here," he purred. "I've always enjoyed how honest we can be with one another. It's why I preferred you over Jesminda."
A sharp, uncontrollable heat seared through every nerve in your body, a wave of anger surging like a wildfire.
"Keep her name out of your mouth."
It felt like a disgrace to have him say it, to hear her name immortalized on the tongue of the brother that allowed her to die. The brother that had killed her, according to Lucien. His sobs still echoed in your mind, the image of a broken male etched into your memory. You'd had only five minutes with him before he fled, five minutes of frenzied packing, desperate promises, and anguished confessions of what his father—and his brothers—had done.
Eris's gaze lingered as he analyzed you.
A beat passed.
Then another.
You were beginning to feel naked, as if he had stripped you of every defense you'd managed to muster around him. You turned away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer.
"I didn't kill her. I didn’t help.”
Your face went slack, caught off guard and momentarily confused. You pulled yourself together quickly, straightening your back, hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction.  As you turned a little, your face almost sad now, you could’ve sworn you saw something in his eyes—something akin to regret, maybe even compassion.
Your voice was low, not bothering to hide the sadness, mourning, the raw anger, as you responded.
“I don’t believe you.”
The trace of care in his gaze vanished as he shrugged, the same indifferent gesture he’d made earlier. “Have I ever lied to you?”
You stared at him, taking him in with the same analyzing gaze he'd offered you. 
It was strange how alike he and Lucien looked, how alike yet so different all the same. But the longer you stared, the more you began to feel stuck— hypnotized, tempted to walk closer to him, to ask him what it was that went on in his mind, what caused those flickers of emotions you couldn't name across his face. 
But another moment passed, and all you could see was a male who Lucien hated, a male who was selfish, who reveled in the pain caused by chaos.  Your mind drifted to other rumors and stories you’d heard about him. You settled on one in particular. 
"You left an innocent female to die in the woods because she didn't want to mary you. Butchering your brother's lover doesn't seem outside of your past-times."
A cold shift washed over Eris’s face. His disinterested expression hardened into a mask of disappointment, then flared into a simmering anger. It was a contained fury, like a finely tuned flame.
"Don't tell me you believe the lies of Night Court trash. Surely you're smarter than that. I know you are."
"Fuck you," you snarled. "You know nothing about me. I'm not going to let you play some twisted mind games with me. I'm not a doll."
He shook his head. "You are not."
A beat. Then a smirk grew on his lips. "But you are just as pretty as one, if we're still being honest. You're wasted in your one-sided love, Y/n."
You said nothing, turning to walk to the other side of the cabin. The corner held a bookshelf with carefully arranged volumes, a finely crafted wooden table, and a collection of artifacts on the windowsill.
Eris just laughed behind you, a sound so smooth and soothing that it felt sinful against your skin.
You resisted the temptation to snoop, to explore the cabin and bask in the rare vulnerability of the brother who had always captivated you in the most wretched of ways. It felt strange seeing him like this—relaxed, almost at ease— as if simply crossing the threshold of this modest cabin had stripped away the invisible chains and burdens only a prince could bear.
You stayed still and stared out the window, focusing on the sounds of the storm. You hoped that the rain would drown out the sounds of his breathing— sounds that rang too loud in your mind. You didn't want to know why he seemed to do that, why he lingered so deeply in your head. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The storm raged on for a few more hours.
The time was spent in tense silence—at least for you. Eris remained on the couch, reading through a novel about the history of the continent. You would've never thought him to enjoy such a thing, to want to know about those outside of his court, of mortals, humans, no less.
And when the rain finally stopped, he rose wordlessly. With a brief gesture toward your cloak, he led you out, winnowing you the rest of the way in silence.
When you finally reached the border of Spring, a wave of relief washed over you.
The vibrant greens of the new season were almost blinding after the gloom of the storm. You took a step forward, eager to escape the tension that had gripped you for hours. You'd be with Lucien soon, be able to hug him, to tell him of all the things he'd missed in your life since his exile. 
But before you could move any further, Eris's hand closed around your arm. You turned to him with a glare, meeting his glowing gaze and infuriatingly calm smile.
“Are we forgetting payment?”
You strengthened your glare, gritting your teeth before you pulled yourself out of his grasp, reaching for the small bag hidden within your layers. 
Eris stopped you with a casual wave. “I don’t want your money.”
You stiffened, straightening your posture. The sounds of Spring echoed behind you, their vibrant melodies almost taunting as you lingered on the border. Eris’s smile shifted into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that made you swallow instinctively. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”
You thought back to how he had offered to take you to Lucien, how this entire arrangement had been his idea. You should've held back, should've been more wary of his motives. But you'd been too excited, been too blinded by the joy of being with Lucien once more. 
“What do you want, Eris?” 
He took a moment to take you in fully, eyes scanning you from head to toe, and then he took a small step back.
“A bargain,” he finally said.
 “A bargain?” 
He nodded. “You will not tell Lucien it was me who brought you here.”
You frowned, a crease forming between your brows as you blinked at the male before you. Perhaps you'd heard him wrong. “What?”
“If he asks, you’ll say you bought off a hunter in Autumn, a mercenary. Whatever you’d like,” Eris continued.
You drew your brows tighter. 
“I thought you'd want to revel in the fact that he might somehow owe you. Prove your power, even."
Eris shrugged nonchalantly. “Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you’d like to think.”
He extended his hand, his palm open and the gleam of his ring-clad fingers catching the light. You hesitated for a moment, body still stiff with unease, with confusion. 
You scanned his face. Eris loved played games. This was no different. There was no point in reading into it. So you rolled your eyes and prepared to shake on it, reaching for his hand.  He pulled it slightly out of reach.
“What now?” You groaned.
He hummed in amusement.
“And when I come to get you to return to Autumn, I want your help.”
You raised a brow. “My help?” you asked, incredulously. "How the hell would I ever be able to help you?"
Your family had no title, no powers beyond a tame ability to fight and heal. You survived in Autumn because you were ordinary—and ordinary meant no one looked for you. Noticed you. 
“I want to call in a favor,” he clarified.
“What favor?"
"We'll see," Eris said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “I think you could help me out dearly."
You let his words settle for a moment. His eyes, glistening with a dangerous glow, seemed to hold something predatory, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There must've been an underlying threat in his proposition, something sinister you had yet to notice. After all, he was a male known for his ruthlessness— 
You stiffened.
He was a male. There was one easy way for males to assert their dominance, to gain pleasure, to accept payment. 
You took a step back instinctively and Eris’s gaze tracked your movement before returning to meet your eyes. A shadow flickered in his eyes, reminiscent of the dark, unsettlingly soft gleam you’d seen in his cabin when he first glimpsed your saddened expression. Seconds later, his face shifted to one of mild amusement. He rolled his eyes with an empty chuckle.
“Settle yourself, Y/n. Not that kind of favor. I can bed females without resorting to bargaining for their affections,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.
A flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. You looked to the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath as you regained your composure. When you finally met his gaze again, he was already extending his hand towards you once more.
“A favor in the future in exchange for this time with Lucien,” he purred smoothly. “And your silence. Consider it our little secret.”
The smirk that grew on his lips was maddening and you could feel the heat of his gaze, the flickering fire of his amber eyes urging you to comply. Every instinct told you that binding yourself to him was a terrible idea.
You glanced back over your shoulder, looking to the green, sunny expanse behind you. Lucien was there, somewhere amongst the greenery, and with a simple bargain you'd be with him again. 
Without a second thought, you turned back to Eris and took his hand.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
happy eris week yall!!! rising from the dead specifically to post this lol, i fear i love this pairing so lets see if i decide i wanna write anything else for them. thank you for reading!! (i miss writing so so so much)
i might make this into a miniseries, so lmk if you’d like
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@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters
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@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire
459 notes · View notes
ilygetou · 1 year
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hii evey, i was recalling our conversation last time and i just couldn’t stop thinking about feral! rin. it’s haunting me. please. sos help.
‎╰─▸ ❝ S‎ER0T0N1N!‎ ❞
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C/W: dubcon just in case, jealous! feral! rinny :(, pwp, unprotected sex, thoughts of baby trapping but rin isn’t an asshole, overstimulation, marking, lots of biting, possessiveness, hair pulling, ass slapping, no aftercare kinda of a sick twisted ending but rin turns soft >_<.
notes. AVAAA‼️‼️ NO BECAUSE ME2. that convo was wild, had me giggling n’ kickin my feet i literally screamed into my pillow. like. jealous rin? jealous rinny going feral?? sign me the fuck up😭🙏🙏😭
psa. this is kinda rushed ?? i wrote this during my two hours plane ride cause i was saurr bored and had nun 2 do☹️ so please excuse the terrible ending! + not proofread pls be aware of grammatical mistakes if there’ll be any.
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Your moans were echoing throughout the huge room, with every thrust of rin’s hips, an audible moan left you. Rin was fucking you in an absurd pace, ignoring your sobs n pleads for him to slow down, to give you time to adjust to his size. All to which fell on deaf ears.
After all, if you didn’t want this you wouldn’t go and throw yourself all over his brother. Giving the other itoshi a cheeky smile, as you engaged in a small conversation with him before making him sign a shirt that had sae’s name and jersey number.
It all happened in front of rin;
You went up to his brother, sae, with a huge grin on your face, approaching the other itoshi while wearing a tight black dress that hugged every curve in your body. Rin’s eyes went up from you to your body & to the white jersey you were holding, expecting it to be his–only to notice his brother’s name and number on it. He immediately frowned, a confused mixed with an angry look covered rin’s face–which didn’t fit him, your boyfriend always had a boring, plain expression on his face—occasionally giving you small smiles and not-so-noticable pouty faces every time you two were alone.
So, seeing you holding his brother’s jersey as you approached him, turned on something within him. Rin continued watching from a distance, waiting for your next move as you continued speaking to his brother.
Rin watched as you moved closer to sae, your shoulders particularly touching. Sae gave you a confused look before going back to the same dull expression except his green eyes were now studying your face features, green eyes bore into yours as he kept checking you out. Sae looked you up and down, he smirked as he bent down a little, he was now face to face with you.
Rin’s eyes fill up with anger, his eyes twitching as he awaits for yours or his brother’s next move.
Sae suddenly brought out his hand and placed them on your chin–making you look up to him as you two held eye contact, a huge grin covered sae’s face before muttering something that only you two could hear.
Rin couldn’t take it, veins popping up on the side of his head, both of his fists were clenched to his sides as he let out a low scoff. This was unusual for rin. It was usual inside the field–getting angry at his opponents and teammates but for him to get this angry outside the field? He could say it was slightly unusual of him.
After what sae said to you, a noticeable blush spread across your face before you shyly nodded your head & handed sae the jersey you were holding. Sae let out a snicker before signing the jersey and rin could swear this was it for him. Millions of questions ran through your boyfriend’s head; were you secretly a fan of his older brother? Even after rin has told you about his and sae’s rocky relationship?
Sae handed you back the jersey, he gave you a wink before he walked away from you. And you just stood there, dumbfounded.
Shortly after sae left, rin quickly appeared in front of you. He had an unpleasant look on his face, “oh rin!” but rin ignored you, letting out a scoff as he walked past you. You were confused by rin’s cold and obnoxious behavior, you were about to go follow him only for rin to already be out of your sight.
The ride back home was silent, you kept trying to make up small conversations with rin; asking him ‘how did practice go with his older brother’–only for rin to click his tongue, pressing harder on the accelerator for the car to go faster.
And this was how you were brought on to this situation;
Rin dragged you to your shared bedroom, pressing you against the wall as he pressed his lips against yours, pulling you into a sloppy kiss–not giving you time to breath, rin continually kept giving you rough sloppy kisses.
He pushed you down onto the mattress, pushing your head down with his hand while his other hand traveled down to your ass, he grabbed on the plush of your ass before slowly moving them to meet your clothed pussy.
Rin immediately pushed down his fingers on your clit, massaging it from above your panties. You were letting out gasps, trying to look back at rin only for him to push down your head even harder.
You figured that rin’s cold attitude towards you was because he was sexually frustrated or maybe tired from practice and that he needed something to release his stress too, so you didn’t try fighting back or make him stop.
Rin quickly ripped off your panties, his slender fingers running through your wet folds–he pressed his fingers down against your slit before he slowly pushed two long fingers inside you.
Your slick was dripping out onto his fingers, staining the mattress beneath you. Rin immediately pulled out his fingers, not intending to make you cum around his digits.
You let out a whine, trying once again to move your head and look back at rin–only for you to fall right back as a slap landed on your right cheek, making you wince in pain. Rin didn’t waste a single second before landing another harsh slap against your other cheek–tears pricked on the corner of your eyes, your cheeks were flushed as small cries left you.
You were confused by your boyfriend’s rough attitude & movements. Rin was always so soft and gentle with you in bed, taking his sweet time preparing you before making you take his cock–giving you kind, tender kisses the whole time he was inside you. He was never the rough type, so this sudden change was all too disconcerting for you.
Rin’s whole focus was on ruining you, label you you & mark you. So the next time the other itoshi sees you knows who you belong to.
Rin’s cock was painfully hard, he started rubbing & grinding against your sopping cunt–holding the tip and circling it around your clit, he kept pressing his girth against your clit until it became all swollen n’ puffy — “r-rin, wa–!” and you were caught off by a sudden tug on your hair, rin pulled your hair to get your face closer to his, he then placed his hand on your chin and pulled you into another sloppy kiss to shut you up.
His grip on your hair was firm, no sign of him letting go any time soon. He pulled back your hair, moving your face away from his, and for the first time–you managed to take a quick glance at your boyfriend’s face. His eyes darkened, the inconspicuous sparkle in his eyes that he always had every time he was with you or fucking you was no longer there. His eyes grew dim as his lips curved downwards.
His grip on your hair loosened up & you falled straight back to the mattress–this time rin flipped you, and you were now laying on your back as you were now facing him. Rin was gliding his cock down your slit, rubbing it against your hole until half of his tip slipped in. A few mewls left you, tears falling and staining your cheek.
Rin gripped your thighs and pushed them back to the point where they’re almost touching your breasts, a broken whimper escaped you as Rin put almost all of his body weight on you. He quickly shoved his cock fully inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. Rin wrapped his hands around your neck–squeezing until you could barely breathe.
Rin’s hands didn’t budge, squeezing your neck harder until your face turned pale. That’s when his grip slowly loosened up, you were coughing and gasping for air–tears continuously kept falling & staining your cheeks with every blink you made. Despite all this, rin didn’t utter a single word.
Rin was always quiet during sex, even when he’s like this, he was still quiet–the only audible thing were his groans and grunts.
Rin started moving his hips, in a quick, animalistic pace. His hips kept slamming against yours, your velvet walls wrapped around his warm length causing his cock to throb n’ twitch inside you. Rin held your knees, pressing them harder against your chest as he kept ramming into you, his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your walls.
His cock was deep inside you, a guttural sound left rin before he attacked your neck, his tongue dragged down your neck–leaving a trail of his hot salvia along your neck. Rin gave your neck a slight bite before he started to suck on the delicate skin of your neck.
He was moving his hips in a rapid speed, his tip kissing your cervix with every jolt he made. His mouth still connected to your skin, biting and sucking until the spot he was sucking on turned into a dark shade of purple.
Rin kept sucking and kissing on your skin, his dick still stuffed deep into the warmth of your cunt, your whimpers turned muffled, biting on your fingers to stop your moans and whimpers from slipping out. Once rin was finished from bruising you, both your neck and collarbones were completely covered with purple marks that looked painful.
Rin still had your knees pressed against your chest as his creamy tip breaches your soaked walls and brushes against your cervix and the way his weighty balls slap against your puffy clit made your brain go fuzzy, his pace remained rough and fast. You could still feel the pain sting you caused by rin abusing your neck which made you let out choked sobs n’ whines.
Tears started mounting your waterline and lower lashes as rin grabbed your face–pressing both of your cheeks together, his hips still slamming against yours, “s-shit, what should i do with you?” rin mutters that it almost seemed like he was asking himself instead of you. Every time the scene of you and his brothers replays in his head his grip he has on your face stiffens and he would pause for a moment before resuming his actions.
Rin thought of many ways to make his brother stay as far away as he can from you, he doesn’t even want his brother to take a quick glance at you. His eyes went extremely dim, darkening completely. Maybe, maybe he should bless you with a child of his, one that looks exactly like rin. So, the next time his brother sees you two together, you’d have a swollen tummy, one that bears rin childs in. And the next time he sees you two, you’d be three, and you would be holding a kid rin lookalike, imagining his brother's shocked and pissed off expression would satisfy rin.
Rin knows that what he’s thinking is wrong, you two talked about it before. You didn’t want a child now, it’s too early, you said. And Rin himself knows that having a child would have an impact on his football career but does he really care? Seeing the other itoshi’s reaction to you bearing rin’s child would quickly make him forget about all the side effects your pregnancy would have on his and your life.
And rin wasn’t in the right state of mind to be thinking this hard, he was balls deep into your cunt, your gummy walls kept fluttering around his cock getting him closer to his orgasm but the thought of not pulling out, cumming deep inside your womb that he’d be sure you’d end up pregnant kept luring in his mind and he was so close to submitting to it. He could just make it up to you with apologies and kisses. Besides, it’s not like you were fully against the idea of having kids with him so what’s with the problem if he did it now?
Your moans and whimpers snapped him out of his thoughts, looking down on you to find a trail of tears staining your cheeks as you kept mumbling about being close, and so was rin, he was already at his limit and it was obvious by the way his cock kept pulsating and throbbing inside you but he held it in, not wanting to let go and cum inside because he still hasn’t decided on what shall he do with you yet.
“rin,,please..rin ‘m close, don’t think i can–ahh– keep going anymore…” you threw your head back, feeling the growing pit in your stomach grow even more before it snapped–your legs started shaking, your jaw hung ajar as nothing but loud moans left you. Milking rin’s cock completely as you gripped the sheets beneath you. You weren’t given much time to recover from your shocking orgasm before your boyfriend was already back at it again, slamming his hips mercilessly, your body went limp as you tried to stop rin from moving.
“rin e-enough, i can’t handle anymore..r-rinn–!” rin grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper, “nono..rin stop!” As if rin wasn’t present here in the room with you, your words kept falling into deaf ears, his thrusts grew sloppier, he wasn’t giving you any type of attention–his attention grew on your sopping cunt that was pulling him even deeper and kept gripping around his girth. Pulling his whole attention on ruining and staining your pussy, fuck, maybe even mold the shape of your little cunt into the shape of his cock.
His hair covered his eyes, blocking the view in front of him but rin didn’t care as long as he can feel the warmth of your cunt then that’s all he needs to keep going with his obscene acts. You clamped down on him with slippery walls, keeping rin deep in your pussy right where it feels good and he swears he made up his mind right then and there to cum deep in your pussy, after all, you were the one tightening and keeping him stuffed inside your cunt.
Rin held both sides of your waist, his cock shudders and his lips tremble and when he was about to release his seeds inside, you suddenly tugged on his hair and as if you were reading his thoughts you suddenly went; “not inside, p-please” and rin watched as everything he worked hard to do; tame you, bruise you, and work up the courage to baby trap you just all go down a drain. Because he can’t explain the unimaginable guilt he was feeling just from your words alone and the way your small hands managed to tug on his hair to get his attention and the way you looked up at rin with teary pleading eyes, made him break.
Rin slowly pulled out, in time before his release. He wrapped his hands around the base of his cock as he started covering your chubby pussy lips with the fat globes of his cum, getting it everywhere on your pussy. Rin fell on top of you as you whined about the sticky feeling between your legs.
“move rin! i need to talk to you” and rin was surprised that you still had the energy to talk because despite him always having so much energy and stamina as a football player, he couldn’t utter a single word, his body had already given up on him.
Rin moved from on top of you and was now laying down next to you, facing you as a frown and a pout covered your face. And he knew what you were about to ask, ‘what was this all about’ so rin beat you to it. “Can we please talk later? i’m tired” without giving you any time to give him a response rin pulled you closer to him before wrapping a blanket around both of your bodies as rin snuggled into your neck, his fingers tracing the bruises and marks that he left on both your neck and collarbones.
Maybe next time, rin should fuck you from behind, that way you won’t be able to stop him from committing the sinful acts of babytrapping you.
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theorphicangel · 1 month
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Sukuna told you to stop pinching his cheeks.
But you ignored him.
So Sukuna did what all King of Curses would do...
...he killed you.
joking...
in a blink, Sukuna has you pinned beneath him. Two of his arms lock your wrists above your head whilst his remaining arms are secured by your waist.
His grip is light, fingers barely digging into you yet it's enough to keep you from moving and most importantly...from pinching his cheeks.
"will you quit it!" his tone is rough, filled with frustration yet there are obvious gaps which keep it lighthearted to play along with you.
"or what?" you tease, not shying away from looking the king of curses in the eyes.
"I'll get Uraume to cook you next." he warns.
"bluff." you scoff. "plus they like me too much to get rid of me."
"I never bluff and Uraume is under my orders so they will do as I see fit."
"you like me too much."
"you're a pain in my ass."
"just one more," you pleaded attempting to wriggle out of Sukuna's grip yet it was to no avail." just one more pinch and I'll leave you alone forever."
"Now who's bluffing?" his eyes stared into you, a dead set of black pupils.
"please, I'll stay away from you forever" you whine, "so far you won't even see me."
Sukuna scoffs again, gritting his teeth. "even if we were parted by whole universes I think you would find some way to get to me and be a pain, a true nuisance in my life."
you tilt your head in consideration. That's probably the nicest thing he's said all year. "that's pretty romantic don't you think, 'kuna?"
"I do not. It is an inconvenience to me."
"I reckon you'll keep me around just like you do in this universe."
"I wouldn't count on it."
With the subject change, you don't fail to notice Sukuna's loosened grip. With all you can muster you attempt to wriggle against his body but as soon as you move you're pinned down again.
A small grin (most would have missed) appeared at Sukuna's lips whilst witnessing you stuggle.
"please, please, please, please, please-"
"no. Do you not know the definition of no?"
"just once, I swear. You won't see me for the rest of the day."
A deafening silence fills the room and Sukuna's eyes never leaves your own. There's pleading and desperation written in your eyes, so much so it makes him sick.
annoying brat.
"fine. but only once, you hear me?"
his tone is thick with warning and you nod obediently. "loud and clear."
Sukuna removes his restraint on your wrists before allowing you to reach up and cup his cheeks. You coo to yourself as your index finger and thumb pinch the fat of his cheek.
"so cute, 'kuna."
Sukuna growls and you feel his chest vibrate, almost like the purring of a cat. You'd never say it aloud (as you value your life) but you truly like to compare Sukuna to a cat. he loves the affection deep down, that's why he always comes back to you.
"s'enough."
Sukuna swats your hand away but before doing so, your free hand comes up to his other cheek and repeats the action. "one more."
a loud gruff comes from Sukuna in frustration as you pinch his cheeks again, yet it's only for a mere second before your wrists are caught in his large rough hands.
"you said one more, you insolent brat." his dark eyes pierce into you. For a normal person that glare would be enough to stop their heart but you merely glance back with a cheeky smile across your lips.
"You should know by now that I don't stick to my words, 'kuna"
"get out of my sight."
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