#i blacked out something from that summer and then i eventually pieced it together

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 1ST ★ BONDAGE - satoru gojo .ᐟ

[CHAPTER ONE RAPUNZEL] satoru gojo as flynn rider + bondage. once upon a time, a girl trapped in a tower with nothing but her extremely lavish, long hair as company decides…fuck it and sleeps with a handsome stranger to get what she wants ( 9.1K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, rapunzel!au, strangers to lovers, role reversal & switching, orgasm control, sensory deprivation, edging, thigh riding, spit kink, outer-course, begging, handjobs (m!recieving), reader's hair has blonde streaks but colour remains ambigous, rapunzel + fem!reader, flynn rider!satoru gojo.

✧ fairy godmother's note - yippieee!! kickstarting spooky season with this hefty boy. we have our glorious blue eyed king welcoming you all to our fourth annual tteokdoroki kinktober - i hope you all like what's planned this year and enjoy this piece to start with !! kissies hehe <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

“you’re going to take me to see the floating lights. or else.” 

“or else, what, honey?” 

ever since satoru gojo climbed the wooden lattice sewn to your tower by blooming, overgrown weeds and winding vines effectively invading the safest space in the world ( according to mother ), he’s been a pain in your fucking ass. when he’d first arrived, a towering and unfamiliar figure creeping about the main floor — your heart had dropped to the base of your stomach, pulsing rapidly with fear while he scoped the scene. you’d never come across a man before, mother had made sure of that, warning you of their cruelty and ugliness both inside and out. except satoru looked nothing like the descriptions your mother had left you with, you’d say that the man was stunning. not that you had much to compare him to.

his hair was a crisp white, appearing soft to the touch much like the snowfall that came in the winter months (something about playing in it. contrastingly, his eyes were a beautiful shade of baby blue — eerily similar to that of a summer sky free of cloudiness. he was too good looking to be human, for it to be natural, almost as if satoru had strolled straight out of one of the many fairytale books mother purchased for you from the markets. although, over the years you’ve probably read each book cover to cover a million times and not one fictional prince could even match this stranger’s sheer beauty.

though for now, this handsome stranger’s looks would get him nowhere with you. strangers always came with dangers, and since all you’d known throughout your years of living were these four walls, you weren’t going to take any chances with satoru and whatever problems he’d have brought with him.  initially and out of an unfamiliar fear, you’d  taken the nearest weapon to you (a frying pan) and cracked it right over his skull — watching the hunk of a human collapse to his knees and eventually black right out. if mother were around, she would have been proud. you’d tried not to feel any guilt trying to stuff his limp, lengthy limbs in your closet or under your bed because… well, what business does this stranger have with you? what the fuck is a man doing here? how did he get here? why is he here? 

your whole life you’ve been convinced that the outside word was treacherous and that you had to stay inside, where it was safe, because people were horrible and selfish — intent on hunting you down for the powers that lay intertwined in the coils of your hair. those specific streaks that glow a valuable gold between the usual  colour of your locks whenever you sang. mother would style them the way you liked every night — so long as you sung for her. you weren’t about to let mother down, nor risk the little life you built here together.

but, as it turns out, satoru wasn’t looking for the magic sprouting from your crown and entangled in your hair. it almost seemed like he had no idea about them either. rather, the moonlit haired man was looking for a place to lay low and hide after being chased through the forest for his satchel that seemingly carries something valuable. a crown… jewels that have a weight familiar to your head and sparkle like something you’ve seen before in a distant memory. 

“come to think of it, honey, where is my satchel?” cocking his head to the side, sky blue eyes peer up at you with a charm that sends a foreign swarm of butterflies ripping through your stomach.

you frown, accusingly pointing your weapon of choice at gojo’s head and puffing out your chest to appear as intimidating as possible while giving him your name. “i’ve hidden it in a secure location—“ 

“it’s in that pot…isn’t it?” 

as best as he can in the handcuffs he can call locks of your hair, the tower’s newfound infiltrator gestures towards a colourful pot in the corner of tne room. what? all you could think of in the moment is restraining him against the chair and why waste perfectly good rope when you’ve got such length to your own hair? the pot was the closest spot too.you knock him out swiftly after his guess, not giving gojo the satisfaction of finding his precious purse.

now, with the satchel hidden once more, satoru gojo semi-concussed and conscious once again — you realise that for the first time in your life, you have some kind of leverage to bargain with. you need someone to take you to see the floating lights that illuminate the sky on your birthday, every year. satoru needs his… crown? that so obviously doesn’t belong to him. of course, he would have stolen it, mother always said men were no good and always take what isn’t theirs (oh the irony). nonetheless, it  was the perfect match of desires.

this way, you could prove to mother that you weren’t weak like she said you were. that you could cope by yourself and go explore the outside world. it wouldn’t be how it usually is with mother — where you ask for something and instantly get denied because she believes you to be too naive to function in a world outside of her. not this time. this time you have a bargaining chip. a satchel containing a valuable so rare that satoru was willing to risk his life for.

your captive wriggles against the restraints of your hair, woven around the chair like tough knots of a rope to keep him at bay. while the silver haired fox may not have canines like your mother suggested, you have no idea how powerful he could be. contrastingly, gojo finds your hair to be soft against his skin, ticklish along the veins of his arms despite how secure it has him strapped down. he’s forced to listen and to follow your every move across the floor plan, guided by the strength of your hair tugging him about.

“i have a proposition for you. come, look.” drawing back a curtain to reveal a painting from earlier — you recite your plan to your intruder. tomorrow evening, he will take you to see the floating lights … ahem…lanterns that drift across the sky on your birthday every year and then, return you safely to the tower before mother returns. it’s an easy deal.  “i won’t give your satchel back until then,” you stutter out fiercely, adjusting your height and the grip you have on the cool metal frying pan. “you won’t get it back until you’ve taken me to see the lights.” 

“oh whatever, i can just take it back, honey,” satoru goads, cockily ripping his head back in patronising laughter. even though the melodious sound makes irritation bubble hot underneath your skin, you can’t help the way your eyes are immediately drawn to the man’s Adam’s apple as it bobs delectably along with his chuckles. “as soon as i get out of this…hair? hair.” pale blue eyes flicker up to your face when gojo fixes himself in the seat he’s fixed to. they bore deeply into your soul, reading you with as much ease as you have flicking through the same three books that you own. you feel the weight of your hair shift around satoru’s shoulders as he gestures down to it nearly wrapped around his bulging forearms (not that you’d been paying attention). “this is kinda freaky, hon. don’cha think?” a slow sexy smirk tugs at the corners of gojo’s plush, glossy lips, or rather, he smoulders attempting to woo you into giving him what he wants. “you don’t seem like the freaky type, sweetheart.”

once more, a frustrated flame flares up in the middle of your chest — you’d feel offended for sure if you know what gojo meant. “freaky?” 

“as in like… dubious?” he grins in response, running the pink tip of his tongue over his straight, perfectly white teeth. “this is basically bondage, yanno?”

you blink once. confused.

“improper?” 

nothing, not one of these synonyms or explanations from the smiling idiot makes any more sense to you — bringing you to tilt your head to the side, innocently like a puppy that makes satoru laugh once more. this time it actually does something to you. sends weird butterflies fluttering in your tummy.

with a shake of snow white locks and an inhale that sounds amused as it goes, your hostage clicks his tongue — letting those cooling blue eyes slink up and down your virtuous frame . the swell of his lower lip trapped between pretty perfect teeth. “as in sexy, sweet thing.” satoru’s sickly sweet and powdered sugar coo slips through one ear and out of the other like hot, viscous molasses, you immediately shudder — flustered down to the meat on your bones, curling in on yourself as your faux intimidation tactics melt from your body and slip between the floorboards beneath your bare feet. “gosh! you’re so innocent,” his gaze rips away from you, and you fight back an unexpected whimper, missing the intruder’s gaze on you. “guess that’s what being trapped in a place like this does to a darlin’ thing like you. you wouldn’t last a day out there.” 

he’s patronising you. speaking to you as though you’re no more than a child. however, being talked over and down on is all you’ve ever known, especially from your mother… but the way he acts reminds you of all of the advice she’s bestowed upon you over the years. mother tells you all the time, how naive and silly you are. how people will try and take advantage of your looks and your kindness. and so you decide to use your mother’s advice — if all humans, act like dogs, you’ll throw one a bone and wait for them to come back for more. 

steeling yourself, you use a loop of your hair to drag gojo’s chair toward you — positioning him like a puppet beneath your cold, hard stare. he man spreads on the chair as best as he can in his restraints, leaning back while his seat tilts backwards on a forty-five degree angle — drawing your eyes from his face to his thick thighs momentarily. “you are going to take me to see the lights. it’s a promise, not a threat,” you whisper into the air that buzzes with tension between you both, leaning down and pinning gojo in place. you’re so close, so little proximity between your faces, that you can practically feel his warm breath lingering on the damp skin of your lips. “and i promise, i’ll make this worth your while.” 

your voice lowers an octave, smooth and buttery and just right. like a snare for a wild white rabbit or bait on a hook — it peaks satoru’s interest, illicit thoughts and desires flashing behind his pupils like lightbulb ideas. “oh, honey. i can make you see stars alright,” he looks up at you then, with an expression of heat and thirst, dragging you into a pool of shining blue eyes that you barely manage to free yourself from. drowning in his attention once more. you stand over him proudly, between his legs smugly and all he wants to do is wipe the winning smile from your face and show you a real good time. 

if he could, gojo would reach up and grab at your hips possessively, if he could he’d cup your neck and let his fingers toy with your baby hairs to pull you into a sloppy kiss. he can’t help the way white hot desire spreads through his system like throwing gasoline on an open fire and pile of wood. he grins mischievously, and in response, a brand new sensation stirs within your lower tummy — blistering hot as it zips between your chest and your core.

you sense the change in the atmosphere and gojo does too. both of you dying to scratch the itch on the part of your brain that is the control centre for lust. but you remind yourself what this is truly about, tell yourself not to get lost in the haze of it all, and will yourself to throw a loop of your hair over daring blue eyes like a blindfold — acting fast to secure a seat in an unsuspecting satoru gojo’s vacant lap.

he grunts in surprise, flinches when he realises one out of five of his senses are down. “what the fuck—?” gojo spits, cocky smirk melting away. 

“shhh,” you taunt the man under your breath, leaning forward so that your voice coasts over the shell of his ear like a summery breeze. it invokes a sense of pride within your chest when your hostage tilts his head to follow your voice — his own breathing erratic and increasingly shallow with how he begins to struggle against your restraint on him. “you won’t get a chance to make me see those lights. not if i get you to see them first.” 

in truth, you've got nothing planned. you’ve never been in the same room as a man, let alone pleasure them the way that you’ve read in books you’d borrowed from your mother. 

the reality of the scene before you is daunting, giving up part of your virtue just to prove a point and get to see the floating lights like you’ve always wanted…but at the same time — it’s your one chance at freedom that’s at stake here. “you don’t sound so sure about that, sweetheart,” satoru taunts you with the peaks in his voice coltishly high. he continues to wrestle against the restraints of your hair — he’s strong and with a little more force he could escape but it’s like he senses your hesitancy. 

like he knows for certain you won’t make good on your promise. just like mother. 

that much is evident in the way his smooth, glossy lips tick upwards into an arrogant smirk. 

your determination to prove him wrong grows more and more by the second, so before you succumb to your nerves again, you let your free hand claw with way over gojo’s right shoulder — steadying him, forcing him to sit still as you make a comfortable seat out of his widespread lap. he tenses at first, unable to see you move, but his grin remains, you have no idea if it’s because he’s proud of you or doubting you — but the expression only serves to piss you off even more.

“what’s next, sweetheart?” 

a strangled growl is your only reply, the most menacing sound you can muster as you lift head upwards and his pool of loose silver-moon locks fall out of place. with a shuddering breath and a hold of gojo’s restraints, you press your lips to his in a shaky kiss — still unsure of where your lips go and what to do with your teeth and how to move your tongue. the captive beneath you knows it and takes advantage of your weakness, nipping at the swell of your lower lip gently — hardly enough to draw blood. satoru is testing you, telling you to be brave and take from him. prove to him that you’re willing to do whatever you want for him to make your silly childhood dream come true.

he allows you to fight back, despite this being your idea, lets you forcefully grab his angular jaw and capture him in a proper spit-swapping kiss. if he really wanted to, he’d find a way to escape from the tight bounds of your lengthy hair. but he doesn’t. gojo lets you swallow him down; push your tongue exploratively into his mouth and lap at his foreign flavour. he wants your tongue to take dominance from his, pink appendages sloppily rolling over one another, slipping and sliding as you take and take from satoru.

the kiss, already uncoordinated from your lack of experience, becomes hurried and hungry and wet the more you steal from satoru. you take and take and take until his glass his half full and his brain slowly becomes devoid of all logical thought. he comes the prey to your predatory mouth, missing the way your hand frees his pale cheek and fingers fluidly traverse down his broad shoulders, over his marble sculpted body to find purchase in the belt loops of his bothersome pants. now curious, you feel your way down the front of the fabric and grin into the hot and heavy kiss when satoru’s lets out a breathy, staggered moan into your open mouth. 

his swelling erection twitches in response to your inquisitive hand, slender hips involuntarily jumping upwards.

“fuuuck,” satoru chuckles airily, words featherlight as they breeze along your lips. his head keens upwards too, chasing the weight of your hot sticky tongue in his mouth — desperate to be closer, craving the feeling of your nose knocking against his and your breath on his cheek from just how pressed up against each other you are. “fuck baby that’s it. kiss me more, touch me harder…” he’s addicted before he even knows what you have to offer, what he’s getting himself into. if you could see his eyes from under his binding, you’d bare witness to pleading blue pools swirling with a painful desire as he twitches beneath you, wriggling his wrists to get free. “c’mon, touch me.” he adds between sloppy pecks.

backing your face out of satoru’s reach, you break the drooly lip lock — letting your lungs fill with oxygen it had once missed, while your heaving chest syncs up with the intruder you have strapped  to a chair. you pull away, connected to the man by not just your hair, but a string of saliva glazed across your lips — cautiously, your tongue dart out to break the the between your eager mouths, two sets of uneven panting filling the quiet air. 

the two of you remain unmoving and unwilling to back down while you catch your breath; but your hand remains in the centre of gojo’s lap — rocking it back and forth, back and forth over his growing bulge. you stare at him, observing the reactions that he tries so hard to control. little twitches to his pink swollen lips and the flare of his nostrils whenever your palm makes contact with a sensitive spot. all this waiting is agony, the white haired captive might die if he doesn’t get more from you soon. 

satoru whines impatiently as a result, knowing full well what you want and you won’t ask him again — not when you’re tauntingly squeezing his cock for a second, third, fourth, fifth time. he doesn’t fucking know — overwhelmed by waves of lust-infested blood rushes to its blistering hot tip. “fuck! okay, okay fine. i’ll take you! just—“ the chair rattles from the force of gojo’s struggle against your restraints, which hardly covers the low moan that escapes from between his plush glossy lips while his length pulses against the inside of his pants. “just fuck me. touch me. anything.”

something about his tone being all desperate and high activates a part of you that you never even knew existed. a part of you that knows what to do next… even if you haven’t acted it out, you’ve enough books to remember what the erotic ones say.

only then, after he pleads, do you use your shaky hands to tug down the garment — pulling them towards his knees as best as you can against your hair until the button pops free. the zipper follows easily and the waistband falls away from starlight skin and slender hips. everything gets hotter; any fresh air between your bodies becoming tinged with the need for sex as the scorching ghost of your fingertips leaves burn marks against satoru’s pelvis, and sends heatwaves of ardour from the base of his spine to the top of his skull.

satoru’s squirming pauses while he waits with uneven breathing for your next move — tongue pressing up against the barricade of his white teeth to prevent himself from taunting you further or perhaps to stop himself from belting out another pathetic set of whimpers. he wishes he could see you, those sweet innocent eyes looking down at him as you peel back the last layer of fabric stopping you from accessing his painfully hard erection. his underwear. 

when you gasp in shock, pride weaves itself between the bones that protect his heart and lungs like an uninvited weed, he knows that he’s decent. longer than he is thick, bright red at his mushroomed tip and leaky from just how turned on he is. there’s a trail of silver moon hair that leads you down a path from his belly button to the thickest part of his dick too. but oh, how satoru gojo wishes he could see.. the way you lick your lips as drool drowns your tongue, mouth watering at the sight of his length slapping against his clothed stomach while he manspreads for you. the way your pupils dilate, the colour in your eyes swallowed by a dark veil of carnality. 

this is a hunger you’ve never experienced before, a type of starvation that makes your hand lurch forward before your brain can control it, gripping satoru at the base of his milky, slender shaft. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a cock; let alone held one between your tiny fingers — it’s much warmer than you anticipated, tacky to the touch from dribbles of precum running down from his untouched tip, but you like it. the weight, the wet sound it makes when you slightly flick your wrist around satoru. not to mention the stuttered groan he lets out, his head falling against the support of the chair and yanking slightly on the blindfold made of hair that covers his eyes.

if you weren’t sitting in his lap, you’d want him in your drooling mouth. you’d sink down to your knees like the girls in your naughty books and take him down your virgin throat, just so you could look up at satoru and watch the sweat bead down his jawline and run a track over his bobbing adam’s apple. but you’re not and you’ve got a point to prove, so you loop your hair around your other wrist to tighten his restraints and extend a thumb upward from his base to his seedy tip, jamming the pad of it through the slit where he pre forms in thick, creamy pearls. as white as those that come from an oyster.

“that’s it gorgeous, just like that…” satoru leers up at you huskily, voice tinged with neediness that he fails to mask. he seems to like the way you touch him and you’re sure to use a delicate hand when you smooth the supple pad of your thumb over the pad of his sensitive tip, rubbing his opaque precum into it sweetly. “touch me s’more? you can do it… i know you’re shy, can hear your breathing ‘n how heavy it is. shit, you’re new at this.” saliva slows down satoru’s salacious words as he rambles to you with swollen lips and rosy cheeks, angling his head in whatever direction your breath seems to be coming from. 

he’s in tatters, destroyed by a few simple touches with his hard on smearing white across the front of his clothes. you roll your palm over his mushroomed cockhead next to test the waters and take pleasure in admiring the way he trembles, grasping at the arms of the chair you have him strapped to in order to ground himself. it’s torture for satoru to be this patient, killing him slowly from the inside out like a virus spreading across his brain and other vital organs — but it doesn’t mean you’re in any better state. practically dripping in his lap with your panties dampening more and more every time satoru so much as whimpers. past the point of being turned on by the sight of a strong, powerful man weak and blindfolded underneath you.

satoru bucks upward at your command, sucking in a breath as his sensitive, seedy slit bumps your palm once more. “s-shit… please.”

the improper ness of the entire situation sends a zap of electricity to your swelling clit. you’ve only ever imagined being with someone like this as you have seeing the floating lights — touching yourself beneath your skirts and under your painted ceilings whenever you were brave enough. now you’re here, spread over the thick thighs of a possible thief who begs you to jerk him off. “s-shut up,” you hiss as embarrassment and  inexperience begins to shine through the deal you’ve struck with gojo, the fact that he can tell as much and still wants this has you soaked all the way through and aching for friction as well. 

you’ve never been in possession of so much power in your life. mother never let you have it. but right now, you can taste it sparking between you and gojo, smell it in the air teeming mixed with a cocktail of your arousals. in the moment you realise that the silver haired man would cling onto every one of your sugar-coated words (no matter how nervous) if it meant he got the fuck he wanted in the end. and you would get to see your lights too.

“just… tell me what to do,” you say without realising how husky your own voice has gotten. “i promised you your crown, to make you feel good if you took me to see the lights. and i never go back on a promise. s-so tell me.” talking yourself into it and building up some more confidence, you circle over satoru’s bulbous cockhead again — gaze laser focused on the burning bright red colour as it oozes. you know that he likes it and it makes his head spin so much that he starts to fight against the restraint of your hair again. “i won’t let you go, not until this is over. so tell me what i can do to make you cum.” 

despite not being able to see his entire face, gojo’s smug smile says it all — his perfect teeth cheerily on display, contrasting with the flustered pink tint to his cheeks. “cup it, make a fist around my cock so you can jerk me off’a little bit,” a haughty moan scratches at the walls of your captive’s throat when you follow his guidance and finally grip him fully, soft and supple hands easily dwarfed by the size of him. satoru’s shaft may be a little thinner, but he’s thick enough to fill your own throat and cause a stretch to your quivering hole with his balls being round, plump and full of white hot seed saved up just for you. “christ, squeeze my base a lil’ before you get movin’,” at first contact, satoru’s thighs tremble deliciously against your mound, blood rushing to your clit and through the forked veins that spiral down his length. 

your senses are overwhelmed, he smells so good — of peppermint and a musky twang of sex act like dangerous smelling salts or fumes. you could get addicted if you weren’t careful. you’re super aware of each ridge and firm vein that decorates him and as you start to palm satoru steadily, you notice just how sticky your hand is — movements guided by the wet cream of his cock. slipping and sliding as your closed fist moves up and down, up and down, occasionally squeezing the base of him just like he asked. your knuckles brushing the soft bush of pubic hair at his pelvis. you can only imagine how everything feels for him, not being able to see at all.

the thought just barely crosses your mind — too focused on speeding up your soiled hand around gojo just to hear more of his angelic gripes and groans that rise and fall from his heaving chest. how good all of this must feel for the man without being able to see. every touch must make him tick and drip and throb achingly. he must feel weak too, completely vulnerable to anything you might do to him while blindfolded and unable to touch you because of bonds formed by your hair. 

once you set a steady rhythm to your closed fist to jerk him off with, gojo takes a breather to announce his next command — head shaking side to side with moonlight locks sticking to his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the inferno of desire spreading through of his limbs. “now spit on it,” he states bluntly, an obvious dip to the octave in his voice. you can’t possibly imagine why he’d need spit; your hand is already glossed with a shiny layer of precum, tainting your knuckles from the viscosity. 

you swallow thickly, but don’t dare stop pleasuring your captive stranger. “w-what?” 

“are you kidding me just—“ leaning forward as best as he can while held back by the strong locks of your hair, like rope around his wrists. dopamine crackles over your brain like fireworks in an enclosed space at the scene that unfolds next, satoru pursing his lips to spit onto his own milky dick — letting the frothy mix from mouth join the mess that lubes the both of you up where connected. “just spit on it, honey. thought you wanted me to feel it.”  

licking your lips, you rub down satoru’s girth far enough to drag the glob of spit down to his tender weighty balls, that pulse at your gentle touch. the feeling makes satoru’s entire body jolt like an electric shock — a gargled groan clambering out from the depths of his panting chest as his jaw goes slack and mouth falls open. “please. please spit on it, honey. god please.. need you to wet my cock. i need it so bad, promise i’ll be fucking good.” blind but with his remaining senses in tact, gojo remains largely vulnerable to your touch, his entire world tilting on one axis when you grip his dick a little harder at his request. causing a ring of white to gather where the circle of your wrist envelopes him.

at his begging. which you swear makes you gush like a small, erotic stream — your juices sloshing about in the gusset of your panties while your sex goes unattended.

so you nod obediently, tilting your head forward and parting your swollen lips to let a thick, syrupy string of your own spit ooze onto his plump and sore balls, stroking him rapidly to spread it over his creamy tip as well. your spit is contrastingly cool in comparison to the natural lubricant smeared all over your captive’s palpitating dick — causing it to grow impossibly harder. it slickens up your hand, evidence of the silver haired man’s arousal seeping through the fabric of his crumpled shirt and coils of your restrictive hair. neither of you can bring yourselves to care in the moment — all you can think to do is relish in gojo’s size.

he’s so big, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered how satoru fit entirely inside your tight hole, stretching you out in the new future — earning yourself a fresh wave of liquid lava hot essence to your ruined panties. you dare to dream onwards, picturing the azure eyed stranger fucking you against the walls of the tower in every way the man knew possible… you have no idea what he’s capable of when untied. but the sight of him lazily thrusting into your filthied fist like it’s instinct, following it like a moth to a candle flame, is enough dream fuel to last you a lifetime. even after the deal is complete and the lights are just a distant memory. 

eventually, you decide to pull off of satoru to give your wrist a break — walking your fingers up the broad expanse of his built chest to tweak his nipples between your tingling bodies. his entire frame is wracked with a case of shivers, mouth parting in a high-pitched, whiny whimper with strings of saliva connecting its roof to his tongue. you’re so pathetically turned on, drool pooling on your tongue like a hot flash flood. 

it’s why you tighten your grip on your hair and thus his restraints, resulting in satoru staggering forward. closer, panting like a damn dog in rut. drawing your free hand up towards your lips and away from his pecs, the proximity between you becomes so little that satoru can practically smell the musky evidence of sex that you lick from your hand. “oh… you taste so good,” you lament in a dulcet tone, failing to miss the way gojo’s dangerous azure eyes dart about beneath his makeshift blindfold, probably dying to see you get a taste of him.

“d-don’t say that, you’ll make me fuckin’ cum, honey.” he gulps, involuntarily pumping his hips into the air, chasing your hand which he needs so desperately to feel good. “please don’t stop.” while begging you — satoru is the perfect picture of a ruined man, though you’re sure he would say the same about you if you hadn’t strapped your hair over his line of vision. his milky skin glistens as though it’s the very source of light for the silvery moon — illuminated by droplets of sweat from the exertion off fucking your fist like a squelching, welcoming pussy. his cheeks glow warmly with a dusty shade of pink and there’s a red ring forming around his lips from where he’s bitten them to control his wails of ecstasy.

succumbing to the obscenity of it all,  you reach forward and lick a stripe into his hellfire hot mouth. effectively sharing the saltine flavour of gojo’s own precum with him while he languidly sucks all the tang from your pink appendage. his angel white lashes flutter shut at the heaviness of your tongue against his own. the kiss is messy and mismatched, saliva seeps from the corners of your mouth and drags a sticky train down your chin. parting briefly, you spit it into the middle of your palm — happily taking satoru’s cock back into your talented hold and providing a solace to soothe its passionate ache. 

“ngh… i can feel you. f-fuck. feel you tryin’ not to grind against me, sweetheart.” somehow, gojo finds pockets of air to taunt you in — his voice an arousing mix of a raspy whine and cocky tone. “so wet, i can smell you too. so sweet. dripping all over your panties while you jerk me off. do you need that needy pussy taken care of?”

everything he’s said is true, while the man with the sweaty silver locks fought to escape the prison of your hair — desperate to see how you pleased him, you fought the growing pit in your stomach. the urge to use satoru for release. you’d never hit your peak with another person before, only your smaller-than-his fingers whenever mother left for more than a day or two. 

you admit to nothing, continuing to stroke satoru to his own high — his panted moans accompanied by the sound of skin slapping skin from your hand fisting him to the high heavens.  “please baby, i wanna help get you off. feel that wet little cunt. let me go, i’ll be so good to you if you let me touch your sweet c—“ 

“n-no! we had a deal. my rules.” you stutter, denying yourself. denying him.

“c’mon sweetheart,” a strained and petulant whine echoes throughout the tower — satoru thrusting shallowly through your closed hand in order to match his rhythm to the flick of your wrist. “please, god, baby. if you won’t let me touch you, or at least see you, then can you put that pretty pussy on my thigh? ride it real good? wanna know how you sound when you’re being pleasured…when you give into it all. please honey, give me somethin’ to work with. anythin’…”

gojo presses, like a disciple begging their god for mercy. begging you for mercy. there’s never been this much power in your reach, the ability to control a man who could easily over power you with your sex makes your mind feel egotistically weighty. your resolve crumbles just a tad, satoru’s neediness  chipping away at its foundation until your hips instinctively position themselves perfectly over the swell of his right thigh. how bad could it be? giving him an inch when you’ve taken a mile from him. mother says you’ve never been good at lying and right now, you can no longer pretend like your hips aren’t dying to slide back and forth over your capture like a desperate whore. 

like you don’t want to use him for more than just the floating lights, but to soothe the fire lit in your lower stomach — trailblazing down to your throbbing clit.

something clicks in your mind, all of your inhibitions are dashed from the tower as you briefly release satoru’s pathetically wet cock and restraints to pull up the skirts of your silk purple dress, exposing a slither of supple fat at your thighs. hurried movements deliver the same treatment to satoru’s pants. “this… this doesn’t change anything. doesn’t mean i’m letting you go just yet. it won’t affect our deal.” you warn the intruder but all sense of venom and authority is lost, evaporating into the temperate air and ending up as a piteous, meek mewl when your exposed mound makes first contact with man’s naked thigh.

if the sound of ruffling fabric hadn’t caught your hostage’s attention; the heat of your sopping sex against his moonlit skin definitely did. “fuck…that’s it. there we go, honey. put it on me,” a tinge of amusement lays evident in his gravelly voice, sets of slender digits peeking out of their hairy restraints to map out your doughy thighs and crawl their way up to the source of your essence. “i just knew you were wet for me, can feel how turned on you are.” as best as he can, gojo shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit — cooing in satisfaction when you ooze against him in response. you almost despise the way he laughs up at you condescendingly, as if he’s the one in control irregardless or the fact that you’re on top. 

maybe it’s the dopamine rush that makes your dynamic unclear — neither of you wanting to give up or take the lead. the lust fizzing in the cracks and crevices of your brain make you cute and pliant for gojo but hair woven over his body keeps him subdued and thirsty for you. 

like a gravitational pull, you buck downwards on the silver haired stranger’s toned thigh and smear the beginnings of your arousal all over him. you’ve barely been touched, oozing in viscous waves as you lose control over your body, rutting harder and faster. “watch your mouth.” you cry out, volume barely above a whisper, bottom lip trembling because it feels so good to use someone this way. 

resuming your hold on his dripping cock again as you rock your hips — you rearrange the loop of hair keeping gojo in place, covering his eyes just as your hair begins  to glow gold in time with your symphony of moans. “right, right, sorry. this doesn’t change things,” he flexes his thigh underneath your syrupy sex, strawberry tongue slipping out to wet his lips while your words fade away into a pretty little sigh. “but you wanna smack that messy clit all over my thigh, don’cha wanna make it creamy… even messier?” satoru all but jeers, the wisps of a smirk rising on the horizon of his lips now that your hips have formed their own rhythm over his leg.

they speed up their passionate dance on him, beads of glistening essence pearling between your two fat pussy lips. the slick smack of your naked cunt against his muscular thigh caused his dick to twitch in your hand — gojo thrusting up when you thrust down. he tilts his head down, catching a whiff of your heavenly scent in the air between you both. you hate that he’s right just as much as he hates not being able to see you and touch you properly — only catching glimpses of the golden light sparkling within your hair like a halo from underneath his makeshift blindfold.

you feel like you might be going insane, trapped underneath a non existent touch. like being pulled under waves of euphoria with aching lungs that don’t get enough air. near angelic screams of delight rip through the base of your throat contrast with the way you sinfully hump satoru and jerk him off to the point of his dick forming a creaminess in your hand. he bounces his thigh faster the higher you moan, rewarding you for all the hard work you put in to make this deal worth it.

“you’re no better… you’re filthy,” 

“that’s right honey, so dirty. all cause of you. messy with you, why won’t you let me see?”  the captive rambles, torn between fighting to break out of the bondage and listening to the lewd sticky noises your mound makes when gliding smoothly over his paled skin. satoru growls at how roughly your body moves above his own, face contorting lecherously, cheeks red and lips puffy — a mess from how long he’s been holding out for you. he’s a mess. it’s true. he won’t even deny it. “now fuckin’ stroke it baby, stroke me to the rhythm of your pussy bouncing up and down for me…please…” 

simpering slightly, gojo’s fingers twitch against the arm of the chair — itching to grab at your ass and slam you down against his shaky thigh. if you palm him more, grip him tighter… he can better imagine the warmth of your cunt if he got the chance to slip inside. for now, you oblige his request, pulling tighter on the bindings of your hair while you them use as leverage — throwing yourself down on satoru as the lewd pap of your drooling pussy fills the musky tower air. “that’s it honey, up ‘n down. uppp ‘n  down. keep goin’ just like that.” 

you don’t have the energy to chide him, jostling about in satoru’s lap with wet whimpers bubbling up on the seams of your lips. pleasure begins to twist nice and tightly in your tummy, scalding you from the inside out and burning any logical thought from your brain. head beginning to roll to the side, you think about fully submitting to your capture. letting go entirely — you’d be satisfied. you’d get to cum. your deal might fall through but at least you’d get to see a different kind of light. 

easily, you could just give up. it wouldn’t be hard to, not  when gojo firmly plants his feet into the tiled floor and the power from his hips has hip rutting upwards to chase your fleshlight-like fist. a beefy cry battles its way out of his broad chest, vibrating through you as his quivering thigh juts your pretty, syrupy cunt every time you lift off of him. 

it’s the perfect cycle; the ideal push and pull. you squeal in ecstasy, the hood of your clit dragged back so that your sensitive bundle of nerves is exposed to the blistering heat of satoru’s cool toned skin — taking you closer and closer to your high. streaks of your hair glow brighter than before, more intensely the louder you moan and just like they would if you were singing to help mother or while she brushed your hair. despite the strength in the light of your hair, everything else about you weakens, your grip on your hair, the pace of your hand as you palm satoru to the high heavens. you can’t think to care about any of it when you’re this close. 

if mother could see you now, you don’t think you’d mind if she was disappointed in you. 

but then you’re ripped away from the edge of cloud nine. satoru stops just short of the dam threatening to break. his thigh completely still with your juices splattering against him once your own hips come to a hault. a petulant howl echoes through the flower, frustrated tears stinging in your waterline as you feel your orgasm slip away from you cruelly. “what the fuck satoru?” 

“sorry honey….” he laughs heartily, a slight rasp coating each syllable from each word that leaves his mouth. “don’t think i like this deal very much. just ‘cause you feel good doesn’t mean you can forget about me,” gesturing to the way you gush on and stain his thigh, the captive with the silver moon hair shrugs. “you don’t get to cum or see the lights unless i get to see you.”

gojo’s been good so far, hardly challenging you this whole time and instead, goading you into a world of pleasure you would have never experienced under mother’s watchful eye. instead, he was content to have his cock touched and his name wailed a hundred different ways — he’d shown no indication of breaking your deal aside from this. so in turn, you halfheartedly let go of the loop of hair that kept his sapphire stained eyes away from the world and held his wrists down to the arms of his chair.  the restraints loosen just enough to please him and do what he needs to do. not enough to give him complete freedom. 

“fuck the deal.” you cast it all to the side, relentlessly resuming grinding all over gojo — pushing your hips back as far as his knee to smother your swollen pleasure against it.

this time, satoru is able witness the way your bambi doe eyes roll back into your emptying skull. 

with newfound motivation, the intruder begins quickly blinking away any darkness that caused a fuzz at the edge of his vision, gojo’s gaze immediately trickles down to your clenching hole, a treasure kept safe between your nectar glossed thighs; watching you ride him. “god, if i had my hands on you i’d rub that clit until you were squirting… i bet you’d like that, if i ruined that pussy. made her mine — you'd like that.” gojo’s stare returns to your eyes, flashing you his pearly whites through a condescending smile. his rushed and rambled teasing words make your creamy cunt wetter; body betraying you to violently shake above him. 

though you find strength to keep up your end of the bargain. you’d sworn to make satoru see stars, encapsulating his rigid, sloppy dick between your nimble fingers once more. you even spit on it, earning a haughty bleat from between the man’s pretty (yet chatty) mouth. his sturdy body seizes underneath your touch as you take a firmer grip on him, palming him faster and faster — seedy, hot precum webbing over your knuckles once more. that’s when you finally get to see it. how murky and dark your captive’s vibrant eyes grow, like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

the rapture that had once melted away from you like butter in a pan begins to blossom within you once again — willing you to beg for a chance at a real orgasm. “yes satoru! oh, yes please!” you squeak, short of breath and not entirely sure or what you’re even begging for. the golden light emitting from strands of your hair flare up again and your pussy throbs with an aching need to hit release. “please…”

a self congratulatory thread of cobalt lust weaves its way between the darkening midnight flecks in this eyes. “now look who’s begging,” clicking his tongue, gojo cocks his head to the side, relishing in his ability to finally look at you. drink in the way your chest bounces beneath the bodice of your lace orchid gown. it’s completely fucked, darkened by a crude mix of your arousals but it’s the most beautiful thing satoru has ever seen — only serving to rial him up even more… his own orgasm coming up over the hill. it burns at his internal organs, the lining of his stomach and the only way to alleviate this almost painful yet delectable twinge to his system is through you. “bet you’re only being nice ‘cause you’re close. well guess what? me too, be a good girl, honey, and cum for me.” he says, voice rising in both pitch and breathiness through his gritted teeth. 

he’s going to cum. 

and you’re too far gone to form a response with words just yet. you stop your own ministrations, payback for edging you earlier. his own cock dribbles pitifully as you rip his high away from him like pulling a rug from beneath his feet. gojo thrashes in his hair in response, azure eyes wild and almost wet with a sheen of tears — just as desperate to cum ad you are. “wh-what the fuck was that for?” he winges as though he’s a child on punishment, slender hips rising up to chase your soiled hand and perfect grip — shaft standing needily at attention. “honey…”

“you don’t get to cum until i get to cum. so either you work with me, satoru, or we’ll go all day.” you snap, slowly working your drenched cunt over the meat of his thigh once again, your puffy folds spread either side of it — squelching with the way you salaciously wind your hips all over him. 

satoru basks in the sight, tongue poking out tauntingly between his teeth as he decides to test the waters. “fine, but at least let me help,” he suggests, watching eagerly as you throw your head back in the purest form of pleasure and grind on him harder. it’s clear as day that you need just as much of a push to cum as he does and he plans on giving it to you in just one condition. “untie me.”

“deal.” chewing on your lower lip, you let more of your hair unwind your glowing hair from all points that keep gojo strapped to the chair. enough for more of his hands to escape. then, he’s on you within a flash, hot tongue swirling its way over your clothed bosom and biting at your peaked nipples while his hands shoot to the globes of your ass so that he can drag you in harsh circles across his lap. he’s ravenous, out of control, as if he’s been waiting for this moment the entire time. 

somewhere along the way, in one final burst of passion, your mouths find each other again — swapping streams of saliva as you lose yourselves to sex crazed minds teaming with lust hormones. with your lips smacking and bodies moving against each other in a delicious bump and grind — satoru forces a large hand between you both, fumbling against your cotton panties. the sound he lets out when he finally, finally gets his hands on your puffy clit is glutoral and animalistic, the simple touch sending a shock wave of electricity across every one of your synapses. dazing you for good. 

you bear witness to the silver haired stranger losing his mind, falling from grace like an angel with blackened wings. and for you, he does the same, commiting the sight of your glowing halo-like strands of hair to memory — the coils that shine brighter the more you sing and sin for him.

he can’t stop gabbling, gargling on the spit you pour into one another — followed by howls and screams of pleasure. “oh you like that, hm? i bet that feels so good… so sweet ‘n wet under my touch.” hot fingers belonging to satoru pick up the pace between your sticky folds, flicking your clit feverishly and writing his claim against your cunt at the same time that you jam a thumb into the tricking slit of his dirty red cockhead. the pair of you jolt in one another’s arms, taking one too many steps towards the edge of cloud nine before you’re even ready for you.  

“oh sweetheart, listen to you, sound so good. wish i could have you on my fat cock instead of my thigh. next time yeah? you’re gonna cum like this, aren’t you? gonna get my thigh nice and wet?” gojo growls, voice hoarse and layering perfectly over your whistle tone whines. his digits slow and start their greedy assault on your sex, edging you further and further as you wriggle and writhe at his words. 

the world escapes you, the knot of lust that had been warping within you finally coming undone. “gods… s-satoru! please!” you shriek as though your voice is a  gust of stormy wind — reverberating off of painted cobblestone walls. your free hand (no longer trapped by loops of your own hair) darts out to grab the intruder’s wrist, thighs locking around the hand that works you through an earth shattering high. the dam finally bursts, forcing open floodgates as your pussy releases streams of clear arousal in small spurts that soaks his entire lap and clothes.

gojo has no idea where to look, the smallest glimpse of your orgasm sending him hurtling over the edge as well — he doesn’t relent, viciously circling your precious pleasure mug and drawing out your release to match his own. his thick length spasms in your tiny hand, plump balls no longer able to contain the viscous, hot seed he has saved up all for you. just for you. he cums with a shout, abdomen contracting under your never-ending supple touch, ropes of white hot endlessly shoot from his overstimulated tip almost as though he’s a faucet that’s never been turned off.

he swears he almost blacks out, a white and sweaty mop of hair collapsing onto your shoulder as you slump in gojo’s lap — exhausted. as the air in the room cools, your hair no longer glowing and your chests syncing up to heave in an even rise and fall — you bring a lazy hand to the back of satoru’s head, toying with coils of his baby hair to help you both calm down.

a moment of quiet passes before you find the energy to whisper. “will you take me to see those floating lights now?” 

your innocent question causes satoru to snort sleepily, pressing a wet chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek as the sound breaks free from his cherry-bitten lips. “a deal’s a deal, honey. as soon as you untie me… we’ll hit the road.” 

neither of you move a muscle, however, still recovering from the sinful act you had just shared. 

you use the time to reflect, a sense of excitement dawning on you. you were going to leave the tower. you were going to see the floating lights on your birthday. and most importantly, you were directly disobeying your mother to prove your capableness. and all you had to do to get your fairytale happy ending was give a handjob to a very handsome, very willing stranger. 

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[minswriting]

18+ nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader

warnings: p in v, loss of virginity, fingering (f), etc.

imagine losing your virginity with early season spencer. the both of you have never really slept with anyone before and after a private conversation after a case, the two of you had decided to lose it together. just friends helping friends right? that was until spencer had arrived to your place with a bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly at your door, dressed in a fresh sweater vent, cardigan, and pair of slacks. and you? you were dressed in a simple summer dress.

you had prepared a meal, nothing too fancy. just a chicken and pasta dish that you thought would be good to have before anything and a glass of wine, to ease any tension. the two of you had a great time, just chatting, laughing with one another. the nerves you had felt previously had gone away as spencer told you random facts about random topics. it made you realize that your choice to lose your virginity with him was a good one.

“are-are you sure you still want to do this?” spencer asked after the two of you had made it to the bedroom, both of you sitting on your bed next to one another. “we don’t have to do it yet if we aren’t ready,” he added.

you looked at the brown haired boy, giving him a small smile. “i still want to,” you replied softly. “do you?”

spencer nodded his head, reflecting your smile on his face. “yes, i do,” he said. he brought a hand up to your check, moving a piece of hair that had fallen into your face and tucking it behind your ear. “can i uh- can i kiss you?” he asked.

“please,” you said.

spencer licked his lips before leaning in, hesitantly kissing your lips. the kiss was soft and tentative, something you hadn’t really felt before. you’ve had your first kiss of course but it never felt as…tender as this kiss. you kissed spencer back, putting a hand on the back of his head.

eventually it led to the two of you pawing at each other, the kiss getting hungrier and deeper. you both had taken your clothes off for the most part, except for your underwear. spencer wore a pair of plaid boxers while you wore a black bra and panties set.

spencer would lay you down gently, going on top of you shakily as he kisses your lips. his movements are tentative, shaky, a bit unsure. but you’re both more than eager. his hands roam your body while your arms are wrapped around his neck. his right hand gently grazes your bra, hesitating to massage the flesh underneath. so he pulls away from the kiss. “can i touch you?” he asked softly.

“yes,” you replied in the same tone.

spencer licked his lips, as he brought his hand underneath your bra, massaging the skin gently. you let out a soft moan as his fingers brushed against your nipple. he moved his hand to your back, shakily unclasping your bra and pulling it off of you. he threw the material to the other side of the room, taking in your breasts. “you-you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking at your tits and then at your face.

you gave him a smile. “thank you,” you said softly, allowing your hands to roam his torso.

spencer licked his lips. “you know, when your nipples are stimulated, they send sparks in the genital sensory cortex which is the same part of the brain as vaginal or clitoral stimulation,” he exclaimed, pressing kisses down your neck and onto your chest. he kissed your right boob before taking your nipple and putting it into his mouth. he sucked and licked on the nub.

you let out a soft moan, “oh,” you said, feeling your arousal pooling in your panties.

spencer used his other hand to trail down your body, his fingers making their way to the waistline of your panties. you let out a shaky breath, spreading your legs for your coworker. he slipped his fingers underneath the waistline, bringing them to your slit. he moved his middle finger down and up your cunt, spreading around the wetness before finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it.

you moaned again, this time your eyes fluttering shut as your pussy was finally being touched. with how knowledgeable spencer was, it wasn’t too surprising that he knew exactly what would pleasure you.

spencer continued to rub your clit in circles while sucking on your tits, making you feel as though your body was on fire. you could feel his bulge pressing into your thigh, signaling just how much this was turning him on. after a few minutes, spencer stopped rubbing your clit, his middle finger dipping down to your hole. you let out a shaky moan as he inserted his finger. “you’re so wet,” spencer murmured, looking at you as he thrusted his finger inside of you slowly.

you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut. the feeling was foreign but not bad. you’ve touched yourself a few times before but it had been different. your fingers were different from spencer’s. and his felt so good. “wet for you,” you whispered, licking your lips.

“yeah you are,” spencer smiled, adding another finger and curling it, hitting your g-spot.

you let out a louder moan, arching your back as he thrusted his fingers faster inside of you. “oh fuck!” you said. “f-for someone who’s never done this before, you-“ you moaned mid-sentence. “you know quite a bit.”

spencer let out a breathless chuckle, continuing his pace with his fingers. “i’ve studied a lot,” he replied, watching you.

you felt a heat building in your abdomen, signaling the beginnings of your release. you let out a whine of pleasure, your walls tightening around spencer’s fingers. “so close,” you said, bringing a hand to spencer’s shoulder to hold onto.

“yeah?” spencer said. “go ahead, cum for me, baby,” he replied as he worked his digits inside of you.

and so you came, thighs shaking, back arching, moaning. “spencer,” you moaned as you came. spencer fingered you through your orgasm and when you finished, you relaxed, breathing heavily. spencer removed his fingers from your cunt, looking at you with flushed cheeks. “you’re so beautiful,” he said, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he licked the digits, tasting your juices on his tongue. you watched him as he began to suck on his fingers. you bit your lip, watching him. even though you had just came, you felt yourself getting aroused again. “and you taste delightful,” spencer said as he stopped sucking on his fingers. he looked at you, licking his lips. “are you- are you sure you want to continue? i mean- you did just finish. i don’t want it to be too much for you,” he asked with consideration towards you.

“please,” you responded. “i want you, spence.”

and that was all spencer needed to smile and get up. “i- uh i came prepared of course,” he exclaimed, looking around the room for his pants. the bulge in his boxers was very prominent as you looked at him. you pulled your panties off, throwing them to the side as you waited for spencer. he grabbed his pants, pulling out a condom from the back pocket. he walked back over to the mattress, holding the packet in his hand. he swallowed thickly before slowly pulling down his boxers, revealing his hard length. he let out a hiss as the cool air hit his cock.

spencer’s cock was big to say the least. it was red and angry, begging to be touched. “you’re so big,” you whispered, almost amazed at the length. it wasn’t too girthy but it was perfect.

“you think so?” he asked a bit shyly.

you nodded your head, looking up at spencer with a smile. you looked back at his cock, licking your lips. spencer cleared his throat, ripping the condom package open and tossing the foil to the side. he began putting the latex on his cock, pulling it onto his length and ensuring it was on properly.

“are you ready?” he asked, looking down at you.

“yes,” you said clearly, looking up at spencer.

and then he was back on top of you. you spread your legs for him as he brought his cock to your pussy, teasing you by rubbing his tip against your clit, causing the both of you to let out small moans. “it’s going to hurt at first,” he murmured a bit shakily as he held himself up by one hand, his other guiding his cock.

“i’m a big girl, i can take it,” you replied softly, bringing a hand to spencer’s hair and moving a strand out of his face before resting it on his shoulder.

spencer leaned down to kiss you softly, slowly moving his lips against yours. he guided his cock to your hole, slowly and carefully easing himself inside. you inhaled sharply, feeling the stretch of having a cock inserted inside of you for the first time. “are you okay?” he whispered against your lips as he stopped for a moment.

you nodded your head, eyes closed in slight pain. “just keep going,” you whispered back, holding onto spencer.

and so he did. and when he finally bottomed out, he stayed still, allowing you time to adjust. he had read in several books that women tend to feel quite a bit of pain during their first time. so he wanted to ensure that you felt good before he began moving.

after a few minutes, the stinging began to ease up. and you could feel yourself relaxing. you swallowed, opening your eyes to see spencer’s beautiful brown orbs already looking down at you. “i think- i think you can move now,” you whispered to him.

“are you sure?” he asked, looking unsure.

“i’m sure.”

spencer nodded his head, leaning down once more to capture your lips with his as he moved his hips out and then back in very slowly. the both of you moaned. he began to get into a rhythm of moving slowly, relishing in the feeling of your tight and wet cunt around him.

“god, you feel so good around me,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

you let out a shaky moan as the pain turned into pleasure quite quickly. he was filling you up so deeply, something you had never felt before. and god did it feel good. “is so deep,” you said, gently clawing at his back. “you-you can move faster.”

spencer swallowed before moving his hips faster inside of you, causing you both to whine. it felt so good. you finally understood what everyone had been talking about. sex truly was pleasurable. and sex with spencer just certainly felt…perfect. it didn’t matter what else was going on in the world because you had him. and this experience is so much more than just sex with a coworker.

“fuck,” spencer moaned, grinding his cock inside of you. “i don’t think i can last,” he said, embarrassed.

you moaned, nodding your head. “that’s okay,” you replied, kissing spencer’s lips. “just as long as it feels good, that’s all that matters,” you reassured.

spencer let out a whimper, burying his face in your neck as he thrusted his hips. he moaned into your skin, moving his hips more frantically. you felt your own orgasm approaching as his cock kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly. and with a loud whine, spencer was cumming, moaning your name as he came. it didn’t take long at all for you to follow, arching your back as you moaned spencer’s name at him.

and when you both finished, spencer pulled out, moving to lay right next to you. the both of you were breathing heavily, taking a moment to process exactly what had just happened. after a few minutes, you looked over at spencer, who turned his head to look at you, and the both of you smiled and laughed. “i can’t believe that just happened,” you said, laughing.

“ahh me neither,” spencer replied, moving so that he could put his arm underneath your head. “i’m glad it did though.”

you smiled. “me too,” you replied. “we’re definitely going to do that again,” you said.

“oh most definitely,” he said as he brought his fingers to your chin, lifting it to meet your lips with his.

after that, sex with your coworker became a normal thing. and it was safe to say that feelings eventually became involved.

[nneiljostenn]

i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.

disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!

let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.

the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.

in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).

same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.

a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.

where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.

Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.

Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.

a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.

and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.

on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!

and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.

daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY

no i actually have a point about this.

the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.

the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.

and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.

i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.

and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.

no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.

but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.

and welcome back to his triumph.

the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.

now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.

this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!

in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out

[macfrog]

brother | joel & tommy

massive thank-you to @elliespuns who was kind enough to send me so many gorgeous photos of joel and tommy to choose from for this piece. i really, really appreciate it, lovely 🤍 forever indebted to and forever obsessed with you!

pairing: joel miller & tommy miller summary: tommy visits his brother's grave. warnings: lots of grief, brotherly love (but sad), spoilers for tlou2 word count: 900 words

masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍 | posted first on ao3!

We brought you home in a mottled sheet.

Pathetic, right? I know it, brother. I’m sorry for it. Shit, I’m sorry for all of it.

It’s the best we could find – the best they could find. The kids, I mean. I couldn’t’ve found my own two feet when they eventually managed to wake me. The room swelled into focus and everything was doubled, everything swaying side to side, all violent like.

I could hardly string a sentence together. My head felt heavy with blood, hearing still shot to hell. The first thing I did was look for you.

And oh, Jesus, Joel, did I see you.

I spat the words out in a sob. Be careful with him, I said. I couldn’t get to my feet quick enough; couldn’t reach you with my shaking hands. That’s my goddamn brother, you hear?

He’s my brother.

They found an old pallet and made a sled out of it. We tied it to Old Beardy’s breastplate and let him lead you home. Figured the old timer’s used to the weight of you by now, right?

He kept shaking his head the whole way, kept huffing these deep, achy breaths. I’d never heard him do that before – none of us had. Like he was in pain, almost. I don’t know if horses know grief like we do, Joel, but it sure seemed like he knew. He just…knew.

The gray lump of you jolted and jerked behind him. The more I looked, the more I felt like throwing up, and still – I couldn’t look away from you.

The shape of your head – this crimson bloom where your skull had been broken. Square shoulders, sturdy chest. Long legs and boots still laced – the way you once taught me. Make bunny ears, twist ‘em around each other. Yeah, just like that. Now, pull.

Tall frame, protective frame. Used to plant yourself between me and anything you thought might hurt me. Used to wrestle with me in the backyard, stomach my damn windmill punches like they were nothing.

Man, I don’t know how you ever taught me to throw a half-decent one, but you did. Mom would call us inside and you’d pat my back and say good job, little brother.

Good job. What kinda fucking job did I do this time, huh? When it mattered? Where was I, when my brother needed me most?

On my goddamn ass, that’s where. Blacked out. I couldn’t get to you, no matter how hard I tried.

I tried, Joel. I swear to you, I tried.

It was all of it, all at once. The blizzard, the woman, the room – Christ, that room. So much blood I felt it lining the inside of my lungs. So much that I can still smell it, taste it, like it’s become me. Like everything I look at is tinged red; the color of rust, the color of rage.

The room, where I became just the one. Lost something in my sleep. Hit the ground with a heavy thud, swam back to the surface to find I was short. Something taken. Something stolen.

And I’ve been without you before, Joel, but at least I always got to give you a piece of my mind on the way out.

You remember summer camp, that year I was real homesick? I don’t know what it was. Maybe just knowing you were all those miles away. You remember I wrote you about a hundred times? Jesus. I know you’re laughing, too.

I spent that whole summer with a smile pinned to my face. Counting down the days. I’d turn over in my sleeping bag, pick at the skin on my thumbs and wonder what you were up to. Wonder if you were missing me as much. Wonder if you’d thought about me at all that day.

Well, here I am. Wondering much the same.

I miss you, Joel. I don’t know what to do with that. There ain’t no bus home at the end of this; no big brother and his dirt bike waiting for me in Austin. It’s only been a week, I know that – but my ears won’t stop ringing, and I haven’t stopped looking for you.

It wakes me at night. This pain in my chest, like I’m swimming for that surface over and over, and all I ever do is drown. I wake saying your name. The doctors say it’s just bad dreams, just part of the process, but I know what it really is. I’m calling on you, and you never come.

It’s about damn time I realized you ain’t never gonna come. You’re never coming back. Not to me, not to this place. You’re on a path I can’t follow, brother. We’re on our own from here on out.

Goddamn it, Joel. Why the hell’d it have to be you?

Maybe if we’d gone a different route that day. Maybe if we’d spent a little longer in the stables. We were tryna outrun the weather, sure, but we could’ve spared a few minutes. Shit, I would’ve spared anything, if it meant I’d still have my brother.

Sun’s coming up over the mountains. I better get going. Got a mighty long journey ahead of me. I’ll make things right, Joel, I swear.

Go on, now. I’ll bet your Sarah’s waiting.

See you round, brother.

[cosmicpearlz]

close enough to feel you

summary: you feel yourself slipping away into feelings that can’t be expressed. pulling yourself away from jude but he manages to bring you back to him.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: this is based on the song close enough to feel you by luke hemmings! i also wrote this to deal with the shitty feelings i’m dealing with lol. enjoy my loves <3

now i'm falling apart again

now i'm falling apart again

i just wanna be close enough to feel you

but the pain is so familiar

lately, you began to notice the negative thoughts that ran through your head. a million thoughts a day that wouldn't rest. mentally tired and physically done, there was nothing you could do. so you slowly pulled away. pulling away from your friends, family, and even your boyfriend. it wasn't on purpose, but how do you explain to your loved ones that you were tired? that everything became too much at once.

jude noticed this immediately. how could he not? he watched as your smile and your light slowly dimmed into something he wasn't used to seeing. you wouldn't open up, further denying that something was wrong every time he asked. he was determined to make sure your light came back.

"hey baby, how was work?" jude asked, as he walked through your shared home, coming from training. you sat on the couch, meeting his eyes with the best smile you could muster up. it didn't reach your eyes though and of course, your boyfriend noticed that too.

"it was okay babe. how was training?" you whispered back softly.

"eh, i'm a little sore but nothing too bad. i was thinking that we could go out today. we haven't been on a date in a while."

"oh jude, i don't know. maybe another time?" jude walks to the couch, plopping himself next to you. bringing up a hand to rest on your cheek. you leaned into his palm the second it comes in contact with your skin. not realizing just how much you craved his touch. it grounded you.

"you said that the last time sweetheart."

"i know, i'm sorry," you looked down to your lap, unable to face his big brown eyes.

"i need you to trust me on this, okay? i have everything planned." jude glides his thumb across your cheek and gently picking your head up to meet his eyes, "let me do this for you," he whispers as if you were glass and could break at any moment.

there was a slight pause in the room. the silence taking over before you eventually nodded against his hand, still taking it's place on your cheek.

"okay." jude smiles and brings your face closer to kiss your head. the soft kiss makes you close your eyes in content. relishing in the fact that your boyfriend never fails to send butterflies to your stomach. even after dating for almost two years.

-

you and jude silently get ready for the date. quiet footsteps pitter pattering around the house. it nearly kills jude. he was so used to you talking loudly while you guys got ready together. something in him dies a little, feeling awful that he let it get this bad. he wanted you to have your space but it was too much to bare now. you weren't yourself and tonight he was going to fix that.

"you look beautiful m'love." jude walks up to you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. meeting your eyes through the mirror. "absolutely stunning," dipping his head down to place a light kiss to your neck. you wore a loose pink summer dress that stopped just at your knees, with black sandals that had a flower sitting above your toes. jude wore a knitted brown two piece short set, the shirt being shortsleeved with a small pocket that sat on the right side of his chest. finishing the look, he paired it was his white air forces.

"thank you baby. you're so sweet. you look handsome as always."

"you make me sweet," jude replies, earning a small giggle from you. he considers that a win.

"that makes no sense."

"of course it does! but don't worry about it, we got to go," he places another kiss upon your skin and tugs your arm to get moving.

how easily it was for your boyfriend to make you forget about your worries. not a thought in sight with him. you found yourself becoming excited with every step you took.

the drive wasn't long. you guys ended up at the beach where he asked you to be his girlfriend officially. the butterflies were back, rumbling in your stomach once again. when you parked the car, jude was quick to place a blindfold over your eyes.

"is the blindfold necessary?"

"don't question me women. let me work."

"yes sir," you laughed to yourself, sporting a smile. jude smiles himself, even though you currently couldn't see it.

jude took the lead, guiding you through the path. the boy became nervous. what if you didn't like it? tons of insecurities hit him with every step you guys took.

"okay, here we are. i really hope you like this," you felt his hands untie the blindfold. you opened your eyes to find a picnic blanket with a basket and two pillows. around the blanket was your favorite flowers, some whole flowers and some just the petals. your eyes watered at the sight. your sweet boy did this just for you.

"oh jude, this is so beautiful."

"come sit," jude smiles, as he interlocks your hands together and moves towards the blanket. you both take a seat, shyly smiling at each other as if it was the first time all over again.

"what made you do this babe?"

"baby, i noticed you weren't being yourself lately. it killed me to see how you pulled away from reality. from me. how your smile and your light dimmed. i want you to know that you can always talk to me. I'm your boyfriend, not a stranger."

"I didn't want to put a burden on you," you felt your throat close up from the emotions that threaten to come out. finally, you were seen.

"it wouldn't be a burden. never ever would i see you as a burden. I'm in love with you. you are my person and a piece of you lies within me always. promise to talk to me when you feel like this again?" you nodded against his hand that laid on your cheek.

"i promise," you quietly whispered, as your tears made its way down your cheek. jude catches them with his thumb, bringing your face towards his and leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"i love you so much jude. thank you for this. you don't understand how much this means to me," you pecked his lips and then moving to his cheek, leaving a kiss there as well.

"anything for you angel," he pulls you into a tight embrace. the two of you holding each other, while the sun began to slowly set. it was perfect. the action didn't completely drop the negative feelings but it definitely helped to heal them.

to be loved is to be seen and oh man were you seen in this moment.

[capricornlevi]

noise complaints -- choso x reader

college au!choso x reader, RA!choso, secret relationship. wc 2.5k

MDNI, 18+ only. reader has a vagina but no gendered pronouns.

"he's at the door again!"

you hear utahime's shout from the bedroom next to yours but you don't answer, hoping she'll get the message from your pointed silence.

she doesn't.

"come on!" she protests through the paper-thin walls. "please! you're the only one he likes, we never get written up when you answer."

"turning the music down could help!" you shout back, but without much malice. it's 8pm on a friday, hardly unsociable hours, and the speaker isn't nearly as loud as some of the other dorms on your floor. it's not exam season; there's no reason why you need to be singled out for punishment.

plus, the only reason you're not in there with her -- drunkenly singing along to some autogenerated playlist that has 27 likes, sipping 'sangria' that's more like boxed red wine and soda -- is because she's on a date, one she's been looking forward to for some time now, one you helped her get ready for as she rambled anxiously about her plans for the evening.

you don't have it in you to begrudge her.

"fine," you sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand.

two voices cheer victoriously from next door.

"we love you!"

you chuckle to yourself before it gets cut off by a yawn.

tossing your phone onto the bedside table, you stand up, rolling out a knot in your shoulder that you know will only get worse as the evening progresses.

time to go see the RA.

the shy, reserved, yet surprisingly strict RA. the one who has a particular hatred for noise complaints.

he's still knocking at your door; like utahime, he clearly doesn't take silence for an answer. you speed up to answer it before your roommate feels to need to intervene herself.

as you make your way down the hall, you wonder absent-mindedly if you should've changed into something more ... formal. your vest is nearly see-through, the fabric light and flimsy, but you rationalise it away.

it's summer. it's insufferably hot in the dorms, too uncomfortable to wear anything other than the bare minimum.

you're sure he won't mind. he's probably hot as well.

not dwelling on those thoughts any further, you open the door to find what you expected to see -- choso standing there, holding the tablet that the RAs are issued with to log complaints on their floor, chipped black nail polish clearly visible as he tucks the device against his chest.

he's wearing all black - as per usual - but he's swapped his typical hoodie and jeans for a t-shirt and light sweats, looking a little self-conscious as your eyes flicker up and down while taking in the change in outfit.

you grin. it's really endearing.

"hi, choso."

"hi," he replies, a blush staining his cheekbones already. his dark hair is swept back in its usual hairstyle, a few soft strands falling into his eyes before he brushes them out of the way. he gives you a look you're all too familiar with, peering up at you through frustratingly perfect eyelashes, dark brown eyes meeting yours with a forced confidence "you ... you probably know why i'm knocking."

"i can guess," you answer plainly, still smiling at him as he puts in significant effort in keeping his eyes fixed on your face.

he bites his lip, a silver ring catching the light as it shifts. "okay. the same as before, then."

"so you're here about the noise?" you offer innocently, gesturing down to utahime's room.

he looks confused for a moment, thin brows furrowing as he tries to piece together your reasoning.

eventually, he seems to understand what you're getting at. he raises his voice just loud enough that utahime can hear from down the hall.

"yeah, the noise. got a report in a few minutes ago, so --"

"of course," you reply diligently. "i understand."

"uh ... good. so we're clear, then."

he trails off a little awkwardly, and if it weren't for the darkening of his pupils you'd think he was actually discouraged by your responses. you wonder if you've put on too good of a show.

not willing to let that happen, your grin deepens as you lift your hand, take him by the collar and drag him in for a messy kiss, barely letting the door close behind him as you pull him inside.

the awkward, shy version of choso nearly disappears the moment his lips meet yours again; he's voracious, hungry, the cool metal of his piercing hitting off your teeth as he deepens the kiss within moments of touching you.

you're still just as surprised by this side of him, this layer you didn't know he had, the same as you were the first time this happened. you relish every time you get to see it.

from what he's alluded to before, nobody else has the privilege.

"w-wait," you whisper against his lips, kiss-slick and already swollen, "you have to be quiet. she ... it's too early for her to find out."

instead of answering, he fixes his lips to your pulse point, suckling at your neck as he backs you against the wall, your shoulderblades hitting against the cold plaster and raising your skin to goosebumps.

"choso -- choso, i'm not kidding," you protest half-heartedly, the whisper already torn and desperate. "we need to -- we need to get to my room, ok? then we can do whatever --"

before you've even finished the sentence he pulls back, face now fully flushed but not from embarrassment, not from self-consciousness.

"or i can eat you out right here?" he offers quietly, one hand on your waist as the other drifts lower, trailing up your thigh and along the hemline of your skirt. against your better judgment, your hips start to shift, chasing his touch, the sensation you know only his fingers can bring.

just then, the music coming from utahime's room pauses, plunging the apartment into a sudden silence.

choso's hand stills on your thigh; you barely breathe as you listen intently, waiting for utahime to burst through the door and discover you here in the most compromising of positions.

thankfully, it's just her switching the song. seconds later the music starts to play again and you hear her date's voice sing along, blissfully unaware of what's happening just feet away from them both.

taking that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom, you take choso's hand and guide him down the hall, single-minded in your goal.

he lets you, knowing that it will pay off.

once you're safely hidden away in your room, you move in tandem as he backs you up towards your twin bed, his lips only leaving your jawline when he needs to catch his breath.

this is going to be really fun.

before you can even repeat your warning to stay quiet, you're lying flat on your back on the mattress, your already-short skirt hiking up your thighs as you settle against the sheets.

choso grins when he sees your nipples pebble against the thin fabric of your vest. his hands trail up your body, thumbs tracing lazy circles as you wriggle to try and shimmy out of your clothes.

he doesn't rush you, though. from the look on his face, you'd guess he could just play with your tits all evening and be more than satisfied.

but you're not of the same opinion. you need his touch somewhere else, need it to the point of aching, and you tell him as much.

he's not the type to tease with words. he's quiet, deliberate, even right now -- but he doesn't need to say what he wants to do out loud. you know with just a look, the way his tongue plays with his lip piercing, the imprint of his cock through his sweats.

even though you've been in this exact situation before, you can't tear your eyes away from the sight of choso getting on his knees before you, tugging your underwear down your legs and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive inner thighs.

you almost cry out before remembering to cut yourself off. hastily covering for yourself, you start to warn him;

"we need to stay --"

"yeah, quiet. i know," he whispers with a smile, not willing to protest too much given the situation he's in now, the one he's pictured every time he's touched himself this past week, since he met you in the abandoned study closet on the third floor on saturday.

since he fucked you against the wall till tears streamed down your cheeks, until your thighs shook around his trim waist, limbs turned to jelly as he wrung orgasm after orgasm from you.

"promise?" you whisper with a little smile, knowing it won't affect your own answer.

your underwear now tossed to the side, he takes his thumb and index finger and spreads you open, the cool air over your exposed flesh making you gasp, reverent in how he looks at you.

"i'll try," comes his hushed answer, before he dips his head in to taste.

the first slide of his tongue has your breath catching in your throat, spine already arching off the bed as he moves slowly, methodically, savouring your taste before circling back on your clit, dragging the tip of his tongue over the hood.

his grip on your thighs is strong but it needs to be in order for you to stay any bit still; you squirm against him, his nails leaving crescent indentations in your skin as he keeps you steady.

at the first broken cry of his name, he stops immediately.

you let out a groan of protest, lifting your head from the pillow to further voice your grievances, only to be met with a petulant-sounding;

"you said to be quiet."

frustrated at your own words being used against you, you let your head fall back, mulling over how to reply.

utahime's music is still playing. they mightn't hear you, you're not being that loud --

but choso still hasn't picked up where he left off.

you know what he's capable of doing with that tongue, those fingers, so you throw in the towel fairly quickly.

"fine."

"use the back of your hand if you need to," he whispers before pausing, leaning over to pick up something, "or use this."

he tosses your own underwear towards you.

you grab it and throw it aside, rolling your eyes playfully.

"it hasn't come to that yet."

"still," he retorts, lowering himself down again, "it could come in handy."

"we'll - we'll see," you choke out, feeling his tongue part you again, wondering if you will actually end up need ingthat makeshift gag,

he licks and suckles, providing just the right amount of pressure as you start to grind against the wet heat of his mouth.

he knows what you need from him.

"one or two?"

you don't need to ask him to clarify. "two."

"already?"

your hand flies up to cover your mouth, pleasured mewls dying in your throat.

once it passes, you let your hands drop back to your side.

well, you could ...

you could just ...

so you do; you fist your hands in his hair, soft and silky under your touch, and answer.

"already."

you feel one of his hands release from your thighs as he starts to stroke himself, low reverberations of his groans enhancing the sensation of his tongue against you.

then the other hand drifts down your waist, hips, until two fingers prod at your entrance, your wetness coating his fingertips before he can even get inside you.

his hand moves slowly while his mouth nips and suckles, your legs spreading even further to allow him room. 

inch by inch he slips inside, meeting no resistance since you're ore than wet enough for two -- maybe even three --

he curls his fingers and you cry out his name.

he doesn't stop this time, though, too enraptured by the sight of his fingers disappearing through your swollen folds to deny himself anything.

the music next door is drowning out any sound you're making, you know it is. you don't want to stop for a moment.

you can't stop.

he pumps his fingers in and out as your hips roll against him, chasing the friction that you need as much as air right now.

you really think you might die without out.

you feel yourself pulse around him; he feels it as well, the way you contract when he hits that spot against your walls, and suctions his lips around your clit in the way he knows will have you coming for him more than once.

with his lips angled like this, you can feel the piercing as it shifts against you; the cold metal should probably feel jarring but it only adds to the sensitivity, a unique sensation that you now can only associate with him.

it's funny -- you haven't been seeing each other for long, only hooking up when you have the chance to go undetected -- but he already knows your tells, the signs that you're close, so close --

you barely hear it, the sound muffled and quiet by intention, but the feeling of him groaning your name as he licks into you is too much, too much, too intense a feeling for you to bear ....

your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave, washing over every nerve in your body as you spasm around his fingers, your limbs turning to jelly as you lose your grip on his hair, hands fumbling with the bedsheets to try to establish yourself.

it is neverending, an all-consuming sensation that lasts until he pulls his fingers out unceremoniously, aftershocks clenching around nothing.

your teary eyes open as you see what prompted his sudden movement

choso's brows are pinched together desperately, almost panicked, as he fists his cock, hips rocking rhythmically.

"you're gonna make me come ... fuck, fuck --"

with a cut-off moan he grips the base of his cock, coming over your stomach, coming ropes that reach your breasts, his head thrown back as his jaw clenches shut.

the sight is enough to prolong your own orgasm, faint ripples running through you even as choso's pleasure starts to ebb away.

"oh fuck," he groans once his cock stills, his chest rising and falling, his sweat-slick skin glistening as he collects himself. "fuck ... I'm sorry."

"don't be sorry," you grin up at him, having come to a sudden realisation. "from the sound of it ... utahime and her date just closed to front door, so ... looks like we have the place to ourselves."

"we do?" he half-pants, half-laughs. "how ... how long has it been since --"

"too long," you cut him off. "so we need to make up for lost time."

it's his turn to grin again, eyes scanning the mess he's made of your chest with a sense of pride.

"happily."

[libraryofloveletters]

Can’t Get Away From You

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: a mini fight, some shouting, one mention of throwing something at someone, your boyfriend is attached to your hip and follows you like a puppy, power outages, jumpscares, some swearing, stuck in the middle of no where. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: okay I lied, I know I said no fics but this was in my drafts and I had the urge to finish it :) also this was a random idea that @themandaloriansdiaries​ and I came up with on ft many many nights ago

-- 

"Why do you always do this?” You shouted at the man across the room from you. 

Your boyfriend stares at you like you had gone insane and sometimes he thought you were, but tonight’s shouting was justified.

The two of you were supposed to go to your sister’s surprise birthday party but big shocker, Erling chose to stay back and kick a ball around for another 2 hours. Their training session was already done, he had no reason to stay back and yet he did. You were waiting for him so you could go together opposed to taking two cars because he kept telling you 10 more minutes and he’d be home, but you ended up being two hours late to your own sister’s party.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He looks at you and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Yes, because that makes up for the fact that I was late to my sister’s party. You’d never do that to your sister, would you? And you know I would never do that to her either. I actually care to show up when I say I will.” 

“Y/n, you're overreacting. She didn’t even care that you were late.” He huffed, sitting on the couch. 

You cannot believe him; he was late, had the audacity to tell you she didn’t even care and now he can't even stand up so you can shout at him? You were sick of his shit, you needed to leave before you threw something at his head. 

The man watches as you grab your purse and phone, storming out of the front door and letting it slam shut behind you. He gets up, following you out the door.  

“Where are you going?” He shouts from the porch, you don’t answer but instead get into your car and back out of the driveway. 

You had no idea where you were going but you needed to be anywhere but there. 

You drove for what felt like hours before you finally stopped in some random parking lot off the side of the road; you had driven out of the city and into the countryside. Hunger was kicking in and you tumbled through your purse for a mint, a piece of gum or literally anything edible. Eventually giving up on the tumbling, you dumped the contents of your purse into the passenger seat and switched on the light. 

There’s a set of keys staring at you, a bright blue man city key chain hung on the bunch; the keys to the cabin. 

Shortly after you and Erling began dating, the two of you decided you needed a place to go when you wanted to be away from the city. That’s how you ended up with a cabin 3 hours outside of Manchester. 

The sky was varying shades of the black and the once viable moon was now blocked by clouds. You figured since you were closer to the cabin then you were home, you might as well spend the night there. 

Another hour and you pulled into the muddy driveway, it seemed to have rained at some point during the day. You silently thank your boyfriend in your head for putting in sensor lights, otherwise you might have just slept in the car. The yard was pitch black and the Remingtons, the couple who owned the house across from your place, were away for the summer which meant you were all alone in the middle of nowhere. 

The thought freaked you out, but not enough to make you turn back and go home. 

You shoved everything back into your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you avoided the puddles of mud on your way to the front door. The look clicked as you turned the key and you sprinted into the cabin, shutting the door behind you. 

A hand dragged across the wall, feeling for the light switch and you pressed it, lighting up the place. You also turned on the light in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom because you were alone.. not because you were scared or anything like that. 

The cupboards were pretty empty, anything of substance was eaten the last time you two were there because you didn’t want it to go bad. The only things were a few boxes of mashed potatoes, a can of corn and one can of sliced pineapple. 

You couldn't be bothered to cook so you pulled the pineapple can out and was about to crack it open when there was a knock on the front door. 

It was safe to say your blood ran cold. 

The Remingtons were gone, you were certain of that because they told you to check on the house when you come down if you did, which meant they weren’t there. 

No one else lived around here, and you can’t just say no one is home because you switched on every light possible. 

Setting the can down, you slowly made your way to the door. You waited to hear if there’s another knock, you peeked out the front window in hopes of catching a glimpse of whatever was outside. 

“Babe!” The voice called, startling you. “Open up!” 

You groaned, the voice belonging to none other than your boyfriend. You opened the door, unfortunately, and found your giant of a boyfriend standing there with a bag in hand.

“Are you gonna make me stand in the rain?” He asks, the hood over his head blocking the water from his face. “I figured you didn’t eat dinner, so I brought you something to eat.” He stepped into the house; he was so big, you couldn’t really stop him if you wanted too.

“When the rain stops, I want you out.” You turn to him and he smiles, nodding. 

He handed the bag over to you, the smell of Chinese food filling your surroundings. You refused to cave, holding your ground and staying mad at him. He shut the door behind him, turning the locks. 

“What the fuck man? How’d you know I was here?” You handed the bag over to him, acting like you didn’t want it. Erling shrugged, taking the bag back and going to the kitchen. 

He unpacked the boxes, setting them on the counter. “You left your location on.” 

You groaned quietly, cursing yourself for leaving it on. Erling ignores your theatrics and puts some food on a plate for you, bringing it over to you and setting it on your lap. He knew you well enough to know if he offered the plate to you, you’d refuse and you needed to eat; part of why you were so snappy with him was because you were hungry. 

He can’t help but notice how you un-tense now that he’s around; it brought a smile to his face but he didn’t dare say anything. 

Erling sat beside you, eating quietly.

“Can we play a board game?” He asked, setting the plate on the coffee table. 

“No.” 

Erling hummed, going to dig the monopoly box out from the tv stand drawer. He set up the board, all the little pieces, the cards and the dice and began playing by himself. 

You ignored the man, trying not to laugh as he screwed him over on one of the places he wanted. He rolled the dice, counting out the places he needed to move when the lights shut off. 

The sound of thunder startled out, causing you to jump slightly. 

“Babe, you okay?” He called, getting up. “Ow fuc-” he groans, probably stepping on one of the little pieces. 

“I’m fine,” you get up, walking to the kitchen to get your phone off the table. It wasn’t pitch black, you can still make your way around the house so you searched through the kitchen cupboards for some candles, anything that can give you light for the time being. 

Erling had gone quiet, you were about to turn around to see where he was but a hand on your shoulder caused you to drop your phone and let out a scream. 

“It’s just me,” he laughed and you smacked his arm. 

“What the fuck man! God, you are so- ugh.” 

You sit at the table, phone back in hand as you called the power company. They finally get to your call after an hour on hold and let you know that the power won’t be turning back on until tomorrow morning. 

The phone dropped on the table, your head tipped back as you groaned. 

Erling reaches for the candles on the top shelf and lights them, setting them on the table. He sits across from you quietly, the two of you listening to the rain until the sound stops, the last flash of lighting strikes and it goes quiet. 

He looks out the window and back at you, the soft orange glow of the candle light reflecting off of your skin. “I should head out,” he says, pulling your focus to him. 

“What?” 

“The rain.. it stopped. You said leave when it’s done raining.” He reminds you, standing up. 

“Oh.. right, yeah. Okay, go ahead.” 

Erling kisses your head when he walks past you, telling you to call him if you needed anything but you ignored him, still holding out on being upset even though you weren’t anymore. 

The door shuts, you move from your spot at the dining room table to the couch but before you could sit down, the doorbell rings again. “What?” You shouted, walking over to see what he wanted. 

He smiles at you when you open the door, pointing to the tree that’s fallen and blocked the driveway. “I’m stuck.” 

“Use that viking strength of yours and push it away.” You shut the door again and went back to the couch. 

You felt a bit bad, the guilt of him sitting out in the rain sunk in, even more so seeing that you had nothing to distract you. You pulled yourself off the couch and opened the door again, assuming you’d see his car on and him in it but it was off, the driveway was dark and the tree was still there. 

“Erling?!” You shouted in the emptiness, “where are you?!”

There’s no answer but what are you supposed to do? Stand out in the rain or maybe go looking for him in the dark? 

You shut the door, turning back around to see him sitting at the kitchen table.

“WHAT THE FUCK ERLING?!” You screamed, your heart jumping out of your body momentarily. You let out a breath, hand pressed to your chest. “How the hell did you get in here?” 

“The back door was open.” 

“Why are you lurking at the back- wait, it was unlocked?” Your brows furrowed, looking towards the back door. 

Erling nodded, “yeah, I wasn’t lurking though. I went to check if the generator would turn on.” 

“And it did?” You wrapped the blanket from the couch around yourself. 

Erling looked up at the light that’s yet to turn on. “I mean, obviously not.” 

It was freezing in the cabin, considering that the power had shut off and it was raining, it only made it colder. 

“C’mere,” Erling calls for you, his arms opened as he waits for you to come cuddle up next to him. You shook your head, waddling your way to the bedroom. Your boyfriend follows you, watching as you dropped on the bed and pulled the comforter up on top of you. 

You can feel the cold running up your spine, the cold air creeping along your skin despite the two blankets and the giant man in the room lifting the blanket wasn’t helping. 

“What are you doing?” You grumbled, not turning around. 

Erling slipped into bed next to you, pulling you flat against his chest. His body was like a heater, the man wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder before fixing the blanket. 

You tried to wiggle away but he held you firmly in place. “You can stay mad but I'm not letting you freeze.” 

You let your boyfriend hold you, simply because it's cold and not because you were mad at yourself for being mad at him for no reason. At some point, the two of you must've dozed off.

-- 

The lights were what woke you up; bright white lights shining down on you from the ceiling and the fact that the curtains were still open didn't help your eyes that were now adjusting to being open again. 

There’s some heavy on you, you can’t even pull yourself up and you’re almost certain you know what it is. You look down to find your giant of a boyfriend on top of you. His arm tossed over your hip, face smooshed against your stomach as he snored quietly. 

You smiled, forgetting all about last night as you pulled the hair tie from his hair. He stirred, settling moments later when you passed your hand through his hair. Your fingers rubbed along his scalp, massaging his head. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your stomach. He kicked the blanket off of him, “it's hot.” 

“Power turned back on.” 

He shifts, laying beside you and pulling you into his side. “I’m sorry about last night.” 

“Mhm hm, I know.” Your fingers dragged along his shirt. Erling looked down at you, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he says, like it's obvious. 

“No,” you joked, smiling at him. Erling knows you were, you don’t really do emotions or say sorry but he knows you are. 

He laughs, kissing your forehead.“Shall we go get breakfast?” 

You groan, burying your face in his side. “We have to take two cars.” “Oh and move the tree.” He reminds you, making you groan again. 

--- 

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[mrsriddles-blog]

Get Him Back | D.M

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Ex-Draco Malfoy X Theodore Nott

WC: 4k+

Warnings/Notes: Bullying, mild language, heartbreak, angst…

Summary: In which, you and Draco ended on a bad note and you’ve decided to seek out revenge…but unexpectedly you fall in love.

Authors Notes: Honestly, not my best piece… :/ I know I could’ve done better, but I kinda just went with it on this. Theodore was unplanned lol

One, two, three

Wait, is the song with the drums?

“Draco, I understand that Miss. Y/n Riddle is quite pretty, but I would like for you to pay attention to my lesson.” Professor McGonagall says.

The class laughs and you refuse to turn around to give Draco that attention after everything you had been through with him. Pansy smiles sadly at you, seeing exactly how much this hurt you.

You knew Draco from around Hogwarts, but you both had gotten together over the summer after getting closer once your families came to know each other. Everything was perfect in the beginning, but it all came crashing down eventually.

Draco is quite good at hiding his true colors, especially at the beginning of a relationship. You learned that he hid those true colors for so long in hopes it would be harder for you to leave…that you would learn to deal with it like it was normal.

You’ve told Pansy that somewhere in his delusional mind that he must’ve forgotten you're a Riddle and you don’t put up with anyones bullshit. You don’t tolerate anyone's disrespect though…maybe a bad trait you picked up from your father, but it’s okay.

Draco was a sweet guy, but then it turned out he had a big ego and he was a narcissistic liar. He was the most fun guy you knew and he had weird friends like Crabbe and Goyle. They were funny too. He used his name and money to get you both into the coolest parties, nights that you felt like would never end.

But, then he started to show more of his true colors. He learned when he began to say things wrong or his lies somehow got twisted back on himself, that he could just take you to a place you dreamed of or to buy you a “sentimental” gift. You found yourself missing him on nights you felt really sad or alone, but your feelings for him were up and down. You knew you wanted to get him back for what he did to you. You want him to hurt the way he hurt you.

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring

He argued with me about everything

He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye

He said he’s six-foot-two, and I’m like, “Dude, nice try”

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

Another song, another club, another bar, another dance

And when he said something wrong, he’d just fly me to France

So I miss him some nights when I’m feeling depressed

‘Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend

Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down

If I had to choose, I would say right now

Pansy was dressed as an angel for the Halloween party and you were dressed as a devil. You wore a tight black mini-dress, and Pansy wore a tight white mini-dress. She had angel wings and a halo while you had devil horns and a tail. She wore white heels while you wore black. You stood in the corner with Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo and Blaise as you watched Pansy go get you both drinks.

She was on her way back when Draco approached her. You watch his flirty smile as he trails his hand up her arm to her face. You watch as that flirty smile dropped and his face twisted to one of pain as he crouched down to grab himself. You smirk as Pansy strides to you and hands you a green solo cup.

“Can you believe him? He just tried to make a pass on me? After the shit he did to you, he thought he had a chance with your bestie? He truly is a delusional fuck.” She snorts.

“He did that a lot when we were dating. He always had a wandering eye…I just thought I was being over-sensitive or something.” You say, glancing over at Draco who was now sulking at the bar.

“Hey, don’t let that dumb fuck make you sad. He is nothing to you.” She says sternly.

You smile, unconvinced as you down the drink in your cup. Mattheo and Tom watch with frowns, knowing very well you weren’t over Draco. They looked at each other before making their way over to the bar. You and Pansy moved out to the dance floor, dancing as Enzo and Theodore kept watch over you both.

You both stopped dancing like everyone else as you heard a commotion. You follow the shouting and see your brothers beating the fuck out of Draco. You push through the crowd, trying to diffuse the fight when Theodore wraps an arm around your waist.

“He deserves it fiore, just let it go.” He murmurs in your ear.

“But, if we don’t break this up…Tom and Mattheo could potentially get caught. If Snape hears this, he will be so mad. If they get in trouble and our dad finds out…they’ll get in so much trouble.” You say.

“Trust me, they won’t get in trouble. Your father has requested this to happen.” He murmurs.

You were at a loss for words as Mattheo and Tom stepped back, leaving Draco on the floor. He barely lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours before Mattheo throws another punch at his face, cursing him for even daring to look at you. You struggle against Theodore, but you manage to reach forward and put a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder.

“Matty, please.” You plead.

“This fucker deserves this and more for everything he did to you.” He snaps.

You flinch, not use to that tone from Mattheo. Growing up with the father you had, you three were always together. Granted, you three had a strange bond for being triplets, but your brothers had shown you a side they never showed anyone. Mattheo tensed as Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glares at Mattheo.

You take your hand off his shoulder, pulling away from Theodore before storming through the crowd before hearing a random girl laugh about you being sensitive. You turn, throwing a punch at her nose, hearing the satisfying crack as she falls backwards, unconscious.

You turn, continuing your trek to your dorm where you slam the door, locking it before lying on your bed. You grab the jumper that was Draco’s. You had stolen it from him, it was his favorite. You throw it in the fireplace, watching it burn with a sick satisfaction growing in the pit of your stomach.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back, back, back

“You can’t ignore me forever.” Mattheo sighs as he follows you to the Great Hall.

“She can, and she probably will.” Tom says, following as well, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“She is ignoring you too dipshit.” He snaps.

Draco walks up to you, glancing at your brothers fearfully and you tilt your head at him, a small smirk on your face.

“Y/n/n, can we talk?” He asks.

“No.” You say.

“I want…I want to apologize…I messed up, royally and I just…I really miss you.” He says.

“Hey, fiore.” Theodore says, coming up beside you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning down to kiss your head. You look up at him and smile. He smiled back, your brothers gaping at you both from behind you guys.

“You’ve…moved on with the guy I was worried about you cheating on me with?” He asks in disbelief.

“Malfoy…if I were you, I’d get out of my fucking face. If you truly knew Y/n, you would know you wouldn’t have to worry about her cheating. When she gives you the chance to love her as she does you, you take that fucking chance and hold onto it fucking tight.” Theodore says, splaying a hand on your back and stomach as he angles himself between you and Draco.

Draco scoffs, looking you over once before storming out of the Great Hall. You look up at Theodore and smile.

“Couldn’t have had better timing.” You say and he grins.

“Oh, I know.” He says.

“Um, excuse me. When the fuck did this happen?” Mattheo asks, stepping between you two, Theodore’s hands leaving you.

“We are fake dating in order to get Draco back. I wanted revenge and I decided to hit him where it hurts.” You explain.

“Fake dating…right.” He murmurs, looking at Theodore.

“Come on, fiore.” Theodore says, walking you to the table.

“Awww, I broke my streak of ignoring them.” You grumble.

“I think you ignored them long enough, fiore. They’ve apologized more than I’ve witnessed them fight…and they fight a lot.” He says, chuckling as your brothers take a seat at the table.

“So, what are the rules for this…fake dating?” Mattheo asks.

“No falling in love.” You say, picking at your plate of food.

“Like that ever works.” Mattheo mumbles, Tom the only one able to hear him.

Theodore wraps his arm around your waist, looking over at you for a moment. You glance down the table to see Draco glaring at Theodore. You felt a tinge of pride before you felt guilty for the fake-dating thing with Theodore. You knew he always had feelings for you, but you hoped that he’d get over it. But, by how easily he agreed to this plan of yours…you were pretty sure there were some underlying feelings there still.

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash

‘Cause I miss the way he kisses me and the way he made me laugh

Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I’m hitting “Send”

I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends

Because everyone knew all of the shit that he’d do

He said I was the only girl but that just wasn’t the truth

And when I told him how he hurt me, he’d tell me I was trippin’

But I am my father’s daughter, so maybe I could fix him

“Theodore, are you ready?” You groan impatiently.

“Almost, fiore.” He calls from the bathroom.

You walk over to the mirror in his dorm, smoothing out the skin-tight dark green dress. You fix your hair, before looking yourself over in the mirror once more. You nod just as Theodore walks out. You look over to see him dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned all the way. Some of his sculpted chest was on show. His hair was a fluffy mess as usual.

“You look beautiful, fiore.” He murmurs.

Your cheeks flush red, smiling shyly at him as you nod. He chuckles, one that went straight to your core. You guys walk out and decide to immediately go to dance. As you're dancing, his eyes flicker over your shoulder as they harden.

He pulls you closer to him, his hand wandering down your ass and grabbing it roughly. You gasp, looking up at him to see him look down at you. He leans down and kisses you, one that is deep and passionate. Your hands get lost in his hair and you realize that somewhere along the way, you broke the number one rule: don't fall in love.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for his tender love and care. Not to mention how sweet and gentle he was with you. He treated you as if you were royalty and it was sweet. You found yourself loving the way he laughs and the way he grabs your ass. You pull back, only to pull him back into a kiss.

“I think I broke our rule.” You whisper against his lips.

“You didn’t say anything about already being in love, so I technically didn’t break it. I just hoped that maybe you’d realized how much you mean to me.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry, Theo…I should’ve realized sooner.” You admit quietly.

“Don’t apologize. I have you now and that is all that matters. However, I know you've been wanting to get Malfoy back and I don’t blame you.” He says, swaying with you to the sensual song.

“No, no, enough of this getting Malfoy back. Malfoy had his chance. Yes, he fucked up…but I can’t keep letting that hold me back. I’ve been sulking over a relationship that didn’t work out for obvious reasons and all along…I should’ve been with the person who was standing right in front of me.” You mumble.

“We’ll get him back together. But, as an official girlfriend and boyfriend duo. Maybe next time he’ll think before breaking a good girl's heart.” He murmurs.

“Nott, I get that you both are confessing your love right now, but please get your hand off my sister's ass.” Mattheo calls.

Theodore chuckles, looking down at you, squeezing your ass once more before moving his hand back to your hip. Your cheeks flush red as you shake your head in amusement.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back

You were in detention with Theodore, Mattheo, Tom and Draco. Mattheo and Tom got to sit together while you and Theodore got to sit together. Draco was sulking in the front of the room. You and Theodore were cuddled up together, whispering and laughing quietly.

“Okay, I get it. You are all happy, but will tone it the fuck down.” Draco seethes.

“Malfoy, I get it. You are throwing yourself a pity party because you let the best girl in this world slip through your fingers. But, that was your fucking fault. Just because you're pissed doesn’t mean you can take away her happiness. I’ll beat the fuck out of you before letting that happen again.” Theodore warns.

“I’ll help.” Mattheo chirps, grinning at Draco.

“So will I…I’m sure you remember that my methods are a bit more practical…like my fathers.” Tom says, looking at Draco unamused.

“Whatever.” Draco mumbles.

“Let’s get out of here. I have an idea.” You whisper to Theodore.

“Bet.” He murmurs.

You both were quick to leave, laughing quietly as you both snuck back to the Common Room. You grab his hand, dragging him along to the boys dormitories.

“Fiore, where are we going?” Theodore murmurs confused as you both passed his dorm.

“I figured out a way to get Malfoy back. We do it and get back to detention before Snape notices.” You murmur, excitement dancing across your features.

“Take it away, fiore.” He murmurs.

You continue to lead Theodore down the hall until you reach Draco’s dorm. You use a spell, unlocking his door before you both slip in. You see his broom in the corner of the room and grin. You pull the key to your dorm out before you start to completely ruin his broom. Theodore was quietly laughing from where he stood as you continued your handiwork. You stand, the both of you giggling as you both hurry back to detention.

“Where did you lovebirds sneak off to?” Mattheo asks.

“I got hungry.” You say simply.

“And I follow her wherever she goes. I’m simply only allowed a chains length away. She’s got me on a tight leash.” Theodore teases.

“Oh shush, I do not.” You say, your cheeks flushing red.

“Mhm, right.” He teases with his perfect small smile.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back)

Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back)

With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back)

“Who did it?” Draco demands, storming into the Common Room with his destroyed broom.

You look over, fighting the smirk that wanted to appear on your face. Your handiwork looked quite brilliant if you say so for yourself. So, this is what sweet revenge feels like? Theodore continues to rub your legs that were draped across his lap.

“Was it you?” He asks, storming towards you.

Theodore jumps up, standing in front of you as your brothers flank Theodore’s side. You stand up, only for Theodore to push you back on the couch. With one warning look from him, your ass was planted on the couch.

“You don’t get to come in here demanding stuff, Malfoy. Especially from my girl. If you ever come at her like that again, you’ll be in for a rude awakening.” Theodore warns.

“She has literally been striving to ruin my life because she can’t handle a summer fling.” He snaps.

“No, she hasn’t strived to do anything you idiot. You know it wasn’t a summer fling. It was a relationship that you messed up.” Mattheo snaps.

You push past Theodore, ignoring his stern scolding. You look Draco dead in the eye, before taking another step forward.

“If I’ve wanted to ruin your life, trust me, it would be in shambles by now. I’m far more capable and far more cruel than my brothers and father. There is a reason our mother isn’t named and trust me, I’m far too much like her.” You warn.

“Just admit it! This was you! My father will kill me if he finds out my new broom is ruined! You should know better than anyone!” He snaps.

“You're scared of your father? You're scared of what he might do? Well clearly you haven’t met my father.” You laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Y/n…just admit it. Please.” He pleads.

“Admit to something that I had no hand in? I think you forget that you’ve got far too many enemies on your plate. Keep it up and I will give you something to worry about.” You murmur quietly, so only he could hear you.

He shakes his head, turning and leaving. You turn and look up at Theodore who was looking down at you with a stern look.

“Oh, come on. I handled that very well.” You sigh.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You should’ve stayed behind me and let us handle it. God knows what Malfoy would be willing to do to you.” He says, a frown evident on his face.

“But, I can handle my own problems.” You mumble.

“I know, but I’m here to help you.” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

You plop onto the couch, ignoring him as you felt both guilty and upset. You wanted to let him be happy with helping you, but you also wanted to be able to defend yourself. Theodore sighs, lifting your legs as he sits down next you, putting your legs on his lap.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to be able to protect you. That summer…I could tell how much you loved and cared for Malfoy and he couldn’t even reciprocate that and he strived off hurting you. It hurt me to see you hurting…to see you with him when I wanted to be with you. I wanted to take care of you and to protect you…I wanted to show you what love could really be.” He says.

“I understand that, Theo…I do, but you can’t shield me from the world. There are some battles that are mine to fight. But, I’m not saying I don’t need you there with me. You’re my rock.” You explain.

Oh, I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

Stitch it right back up

I wanna kiss his face (I want to get him back)

With an uppercut

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

And tell her her son sucks, yeah

“Alright, are we done with this Malfoy revenge thing? Because as far as I know…you’ve made him jealous of you and Theodore…fake dating that led to real dating…ruining his broom…what else?” Mattheo murmurs.

“And there!” You exclaim as his pumpkin juice ends up all over his face and the front of his shirt.

“Is that it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, unsure. You felt like there was one more thing you needed to do to ensure your revenge. You knew it wasn’t the brightest thing to keep doing this to Draco. Some would view that you had done enough. But, you weren’t so sure. Draco hurt you in ways you didn’t think was possible. You always thought of yourself as stronger than that.

“Draco has been talking about you.” Pansy says, taking a seat across from you after pushing Mattheo down the bench.

“Rude.” He grumbles.

“Oh, what has he been saying?” You ask curiously.

“That he misses you…that he feels bad…he might’ve said something about Theo, but I’m not sure if it’s true or not.” She says.

“What did he say about Theo?” You ask.

“That he’s been seeing other girls behind your back.” She mumbles.

“No, no, that’s not true. Theo wouldn’t ever do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“He has a track record.” Pansy mumbles.

You stay quiet, looking down at Draco before grabbing your bag and pulling out a truth potion. You pour it into your cup of pumpkin juice before switching yours and Theodore’s cups.

“Should I be concerned that you just have those on you?” Tom asks.

“It’s for good reason.” You mutter, tucking your bag away as Theodore walks in.

He sits, taking a drink of his pumpkin juice before looking around the table confused as they were all glancing at each other.

“So…my father has asked me to question you…in order for us to protect Y/n/n from getting hurt anymore.” Tom says.

“Ask away.” Theodore says.

“Are you being true to my sister?” He asks.

“Yes.” He murmurs.

“Is Y/n the only girl or do you have other side pieces?” He asks.

“Y/n is the only girl.” He says, his hand grabbing yours under the table.

“Do you love her?” He asks.

“Yes.” He says.

“What are your intentions with her?” He asks.

“To love her…to protect her… to cherish her and give her the world. I want to shield her from anymore hurt. Trust me, I never want to see her hurting again.” He says.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenege

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back, back

“My lord, I-I’m sorry.” Draco stutters.

You were being held by Theodore. He had an arm around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him. He had a hand over your mouth so that your father wouldn’t be angry with you for trying to protect Draco. Despite everything Draco did to you, you knew even this was too far.

“You hurt my daughter. Do you know how much she means to me? She means the world to me and no one is allowed to hurt her.” Voldemort snarls.

Except you, you think.

“I’m s-sorry my lord! I’m so sorry! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Just make this stop, my lord! Please!” He pleads.

“You’ll be daunted with extra tasks and knowing that if you don’t finish them, the death of your father and mother before your eyes will be your fault before I kill you myself. Stay away from Y/n or I’ll ruin you myself, Malfoy.” He warns.

He let Draco up who left quickly, not sparing a glance back. Theodore uncovered your mouth before your father could see. He wipes the stray tear off your cheek right before your father turned to you.

“He’ll stay away from you now, princess.” Voldemort murmurs, stepping forward and cupping your cheek.

“T-Thank you father.” You whisper.

“Of course. Now go on.” He murmurs.

I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him back

Get him back, come on, come on

I’m gonna get him so good, he won’t even know what hit him

He’s gonna love me and hate me at the same time

Get him back, girl, you better get him back

I don’t know I got him good, I got him really good

[letsgetrowdy43]

Honey’s Tattoo Tour—

Au Masterlist!!

I was thinking a little bit about Honey, and I was like imagine how sick it would be if she just had all these cute tattoos littered all over her skin!!

So here’s a little tattoo tour for her!!

For the most part, her tattoos all have important meanings to her, it started as just a little fun and cute thing, but the more she worked with artists in the Vancouver area the more she realized the sort of art behind it!!

A little added piece of information is that Quinn normally has a strong dislike for tattoos, but the look of Honey with tattoos has his knees weak! They are all just so pretty, and a little sexy, that he has no choice but to love them, plus some of them hold such importance in their relationship and he just adores them!

Her first ever tattoo was the lyric “Honey, there is no right way” from Hozier's song ‘Someone New’ that she got in her senior year of high school on the inside of her right arm just a few days before she graduated. The song is a reflection on the complexity of love and the human desire for connection, which at the time was something Honey was just out of reach of. It highlights the need to find a love that brings meaning to one's life and at this specific time in her life, she deeply resonated with wanting to find that one.

She didn't get her second tattoo until her final year of university, during a break with Quinn. The tattoo is a black and white depiction of Sir John Millais' "Ophelia." Being the angst teenager she was, she felt a deep connection with the character Ophelia from William Shakespeare's play "Hamlet". Ophelia's emotional vulnerability and her descent into madness felt very personal to Honey when she was at the ripe age of 16 (dramatic as shit... but she is so me), the character embodies the fear of losing oneself in the face of overwhelming emotions such as love and anger all the while dealing with external pressures. It was definitely an ode to her younger self but also resonated with the 20-year-old version of herself who was trying to navigate the break with the love of her life. aren't we all just a deeply disturbed teenage girl at heart :)  

Her third tattoo happened a few weeks into the summer of 2021, just after her University graduation. She had just gotten back together with Quinn and moved her entire life to Canada to be with him, and now she was beginning to build her media marketing portfolio by taking some shots for a tattoo and piercing shop in downtown Vancouver. The artist she had been doing shoots with and helping to manage their websites offered to do a tattoo for her at a discounted price if she ever wanted. She ended up getting leaves on her hip bones, it was her first really impulsive tattoo and one of the most painful, but she was obsessed with the outcome. They don't hold any significant meaning to her, but they really boosted her confidence and Quinn was absolutely obsessed with them when she surprised him with them, so she really loves them.

Her fourth tattoo was the big piece on her back, she reached out to an artist who specializes in floral and colour tattoos and commissioned a piece that was in homage to paintings her mother made when she was a child. Her mother used to paint these intricate floral pieces to hang up around the house, and eventually, every extended family member in her family had a signature piece in their home. Honey was gifted the one that hung in her grandmother's lake house just after she passed, and she hung it up in hers and Quinn's room at the Michigan Lake house. She got it tattooed on her back a year later (around Warren's first birthday) so she could always have a piece of her grandma and her mother at her at all times!

Her fifth tattoo was one she got during All-Star week a few years after both Hayden and Warren were born. It was the first time they were kid-free in a long while, and while he and the other all-stars were doing media for Bauer and other league activities, the girls went out for the day. One of the other wives suggested getting tattoos. Initially, she got a simple "43" on her sternum, following the trend of other wives and girlfriends getting their partner's numbers. However, she ended up really liking the artist's line work and asked if she could get a full piece done before flying back to Vancouver. The artist had availability the next day and managed to fit Honey into her schedule before the skills competition. She ended up getting a lunar moth just beneath the "43," starting on her sternum and dipping down to span her abdomen. The tattoo was an homage to their first summer as a married couple, a summer where everywhere they seemed to go lunar moths followed them. Quinn finds it incredibly sexy, thinking it makes her boobs look even more perfect (which he didn't know was humanly possible), and he couldn't stop kissing it once it healed.

Her final tattoo was one she got when Maeve was around 3, Hayden was 8, and Warren was 10. It was a collaborative piece by all her kids: Maeve drew the basic shapes of the flowers, Hayden added the details, and Warren contributed the fine lines. This tattoo is a little piece of her babies and their childhood, etched onto her forever. It's probably her favourite piece because it means the most to her.

-

-

[chimeraboy-girlcock]

i played maid with friends again!

Summary below:

Maid RPG - 2025/04/05:

After some rolling we ended up with a cast of…

Dias Tirés Rebolt - 32 year old sickly loli, allegedly a maid for bridal training, is a delinquent and has tattoos (@mimeo-tan)

Elise Dawnsoul - Chuuni 16 year old, became a contract killer and later a maid because of her parent's gambling debts (@maiden-of-blades)

Dostoevsky - Alien shapeshifter, blue skin, maid because ??? (@nimbasa-c0re)

Dahlia Deathsin - (1X +-3) years old Illegitimate catgirl half sister of the master, has burns and a missing eye from various assassination attempts (@yukification) and…

Prince Deparr Deathsin - 1X year old 2nd legitimate child of the evil emperor seeking to conquer the world in the name of the Evil Organization. Also, a bishounen and otaku (this is why his servants are maids instead of respectable henchwomen…) (Me!!!!!)

(content warnings you'd expect from this case (incest, age gap) but nothing too severe I don't think. Ended up at TV ecchi anime levels and not like, hentai OVA. This time.)

and then we started the game!

On a normal day, Deparr would be plotting to finally DESTROY Masked Squadron Galaxy Five, his father's greatest enemies and only real threat to destroying the world!

…but for the next week or so, they're all on some kind of "summer vacation" and off fighting his sister instead. She's getting a whole movie with a higher effects budget and everything.

So instead Prince Deathsin is inclined to spend all day moping in bed, and it's up to his loyal servants to get his spirits up. Or not. Who knows.

Before anything, we see where the four maids were at around 7:30 AM:

Dias was trying to get a normal cup of orange juice (no alchohol! for sure!) from the bar

Elise was in the dining area cleaning, like some sort of actual maid. Even if her thoughts were occasionally about various anime heroines instead.

Dostoevsky was sweeping the balcony overlooking the pool, pushing dust onto...

Dahlia, who was slacking by the pool. As she tends to do.

And then at 8 AM all of them heard the chime, and knew it was time for the master to be roused from bed. Not that all of them cared. Still, Dostoevsky attempted to wake up Deathsin, but failed. He was awake, but only glared at her. Why get up at all?

Elise tried next, and managed to actually encourage him awake. This pep talk was surprisingly successful, and he did get out of bed and get dressed (in sweat pants and a tee-shirt, but he's bishounen enough that it worked. Collarbone showing and everything, very lewd.)

At the same time, Dahlia sees a black blur run past the pool and into the mansion, and follows it to the bar, where Dias sees the same black blur as it lands on the counter as a cat! Before the cat can start knocking bottles off the bar, Dias and Dahlia manage to catch it, and despite it's protests Dias keeps a hold of it, naming him 'Redien Diabolíc VII'

Soon after Dostoevsky and Elise also enter the kitchen, and everyone except Dias helps make pancakes and coffee for their master after he finishes his morning work.

Cooking goes well, everyone is introduced to the cat - which to Elise's surprise is not a pet of the master, but some kind of stray? Or perhaps a spy (according to Dahlia) - and the master's mood improved slightly.

Unfortunately, at that moment a heat wave hits, and suddenly work is much harder…

Because of the heat, Dias ends up bringing Prince Deathsin to the cooler with Redien, and they spend some time there together. Meanwhile, Elise attempts to work through the heat, and Dostoevsky literally melts next to the pool. Dahlia's also there, slacking off once again.

Eventually, Deathsin decides it's time to swim, and has Dias (who's only following him because the cat seems to like him, but he doesn't know that) pick out his swimsuit. She picks something very modest, but his pure bishie energy makes this too work. Dias changes to a one-piece maid swimsuit as well, and Elise independantly decides she'll go for a swim too (changing into a maid bikini).

As Deathsin, Dias and Elise arrive to the pool, Dahlia dives underwater to hide and Dostoevsky stands at attention before going to change as well. While Elise waits for Dahlia to run out of water and come up, Prince Deathsin jumps in…

And slams right into Dahlia as she comes up for air, grabbing at her as he tries not to drown. In response, she chews him out and tosses him out of the pool. Ouch.

(Meanwhile, Dias is swimming normally, and Redien is stuck on a waveboard trying not to fall in.)

Right at that moment, Dostoevsky returns in her "swimsuit" - basically just a maid themed set of pasties - and barrels through everyone, knocking Deparr back in, bringing Elise with her, and knocking Dias out in the pool.

(Redien escapes, to parts unknown…)

But before anyone can react to that - and most importantly, before Dahlia can yell at her too - a red dot appears on Prince Deathsin's head. Dahlia recognizes this as a laser sight and throws her half brother out of the pool again, this time pulling him away before the sniper can take the shot

Then, as they run, the shot is fired and explodes, damaging everyone's clothing

Dias has a hole torn in the back of her swimsuit, Elise's bikini threatens to burst as it's generally disheveled, Dostoevsky loses one (1) pasty, and Dahlia manages to block Prince Deathsin from harm in a way that tears open the front of her (still soaking wet) uniform

(Deathsin is unharmed, but the blast manages to destroy his swimsuit in a way that reduces it perfectly to a pair of swim briefs)

And then Dahlia pulls Deathsin with her into the pool shed, and - having somehow gone from flat to extremely busty the moment her top was opened - fails to have a conversation without him looking away

Annoyed and trying to convince him there's literally nothing weird about it - they're siblings, evil jesus christ, don't be gross - puts his hand on her boob

Aaaaaand successfully rolls to seduce him. Yay!

Cutting away from that, Elise successfully shoots the sniper - sent by the [Country Name] government to try and kill an evil organization executive while the heroes were away - while Dostoevsky cleans up the mess. Dias, for her part (and having returned to her normal uniform), stumbles on the shed and opens the door...

To see Dahlia on top of Deparr, close enough that his face is basically fully in her boobs while she lectures him. He's far too embarassed to do anything but blush at this point.

Dias gestures wildly to try and explain how indecent this is/how surprising it is that Dahlia suddenly has boobs, and eventually Dahlia gets up and goes to get changed. Prince Deathsin follows suit, while Elise does the same with her own ruined bikini.

Dostoevsky does not change, and instead goes straight to the kitchen to make a late lunch (scary anime cooking purple slop soup) while still basically naked (but only one blue nipple is exposed, so does it really count…?)

At the same time, Dias tries and fails to make a sandwich, and ends up tearing her own uniform and covered in suggestive white fluid (mayonnaise)

Right after that, Dostoevsky has her try the scary soup - offered like this:

And the others all walk in to see...

Her legitimately ahegao from just how good it was, while Dostoyevsky drops to the floor in disappointment - that's fine, but she expected more!

Then the others - reluctantly - all try in turn, and have similar reactions

Elise also food-wars-style orgasms from it, and only stops her clothes from exploding by sheer force of will (but another failure...)

Dahlia tries it - just to make sure it's not poisoned - and is soo affected she leaves a puddle on the ground (the first successful soup seduction!!!)

And Deathsin tries it and is so overcome with emotion he kisses Dostoevsky - before Dias throws a tantrum to bring him back to decency (close, but no seduction this time)

Then Dostoevsky tries her own soup and. Eh. It's fine.

After that, everyone awkardly finishes the pot of soup together, and the rest of the day (cleaning, Deparr working, and dinner) proceed relatively normally (i.e. were skipped)

Until! Bathtime…

Normally Deparr, y'know, bathes alone - he's not that much of a pervert, to ask his servants to join him - although he does get assistance undressing

(Dahlia, for some reason, insists on being the one to do it this time) While he attempts to relax (with Radien joining him, for some reason? But that's fine, it's just a cat ^_^) Dias bursts in and innocently argues with him to wash her back

Eventually he agrees, and something about her is almost seductive… Until Dostoevsky bursts through the (already bursted through and now closed) door! (censored only by steam and Radien blocking the camera)

(Dahlia is also watching (as she has in the past before trying to kill Deparr - which is ofc normal) and getting annoyingly distracted by him being handsome, and Elise is peeping at the door for fun (as one does))

Anyway, Dahlia also joins in preventing Dias's seduction attempt - which she's now going all out and spending favor on - and ends up flipping the Prince over again...

And hurts him enough to cause a stress explosion!

His is "Spoiled Child", so he starts whining at her about how mean she is and the two end up wrestling. Dahlia trounces him (using her maid power "Ultimate Retort"), and ends up spanking him in front of everyone! Damn.

This is so distracting that Dahlia is the only one who notices as Radien jumps into the hot bath water, and in his place rises… Another catgirl! Covered in a bodysuit, and wielding a sword!!

She introduces herself as Katarina Purrsuant, and rants about how she's spent all day waiting to kill Deparr as revenge for the Evil Organization's conquest of her home - helped by collaborators, one of whom ended up being Dahlia's mother - and swings for the Prince!

…But Dahlia easily defends him and Elise (with her maid power "Coercion") strips her, tearing her top open!

Dostoevsky tries to land a flying kick (with Dahlia's help) as a finishing blow, but Dias stops them, causing both Dahlia and Dostoevsky to slip while she hugs Kataraina - or rather, Radien, who's still her new cat even if he's a human girl now for some reason.

Katarina tries to escape, but Dias keeps her bound as everyone else grabs at her. In the tussle she accidentally activates the showers on the side of the large bath and (following Ranma rules) becomes a cat again. At this point she gives up, and lets Dias cuddle her.

The enemy is defeated, Deparr is shaken out of his stress explosion, and it's time for everyone to wrap up for the night…

(Oh, and also while Dahlia gropes Deparr and Dostoevsky under the guise of cleaning she almost gets seduced by Elise by way of a single butt tap, but doesn't quite)

Epilogue scenes:

Dias cuddles with Radien - sometimes in catgirl form, sometimes in cat form - who's given up on resisting. By the time she goes to bed (still hugging the cat) Radien's been collared and is compeltely defeated

Dahlia crosses out all her seduction plans to get into power within the Deathsin family and writes up a new one - Seduction… (she also fantasizes about Dostoevsky some)

And finally, the winners of the favor race get the final scene…

Dostoevsky reacts as her UFO lands, and she holds out her hand to Elise offering her a ride…

(once again like this:)

…before Prince Deathsin says that Elise can't go, because he need ss someone to be an actual maid around here

(Also, the evil organization is probably(?) from space, so it's not like she can't just go later)

Dostoevsky calls off the UFO, Deathsin pays off Elise's family's gambling debts

(vaguely promoting gambling so it's still evil!! he'll even throw a pachinko monster at the heroes when they come back)

and the night finally ends…

-FIN-

[enluv]

love spill !

PAIRING! - rockstar!jay (enha) x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: angst-ish but not really + fluff later !!, reader is stressed/exhausted, profanity, slow burn(?)

coco’s ♡ note: this came from a mini game I answered once and literally could not get over because I need rockstar bf jay so badly, I might make more with this jay too so let me know if you like it or have any rockstar!bf jay thoughts because I will indulge and write them !!! literally adore this jay so much ahhhh!!!

Finally.

Finally some piece and quiet away from the shared apartment you live in with the three younger boys.

Perhaps living with your younger brother and his university friends wasn’t the best idea, especially when you had a ten page journalism report due by three pm the next day.

That’s why you find yourself here on a hot summers day sitting in your favorite cafe, it’s not busy on Fridays and is hidden enough so the boys won’t find you for a while, but they will come looking eventually.

The bell of the cafes door rings to signify it being opened but this report is due tomorrow and you can’t stop to look up, but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have because now as you watch the hot brown liquid seep into your laptops keyboard you become painfully aware of the boy in front of you who’d walked in early wearing the most guilt ridden expression. His words muffled as you watch your screen go black.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. Wait here let me get something to clean this up.” He’s fumbling with the other drinks in his hand as he tries to reach for napkins to clean the spill he’s made.

Where else would you go really? Right now you’re just waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. Had the program even saved the other three pages you’d written? Was your hard work gone just like that? Would your professor even believe you if you told him what happened? Even if it sounded straight out of a movie?

“Just leave it, I’ll clean it myself. Please leave.”

He stills at your words, no malice or emotions within them just exhaustion. The tone of your voice makes his heart ache, and he swears to himself that he’s going to make up for this for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry for this really, I need to leave because I have a schedule to get to but I promise I’ll make this up to you. Can I have your number?”

Your stare makes him feel small, then he realizes how his question sounds after a minute passes between you two.

“Wait I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not asking you out. Not saying I wouldn’t ask you out but I’m not doing that right now! I just need it so I can text you to pay you back, or I can pay to get your laptop fixed. I’ll send you the money or even if you want buy you a new one.”

Jay can’t tell what you’re thinking but somehow he’s walking out of the cafe with your phone number and an assortment of drinks for his members. Dreading having to explain to them just what happened in the cafe.

unknown (2:46pm):

uh hey this is jay, I’m the one who dropped my coffee on your laptop, really sorry about that by the way!! um i want to give you these so I can say sorry again in person because my mom always said to apologize face to face or you don’t mean it and also that way we can figure out the laptop money thing together.

unknown (2:47pm):

four attachments sent

just stop by tomorrow and have some fun and then after I’ll come find you and we can talk!! what’s your name by the way?

you (3:12pm):

it’s y/n. thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I cannot believe some random dude gave you tickets to see downfall, like this show has been sold out for months and I mean months, talking eight months and he just gave up four tickets to see them? He must be loaded! Tell him you want a new computer and game console, I want the newest version.”

Jungwon’s excited rambles bring a smile to your face, sure just yesterday you’d cried almost all the water out your body until Jungwon had called your professor and explained in detail (along with sticking the phone in your room so he could hear your cries) the situation, but he’d also somehow gotten you an extension on your paper for the next week. He seriously deserved the random concert tickets the stranger, Jay, had sent you.

Receiving them was odd but he’d convinced you with the promise of fixing your laptop and that’s honestly all that mattered, so if you had to sit through a three hour long show next to some stranger who spilled coffee on your laptop then so be it because you’d be getting it fixed no matter what.

Except instead of said random stranger sitting next to you, an actual random stranger stood beside you excitedly yapping with her friends and the random stranger you had expected was perched on stage with a guitar in hand, microphone stationed in front of him like it belonged to him, and soon enough you’d realize from the crowds hollers that it did belong to him.

“ARE YOU READY FOR TONIGHT?” He’s met with screams all around the arena.

“That’s what I like to hear, alright let’s go.”

The shock of who Jay was really didn’t cease even after the show had ended and the four of you began to walk out the packed venue, it doesn’t really go away until a large man comes to escort you backstage.

“Hey buddy I think you have the wrong people, we’re just here still because my sisters waiting for someone.” Jungwon’s voice breaks you out of your shock and the man nods as if he knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah he’s backstage, just follow me.”

Jay fidgets with the bag he has in his hands, earlier he’d dragged the boys along with him to pick you out a new laptop and even threw in a new case and holder for it. He really wanted to get the image of your exhausted eyes out of his mind, he wanted to see you happy and healthy.

“Y/N you didn’t tell us the guy who spilled coffee on you was one of the members of downfall,” the voice he hears is failing to whisper as you get closer.

“Are we about to meet one of the members? What if it’s just like a staff or something like why would an actual member be getting their coffee and oh my god that’s the lead singer Jay.”

He laughs shyly at the boy who’s mouth is now wide open pointing excitedly at him, but he quickly shuts up as he spots you. You look so pretty, completely different from when he’d last saw you drenched in coffee and exhaustion all over your face. Right now you looked content and really really pretty.

“Hey Y/N, I know I said I’d give you the money to fix your laptop but I thought you should just have a completely brand new one, I’m really sorry for spilling my coffee on yours, I’m sure you were busy and needed it, I hope you can use this new one well,” his breath hitches as he holds out the bag to you and your fingers touch briefly, “and I hope you liked the show, I see your friends did.” He sends a wave their way and laughs when they all excitedly wave back.

A smile begins to develop on your cheeks and his heart races. This is exactly how he’d like to see you, happy and smiling.

Later that night as you pull out the new laptop determined to finish your nearly complete paper, a small card flutters out with it that reads —

“I wrote this to say not only sorry again, but to also ask if you’d like to go out with me sometime? and I mean it this time, as in I am actually asking you out unlike last time when I, you know accidentally asked you out unintentionally, this time I promise it’s intentional. Please let me make up the god awful first meeting we had, I promise it’ll be worthwhile. You have my number so if you want to then just shoot me a text but if not then that’s fine with me too! – Jay”

A smile forms on your face as you set down the card and get to working on your essay, the answer to Jay’s proposition already clear in your mind. Yes.

coco’s love note: i am so terribly down bad for jay it’s crazy. he’s so just perfect like I adore him so much!! and I’m the biggest rockstar!jay enthusiast like I just had to write something about it, plus I think it’s so adorable how he’s clumsy in this fic but a crazy rager on stage & only mc gets to see both sides of him fully! I hope you enjoyed this fic! As always, feedback & reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

enhypen taglist?! @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie (bold can’t be tagged!) Wanna be added to the taglist? – Check out THIS post!

[airedelalmena]

God I loathe men's summer clothing.

I wouldn't feel comfortable wearing women's, either, or like the way it looked on me, so that's not an option. But it's so beautiful. Always going to be bitter about this lol. All those hats and fun sundresses and different cuts of tops and shorts and one-pieces... The light "wraps"/cardigan sorts of things. Even the most boyish women's summer wear gives Katharine Hepburn elegance IMO.

But men's summer "fashion" just encapsulates everything that sucks about men's clothing, all in one. There's almost no way to make it look good. Shorts are ass. Most t shirts thrown on top of it just feel little-boyish. Tank tops feel like underwear, which they used to be and IMO still are. (Hell, t shirts ALSO used to be underwear, worn under a long sleeved shirt, which is why it was subversive when people started to wear them as anything else.) Last option is better than anything else though. Loose button down t shirt sort of things dress it up.

I would not wear it with a shoe I would not wear it howdy-do I would not wear it up or down I would not wear it in the town

I would not wear it anywhere I would just pull out my own hair

I would not wear it it's a sham I would not wear it Sam I am!!

(takes a bow) (vomits on own shoes)

Going to have to dig for ideas of the way it was done pre idk...pre-1940s? and in different countries pre-westernization (that had hot weather and accommodated for it, so, not long leg coverings)

Some moderate version of hippie-ass "harem pants" (not huge MC Hammer pants in other words), and anything that's in non-dressy, non-crisp linen looking fabrics, will probably work. But then you risk looking like a Yoga Fixes Everything sort of prick lol. I guess relying on the personality not being that way and people picking up on that.

All advice to make it more fashionable just suggests you dress like Richie Rich on a fucking yacht.

Then there's not damaging your skin. Which I care about for health, and yeah to be vain, anti aging. Sun hats (or worse, bucket hats or absolute worst of all, ballcaps) make you look like a tourist in your own city. Also another thing that women benefit so greatly from...summer hats for women look AMAZING, especially pairing it with a sundress. Still trying to figure out a masculine option...I've seen panama hats suggested, though that feels tourist ish still.

HATE the preppiness of white clothing. Khaki/beige even worse. And again the tourist vibes of putting it all together. Black is the hottest, temperature-wise, and having to part with it for summer... this_kills_the_man.jpg. Wearing a version in black really destroys any ultra preppy vibes when it comes to summer wear...I basically look like the Addams Family weirdo that I am with that. I break the rule whenever it's not literally just too sweltering.

I did it the summer before last and will probably do it again...those scarf-weight full-length beach-wrap sort of things that are basically kimono-like and can almost pass as a dress or semi-formalwear. I was closeted for that, but honestly I'll probably do it again in a genderfuck way and say to hell with it and what it does to passability. Idc. I like the look too much. But it's only possible sometimes to handle the dysphoria of actually physically wearing it. Even just in my own room. So. Balance.

Still always going to miss big floppy sun hats...and the way that they don't read as tourist immediately

Eventually going to just do a day or two here and there of full on womenswear, drag, for a summer look, i imagine. but concealing certain things would not be so easy by then so who knows.

Idk. I've sucked it up and dealt with hating the way that I look every summer for easily the past ten years. Function over happiness. That plus surviving my health conditions during the heat. I am so ready to do something more than just look and feel barely-tolerable this year. It's not even funny.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Any fics where one of the boys aren’t taking care of themselves/super busy or stressed and the other steps in to help or take care of themselves?

There's a lot on a03 hurt/comfort tag, including canon fics. We also have a great hurt/comfort tab. Here are a selection. ~Jen

Kind of Magic by @rockitman

Fives times Kurt was there to kiss it better

~~~~~

Sleep Tips for the Chronically Nocturnal by @rockItMan

Kurt can't sleep and Blaine takes that as a personal challenge

~~~~~

Blood and Fire by realmsoffreedom

He doesn’t always know what to say. Sometimes, he tries to string together what he thinks are the right words, the it’ll get better soons and the you aren’t your depressions, but he knows that they rarely help. Sometimes all he can do is sit here and hold Blaine, provide a warm body, a physical manifestation of all of those you’re not alones. If it means staying in bed all weekend, Kurt’s happy to do it. Just as long as it makes Blaine feel like someone is in his corner, even if he himself isn’t.

~~~~~

When you fall by notthetoothfairy

Kurt and Blaine meet at Elliott’s LGBTQ+ support group. Maybe Kurt is exactly the person Blaine needed to talk to about his past. And maybe Blaine can help Kurt get over his trust issues in return. Warnings: Characters talk about bullying, violence, non-supportive parents and death of parents (mostly canon occurrences). One-shot, prompted by anonymous on Tumblr.

~~~~~

Lovely, don’t you ever Change by orphan account

After the premiere of their first Broadway show, Kurt reads some comments online that resurface old insecurities.

~~~~~

The touch of your hand (says you'll catch me) by @cerriddwenluna

The smile on your face let's me know that you need me There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me The touch of your hand says you'll catch me if wherever I fall You say it best when you say nothing at all

~~~~~

Glory by Amberlovesocean

Kurt is assaulted after singing at a school dance and is left for dead, thrown aboard an empty train car at the railroad freight yard to hide the crime. He wakes up to find he’s been tossed off the car somewhere in an Oregon logging camp, 2500 miles from home. A curly-haired kid named Blaine finds Kurt and protects him by hiding him in his cabin and teaching him how to survive.

~~~~~

Hail To Whatever You Found in the Sunlight That Surrounds You by Water_Nix

On the third of August in Blaine Anderson’s ninth year, something momentous happens: he sees a boy crying on the beach and decides to do something about it. What he gets in return is a best friend, a confidant, an ally to help him through the ups and downs. They spend one month together every summer. One perfect month until they are old enough to escape together. Eleven Augusts and the letters in between.

~~~~~

Inevitable by mmerainbows

Kurt thought he had reached the point where he could forgive Blaine, and move on with his own life, keeping Blaine as his best friend and nothing more. However, when the truth comes out about what happened, Kurt returns to Blaine to help him. Trigger warning: rape

~~~~~

The Awakening by @heartsmadeofbooks

Kurt Hummel has put his perfect life together carefully, making sure all the pieces fit exactly how he wanted them to. But all it takes is one name from his past to make all his hard work go to waste - Blaine Anderson.

~~~~~

Coffee, black by @quizasvivamos

Moving through life in survival mode makes stopping to breathe feel like a fatal mistake. Eventually, emotions become alien, and it’s difficult to imagine the capability of ever feeling anything again.

And then one might find himself on a precipice, which is precisely where Blaine found himself: married, thirty, and standing at the edge of Lands End.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: I Just Need This

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Alternate Ending for “The Life We’ve Chosen”. 

Summary: Nikita is able to spare Ari a cruel fate thanks to clever planning. Now, she and her former adversary have a future to face – together. 

Author's Note: It's the first Nikari fic of 2025! And of course it's actually something I wrote months ago and has been sitting around waiting for me to edit it properly 😅 While this is yet another ret-con of Ari's fate in canon, it's potentially my favorite fix-it for the episode that broke my heart into a thousand pieces. I especially loved writing their first big kiss and the tender moments that they share. Hopefully those who love this pairing the way I do will appreciate the care taken with this. Enjoy!

On AO3

I Just Need This

                  She watched as the vehicle housing a wounded Amanda Collins took off into the night, rubber peeling across damp pavement in a discordant shriek. 

                  Nikita Mears inhaled in as evenly as she could, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, and cast a glance at the still body of Ari Tasarov. 

                  It was downright eerie how he managed the ruse – his eyes remaining open, his chest not moving at all in the effort to appear that he wasn’t breathing. It couldn’t have been easy after taking a bullet in the back, even with the protective gear that hid under the layers of his clothing. 

                  “I think the coast is clear,” she murmured, holstering the gun that she was still holding. “That was quite a performance.”

                  Her companion returned to life, uttering a soft groan before he sat up carefully and rotated his right shoulder. “Well, I did spend a few summers at a regional theater in my teens.”

                  “You just continue to surprise me, Tasarov,” Nikita chuckled wryly and then stood, extending out a hand to assist him. 

                  Gratefully, Ari took it and allowed her to haul him to his feet. “I merely played the part as you requested. Though…speaking of surprises, I have one for you.” He reached into the pocket of his overcoat and procured the Black Box that had caused them both no end of trouble.

                  Her eyes widened; in all the commotion she had not expected to come back from the mission with anything other than the former Gogol operative alive. “When did you –

                  “When her back was turned,” he shrugged, as if his life hadn’t been in mortal danger only moments ago. “I figured that I owed you something, given all the trouble that you’ve gone through.”

                  Her pulse quickened when his gaze caught hers, the relief at the ordeal being over visible in the stormy blue depths. 

                  She took a step forward. “I told you: I wasn’t leaving without you.”

                  “And you aren’t,” his voice, already lyrical and deep, seemed to drop another octave in a whisper. “Nikita, you’ve won.”

                  “A battle, not the war,” she corrected, peering up at him now that there was less space between them. “But with a decided advantage.”

                  He paused, becoming aware of their nearness. His handsome, angular features softened a fraction, and the corners of his soft-looking lips curved into a gentle smile. “Is that what I am?”

                  It was a valid inquiry. In the past few months, Ari’s role in her life had shifted drastically. He had gone from worthy enemy to reluctant ally, and then eventually he’d become her friend. At least – that was how she had chosen to define it. The truth was that there had always been a spark of attraction between them, even in their days on opposite sides of the board. Now that he was firmly on hers, it begged the question: what could they be to each other?

                  A swirl of butterflies fluttered around in her stomach. She was suddenly consumed with the urge to touch the man before her and assure herself that he was indeed real flesh and blood beneath her hands. 

                  “You’re arguably much more,” she muttered before tugging a glove off and giving in to the temptation. Cautiously, she placed her hand against his cheek, privately noting that his skin was far softer than she expected, and quite warm. 

                  A quizzical look crossed his features, but he said nothing while she took the time to explore. Her fingers swept over the slant of an angular cheekbone, then dipped lower to caress lightly along the slope of his jaw. 

                  “What are you doing?” he finally asked, his hand catching her own to still the movement. 

                  “Reminding myself that rescuing you was worth it,” she confessed, her gaze locking with his. “That you’re really here. Alive.” Boldly, she brought her other hand up in order to rest it against the hollow of his throat, revealed by the now partially undone collar of his shirt. His Adam’s Apple bobbed under the splay of her fingers, and her own pulse thrummed when she tentatively stroked at a triangle of bare skin, dusted with soft hair, that was visible. 

                  It was difficult to tell who initiated the kiss, whether it was her fingers curling into the crisp white fabric covering his chest to tug him forward or if he was the one that trapped her between the wall behind them and his taller, lean frame. All that mattered was that his mouth was upon hers, and years of tension were finally allowed to give way to the passion that was bound to erupt eventually. 

                  It began innocently enough, the pair easing into the embrace, a pleased sound emerging from Nikita when Ari nipped teasingly at her lower lip before gathering her closer. 

                  She wrapped her arms around his neck, tipping her head back when his mouth briefly strayed to dart light, feathery kisses along the slender column of her throat, coasting up to linger at a spot right below her ear that was particularly sensitive. 

                  The effect was instantaneous: a provocative hiss escaping from her when he pulled back. There was a knowing smirk and a flash of approval in his eyes when she bucked her hips by instinct. 

                  They lunged in unison, meeting in a far more sensual embrace, arousal swiftly clouding her senses. Suddenly the layers of clothing to protect her from the cool weather felt heavy and suffocating. Warm, tight heat pooled directly at her core and goosebumps pebbled along her flesh. She moaned when he nudged a knee between her legs, and she felt the evidence of desire that proved he was affected in the same manner. 

                  Breathless, she parted from the kiss to frame his face with her hands. In a way, it was as if she was seeing him, truly, for the first time – no longer an adversary, but someone infinitely dearer to her. 

                  He rested his forehead against hers and exhaled. “I’d ask what brought that about, but I think we both know the answer.”

                  In spite of how difficult it was to regain her composure, Nikita chuckled. “Bad timing?”

                  “No, just slightly inopportune. The kill chip in the back of the neck arguably ruins the mood somewhat,” he nuzzled her, and though reality had taken hold again, she could see the pure affection swimming in his eyes when he gazed down at her. 

                  “I picked up some supplies to take care of that; we just need some place where I can do so safely.” She plucked at a loose button on his top. 

                  “I hope a numbing agent is amongst those,” he made little effort to let her go, content instead to stand there and drop sweet, loving kisses to wherever he saw fit: her forehead, the bridge of her nose, even the curve of her jaw. 

                  “As long as you’re not allergic to Novocain, because that’s all I could find.”

                  He laughed richly. “Don’t tell me you raided a dentist’s office?”

                  “Desperate times,” she relaxed, tracing a pattern along the edge of the Kevlar that peeked out from under his shirt. “I’ll be as quick as I can about it.”

                  “I can withstand more pain than you’d imagine,” he shrugged, though he reassured her by rubbing a calming pattern along her back. 

                  They fell into another embrace while they reveled in their newfound trust, certain that whatever they had to face in the future – it would be together. 

                  When Owen Elliot returned, it was obvious that he noticed the shift in Nikita and Ari’s relationship – yet he said nothing other than to suggest that they all find a place to rest for the evening. 

                  The couple hastily agreed, though they neglected to mention the real motive for being so amenable; namely: that they wished to finally be alone. 

                  Their ultimate destination ended up being a little road-side motel. While it was not the most glamorous of options, everyone admitted that they had stayed in worse.

                  After booking two rooms, Owen deposited a card key in Nikita’s hand and did little to hide the smirk on his face when he directed her to “have fun.”

                  She couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she swiveled to face Ari and gestured for him to follow her. 

                  The room that they were to share was located on the upper level, and a decided weariness was evident in Ari’s footfalls as he accompanied Nikita on the stairs.

                  She pursed her lips in worry. “If all you want to do is grab a shower and then fall into bed, I completely understand.”

                  “A shower sounds heavenly, but I imagine you’d like to get the explosive out of my neck first, and frankly – I would prefer to be rid of the damn thing.”

                  “I’ll definitely breathe a little easier knowing it’s no longer an issue,” she admitted, pausing in front of the correct door and utilizing the card to let him inside. “Take off your jacket and shirt, I’ll go get some ice.”

                  His response was a grateful nod, and she hurried down to the end of the corridor so she could grab the last supply that she needed. 

                  When she returned to the room, Ari was struggling with the bullet-proof vest that had been concealed under his clothing. 

                  “Is there some kind of trick to this?” he grumbled, fumbling with a clasp. 

                  She set the bucket of ice on the nightstand by the bed and crossed over to assist him. “Here, let me.”

                  Carefully, she undid each buckle, her pulse jumping as removing the garment so slowly revealed more and more of his sculpted upper body. He was not overly muscular, but the surprisingly athletic tone that defined his torso suited him rather perfectly. 

                  He rotated his shoulders when she parted the vest and then slid it off, her gaze raking appraisingly over his chest and abdomen. 

                  His hands came up to weave into her hair before his mouth descended on hers, initiating an appreciative kiss that swiftly turned more passionate the longer that it went on. 

                  She grasped at his biceps and dragged him back with her, towards the bed, the pair meeting repeatedly in heated kisses until Nikita playfully shoved him down onto the mattress and then instructed for him to lie on his stomach. 

                  She grabbed an ice cube to numb the area before she could apply the anesthetic. “It’s probably going to be a strange sensation, but this should make it less painful.”

                  “This is arguably the weirdest thing I’ve done in a foreign motel room,” he quipped, and she had to applaud his good humor in spite of all else. 

                  Very cautiously, she straddled his back so she could work, avoiding the bruised area from where the bullet had hit. “I can give you something for that too if you like.”

                  “I have a feeling I won’t be sleeping normally for a few days,” she admired the flex of muscle in his shoulders when he shrugged, risking a quick look back at her with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. “That being said, I won’t mind the company.”

                  “Flirt,” she injected the numbing agent and settled on her haunches to wait. “Tell me when you feel it working.”

                  True to the promise she had made earlier, Nikita was adept and swift in removing the kill chip. She cleaned and bandaged the area and then patted at his arm to alert him that the job was done. “You’re all set.”

                  “Barely felt a thing,” he shifted, stretching lazily against the sheets. 

                  She got up so that he could move, her heart skipping a beat when he leaned on one elbow, observing her intently before standing with more grace than she would have been capable of in his position. 

                  Her heart began to thunder when he moved close, his skilled fingers reaching out to travel slowly across her cheek. 

                  “I thought you were planning to take a bath,” she shivered, not from a chill but thanks to how his proximity made her senses swim. 

                  “I am. You’re going to join me,” he dipped his head to capture her lips in a grateful, fervent kiss. 

                  She did not hesitate in returning the embrace, gasping against his mouth when his hands slipped under the edge of her sweater to push the thick fabric upwards. 

                  She lifted her arms so the garment could be whisked over her head, and it was followed shortly by the tee shirt that she had on underneath. 

                  Her jeans hit the floor right after, along with his slacks, then he was scooping her up and carrying her the short distance to the bathroom. 

                  Blindly, he flicked on the light and set her down on the tile countertop so he could start up the shower. She bit back a low moan when she felt the cool texture through the thin lace that still covered her modestly. The juxtaposition against her warmer flesh became nearly unbearable, and her arousal was compounded when he turned back towards her and fixated a look that could only be described as extremely appreciative in her direction.

Determined to propel things forward, she cast aside her bra and underwear in quick succession, leaving herself entirely exposed to his gaze. 

                  Sensing her haste, he finished undressing and then bridged the remaining space between them, capturing her lips with his while he hoisted her up again in order to cart her over to the shower. 

                  The curtain was shoved back and the water temperature adjusted quickly so that they could turn their attention back to each other as the warm spray rained over their bare skin.

                  Nikita cried out sharply when Ari pushed her against the wall and joined them together with little warning, though given the urgency she had displayed earlier she wasn’t exactly surprised that he did so. 

                  “Forgive me,” he ducked an apologetic kiss to her jawline. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

                  She grasped at his shoulders for purchase, locking their gazes together while she wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring them. “You can make it up to me later. I need this too.”

                  It was all the encouragement he needed – setting them off with an easy rocking motion so they could find their symmetry. 

                  A pleasant rhythm was reached within moments, Nikita canting her hips in time with his, glad that the rush of the water was muffling their activities from the other motel occupants. 

                  She clawed down Ari’s back when he altered his angle and buried deeper. He fit so perfectly that the world seemed to shatter around them.

                  They met in an ardent embrace, their movements turning frantic as they gave in fully to their desire.

                  No one had ever brought her to completion so rapidly before, her pulse erratic as she crested on waves of bliss, shouted his name, and then clutched tightly to his arms. Seconds after, he arced his head back and uttered what had to be the sexiest sound she had ever heard. 

                  He rested his forehead against hers as the last vestiges of their shared release pulsed through their still joined bodies. She held him as close as possible, peppering the hollow of his throat with loving kisses as a way of conveying without words how much she adored him. 

                  Though they were both still trembling, he set her as gingerly as possible on her feet, keeping his arms circled around her so they could recover from the onslaught and not keel over in the process.

                  Nikita couldn’t help a groan of disappointment when Ari finally suggested that they actually bathe properly. However: given that his next action was to gather her flush against him and kiss her again, she knew that it would only be a matter of when before they were able to indulge in their passion once more. 

                  The evening wore on as they made love multiple times, thoroughly exploring and worshipping each other’s bodies until the minor injuries Ari had sustained finally took their toll. 

                  Nikita was quick to get him some painkillers and water and then curled into his waiting arms beneath the covers of the bed that they now shared. 

                  She sighed, stroking a pattern through the damp hair plastered against his chest while roaming her eyes over him appreciatively as he lay on his side. “I probably should have gone a little easier on you that last round.”

                  He chuckled and shook his head. “Then you wouldn’t be who you are, Nikita.”

                  Oh, but she loved the way he drew out the syllables of her name, not to mention everything else about him. 

                  He looked as rumpled as the bedding, with mussed dark hair that was falling rakishly over his forehead and bite marks visible on his naturally pale skin. 

                  What was most alluring, however, was the peaceful expression on his attractive face, a look that could only be described as scorchingly romantic directed at her when he leaned in for a nuzzle. 

                  Her pulse jumped. Ari was irrevocably hers now, and it filled her with a joy that she had long thought impossible.

                  “When you agreed to my plan…did you suspect that this was going to happen?” she slung a leg over his, noting that their bodies slotted together perfectly, which only served to increase the intimacy they shared. 

                  “No,” his touch ghosted over her hip, tracing along the phoenix tattoo that he had eagerly discovered a short time ago. “I would never be that bold, but I did hope. I’ve been in love with you for some time now.”

                  “I think a part of me recognized that,” she replied, nimbly stretching before dropping a kiss to his shoulder.

                  “When, if I may ask?” he cupped her chin, tilting it back so their eyes could meet.

                  “It was actually a couple of times. The first was when we had that conversation the other night, but I think it really struck home when I told you that I wasn’t going to leave you. There was a look on your face after that I’d never seen before, and something clicked.”

                  She was treated to a nearly identical expression to the one she had failed to accurately describe – understanding reflected in his luminous gaze right before he took her breath away with a sound kiss, reclining her into the pillows so he could devote himself to her yet again. 

                  It was easy to oblige. 

The End 

[fimproda]

Elucien Week 2024 - Day 7: Tension/Healing

Read Splendor Solis on AO3

You little foxes at @elucienweekofficial knew exactly what you were doing when you chose to celebrate Elucien in the summer. And in the same week as my birthday, no less.

It seems fit, then, that I was able to overcome my almost one-year-long slump by writing an Elucien OS set in the Day Court.

For anyone who should stumble upon this post before reading Splendor Solis, stop now and open AO3, then come back here; I'll include a link in the end notes.

To those of you who have already read it, please hit the button that will show you the entire post and let me yap a little about what this story means and how it relates to Under the Stars.

First things first: the title. Splendor Solis literally means "The Splendor of the Sun" and refers to an omonymous alchemical text from the 16th century. I found out about it when I was researching the title of my upcoming Elucien longfic, which I eventually named Sol niger, "black sun". Since Splendor Solis is an illuminated manuscript, there's a handy little image of the black sun that suits this whole vibe just fine:

And also, you know, Day Court = sun. It's as simple as that.

Another Latin name in the story is Stella Maris, which is an epithet attributed to the Virgin Mary and means "Star of the Sea", referring to Her protection over fisherman and sailors.

(I'm pretty sure the church near the beach I'm writing this post from is dedicated to Maria Stella Maris, but I'm too lazy to check.)

In my fanon, Stella Maris is the name of the High Lord's palace in the capital of the Day Court. More on this in Sol niger — which, to be honest, could be said about the whole story.

Speaking of which, the reason why Lucien and Elain have a dog named Astra (derived from aster, "star" in Ancient Greek) will also be explained in Sol niger, as well as why Elain and Lucien had to go to the Day Court and how Eris finally came to be High Lord of Autumn.

Laoise — an Irish name pronounced "Lee-sha" — is, of course, the Lady of the Autumn Court. I chose Irish names for every unnamed Vanserra, since the Autumn Court is Irish/English-coded in my mind. Don't ask me why.

Splendor Solis is set, more or less, a decade after the events narrated in Sol niger. This timeline has allowed me to write about Elain and Lucien as an established couple, who have already overcome any and all major obstacles in their relationship and have, in one word, healed. Therefore, I think it's a fitting story for Day 7 of Elucien Week, even if it's more an introspective/worldbuilding piece more than something centered on Elucien themselves.

I put together every post I made about Sol niger under this link, if you're curious and would like to know more; I already had many occasion to talk about the Mediterranean elements (especially Italian, since I'm Italian myself) I decided to include in the story and use as basis for my worldbuilding.

Thank you so much for reading thus far! I'd love to hear your thoughts about all this 🥰

[bonesxbows]

The Lonely Wolf That Stalks (Connor x Reader)

My Masterlist

was written for a school writing class, beauty & the beast mashed together with princess and the frog, except its you and Connor, and there are no princesses or princes

(WARNINGS) - one and a half slightly detailed animal attacks - minor blood

not very canonical, this was something I had to write for school but figured I'd still publish it here. Connor's name is never mentioned, neither is your own, but trust me it was written with him very much in mind.

if you do like this, please leave reblogs and perhaps a comment! they're very much appreciated!

Banners by @strangergraphics

Throughout the colonies the war pushed on, the patriots growing restless and the redcoats growing impatient with every passing day, but out of the reaches of the war were the things that no battle or bloodshed could change. The stories that the people told their children, and who they, in turn, told to their children. Such stories were aplenty out in the tribes that dotted the land that the patriots or the British had yet to claim, but some trickled into the colonies through way of travelers and traders. And even though the war grew tenser with each passing day, one such story never seemed to change. The story of the lone black wolf.

Within Boston lived one person, around the age of twenty, who had heard of the story of the black wolf. They were a unique one, though, for when most heard the story they knew that it was just a tale, but they believed it to be of the truth. A black wolf did stalk the woods between the border of New York and Massachusetts, they claimed, with fur as black as coal and eyes that glowed like pieces of amber, just like the wolf in the story.

Most knew better than to believe in stories that came from the native tribes, most wanted the tribes to be dealt with anyways, but they were different. They would run around Boston, while doing whatever needed to be done that day, telling anyone who would listen about the black wolf that they knew was out there, until one day, a man, a stranger, had said something to them.

“If you so believe this wolf is out there, then why don't you go try and find him then? Go break his curse and quit bothering the town with this nonsense.” the man had said. They had every right to be angry with him, wanted to yell at him, tell him that it wasn't nonsense. But instead, they did exactly what he had suggested. If no one else would believe the story as they did, if no one else would brave the wildlife to find this wolf and free him from the curse that had turned him into such a creature, then they would. Within a few days, they were on horseback, heading out into the wilderness to find this lone black wolf. 

They hadn’t been on their horse for more than a day since they left, but already the forest seemed confusing. Nothing but a sea of dark green and brown flooded their surroundings. They could hear river water lapping over rocks nearby, but where that river led they had no idea. They were lost. Their best bet, they thought, was to head for the river. They had no clue where the river led, but surely it eventually had to empty back into a town. Perhaps they could find the wolf before they made it that far. The river was a cold blessing in the summer heat and they jumped off of their horse to stoop down into the water. They splashed some of the refreshing liquid onto their face when they heard a twig break in the forest across the stream of water. They looked up just in time to be met with a bear emerging from the tree line. It was a huge black bear, easily four times the size of them, and the sight made them freeze. They did not move, they were even unknowingly holding their breath in, but the bear still caught sight of them. Its beady black eyes locked with their’s and it growled as it stood up on its hind legs, doubling its size.

But then, there was a howl. A long, deep, threatening howl. Across the water, upon an outcropping of rock, stood a wolf. A wolf with dark black fur and eyes that shined like jewels in the overhead sun. The bear fell back down onto all four paws as the wolf stared at him. They felt like the staring contest between the two animals dragged on for hours until the bear finally decided to head back into the woods it had come from before. They watched as it trodded back through the trees, disappearing from view. But when they looked back at the rocks to find the wolf again, it was gone. They had seen it! It was real! But now it was nowhere to be found.

They didn't know what to do. The wolf had been right there in front of them, and now it had disappeared. Their heart was racing. So they threw caution to the wind and took off after it, not caring about the bear, or how cold the water was against their feet, or even about their horse who neighed and stomped as they left it behind on the other side of the water. They ran, making a beeline for the base of the rocky cliff where they had last seen the wolf, and taking off into the woods.

“Wait!” they called out as they ran, hoping the wolf would hear them. They heard a growl from within the mess of trees and skidded to a halt, trying to catch their breath as they looked around. Two eyes glowed from beyond the shadows of the trees, but they could feel that something was wrong. As the wolf stepped closer to them, they could see that its eyes were black, not gold, and its fur was grey, not dark black. Their yelling had grabbed the attention of the wrong wolf.

They tried to slow their ragged breathing, tried not to let the wolf see how scared they were, but it was circling closer, and the snarl it wore made the hairs on the back of their neck stick up. It barked and growled, and they were sure it was going to jump them soon. They took a step back, and the wolf lunged at them, claws out, teeth gnarled. They pulled their arms up to cover their face, fully expecting to feel the sting of teeth sinking into their skin at any moment.

But the pain never came. Instead, there was another growl, and then a whimper, and then there was no noise at all. They lowered their arms to see what had happened, and near their feet lay the grey wolf, eyes glistening over and neck bloodied. In front of them stood a shadow of a creature; the black wolf. The blood that stained his teeth and snout explained what had happened.

They dropped to their knees, letting the adrenaline wear off. The black wolf inched closer, stepping around the corpse of the other wolf. Both of them kept their eyes locked with one another until they were just a few inches apart. They outstretched their hand, letting the wolf sniff it before they reached up to pet the top of his head. He let them do so, melting into their touch.

The two of them stayed there on the forest floor until night had fallen. Now that they had found him, they were not going to lose him again. But as the night crept onwards the air became chilly, and the light coat they had on did nothing to stave off the cold. So when they began to shiver the black wolf inched closer and laid down. He allowed them to lay down next to him and bury their face in his fur, never once snapping or growling at them. It wasn’t much warmth, but it was enough to fight back the chill, and they quietly thanked the wolf, softly kissing his head while petting his fur, as they drifted off into sleep.

They awoke to sunlight splashing on their face, the sound of birds and forest creatures could be heard. What was most surprising though, was the nearby sound of someone breathing. They remembered the black wolf they had fallen asleep next to, but this breathing sounded human, and not at all like an animal. When they opened their eyes they were not met with black fur, but instead, dark copper skin. In place of where the black wolf had been the night before lay a native man, with long black hair pulled into a bun. His clothes looked strangely colonial, however. They held back their shock and instead wiggled out of the grasp of the man and sat up on the grass. The man opened his eyes when they moved, and they immediately noticed how they gleamed like gold. He sat up and the two of them stared at each other, a dusting of pink covering their faces.

“So the curse was broken with a kiss then?” they said, breaking the staring contest and the deafening silence.

“Yes...a true love’s kiss.” the man replied. His voice was calming.

“I see...” they mumbled, pleasantly surprised with the news.

“How did you know where to find me?” he asked.

“Honestly? I didn’t. But I believed in the story when no one else would, so I just knew I had to find you. No matter what it took.” they explained.

He nodded. “Thank you. For not giving up,” he said, and then picked himself up off the ground, extending his hand to them. They took it and he whisked them up off the grass. The two of them locked hands and walked off into the forest, together.