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captain-joongz · 4 months ago

Text

Deserve you

Pairing: brother-in-law!Seonghwa x f!reader

Genre: smut, darker themes, it's a little angsty

Summary: Marrying into the Park family was already a curse in on itself, but the cherry on top comes when on your wedding night the clock strucks midnight and there's the wrong brother knocking on your honeymoon suite door. But being a mindless pawn in his game of revenge might not be the worst when he buys it out with pleasure beyond your comprehension.

Word count: 18.5k words

Warnings: unhealthy family dynamics, arranged/forced marriage, infidelity, Hwa is mean and manipulative, themes of revenge and resentment, humiliation and praise, very rough handling and manhandling, spanking, rough sex, blink and you might miss it choking, oral (f. rec.), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, pussy drunk hwa, unprotected sex, doggy, creampie, some breeding kink (would it even be my fic if there wasn't lol), squirting, biting and marking (another one of my staples), a tiny bit of body worship

A/N: it's only going to be 13k i said *insert clown emoji here* enjoy cause good half of this is pure porn lol, i wrote the smut scenes at like 3 am while i was ovulating and therefore i legally cannot be held responsible for anything inside. please do enjoy!! if you wanna, leave comments and reblog, i always love to see what you guys have to say! i recommend listening to lurk by the neighbourhood, that's what i was listening to while writing this

Annoyed, I looked over the decorated hall to where my groom was amusing himself with a bunch of his goons. Their boorish laughs carried through the five-star hotel’s restaurant and could be heard over the hum of conversation from all four corners of the spacious room. I watched, completely unimpressed, as they took another shot together, every other one holding a half empty bottle of some kind of liquor in their hands. Rum, whiskey, vodka, all the colours of the rainbow.

My attention was pulled away by yet another very uncaring, but still unnecessarily cordial congratulatory small-talk from some relative who I’ve either never met before, or it has been so long their face blended into all the other hundreds of people who claimed blood-relation to our family.

While pretending to listen to their sugary fake speech and distractedly shaking their hands, my eyes flitted over to the close family table. I couldn’t help the trace of cold rage and hostility that crept into my gaze as it landed on my father, who leisurely sat at the table pushing around some greens on his plate while holding an amicable conversation with Mr. Park, my so very enchanting and charming father-in-law. My mother sat expressionlessly next to him, ever the picture of a perfect wife, here or there entertaining some pointless chit-chat from Mrs. Park.

With disgust I watched these four interact with each other, the realisation that this is where I was headed as well slowly sinking in and making me sick to my stomach. I excused myself from the circle of insincere inquisitors and went to sit down at the head table, pretending to eat to gather my strength.

When four months ago it was announced to me that I would be marrying into the Park family, a shocked disbelief quickly melted into an absolute rage. Even knowing that we were a very high-profile family, generations upon generations of wealth and a steady successful conglomerate of companies keeping us near the very top of the food chain of the upper class, it would have never crossed my mind my father would actually sell me off like a milk cow.

Yes, arranged marriage was still very much a thing between these families, profit and merging of riches far more important than such a silly little thing like love, but I always made it clear to my father I didn’t agree with such practice, and I would like to choose my husband myself. There was an unspoken agreement between us that he would leave me free reign and I would decide between the sons of the families that were on our level and suitable for marriage.

And Parks were nowhere near my radar. Although there were two sons in the family, only one was eligible for marriage and he would be the sole heir of most of their father’s empire. That made him a favourite in my father’s eyes, but all the women around these circles knew to give him a wide berth. Notoriously known for his unpleasant character, spoiled behaviour and stupidness, no self-respecting woman would ever touch him with a two-foot pole.

And now I was married to him.

Of course I opposed the marriage. I cried and begged and raged, I bargained and threatened, but nothing swayed my father. He had already made a good deal and now all he had to do was threaten me that if I didn’t listen, he’d make sure I was cut off not only from the family, the family wealth, but also every respectable company in the city. No matter how many times I told him ‘anyone but the Park’, he’d never listen. Papers were signed, deal was made. I was sold. All that was left was coming to terms with the situation.

The Parks, while they kept their respectable front, were a family that rose to the level of the likes of my father very rapidly and somewhat recently. It was an open secret that most of their business happened in the illegal little dark corners hidden behind a few presentable companies, but what mattered the most was their money and influence. Even though there were a few skeletons in their closet.

Like the one that suddenly made eye contact with me from the close relatives table while I was pretending to enjoy the worst day of my life.

The eldest son of the Park family, Park Seonghwa.

Mr. Park, much like his younger son Yujun, also known as my amazing husband, was known for his unlikable character and somewhat unscrupulous ways and manners. Or lack-there-of. Before even officially meeting him at some boring dinner, I had already heard the mountains upon mountains of rumours about his womanising and misogynistic ways.

Therefore it wasn’t a great surprise when just five years ago a boy showed up on his doorstep, determined to claim a corner of his ever so elusive father’s paradise. Seonghwa was older than Yujun, but due to him being a bastard of a poor maid that once upon time was harassed by the master of the house into giving into him, even though he managed to weasel his way into Mr. Park’s graces he still wasn’t considered a good face of the empire, and so Yujun remained the main heir, with his older half-brother as his glorified henchman.

Back then, even though I wasn’t 18 yet, I was also privy to all the drama that went down with Seonghwa’s sudden appearance. Perhaps eager to please his father and buy his approval, he managed to beg a broken-down old hotel out of him and set to his path of a lonely businessman always chasing some old man’s praise.

That hotel? The same one we were sitting in today. Seonghwa proved to be a formidable force in the business sphere and managed to bring this place from the bottom of the barrel and turn it into one of the best establishments in the whole country. He has since bought a several restaurants and another hotel, skyrocketing into those same circles that looked down upon him still. Including his family. Especially since everyone knew Yujun was a useless fool that would no doubt tank his father’s business the moment he got his hands on it, which made Parks the laughingstock of the rich and the bored.

During the four months I spent tagging along with our mothers and a wedding planner, trying to put together a last-minute grandiose event for half the city, I saw a lot of him. He always hung around the Park residence or the various lounges we chose to sit and chat in (which I later realised was because he owned them). When he graciously offered to host the banquet in his hotel, I was grateful to him but held no other regard to his actions.

But there seemed to be a strange connection between us. Maybe it was that I saw the same resentment reflected in his eyes when he looked at his own father, or maybe because he seemed to be the only other self-aware person here. We never spoke much, but sometimes we would catch each other’s eyes and see the same emotion in them.

In present time, I finally managed to tear my gaze away from his intense one, seemingly trying to burn through me with a single glance. In truth, I was a bit unsettled by him. Not matter how human he tried to appear, there seemed to be a dark aura around him and sometimes this strange feeling possessed me, as if I was on the cusp of getting devoured by a dangerous beast. His eyes, while part compassionate, also held this underlying viciousness, like they were trying to bait me into trusting them. And I didn’t. The more the wedding approached, the more I saw some kind of depraved excitement in them, only heightening this unsettlement that dwelled in my bones every time I came across him.

So thus I pissed away the evening. I tried to dodge as many guests as possible, keeping the conversation short and sweet, always finding an excuse why I had to move on, while giving a wide berth to the family table lest I get entangled in whatever was going on there and steadily growing more and more irritated by my new husband’s behaviour. He was nearing a dangerous level of intoxication and we still had at least two or three hours of entertaining everyone present in front of us. Well, at least I did. Yujun seemed to be quite happy wreaking havoc with his buddies and leaving me to do all the work. That is most definitely going to be a staple of our marriage.

I sighed and reached for a fresh flute of champagne. I didn’t even like champagne, but this day was driving me fucking insane.

“Darling,” my mother’s voice startled me enough to lightly choke on the drink and attempt to hide the flute like I was a naughty schoolkid sneaking snacks, “it is getting quite late. You might want to talk with your husband about retreating for your wedding night soon.” I looked at her, sizing up her perfectly schooled elegant face, her slender frame draped in expensive designer clothes and sighed again.

“It’s only half past eight,” I argued back petulantly, “we still have time till around eleven.” No matter what, I just wanted to avoid talking to Yujun, especially when he was this wasted and surrounded by similar idiots. My mother’s expression spoke of quiet reprimand. She only looked at me like that when she wanted to tell me I should know better.

“Most people are going to start leaving around ten, you know that,” she scolded me lightly and picked an invisible piece of dirt off of her sleeve, not even directing her full attention to me, “Stop stalling and go talk to your husband.” With that she was done, already turning and walking away before I could even open my mouth.

I pursed my mouth to keep the expletives from falling all out loud enough to embarrass her for 10 years in advance. Just aimlessly standing around, I threw back the rest of the champagne in the flute, chugging it in two big gulps, before slamming it down on the table perhaps a little too hard and startling a poor waiter just trying to clean up the buffet table. Steeling myself, I looked determined back into the direction of the rowdy table, but my feet stayed stubbornly glued to the ground.

“I can go talk to him, if you want,” the mellow voice came from my left and this time it startled me enough to jump. His big dark eyes crinkled in amusement, lips curling gently in a pleased smile. Park Seonghwa annoyingly looked absolutely stunning in his fitted three-piece suit and long dark hair carefully swept in curls out of his face, a tiny half bun sitting at the back of his head.

I regarded him coldly, trying to keep my distance from a man that felt too dangerous to be this close to. I didn’t even realise he had moved to the table, had no idea how long he has been standing there watching me. Even now, he patiently waited for my answer with his eyes eagerly taking me in, causing goosebumps to erupt on my naked arms.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you discussing my wedding night with your brother,” I fired back when my brain finally jumped back online, and I no longer just stared at the tall slim man and his deceptive gentleness.

He smiled lightly, really it was just a quirk of one corner of his mouth, and shifted a little closer.

“I’ll just tell him fun’s over in an hour and a half,” Seonghwa assured me in a manner that was maybe supposed to be calming, but only made the dark pools of his eyes even deeper. I didn’t step back, even when my body was begging me to put more distance between us, and stood my ground.

“I’m not sure the fun will be over for him no matter what you say,” I sighed and threw one more angry stare towards the drunkards, “He’s already too drunk to even get home and we still have more than an hour to go.” Seonghwa sidestepped and turned, and we stood there side by side, just watching the madness unfold.

“There’s a honeymoon suite prepared for you in the hotel,” the tall man supplied dryly, “all you have to do is get him into the elevator.” I hummed but couldn’t tear my eyes away from the embarrassing displays of drunkenness that were beginning to scare away nearby tables, the guests side-eyeing the young men and moving to leave while throwing disgusted glances around, more often than not sending them towards me as well. As if I wanted a husband like that, old lady.

Suddenly there was an arm gently coiled around my shoulders. Before I could react, Seonghwa squeezed gently twice and then moved towards them with a cheeky wink.

“I’ll tell him, don’t worry,” he told me while walking backwards away from where we stood, “and once you get him into the honeymoon suite, you can just dump him there and go sleep next door.”

I didn’t react in any way, only sending him an unimpressed look and then watched as he walked briskly the rest of the way and slowly inserted himself into the mayhem of the groomsmen. Immediately his face completely shut off, putting on a fake pleasant expression, but none of the men seemed to notice. I watched as Yujun got up and drunkenly stumbled until he was half hugging Seonghwa, hanging off of him and laughing loudly. From Seonghwa’s expression I could only guess whatever the joke was, he must have been the butt of it, but he took it well, years of practiced patience taking over his body. He said something to Yujun and I could see his eyes darting to me before his face was split by the grossest sleaziest grin known to man. I couldn’t stop the full body shudder that went through me, and honestly, I didn’t even try. The groomsmen all started whistling and shouting obscenities, pouring more shots and patting Yujun on his back while he cackled like a madman. Seonghwa then proceeded to say something more which elicited even more hollering and back pats, now even to him to his incredible discomfort.

He then withdrew from the situation just as slowly and quietly as he entered it, quickly walking back towards me. I hated the pity in his eyes, genuine or not, so instead I just grabbed another flute of champagne and grumbled into it while I sipped.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” he whispered and I avoided his gaze as hard as I could, instead staring off into the distance. “Whatever,” I grumbled back, trying to shake off the disgust that once again started to crawl back into my bones and stomach, making me sick with the thought of sharing a bed with that man.

Just then Seonghwa was called over by one of the servers gesturing wildly to the bar. He gave me one last apologetic glance and then ran off to deal with whatever mess that needed his immediate attention, leaving me to stand alone next to the champagne tower like the drinking wreck that I was quickly becoming. From the corner of my eye I saw my mother’s disapproving face, signalling me to step away from the alcohol and mingle more, smile more and look happy to have my life ruined by father’s business, but I ostentatiously ignored her until she alerted father of my unbecoming behaviour.

That quickly shook me into action, and with his stare burning into my back, I disposed of the empty glass and threw myself back into the madness.

The rest of the evening was a frenzy of overwhelming sensations and passed in a blur. I must have spoken to every guest that was invited, held so much small-talk I was beginning to lose my voice. I still avoided the two tables that held all of the people I didn’t want to interact with and rather I listened to some old aunt’s rants about how the modern generation of women just don’t want to be perfect housewives anymore and how they bring dishonour on their husbands.

Before I knew it, two hours have passed and I found myself stationed at the main entrance, shaking hands and exchanging goodbyes with everyone who was leaving, and waving at people that were staying in Seonghwa’s hotel.

The man himself was suspiciously scarce throughout the last hour of the party, his tall lean figure nowhere in sight, which made me surprisingly jumpy. There was a mounting feeling in me that something would happen, anxiety rising with every minute ticking by, but I thought it to be just a by-product of this whole clusterfuck of an evening and disregarded it.

My husband was also missing, probably still thrashing the bar in the lounge one room over, not even bothering to see his guests out.

Soullessly I watched everything happen, empty smile plastered on my face as I was pushed from side to side, listened to the same four meaningless sentences come out of the hundred mouths on faces that all blended together in my mind.

After they were ushered out, there was suddenly a flutter of action around me, people all speaking over one another, one telling me to go there and other telling me to stay here. I stayed silent and waited like a puppet for someone to move me where I was supposed to be. My emotions were shutting down one after another, too overloaded by everything and too scared to face head on what was about to take place.

Woodenly I let my mother drag me to the elevator, mumbling something about not worrying about my husband, father would get him, he would be here any minute, there was no reason to stress out, just relax and wait for him, it was as easy as that, after all we were a man and a woman, it was all perfectly natural. I nodded when there was a lull in her chatter to keep her none the wiser, agreed when I heard her intonation climb in a question.

Finally, the elevator climbed all the way up, reaching the quiet floor with a long hall that had only four doors on it, two of which were honeymoon suites. I felt more confused than ever, as if even my brain completely stopped working, but fortunately (or not) my mother seemed to know where to go.

The room was spacious inside, with a beautiful view of the night city, a whole comfortable lounge that already held a tray with more champagne and some appetizers. To one side I could see a sleek bathroom and to the other through an arch was visible a king-sized bed that dominated the space.

Mother sat me down on one of the sofas and I just distantly took notice of how soft and comfortable it was before she again launched into some sort of a monologue I wasn’t interested in. I amused myself by looking out the window, already nursing another flute of champagne, which was promptly yanked out of my hands.

“Are you trying to catch up with your husband?” my mother’s angry voice cut through the fog in my mind, but I was beyond caring what she had to say.

“I certainly cannot go through it completely sober,” I noted dryly with a sarcastic flare, snatching the flute back. That earned me a glare that could split a mountain in half, but I stubbornly, and somewhat childishly, refused to look at her.

“You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again after,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if she didn’t understand where the problem was, “it’s just sex.” A wave of rage and hatred raised in me so strongly that I had to hold myself back from either screaming or bursting into tears.

“Just leave already,” I said coldly instead, still not looking at her, but watching her figure in the reflection of the window. She froze, her arms stuttering a little in the middle of a movement, and I could clearly feel the disappointment in my behaviour radiating off of her. Then she straightened out and without a word walked towards the door.

“Your husband will get here shortly; I advise you to prepare yourself and meet him not completely hammered.” Her cold words rang through the silent room and then she was gone.

I simmered in that silence for a long few minutes, working to get my emotions back in check. In the end I just gave up on resisting this. There was no way out of this anyway. With a bit of luck Yujun was already so drunk he’d just take his clothes off and pass out and then I can tell him the next day how he was just a wonderful lover, how I enjoyed our time together so much.

So, I had one last glass and then started preparing myself mentally, steeling myself and pacing nervously around the room waiting for my husband to burst drunkenly through the door any minute now. I flinched with every sound, strained my ears to hear anything moving outside those doors.

Only… it never came. After 40 minutes of waiting, Yujun was still nowhere to be seen.

I was beyond irritated, checking the time every two minutes and still expecting the shoe to drop. The longer he took to get here, the drunker he’d be and the drunker he was, the more volatile and unpredictable he’d get. The irritation quickly rose to anger, my mood fluctuating between rage and fear and panic.

Once it was longer than an hour, I was just tired. The clock struck 23:45 and I sighed, completely drained and resigned. It became clear that he wouldn’t get here. At least not now.

Sitting down on the sofa, I felt all the stress trickle out of me as I completely decompressed. There was a sudden numb calm washing over me and I just wanted to be done with it, so drained I became completely detached from the world. I rose to finally fucking change out of the gown and promptly found out that now I faced a different kind of problem.

My dress had a lacing I couldn’t reach on my own. I needed help to get out of my dress. There was no one else on this floor and my parents were long gone, choosing to return to our home instead of sleeping in a hotel. My husband was god knows where and most probably in a state where he wouldn’t be able to take off his own pants.

I crumpled into the sofa, half groaning half screaming into my hands, the frustration of the whole situation, the whole day, the whole four fucking months weighing down on me enough to force a sob out of me. And then another, and then another, until I was bawling my eyes out in an empty honeymoon suite. For long moments I laid half draped over the settee crying, just getting all of my jumbled emotions out in the only outlet I had. Why did everything just have to go absolutely wrong?

It felt like whole centuries had passed when I seemed to run out of tears and finally managed to calm down again; and I looked around the room, playing with the thought of just cutting myself out of the dress with a knife or scissors, but quickly giving up on the idea with a despaired laugh falling out of me.

Everything hurt and I was exhausted, and I wanted to go to sleep, alone preferably, so instead I went into the bathroom and tried to salvage my makeup as much as possible. Thankfully bridal makeup seemed to be invincible, and I just had to tap at some smudged corners to get them dry again.

With that I set out of the room, determined to find anyone that could help me out of the dress, even if it was just some poor busboy trying to make it through nightshift. But I didn’t make it far.

I had just made two steps into the hall when the elevator suddenly dinged, and the door opened. For ten absolutely terrifying seconds I expected my husband to be the one stepping off of it, but instead a tall slender figure elegantly made its way towards me, hair still effortlessly falling around his face as if it was paid to do it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” flew out of my mouth before any reason kicked in, my brain too fried to concern itself with proper manners. Seonghwa only blinked at me in amusement, lips quirking up. Something was different about him and my alarms started going off, but I’d already gone through so much that day I barely even realised.

“Is there a reason why you’re roaming the halls like the ghost of Christmas past?” he shot back, coming close enough to lean and tower over me. His eyes peered down on me over the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking a lot less amused and a lot colder and domineering. I stuttered over my words, clocking in the change in his demeanour once I noticed the darkness swimming in those usually expressionless orbs.

“I- I need help getting out of my dress,” I whispered, too shocked to comprehend what was happening, the truth suddenly slipping out unwittingly, “I was looking for someone… Yujun hasn’t-“

Seonghwa’s dark chuckle interrupted me, it rumbled through his chest close enough I could almost feel it. I looked up at him questioningly. His grin was suddenly mocking and it threw me for a loop. All my instincts screamed at me to back away from such clear savagery shining through in his expression, but I felt completely frozen, half mesmerised half terrified.

“Yujun wouldn’t be able to untie his own shoes right now,” he said meanly, the resentment towards his family he so often hid away now out in the open, raw in his voice like a bleeding wound.

“Do you know where he is?” I decided to ignore his heated stare that seemed to be penetrating deep into my being and instead focused on my goal – locating my husband so I could kick his ass and then avoid him for the rest of the honeymoon.

But Seonghwa only smirked and curled an arm around my shoulders, pulling us towards the suite doors, clearly steering me to follow him inside.

“First, let’s help you with that dress, sweetheart,” his deepened voice almost purred somewhere close to my ear and it sent shivers through me, some kind of dark anticipation setting into the pit of my stomach.

Alarm bells were blaring loudly through my mind, but I just stared him completely stunned and let him drag me. Man, maybe I did overdo it with the champagne.

I looked at his face and fully took in just how ethereally beautiful he really was, the big dark eyes and full sensual lips on a slender face framed by glossy dark hair, he was a vision that an artist would die for just to catch a glimpse of. A face that could unleash wars and bring down empires, break the honour of gods, taint them and seduce them into immorality. Such a man he was. And I saw in his eyes that he would.

Before I could stutter out some sort of answer, he was already pulling us inside the door and shutting it behind us, the lock clicking with a startling finality. Suddenly I found myself standing panicked in the middle of the lounge with Seonghwa circling me like a shark, watching my form and the dreadful dress with dark hungry eyes. Even though my mouth hung slightly open as I still processed the current situation, nothing could come out of it, as if he took my voice with just a single touch.

“How terrible, chaining you poor thing into such a dress,” he whispered sensually, his voice caressing my skin like raven black feathers, “it must have been tiring, having it on the whole day…” He trailed off, a second of silence stretching between us and putting me on edge. Then, I could feel his fingers lightly dancing down the exposed back of my neck, until they hit the edge of the lacing. My breath hitched, getting caught deep in my throat at the sudden contact, and I shivered, eyes fighting the urge to roll back into my skull.

I blushed at my body’s visceral reaction. Either I had to be even more drunk than I initially thought, or the desperation clouded my judgement enough to actually allow my brother-in-law’s advances. Both options were terrible and unacceptable. Still, I felt rooted to the spot, unable to even lift and arm to swat his hands away, not even to turn and scold him with a glare, nothing. It was as if I was deep under a spell, his aura pressing me into inaction and sluggishness, my brain muddled and confused but vaguely excited.

Just as I took in a deep breath to break the fog away and started gathering a sufficient effort to move from him, he abruptly stepped closer, pressing his front against my back with his arm coiling around my waist like a strangler snake. Now all he had to do was squeeze the life out of me. His lips touched lightly on my exposed shoulder, and I could feel his breaths hitting the crook of my neck, a wave of goosebumps breaking in its wake.

“You shouldn’t act like this towards your brother’s wife,” I managed to get out of my dry throat, the words no more than a breathless whisper. There was a mocking scoff next to my ear and his arms coiled even tighter before releasing me all at once. I heaved a sigh of relief, not realising yet this was only the beginning of his game. Oh, he wasn’t anywhere near done.

I was spun quickly, two dexterous hands moulding me to his liking until I was facing him again. There was a terrible grin on his face and an absolute terror set into the pit of my stomach.

“I’m just trying to help you out of an uncomfortable situation,” Seonghwa lied smoothly, the words slipping out of his lips easily with faux concern. We both knew it was utter bullshit, but I still floundered in his arms, not knowing what to say or do, how to combat his searing mocking gaze.

His hands started moving again slowly, sliding tenderly down my arms and back up and then making their way to my back. Seonghwa pressed himself closer again, now front to front with my face awkwardly angled around his shoulder. Before I knew it, his arms looped around me and started tugging at the ribbon tying the corset part together while his face slowly lowered until he was gently mouthing at my shoulder.

I gasped, hands on instinct shooting up to grab something to stabilise myself. It ended up being the lapels of his suit jacket that hung between us. The tall man chuckled darkly, and I was caught in the strange in-between of his gentle touch and mean demeanour.

I felt my knees shaking, the tension rising to a point that my body could barely handle it. A whole-body shiver wrecked through me, the path his mouth made on my skin burning and sending shocks of pleasure through my nervous system that had dangerous heat starting to rear its head in my tummy.

Slowly, leisurely, his hands worked on the ribbon until it was flowing freely from the top and the first few knots were loosened. My heart was beating inside my ribcage so hard it felt as if it was hitting against the bones, and my chest tightened enough to make breathing hard for me. The silence suddenly stretched between us tensely and I wondered if the man could hear the wild beating in my chest, if to him it maybe felt like a scared bird fluttering in the palms of his hands.

Seonghwa lifted his head enough to turn me again, enough to let me see the self-satisfied smirk, and I went easily wherever he wanted me to go. My brain was screaming at me to do something, say something, but I could barely think over the dull buzz of nerves and dark thrumming of my boiling blood. My body yearned and I lost all control over it, turning into a pliant little doll in the hands of a terrible master. The temptation was just too strong, what he offered too sweet.

Words were bubbling in my throat, catching on the swallowed sighs and getting stuck in the constricted little space as I fought for every breath, but I knew they needed to spill over. I couldn’t go down without at least a little fight.

“Where…,” I started but it came out all scratchy and barely audible, “Where is my husband?” Seonghwa’s hands froze where they were unhurriedly playing with the ribbons and loosening them a millimetre after a millimetre to turn this into a torturous progress, to show me that I would let him play me like this for hours if he so pleased. Then he snickered.

“You’re still looking for him?” he asked with his lips pressed into the skin beneath my ear, “Aren’t I enough for you?” It was said as a tease, but I felt the sharp daggers of bitterness in his voice, like he was daring me to insinuate he was beneath his brother. “Aren’t I the better choice?” came out with a chuckle a moment later. Now, that was a taunt.

“Any moment he can get here and then I’ll get fucking murdered for your misdeeds,” I hissed back venomously even though I still haven’t made a single move to get some space between us. Seonghwa laughed condescendingly at me, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was sneering madly at my insistence to discuss the other man with him.

“He won’t be coming anytime soon, don’t you worry your pretty head darling,” he bit out with a mean laugh, “I know my brother and he can’t resist an open bar. It was only a matter of waiting until he drank himself into a coma. He won’t disturb us until the morning, and even if he wakes up during the night he won’t know up from down.” This time it was me who froze completely while Seonghwa’s fingers resumed their journey. Some terrible realisation dawned upon me, and I felt as if the rug was swept right from underneath my feet and I was freefalling, straight into these dangerous outstretched arms.

“You were planning this the whole time,” I whispered shakily, trembling in the man’s hands but ultimately, I was helpless to his games. I already knew I was fighting a losing bet, and in the end I would surrender to him.

This time Seonghwa outright laughed at me, making embarrassment sink into my gut and I shrunk into myself. I felt his fingers dig into the fabric of the white wedding dress. In the reflection of the window I saw him, shoulders shaking and mouth open with the laugh, eyes crinkled in a depraved kind of amusement. The sound cut through the empty silent room, strangely as melodic as much as it was savage. I watched him equal part with both horror and reverence, the dark atmosphere finally sinking through my skin and penetrating deep into my soul. In that moment I realised I had just walked into the tiger’s den and there was no way out.

Seonghwa finally calmed down and his eyes found mine in the reflection of the window almost instantly; they were full of contempt and I shuddered under his gaze, humiliation spreading through me at his sneering lips.

“Finally you’re catching up, darling,” he spit that word out like it was poison, and even though it was meant to caress it felt more like a slap, making me sharply inhale, “how could I let my spoiled little brother just walk into this without a little price.”

Suddenly his hands roughly grabbed at the ribbons and pulled hard, almost tearing the corset apart in his haste to finally rid me of it. I stumbled under the force and almost wished there was a wall or a window in front of me, so I could lean on it. My own hands were shaking, as were my pupils while I tried desperately to catch up with the situation. His beautiful face looked almost ethereal with this much wrath and hatred pulling it into a savage grimace, all burning eyes and bared teeth. In this light they almost looked sharp enough to tear flesh apart with a single bite.

“There’s a little compensation to be had, don’t you think darling?” he sneered some more, hands feverishly working to rid me of the oppressive clothing.

Then he used the ribbons tightly clutched in his hands to pull me closer again and our bodies collided harshly. This time I did gasp out loudly but before I could comprehend or react, his face was pressed to mine, our cheeks smushing together lightly while our eyes met again in the window. Pure deranged madness was swimming around his blown-out pupils and he flashed me a beastly savage grin.

“How do you think our little prince would like that I defiled his lovely wife before he even had the chance to get his hands on her?”

There was a sound of tearing fabric ringing through the room and I felt the dress give way, sliding down my arms and torso. In panic I quickly caught it to stop it from pooling around my ankles. But I might have as well let it be, because shortly Seonghwa’s arms circled around my waist and trapped both my hands and the dress under his grip.

Without wasting a single second, he pushed us together as close as we could go, moulding around my back and feverishly attacking my exposed neck and shoulders. Quick scolding hot wet kisses were laid one after another and I felt his hands squeeze at my waist as he licked and bit into my skin, rapidly moving up my neck to the edge of my jawline.

My mouth hung open a little wider with every swipe of his tongue, little breathy sighs and half moans flowing out freely. I was helpless coming face to face with such devastating passion and desperation, how could I protest anything when I heard Seonghwa’s satisfied groans muffled by my skin, when I felt his hands tearing at the dress and never letting me part even a single millimetre from him.

Desire and duty warred through my body, leaving me desperate and frustrated and unable to make a single move in whichever direction. I never wanted this marriage and I already despised Yujun. If I could, I would have since long walked away from this, from my father and his stern unloving face, from my mother and her constant reprimand and propriety, and most of all from my awful disgusting husband. Seonghwa was offering me the same thing he himself sought with this. Revenge. But I respected the vows and despised cheating, and my moral side was begging me to end this at once and remain faithful to a man I barely knew, barely even liked. The result of this was my torn silence and inaction, never taking part but never stopping it.

It was so wrong, but it felt so good I couldn’t do anything except for stand there and take it from the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

The confusing mix of emotions tore through me and left me all bloody and aching like an exposed nerve. My hands clenched and unclenched, eyes flitted around the room in panic, mouth opened and squeezed shut, the words always just at the tip of my tongue but never quite making it out while my brain quickly sunk deeper and deeper into lust.

Seonghwa’s eyes found mine in the reflection once again and slowly bled into a condescending pity. He licked a long stripe along my neck, tasting the salty sweat and purring in content, eyes just slightly rolling back. The sight made me weak, made my body thrum with feelings I haven’t felt in a long time, the excited tension manifesting in the dull throbbing in my lower tummy and the tingles running through me whole. I felt myself clenching at the display, and quickly pushed my thighs together to chase after the pleasure.

“You’re all up in your head, darling,” Seonghwa whispered, spinning sweet webs to catch me in, “Stop thinking, pretty. Just turn off your brain and let the sensations wash over you. Just go with the flow.” His dark eyes flew over my figure for one last time and then he was gripping my jaw roughly and jerking my head to the side to finally feast upon me like he wished.

He kissed like he was laying a claim on me, hard and heavy, tongue prying my mouth open immediately and swallowing the aborted little sounds I couldn’t stop from slipping out. It was filthy and wet and I felt as if he tried to devour me whole. I couldn’t even reciprocate fully, only stand there and take it, weakly moving my own tongue against his but I was quickly overpowered by him in every sense. Then it stopped just as quickly as it started.

I opened my eyes, blearily blinking and trying to get my unfocused gaze back into working order. I felt like I was underwater, like thick molasses was pulling me deeper into the sweetness. Meanwhile Seonghwa looked beyond delighted, lips permanently quirked up and showcasing his sharp canines.

Quick hands spun me around again, one arm immediately securing me against him while the other went to my face, caressing it with deceptive gentleness. Slowly he ducked his head down and kissed up and down the side of my neck and my shoulder, and this time around his lips were tender and reverent, like he didn’t turn into a beast just a few moments ago. My head was spinning from his constant flip-flopping between kind and cruel, but I submitted to him every time anyway.

“He doesn’t even deserve you, darling,” his sugary whispered words carried a little sting to them, but he still trickled them like honey straight to my awaiting throat and I happily drank it all, “He can’t value you as he should… He can’t fuck you like he should.” He growled the word into my throat, hands migrating to grab at my ass and press me up against his crotch, letting me feel the hardness of his arousal.

I gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, not even knowing whether I’m pushing him away or pulling him closer, but the result was the same. He kissed the same the second time around, plunging his tongue into my mouth and dominating it completely, not giving me a chance to do much else than sigh and moan filthily as he pried me open in every way.

The dress was slowly pulled down and I suddenly found myself exposed to his eyes, the white lacy wedding lingerie a contrast to my heated flushed skin. My first instinct was to hide myself away from him, shyness fighting to take control over me, but I stood still. Somehow to me it would have been more embarrassing if I cowered before him, so I faced his lust head on.

Seonghwa’s eyes hungrily took in every detail, every new inch of skin revealed, from the lacy top and the frilly ribbons in the middle, to the panties that barely hid anything and the wedding garter still firmly sitting on my thigh.

“God, look at you,” the man darkly groaned, eyes glued to my crotch, “You’d be wasted on such an idiot. You deserve so much more, darling, so much more.” On a whim I decided to gather some wit and push back a little, even though it might not be a great idea to provoke him right now.

I threaded my hand through his long locks and tugged hard, making him hiss loudly while his head jerked back. There way annoyance in his eyes, but even that couldn’t mask the sheer amount of arousal and lust reflected in them.

“And you think that you’re what I deserve?” I attempted to say coldly, but I couldn’t tell how successful I was at my delivery with my whole body shivering and succumbing to his touch already. His eyes narrowed and his face turned to stone, and I immediately wanted to take my taunt back. I did not feel anywhere near ready to have that kind of confrontation with him. I felt the fight drain out of me at the dangerous glint is his eyes, head instinctively ducking in shyness and submission.

Seonghwa must have sensed my surrender too, because his lips quickly turned into a cruel smirk and he laughed at me, hand going to lightly grab my throat. I waited with bated breaths, fear and anticipation bleeding together into an ugly kind of arousal, but I didn’t have it in me to feel much shame anymore.

The world suddenly spun around me and then I was crashing into the settee behind me with enough force to knock the breath out of me. I barely just gathered my wits back and Seonghwa was already kneeling in front of the sofa spreading my legs. His hands grabbed my hips and roughly manhandled me into the position he wanted, and once my legs were thrown over his shoulders, he wasted no time descending onto me.

He bit and kissed and licked his way down my inner thighs, the sensitive skin hurting and pinching with every nip, making me jerk and gasp in his hold to which he only chuckled coldly.

“Hold steady now, doll,” he said evenly, “I’m gonna eat your pussy until you’re cumming all over my face.” With that he smirked and dove in. His warning did nothing to stop my body jerking wildly the moment he licked a long bold stripe over the seat of the panties.

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up full of dark reprimand, sending a wave of goosebumps over me. I saw his arm rise and descend quickly, just barely managing to hold my breath as it harshly collided with the skin where my thigh met my ass. The smack carried through the room, as well as my loud whimper. Embarrassingly I felt a gush of slick hit my panties at the action, but I had no time to dwell on it when Seonghwa bit mercilessly into the inner part of my thigh before sliding back to my centre.

For a few long moments he amused himself by skirting around where I truly needed him to touch and instead paid attention to the edges of the panties or lightly licked and sucked through the drenched lacy fabric. My whole body thrummed with excitement, begging to be finally touched where it needed it the most, but I was too afraid to writhe around or push him, so I just lied there and whined loudly, not even caring anymore. There wasn’t even anyone else on this floor anyway.

I was so wet and aroused, my cunt pulsing knowing he was so close to touching where I needed him, my brain completely melted and unable to comprehend anything beyond the burning consuming need as I trembled under his teasing touches and licks.

Seonghwa’s eyes bore into me, just endless swirling pools of arousal and arrogance, watching me battle my body to listen to his instructions and slowly falling apart before he even did anything. Once he had enough of the pathetic little show I put on for him, I more felt than heard his chuckle before he suddenly dove in.

The moment I felt his lips curl around my clit through the panties and suck, it felt like I could cum just from that as the relief and pleasure rushed through my veins and my hips kicked up a little. A long moan left my lips almost unwittingly and I threw my head back into the cushions hard enough to hurt even through the softness. My hands flew to his hair practically immediately and pulled hard, trying to keep him buried between my folds until the end of time.

Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind I disregarded his rule not to move, instead moaning loudly into my cunt in response and desperately mouthing and sucking at the little nub over the fabric. I felt my thighs tense with every move and Seonghwa’s hands gripped them harder to keep them still, his fingers sinking deep into the flesh until it was borderline painful, but the sensation only fuelled the madness of ecstasy that was warring through me and made everything just a tad bit sharper.

The man could only bear it for few more moments, before a frustrated noise sounded from between my legs and he was suddenly flying off of me. I instinctively pulled his hair to keep him where I wanted him and was greeted with the sight of his eyes rolling back into his skull and mouth opening on a silent moan. The display was enough to make me forget about the annoying lack of stimulation for just a few seconds, and I whined, high and long, as if trying to lure him closer.

Finally he looked at me, debauched pleasure written all over his face as his red swollen lips curled into a sensual grin, and then he quickly ripped my panties off and flung them somewhere across the room, only giving me the warning of hearing the fabric tear before the tatters curved through the air. I had barely two seconds to react and gasp before he was diving back straight for my pussy, his mouth and tongue finding my entrance almost immediately and licking and sucking all around it, spreading my wetness all over the lower part of his face.

An electric current went through me, my back arching on its own as I tensed and moaned at the sudden contact. And this time Seonghwa delivered, with all his might.

Only loud slurping sounds could be heard throughout the room as he wildly swirled his tongue around my folds, quickly gulping down everything he could gather and sucking intensely at my clit, making me jolt in his arms every time. Every once in a while he would move down for a moment, immediately sticking his tongue as deep into me as he could and fucking me with it with harsh fluid movements while his nose bumped against my most sensitive part and the loud chuffs of air, pants and moans vibrated through me and sent me higher; and then he’d rise back up only to abuse the swollen nub with rough flicks and well timed hard sucks.

I was falling apart under his ministrations quickly, almost embarrassingly so, my whole body jerking and quivering as my back curved up under the powerful euphoric bursts ravaging me inside out and the feeling of his warmth enveloping my folds made me almost crazy. The feeling only intensified when I looked down breathlessly and saw Seonghwa’s eyes, completely gone and glazed over, making him look like a helpless slave to the pleasure. I would have even felt some sense of power from it if he didn’t completely overwhelm me with the sensations, dutifully stimulating me in every way his clever mouth could think of.

He ate pussy wildly and messily, spreading my juices everywhere and nigh drowning in them, leaving me slack jawed under the onslaught of his tongue until I couldn’t even moan anymore, only tremble and gush even more right into his welcoming lips.

I felt myself clenching on him, the powerful feeling growing in intensity, building up from deep inside my core and my thighs shook over his shoulders. I knew I was a goner; I knew I was going to cum soon, and there was nothing I could do to fight it. So, I let go.

Seonghwa kept working my cunt tirelessly, swirling his tongue around my clit, licking through my folds, thrusting his tongue inside of me in slow and rough motions. And as he felt me getting closer, his own moans rose in pitch as if he was the one about to cum, mouth latched onto my entrance hungrily awaiting my release.

It only took a few more pumps and his nose pressing down hard on my clit, and the tension was snapping and suddenly I found myself cumming loudly, moan ripping out of my throat in shock at the strength of the orgasm, my whole body spasmed attempting to curl and arch with the euphoria, hands tightening impossibly in Seonghwa’s hair.

I blanked, everything turning to white and I could swear I could almost see stars as my ears rang. The whole feeling kept intensifying with Seonghwa still going, groaning into my pussy like it was the most delicious food he’s ever had.

When the high started coming off, I whined in overstimulation at his lazy strokes, for the first time trying to push him away instead of pull him closer, until he finally stopped and rested his head on one of my thighs. We both were breathing heavily and my whole body thrummed with the sweet release, while I could already see the darkness swirling back into his black irises. He smirked at me, half of his face completely smeared in my slick and glistening under the golden light of the room.

“See, wasn’t that refreshing?” he asked suddenly with voice raw and hoarse, a lot more joy seeping into it as he took in my boneless form and my unfocused eyes. I blinked through the tears and through the haze, rendered useless by the force of pleasure and yet still strangely unsatisfied. There were already swirls of new lust building up in my belly at his calculating hungry stare, and I was completely ready to give myself over to him in any way he requested, if only just to have him rain euphoria on me.

As if hearing my thoughts, the man rose suddenly, towering over me and once again looking down on me condescendingly over the top of his nose, but this time around I was considerably more distracted by the enormous tent attempting to push through his pants. He scoffed at me, watching me lust over his cock like I was nothing more but a bitch in heat, and then two of his fingers curled in a beckoning motion, luring me to him with a single gesture. And we both knew I would go.

I eagerly forced myself to sit up, taking a few seconds to try out my limbs again and see if I could even hold my weight now, but after some uncoordinated slips and bumbling around like a newborn fawn, I was able to push myself into a kneeling position on the sofa, my face exactly at the height of his crotch.

I looked up at him expectantly, already licking my lips at imagining having his length stuffed all the way down my throat. I knew he would do it to me, I knew he would push his way in harshly and fuck my throat until it was unusable, until I was crying and struggling to breathe. He would hold my head and force himself as deep as possible, disregarding me completely. It had me slicking up again, breathing quickening, the arousal building up steadily and quickly, the idea of it making my cunt clench in a silent plea to be filled up and absolutely ravaged. And by the look in Seonghwa’s eyes, I could tell that wish would soon become reality.

There was so much mockery and condescension etched into his features I would absolutely feel shame at myself the moment this ended, but while kneeling there I barely minded him clearly looking down on me, both literally and metaphorically. And he played with me a little, hand tangling itself into my hair and messing up the bun I had done for the wedding even more, pushing my head against his bulge, but not letting me mouth over it or touch it, always pulling away as soon as I moved closer. His cruel smirk reflected clearly how much fun teasing me he had, knowing he had me in this state after one orgasm without even fucking me. How truly pathetic I was.

His hard cock pushed at my cheek, and he pressed himself closer and firmer against me, slowly rocking his hips until he was dry humping my face, peering down at me filthily. I stayed docile in his hold, letting him rub himself over me, eyes trained on the way pleasure slowly broke through his mask, colouring his eyes with different kind of darkness. But he soon grew bored of this and pushed me away.

I held in the embarrassing whine at that, biting my tongue to keep myself together while he gazed at me looking like he was trying to figure how to destroy me. Which, to be honest, he absolutely was.

His thumb swiped over my lower lip quickly and then his hand migrated to my neck again, this time manhandling me a lot gentler as he pushed me around to turn and bend over to all fours, still perched on top of that sofa.

The furnishing moved and dented behind me, throwing me off balance a little, but then there was a body pressing into me, hips firmly digging into mine and a hot hard cock pushing against my weeping red cunt.

I gasped lightly and moved backwards, grinding onto the man to feel him sliding through my folds even with his pants still on, but he stopped me with a hiss, one hand going to push at my lower back and the other grabbing onto my hip.

“Stop being so impatient, doll,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, voice heavy and low with the accumulated lust, “You’ll take what I give you or I’ll have you watch as I cum all on my own.” Though even this threat sounded a little tempting, I immediately froze, only feeling my walls clenching in anticipation. I dug my fingers into the furnishing, almost even holding my breath to settle the wild desire running through me and begging me to just spear myself on his cock rules or no rules. But I held steadfast and was rewarded with his amused chuckle.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you doll?” he whispered, hands grabbing onto the meat of my hips and pulling me back against him while at the same time thrusting forward. I was so wet I slid along his pants seamlessly, leaving behind a trail of my arousal, and he parked himself home perfectly, cock pressing into my folds just flawless enough to make my brain absolutely melt.

I could feel the trembling in my hips start up again and fought against the urge to cant my hips in an attempt to finally have him fuck me. I didn’t feel strong enough to hold myself up on my arms anymore, so I slowly lowered myself until I was lying on and grabbing onto the arm of the sofa, looking straight into my own eyes in the reflection in the windows.

Seonghwa behind me was fascinatedly watching where we were pressed together while his hips resumed the gentle rocking against mine, just enough to make me feel him but not enough to give me any relief. I couldn’t hold back the whine and his eyes snapped to mine in the window, face instantly crumpling into a mean smirk.

“Such a good girl,” he repeated more teasingly this time, “only want someone to push you around a little and stuff you full, huh? Need someone to throw you down and show you your place, don’t you darling? No thoughts, just a cock drilling into you and filling you with cum, that’s what you need, huh?”

His words triggered a visceral reaction out of me; shuddering I whined loudly and finally pushed my hips against his, working them in little circles right on his erection, hoping to entice him into doing something. But I clearly underestimated just how much of a menace he could be when he wanted to.

Upon his entertained laugh I searched the window for his form again, finding him amusedly watching me pitifully attempting to get myself off on his pants, and frustration rushed through me. A growl ripped itself out of my throat and before I knew it, my mouth was running off.

“God, Seonghwa, just shut the fuck up and fuck me finally.”

Suddenly we were plunged into silence as I saw his eyes narrow at me, boring right into my soul even through the medium of the window. One of his hands pushed at the small of my back forcefully, steadying my hips and pinning them away from his, while his other finally moved to his belt and zipper. But there was a dark expression on his face, all amusement draining out of him in a second, instead now giving him a colder and domineering aura again.

“Guess I spoke too soon, huh?” he said with faux anger, hand aggressively tearing his belt off of his pants, “Did you already forget what I said about taking what I give you? Well… don’t tell me I didn’t warn you…” The last sentence had me breaking into cold sweat, both a warning and a promise sounding through his voice, throwing me into panic while my cunt slicked up even more in anticipation.

Seonghwa tore his pants open, pushing them around just enough to pull his cock out and without even giving me a chance to look, he shoved himself balls-deep inside of me knocking the wind out of me. I gasped out loudly, whole body jerking forward, and my hands grabbed onto the sofa as hard as I could to battle with the dual sensation of pleasure and fulfilment with burning pain. Tears sprung into my eyes, one sliding down my cheek and falling right into my mouth open wide on silent moan, making me taste salt.

Turns out, the dark-haired man wasn’t willing to wait on that either, as he immediately started pumping his hips into me full force, using his cock to mould my walls to fit him without giving me time to adjust. But it’s not like I complained about anything, when ecstasy I haven’t known before wracked through me and I moaned out desperately with every rough thrust, quickly feeling the pain melt into mind-numbing pleasure that had fire spreading through my every nerve.

I could already feel my body responding and we were barely a couple of thrusts in, but if the rapid throbbing of my walls and my shaking trembling hips were anything to go by, I was ready to cum within few moments. And Seonghwa felt it.

His hands readjusted their grip on my body and then he upped the pace, snapping his hips into me wildly and forcefully, almost knocking to wind out of me on every uptake and sending me crashing into the armrest. He slid in so deep and so perfectly, pressing up against my sweet spot with every move and sending me into overdrive. Every few thrusts I felt like I blacked out for a few seconds as my mind and body started shutting down to only receive the pleasure and nothing more. My face was wet, and I wasn’t sure if it was from sweat, drool or tears, but still I felt like I was sitting on the edge of some terrible breathtaking revelation, like a messiah witnessing a godly act for the first time in their miserable life.

I was literally gasping for breath and on the cusp of cumming again after barely two minutes of his rough pace, cunt so wet I made a mess everywhere and every time he pulled out my juices splattered on our bodies. I was hungrily sucking him in, clenching around the intrusion in hopes of keeping him lodged so deep inside of me it scratched something wild and primal in my brain.

There was babbling and nonsense spilling out of my lips, begging the man to never stop and whining out how good he felt stretching me out like that; cock hammering into my walls with brutish force and I knew I’d never forget the feeling of getting fucked by him, of his thickness spearing me open and the spongy tip overstimulating me from the inside.

The man behind me snickered and I peeked through my half-lidden eyes to the reflection, seeing the vision of Seonghwa ravaging me with all of his clothes still on and perfectly intact, only his pants pushed slightly down, sweat running down his forehead and his cheeks, eyes crazed and trained on the way my whole body bounced with his thrusts. His eyes screamed absolute power and rendered me defenceless against him.

He kept steadily upping the tempo until he was jackhammering into me so quickly my body was crashing down under the tidal wave of pleasure, my g-spot so fucking battered I was crying and drooling into the pillows. I was so sensitive and high-strung, experiencing a wave after a wave of nearly there orgasms, always strong enough to have me breathless but never enough to quite push me over the edge.

I wanted to plead and beg for him to make me cum, but I couldn’t even speak properly through the loud whines and moans spilling freely out of my throat, tongue completely useless and wooden, and any attempt to speak got drown out by Seonghwa’s grunts and groans anyway. So I put the matter into my own hands, quite literally.

I quickly stuck my hand down between my legs and went straight for my clit, pressing on it desperately, half expecting Seonghwa to push it away and punish me, but the man only laughed, head thrown back beautifully to showcase his neck shining with perspiration. When his head lolled back, he was grinning brilliantly, eyes half-lidded and yet so alert it was scary. He was drinking it all up, taking in the spectacle and enjoying the show.

“Look at you, making yourself cum on my cock,” he teased breathily, trying to keep the same tempo but I could feel he was slipping too, “If I knew you’d be cumming your brain out within a few thrusts like this, I’d have treated you like that from the beginning, darling.” I barely registered it, instead everything inside of me screaming from teetering on the edge for too long.

And then suddenly I stuttered and gasped, everything crashing onto me in a burst of fire, and I was cumming so fiercely I screamed, cunt clenching strongly enough to restrict his movement, but he continued slamming into me forcefully as if nothing happened, as if it was nothing while I shook and jerked and cried, the feeling overtaking me with such intensity I blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back into the back of my skull and my tongue lolling out of my mouth and dripping drool everywhere. Everything was just white noise, and all I could register were my curling toes, my fingers digging into the fabric hard enough to hurt, the feeling of my juices streaming down my thighs as I came and my cunt pumping the most delicious euphoria I’ve ever felt through my body, like sweet ambrosia running through my veins.

I heaved a deep breath suddenly, like coming up through the surface after almost drowning, my body snapping back into itself as the climax turned into a continuous shivering electric hum under my skin. I felt even barely conscious, eyes slipping closed after the intensity of the orgasm plundering through me at the hands of the beautiful man.

But Seonghwa was still thrusting into me, plunging deep and keeping practically the same tempo, and I cried out in overstimulation, instinctively trying to pull away from him, but he kept me in place with his grip, never faltering and taking what he wanted. He was grunting and loudly gasping for air behind me, clearly also on the edge of finding his release, while I was fucked into complete oversensitivity, every new thrust sending scalding hot fireworks through my tired body.

His pace changed, his strokes getting more heavy-handed as he focused more on delivering deep hard thrusts instead of keeping up his pace, the impact of our bodies strong enough to make loud slapping noises that flew through the room, and in any normal kind of headspace it would make me embarrassed, but now I could barely think about anything else other than the hard hot cock making me go crazy and slowly pushing me towards a third high.

Seonghwa curled around me slightly, crumpling with the force of his oncoming orgasm, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open, his hands digging into me with such force I was afraid they were drawing blood.

This was pure animalistic fucking, the kind that I’ve never experienced before, and wasn’t fully prepared for what was in store for me, turning me into a lifeless ragdoll in his hands, just taking it, body jolting around on the soft settee along with his movements.

“I’m going to ruin you for him,” gasped out Seonghwa abruptly after such a long period of silence. His mind seemed to be completely gone, eyes glazed over with something insane and dangerous. His hips pumped desperately, and I felt his cock twitching wildly inside of me just begging to burst.

“I’m going to ruin you for him and for everyone else,” he continued hurriedly, the words falling out of him quickly and with force, “every time he even tries, you’ll only be thinking about how I gave it to you better than any man ever could. My sweet little sister-in-law thinking about my cock while fucking her husband.” A long groan left him, the image he was painting getting to him and pushing him towards the edge hard, his eyes squeezing shut tightly.

I moaned out weakly at that, heat clamping down on him once again in response to his filthy words, and there was an absolutely debauched high-pitched moan from behind me before I felt Seonghwa explode, cumming in strong thick spurts that filled me up quickly as his hips jerked forward with the momentum, trying to press himself as deep as possible to deposit his load.

Another wave similar to a weak orgasm rolled through me and I shivered under him, body protesting and begging me for a reprieve.

We stilled, both trying to catch our breath and recover from the highs we went through, and Seonghwa leaned down, plastering himself to my back. The heat rose at the contact of our two bodies and it was nearly unbearable, but then suddenly the man was giggling darkly into my ear and dread rolled through me at the sound. His lips attached themselves lightly to the lobe, playing with it a little before getting to the point.

“Gave you my load nice and deep darling,” he whispered conspiratorially, another breathless chuckle escaping him, “just like your pussy wanted.” There was a terrible beat of silence, the calm before storm, the dark awful moment before a disaster strikes. I felt his lips pressing closer to the shell of my ear, almost feeling the shape of his smirk.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic…” he started playfully, intentionally avoiding what he wanted to say, until he finally whispered: “How fun would it be if his first son was my bastard, huh? If I got you nice and pregnant tonight and sent you back with a little gift? Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

A sense of dread and panic started setting into my stomach, but I was too tired, too drained, and I couldn’t do anything except lie there under him and slowly come to terms with my fate. My eyes were even barely open, but I saw enough of him to know that he had more than just a little sick satisfaction from that. The only thing I could do was turn my gaze away and quietly stew in the possible consequences of my lapse of judgement.

“He took everything of mine,” Seonghwa said with dark finality, “It’s only fair I take something of his.” I didn’t react to that, letting him ride the high all on his own while I just wanted to lie down and sleep. But he seemed to have a different idea of how this evening would continue.

With a deep rumbling laugh he gently gathered me in his arms, dislodging himself from me in the process. I blushed lightly at the feeling of his thick cum trickling down my thighs immediately, but I bet it could be barely seen on my sweaty red face. I dreaded to see the state of my makeup after all of this, or the state of the sofa where my face got smushed into the light brown fabric. Or where I, you know, got fucked into oblivion.

Seonghwa happily heaved me up and started walking towards the king bed in the other room, softly laying me down on the bedding. In my half delirious state my tired brain tried catch up with him now that he flipped again and started being all kind, but I just watched him warily as he moved about the room elegantly.

His clothes were somehow still perfectly in place, except for his pants that were open and hanging onto his hips by sheer willpower. I could see the dark stains of my slick on them alongside some colourful smudges of my makeup and I blushed again, the shame catching up on me now that my brain wasn’t as heated anymore, and I could think at least a little clearly.

I was gathering up my strength to sit up and remove the rest of the tattered lingerie (and my shoes, somehow I managed to forget my heels were still firmly strapped on my feet), when I felt a shadow fall over me. My eyes blinked open slowly, taking in Seonghwa who suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed, looking down on me amusedly.

I watched on as he slowly started loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his black vest and white shirt. He undressed unhurriedly, the whole time hypnotising me with dark eyes and the bad premonition rose in me once more, the pit in my stomach opening. But if it was with dread or hunger, I couldn’t tell.

Once he got rid of everything except for his pants and underwear, which was on again even though there was a dark wet stain on it, I was already inched up all the way in the middle of the bed as if instinctively trying to put some distance between us. The predatory glint in his eyes told me he was very aware of that; it was trained on me like a wolf’s gaze on a helpless rabbit.

He leisurely climbed onto the bed, one leg after another, beautiful muscled torso on display, just miles of flawless honey-toned skin rippling with every fluid movement of his lithe body. Suddenly he leaned forward and his hands clasped around my ankles like shackles, but his touch remained delicate, a complete one eighty from the ruthless man before.

While keeping his eyes trained on mine, he languidly bent down and placed a barely there kiss on the skin right above my ankle, and I shivered at the caress, my legs tensing and trembling under his care. Seonghwa smirked lightly, snickered quietly and put his lips back to work.

As he unhurriedly climbed up my legs, crawling over me with his hands and lips reverently tracing my heated skin, here or there swiping his tongue over it and tasting the salt of our combined sweat, I laid there and observed him with bated breath, tentative excitement beginning to swirl in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure whether I could go on, but it was hard to remain cold under his lustful stare and gentle hands.

When he reached my crotch I gasped and he laughed at me, nosing a little around the sensitive area and staring like a hawk at my reaction. Trying hard not to break I pursed my lips together hard, but I couldn’t conceal whatever it was that swam in my eyes to which he seemed to be drawn the most. I cursed at my weak mind and flesh and threw my head back in surrender, thighs automatically falling more apart to give him space to operate.

My heart gave a few painful pumps, and I tried not to think about what was happening here, tried to not think about what night this was and who I was with, but the man seemed determined not to let me forget what sin we were committing here.

An amused chuckle flew out his mouth at me, I felt the puff of air hit my sensitive slit and jolted a little with a quiet gasp, but he only kissed the top of my mound and then moved on to kiss at my hip and further up.

“I’d love to clean up your naughty little pussy, darling,” he whispered into my navel stuttering and trembling with my uneven breaths, “but I want my cum stay right where it is for just a moment longer.” I shuddered at that, a pulse of heat running through me. My hands, all sweaty and clammy, desperately grabbed onto the sheet and dug deep into the mattress in a miserable attempt to not grasp onto him.

Seonghwa slowly kissed his way all the way up to my breasts and suddenly his way was obstructed by the remnants of my night-dress, the white lacy bra barely holding on after he ripped off the lower half of the set. After one cheeky glance my way he sat up and tapped my side gently.

“Arch that back for me for a moment doll, let me take it off for you,” trickled out of his mouth in a sensual drawl, hands already sliding to my back. I listened, of course I did, even though I still stubbornly refused to meet his eyes and turned my head to the side, instead looking out the window at the night Seoul. The man’s reflection was embedded there, obstructing my view and forcing me to perceive him until the bitter end. I watched as he moved fluidly, hands caressing their way up my back and searching for the clasp, undoing it with a single blind flick of his fingers.

I felt the fabric give and slide off of me slightly, before Seonghwa dutifully moved to collect it and move it away, quickly taking it off and throwing it to the side towards the closet. I kept my eyes trained on the vision he was, a dark silhouette backlit with golden light, almost shining skin like a halo, on the backdrop of the beautiful nightline. It was ethereal, he looked ethereal.

The figure moved again, smoothing himself out over the bed, anchoring himself between my thighs. I witnessed him languidly bend down, like he had all the time in the world, a soft smirk on his face that spoke of victory. The same moment his head ducked down lazily, I felt the man’s hot breath hit my skin and then he was licking a bold stripe up the strip between my breasts. In the reflection, the two forms moulded together, and I felt myself arch up into him and gasp, breaking the eye contact with the window.

I lost the battle to my hands and finally reached for him, needed to feel him and grab on to him so viscerally I almost couldn’t breathe with the desire. I ran up the smooth planes of his back until I finally tangled them into his long black messed up hair, for the second time that night.

Contrary to what I expected, Seonghwa kept himself calm and only migrated to softly play with my tit, pulling the nipple into his mouth and lightly sucking, sending tingling down my spine. He wasn’t hurried at all, the lazy strokes of his tongue around the little nub and the sucks pleasantly sending bursts of warmth through me.

His hands held my tits from the sides, pushing them together as he trailed his mouth all over them, laying down searing branding kisses, alternating between the two nipples and biting lightly. I surrendered to the feeling, letting the beautiful man play me as he pleased, curling into him and hands pulling him closer, massaging the skin of his back and his shoulders.

I was obsessed with the feeling of him under my hands, the heat radiating off of him, the softness of his skin compared to the firmness of the muscle bellow, feeling it ripple as he moved himself closer and plunged his head between my tits, feeling it vibrate with his light moans and sighs of pleasure. It felt like I was losing my mind, body melting into him and eternally begging for more.

I had my eyes closed firmly shut, head thrown back and all thoughts banished except for the sensation of his wet tongue exploring every inch of me and leaving a trail of shivers behind. Without me realising it my thighs rose to cage his waist and hips, hitching up to the back of his thighs and latching onto him so he could never leave and deprive me of this feeling.

Seonghwa was full of happy chuffs and amused chuckles, just entertaining himself by watching me struggle to contain the lust, and I could feel his eyes on me, the dark orbs taking me in as I laid there under him and pleaded for his attention without even having to say a single word.

After what felt like hours of just worshipping my tits, until not even a single millimetre of my skin wasn’t kissed or licked or sucked by his naughty mouth, he finally moved higher and settled into the crook of my neck and latching onto the soft spot right under my ear, making me keen and sigh and whimper. He paid the same attention to my neck, marking it all up with searing kisses and bites that left a gentle sting mixing into the pleasure and I felt my cunt gushing once more, getting ready to take him again.

This new position had our hips perfectly aligned and there was an unmistakable bulge pressing into my centre, and before I could stop myself or think about it, I started gyrating my hips and rubbing myself all over him.

“Being so naughty again, princess,” Seonghwa murmured into my skin with a snicker, “Need another good fucking? Want another load from your brother-in-law, is that it?” I whined, turning my head away from him in embarrassment, but he didn’t seem bothered and only pressed himself closer. I hated when he was using that name for himself, but I couldn’t deny it was the truth. I’ve done such a good job of ignoring that blaring fact, but he never failed to bring me back firmly onto Earth.

Then his hand slowly sneaked from my breasts down my stomach between my legs and he immediately pressed two fingers onto my clit, forcing a stuttered moan out of my throat.

My pussy was so raw and tender after the fucking it received, just wet and swollen and burning, burning for more and begging to be filled and ravaged again, and I knew the moment I’d get his cock inside me again it would feel like getting branded with a fired seal, but I craved nothing more than to have the tip battering my sweet spot until I couldn’t speak.

His fingers didn’t waste time and after some playing around with the sensitive aching nub, he plunged them as deep inside as they could go, giving me a nice substitute but knowing they wouldn’t fill me up enough, not in the way I craved as I began to lose my mind to the lust once more.

The residues of his last release squelched and spurted around his fingers as he began slowly but forcefully fucking me with them, turning it into even a bigger mess, but I barely cared when I had something to clench onto and ride the feeling.

I absolutely felt like I was going through a heat, like I wasn’t capable of single thought beyond getting absolutely railed by this stunning cruel man. At the back of my head countless alarms blared through the night, but I ignored all of them. So what if he did it for revenge? So what if he didn’t care one bit? So what if this had potentially devastating consequences? Nothing mattered as long as he kept fucking me and making me cum.

“How’s that, darling?” he asked on a mean turn of his fingers, forcing them deeper into me and curling them into the most sensitive patch, “Enjoying your brother-in-law’s fingers? You’re such a dirty little whore, letting me have my way with you on your wedding night.” The equally fascinated and mocking tone of his voice was back, hypnotising me with its sweetness and luring me in just to hammer my shame home even further.

I ignored the way I clenched around him at those words, though Seonghwa no doubt noticed judging by the snickers and giggles that kept escaping him as he watched me flail about on the bed under his ministrations. The whine that did claw its way out of me was completely involuntary though and I tried to cover it up with a loud exclamation of “Seonghwa!”. I truly meant it as a reprimand, but it came out as a helpless moan as I felt a shockwave of pleasure rushing through me.

And had I been watching the man, I’d see the way his already blown out pupils dilated with lust even more, as the familiar glint of aroused craze settled back into them.

“Fuck, darling, I really do like hearing you say my name like that,” he whispered breathlessly, fingers picking up the pace, “And you’re absolutely right. You should be screaming my name, you should scream yourself hoarse on my cock so you’d never forget..”

I panted heavily and my legs kept tensing with the rising feeling of another orgasm coming, this time the tidal wave rising higher and higher, the tension getting more strung up and tightening around my core like a string about to snap. But I needed more. I wanted more.

Letting go of all the inhibitions I had left, I grabbed onto the man, desperately pulling at him as I arched more, thighs falling open and hips canting up to feel his thin frame lodge into mine even more. My eyes blinked open after what felt like a whole eternity in a blissful darkness and sought out his immediately, looking into those all-consuming orbs watching my every move.

“Please, Seonghwa…” came out as a hoarse whisper, more a desperate whine than anything, “fuck, please! Please, give me something!” A wicked fucking grin split his face and I realised that it was what he was waiting for this whole time. To break me enough to beg for it all on my own. A dark anticipation ran through me, knowing I’d finally get what he’d been teasing me with.

And I couldn’t even feel bad about it when the man finally extricated himself from me, settled on his knees and pushed his trousers and underwear off, baring himself to me for the first time that night. Or early morning, I had no idea how much time has actually passed.

I was taking his lean figure in hungrily, eyes scaling up and down the elegant planes and curves that hid so much muscle and strength under deceptive beauty, and of course, his beautiful cock standing tall, thin, long and angry red at the weeping tip, all but begging to get back inside of my warmth. And who was I to take that away from him?

Clocking in how starvingly I was eyeing his length, the man smirked at me, hand going to grip my jaw and force my eyes back to his face. There was an arrogant self-satisfied grimace, knowing he’d captivated me like no other before.

“Now now, be a good girl,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, “and maybe I’ll let you suck it some other time.” The promise in that sentence sent shivers and goosebumps down the line of my body, but I couldn’t decide whether it was dread or pure ecstasy at knowing I’d get him like this again, already completely hooked on what he was offering. I licked my lips and his eyes jumped briefly down, lips absentmindedly turning into a smile and then he released me.

Now fully naked, he teasingly slowly settled over me, hips anchoring themselves between my thighs like before, but this time he went for my mouth in another claiming kiss, grabbing onto the side of my head as he pushed his tongue in immediately and eagerly drank up all my little noises of surprise and joy.

This kiss was different though, languid and deliberate and deep, the slow strokes almost lazy in nature, and I keened into him, eyes rolling back with the sensations that washed over me both suddenly and gradually at the same time.

And then, without any warning, he started pushing in, much like he was kissing me – languidly and deliberately driving into me in a slow motion, until our hips were moulded together. And this time it felt like he was even deeper, just sitting there inside of me, pushing into me in a way that was making me crazy without even moving, the weight of having him pressed there enough to choke me up on a sob.

My mouth opened on a moan and Seonghwa hungrily ate it up, mouth continuing to work me and kiss me even though I grew unresponsive in his arms, eyes glazed and unseeing.

And just like before, contrary to my expectations, he didn’t start wildly thrusting into me. Instead he just as slowly pulled out and pushed back in, hips fluidly moving in broad slow strokes and I felt like he was pumping hot molten iron into my circulation.

Our mouths disconnected with a lewd gasp, a few strings of saliva connecting us together until his dark grin broke them. We were so close to each other, our skin melded together by sweat, bodies sliding against each other with every leisured thrust. He stayed hovering right above me, our noses brushing together and breaths mingling. Seonghwa drank up every little twitch of my face with his dark blown out eyes and I couldn’t help but keep my wide open, staring right back.

The eye contact was intense, and I felt sparks jumping between us, but neither of us broke. We just breathed into each other’s lips, brushing but not initiating another kiss. It was so intimate it almost fooled me into believing we cared about each other; with one of his hands reverently caressing my side and the gentle steady pace of his hips, it would have been easy to believe that.

Seonghwa shifted slightly, so that he was leaning on his elbow placed by my shoulder, while the free hand travelled down again to grasp at my hip. Pinning me down to the bed, he roughed up the pace a little, snapping his hips to me a little harder. That finally got me breaking out of the spell and the moment he hammered into my sweet spot, my eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned whinily.

I grabbed onto him, at first onto the shoulders and then I migrated to his waist. Seonghwa chuckled and swerved to get back to my neck, giggling lightly straight into my ear.

“That’s it, darling,” he whispered devotedly, voice honeyed and curling around my senses like a snake, “Fuck, yeah, that’s it…” I took in a shaky breath and immediately tensed at another perfectly aimed pump.

“Seonghwa..” I whimpered out, arching under him even more if that even was possible, legs curling around his hips, and he suddenly pulled back his arm to grab onto my right knee and force it all the way until it hit the mattress, opening me up to him and sliding in even deeper on the next stroke. I choked on a whine, the gradual build up of another orgasm turning my tongue into lead and whiting out my mind.

Seonghwa stubbornly refused to speed up, even though I was hopelessly writhing underneath him on the king bed in the honeymoon suite, husband of barely few hours drunken halfway to death somewhere in this 60-storey building, and here I was. Falling apart another man’s cock, begging for more.

“S-Seonghwa!” I choked out again, “Please, please, fuck I need something!” My cunt felt so raw and sensitive from all the fucking and orgasms before and every time he plunged back inside, slowly to make me feel every inch, every ridge, until his tip nudged as deep as it could go, it ignited me in a way that seemed to touch deep enough to burn my soul.

I felt the sweat trickling down my body, from the creases on the inside of my knees, from beneath my breasts, down my neck and hairline, we both felt so sweaty we stuck together, every movement made smooth by it. It made the slapping noise of our bodies meeting each other wetter, along with my juices that must have by now covered absolutely everything. The heat was nigh unbearable, but it was consuming me from the inside out just like all the other sensations, making my brain even more muddled.

I fought to focus my eyes again, pull them towards Seonghwa, to see the man that was ruining me like this, to see what kind of expression was on his face. The moment I rolled my head back, he was there. The man must have gone back to watching me at some point without me realising it, because there he was, with his face wet with perspiration and hair sticking to his forehead, eyes almost black and lips curled loosely into a smug grin.

“There you are, darling,” fell out of his lips easily, in the otherwise pretty silent room it was almost too loud. I gasped and hiccupped, still hanging onto him like a lifeline.

“After this, what I wouldn’t give to have you ride me, pretty girl,” the man continued now that he had my attention again, “To see your tits bounce as you ride my cock, to fill you up with another load… I know you deserve another one, don’t you pretty girl?” He grew breathless with every word, hips losing rhythm and snapping a little faster, not much but a smidge. I appreciated it all the same, chanting a row of “yes, yes, yes!” while he laughed at me like I was pathetic.

“I’ll have you do it some other time, darling,” Seonghwa just kept going, my reactions fuel to his fire, hips now swirling with every thrust, working in little circles like he was just amusing himself, “after all, I’ll probably need to pump you full a couple times before it takes, huh? And we have all the time in the universe… now that we’re family.”

I whined, but it was drowned out by the noise inside of my head. Sparks were erupting all over my body, the steady pace he set putting just enough pressure on my g-spot to have me stiffening and growing taunt, getting pushed closer and closer to an edge that was already so familiar to me by now.

“Like that!” I couldn’t hold back the scream, head thrown back into the pillows, “Hwa! Hwa, please don’t stop!” The man in question didn’t laugh at me like I anticipated, instead he bent down until our foreheads were almost touching, hand clenching on my knee and keeping it pushed into the bedding, hips enthusiastically pumping into me in a deep circular motion. There were some soft creaks of the bed that got lost to my relieved moans, drowned in the cacophony that was us.

The shaking started up again, the feeling close to overcoming me so intense my whole body shook and trembled as I gasped and moaned, my throat hoarse and lips bitten raw (whether it be from Seonghwa or my own self).

Seemed that the man for once decided to listen to me, cause he kept his pace and aimed at that one spot until I felt the wave rising, rising, pussy clenching and squeezing. It was mounting way more intensely than before and I found myself thrashing, feeling like I was about to explode.

My fingers dug into Seonghwa’s skin, enough to leave him some nasty marks and scratches, and I heard the man hiss in pleasure, hips kicking forward a little rougher and all it took was two, three, four more pumps and then everything burst out in blinding deafening blast, body contorting as much as it could twist under Seonghwa, toes curling and the ecstasy shot through me, shot out of me in strong currents of relief and it felt so fucking good, so good I could cry (and I probably did).

Once the first wave fell off a little, I registered Seonghwa’s stuttered moans and curses, hips jerking wildly, drawing out the euphoria endlessly until I thought I might die between the never-ending pulses of pleasure. The feeling of wetness rose tenfold between us, but my brain couldn’t comprehend anything.

I kept moaning as Seonghwa kept thrusting, going with the feeling and riding the high, listening to his desperate groans and murmurs. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, not fully, everything still fuzzy on the edges and my bones molten gold, even the air I was breathing was full of ecstasy and everything swam in front of my eyes.

“Look at me darling, fuck, look at me,” his desperate moan pulled my attention, and I did my best to focus on him. Eyes blown wide and hair messy, golden skin dewy with drops of perspiration; I felt one hit my skin and splatter and it was almost burning.

“Fuck, I wanna see you when I fill you up one last time, pretty girl,” Seonghwa gasped out, hold tightening on my thigh and mouth open wide gasping into mine as our noses slid against each other with sweat.

When he came, I felt it viscerally through my whole body.

At first, he trembled under my hands, muscles growing taunt. Then his hips kicked forward forcefully and suddenly an overflow of scalding hot seed spilt into me in thick long spurts. Seonghwa’s face fell to my neck and his high-pitched moans reverberated through my chest and I lied there gasping, walls contracting, trying to keep everything inside. It was a primitive instinct, but I knew no better than to get absolutely bred and fucked after all.

There were little tremors running through me, aftershocks of the orgasm, aftershocks of feeling Seonghwa’s orgasm so close, of the raw pleasure it brought me to feel him release inside of me. But as the adrenaline started wearing off, I suddenly felt dizzy and boneless.

Seonghwa was like the devil, lips pressed to the shell of my ear and whispering, tattering off with hushed praises, hands caressing me and his weight comfortably pressing me down into the bed. I felt the warmth of his cum trickling down the cleft of my ass, escaping around his softening cock still lodged inside of me.

“You’re amazing darling, I had no idea you’d squirt for me like that,” I caught one of the things he muttered into my neck sweetly, kissing along the column of it in gently, “such a good girl for me…” Everything wavered, growing dark.

My eyes were closing by themselves, and I could barely keep myself awake enough to hear what he said next, the gravity making itself known once more and pulling my heavy body into the bedding. I slowly drifted off to his soft whispers and tender touches.

Waking up the next morning, if someone told me I got runover by a truck in my sleep, I’d have believed them. I’d fucking swear my body creaked when I tried to move, the muscles protesting and bones cracking into place one by one.

Upon stretching I realised that I was laid in clean sheets. I distinctly remembered falling asleep in a bed that was soaked through with release and sweat, the feeling of the cold wet bedding on my rapidly cooling skin was uncomfortable enough to burn into my memory. I was still naked though.

The next thing I noticed had mortification mixed with shame spreading through me rapidly and I didn’t know whether to blush or just burst out crying. I could feel the dried up cum coating my heat and thighs, meaning he didn’t clean me up afterwards.

I wanted to hate him and paint him in my mind as an asshole that didn’t give two shits about aftercare, since it wouldn’t be that big of a leap honestly, but if I got to know one thing about him yesterday, it’s that he most definitely left it on purpose.

Just as I was cursing him in my mind and figuring out how to take a shower while my entire body refused to work, there was a groan and a ruffle of sheets from behind me. I froze immediately and panic gripped me.

If the bastard didn’t even leave… Anyone could come in at any moment, there’s no explaining the fate that would befall me if I was caught here like this.

But when I finally willed myself through the panic to turn around and face it head on, there was my husband, sleeping like a baby. He was undressed and smelled absolutely horrendously, but it was him unmistakably. Unfortunately. A vague shape of a memory fought its way to the surface in my mind – blearing through sleepy eyes glued together at the shadow of Seonghwa pulling someone into the room, the rustling of sheets and nondescript cursing and thuds – before I got pulled back under.

Great. Just awesome

After few moments of struggling to stand up and balance my weight on my shaky unsteady knees, I finally managed to set out on my way to the bathroom. It was all across the suite and in the process, I got to witness the doom of our night together.

The poor sofa had a stain and a few splatters on it, and I didn’t wish to investigate their origin any further, so I moved through the tattered remains of my wedding dress that was split in the middle almost cleanly. At some point one of us had to knock over a champagne glass, because I almost stepped on it while looking over the dress, instead landing my foot in still a vaguely damp sticky pool of drying alcohol seeping into the carpet and lower tiers of the dress. I ignored the mortification and embarrassment at the clear display of complete mess and soldiered on shakily.

Getting to the bathroom was a whole ordeal, but when I made it, I had no idea the true show was yet to begin. There in mirror was my reflection, it was much clearer than the ones I had burned into my memory of yesterday, there were no blinding lights behind it, no dark sky to distract, only me covered in marks from head to toe, hair a fucked-out nest and eyes red-rimmed.

I breathed out a sigh, resignation setting in as I looked at the state of me. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t even have my makeup here, it was a hot summer outside. I would have to walk out of here eventually and I couldn’t hide even an inch of the reddish and purplish spots and bitemarks that littered the skin of my neck and the swell of my breasts. The bites tapered out a little there and I looked down, seeing the carnage that was my hips with vivid marks of fingers and hands printed on my skin.

For a moment I stood there, eyes squeezed shut and face pulled into a frustrated grimace, but then I just sighed deeply again, the tension quickly bleeding out of me. What was done, was done.

With slumped shoulders I dragged my feet to the shower, trying to make myself forget as much as possible and wash away all the evidence that could be taken off with the soft floral soap.

I hid away in the bathroom for as long as was humanly possible, going through all the extra steps of trying out the several samples of moisturizes and drying my hair until it was almost fried, even cleaning up after myself. If I had the solution, I’d even polish the fucking mirror, but eventually there came a knock on my door and a timid maid informed me I was eagerly awaited at the brunch. I waited to hear her leave, and then with shaky hands pushed the door open.

The room was already empty when I stepped out, but it was clean – the carpet with the dress were gone and the offending sofa stain was covered up with a throw blanket, I supposed until they could get to cleaning it. A single pile of folded clothes sat on the table.

I didn’t even question it until I had it in my hands and realised both the top and the skirt covered just enough to be decent, but most of the marks would be pretty much visible, the spaghetti straps barely covering anything and the slit between my top and bottom showing off the fingerprints on my waist. Rolling my eyes annoyedly I fucking immediately knew this was Seonghwa’s pick.

I was going to murder the man once I got my damn hands on him.

With no other choice left in the empty room, I put it on and made my way downstairs. It was a real walk of shame, all the eyes turning my way and examining my colourful state. Even knowing the staff were all aware it was my wedding night didn’t make it any easier, and at some point, I found the idea of them thinking this was Yujun’s job actually worse than knowing it was his brother. I shimmied quickly down the halls until I reached the little private salon where we were apparently being hosted.

Without realising how bad my day was about to get, I hurriedly rounded the partition and promptly froze in my tracks. This wasn’t a private breakfast. As soon as I stepped into the space, there was several sets of eyes trained on me, more sets than I was comfortable with.

At the head of the table sat my mother and Mrs. Park, both alternating between casting judging glances towards Yujun and towards me, on one side of the table sat three of Yujun’s obnoxious buddies and on the other I found myself once again face to face with Seonghwa.

He was eyeing me with undeniable interest, pupils dark and hungry. Proud. He liked the clothes. Liked showing me off. I flushed but thankfully the embarrassment was easily explainable by the sudden attention from everyone else, especially since Yujun’s bodies started murmuring something no doubt very inappropriate, judging by their lewd expressions.

It was awful and I wanted to fucking melt into the floor, so I stood there for few long moments battling myself to stay put and not turn on my heels and walk straight out of the hotel and into the sea.

Yujun was puffing up his chest, much to the distaste of our mothers sitting right by his side, but he was ignoring them and already sending looks to his friends and looking like a right idiot. I fought to keep the scowl off of my face, and when I finally forced myself to move to sit down in the only spot left at the table, I kicked Seonghwa who was grinning in a very much “cat who ate the canary” way.

The man barely reacted to me and continued leisurely eating his waffles, so self-satisfied it rolled off of him in fucking waves. And what was even worse, of course I had to sit in between him and Yujun. The gods couldn’t be more against me, but I soldiered on. I really had no other option.

I tried not to insert myself into the conversation too much. After the initial shock of my entrance wore off, the hum of amicable chat resumed. I ignored some very uncouth comments and soon they lost interest in teasing me when I stubbornly stared into my cup or food and didn’t react at all. The brunch dragged on with the air of awkwardness hanging over everybody, our mothers attempting to pull the table back to polite conversation while Yujun continued making an idiot out of himself by behaving like a fucking caveman.

Or maybe it was just me, my husband and his buddies certainly seemed in great spirits. I almost scoffed, managing to put my hand in front of my face last minute and cough. I heard Seonghwa’s quiet snickers to my right and registered my mother’s warning glance, and after that I didn’t speak another word.

And just when I thought I had escaped, with the empty plates signalling the end of the brunch was in sight, I felt a hand on my thigh. My right thigh. Seonghwa looked at me from the corner of his eye, lips dangerously curved into a playful smirk. I tensed, body slowly turning to stone.

Everybody else carried on.

My heart was pumping painfully, hands shaking. An awful feeling of despair set into me, my chest cavity filling with black tar while my head spun. What had I gotten myself into?

“Seonghwa, thank you for letting us use the hotel,” my mother said, completely clueless, “it was so very helpful.”

He laughed gently, hand squeezing my thigh possessively.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

thank you for reading!

the divider taken from the amazingly talented @saradika-graphics

#kpop smut #kpop fic #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa fic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez #seonghwa #ateez angst #seonghwa angst

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 7 months ago

Text

Medieval knight!Jason Todd who's a long-lost son of the Wayne earldom. He took up a crusade when he was younger but was believed to be dead. Only to reveal himself several years later during the swordsmanship tournament hosted by Wayne family. Just as Dick was lying in the sand coughing up blood next to his discarded sword, his unknown challenger took off his scarlet helmet and the entire court erupted in chaos.

That was years ago now. Since then, Sir Todd made amends with his family, but they are by no means close. Jason managed to gain a title and a fief on his own, independent of his family and he takes no small pride in that. These days he and his merry group of loyal warriors take up mercenary work and guardianship if the person has enough coin.

When the local baron hired him to be a personal guard for his daughter, Jason was sure that would be an easy job for a good amount of gold. The red knight soon found out that being your bodyguard is not as easy as he thought. You were quite the escape artist. Whenever a banquet or an audience was too boring for your liking, you simply vanished, and Jason had to search for you high and low to drag you back. It made him grind his jaw and caused his temper to flare more than once.

You were thrilled and appalled that someone spoke to you so crassly and brazenly. Other soldiers your father assigned to you treated you with the utmost respect and gave up after a few months. Not the red knight. He proved himself to be just as stubborn as you, if not more. At this point, it wasn't about money anymore. He just couldn't stand the thought of some spoiled daughter of a noble getting the better of him. Jason had no qualms about throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you back to the castle, while the plate of his armor dug uncomfortably into your stomach.

After six months of this, Jason was fed up with your nonsense and was ready to collect his gold and disappear for good. You were hiding from the baroness, some nonsense about dress fitting or a dance lesson. Jason was just returning from the training grounds when he saw you sitting on the ground near the barn, playing with a fresh litter of kittens. You knew the cat and the kittens well, and judging how other animals treated you it wasn't your first time there. You met his gaze and winked at him, placing a finger to your lips. Your first shared secret.

After that day, your personal guard Jason somehow became your partner in crime. He looked the other way sometimes or followed in a safe distance. You fascinated him, and somehow, before he even knew it, he started to fall for you. He wanted to deny it. Jason reminded himself time and time again why it was a horrible idea. However, he couldn't keep himself from falling more and more for you.

Another day, another one of your daring escapes. This time was, different, though. You took some of your belongings and your horse while leaving a letter to say your goodbyes. Jason did not care for exploring the feelings of absolute horror that grasped his heart at the thought of you disappearing from his life. He immediately set out to search for you. You couldn't escape too far and he knew where to go. He knew you better than anyone.

When he caught up with you, you were residing in a tavern in a small cozy village near the edge of your father's land. You were always annoyed and scathing whenever he came to bring you back home, but this time, you were just sad, almost tearful. Jason demanded an explanation for your unusual disappearance, and the one he received almost made him shatter the pitcher in his hand. The courting season was swiftly approaching.

He knew of your fear and unwillingness to get pawned off for alliance and title. He was also aware that your parents were adamant in marrying you off before grow out of marrigable age.

Which is why your loyal guardian made you an offer. You stay in the village for its upcoming festival, relishing in last days of freedom without responsibility, before returning home. This offer served not only you, but Jason as well. He wanted to revel in your presence before returning to your old life where he was the knight and you were the noble.

In hinsight, he should've realized that was a mistake, because in these last few days he became aware of how smitten he'd become. It was all too easy to forget his duties when you were pretending to be a simple village girl.

You peroused the stalls, gawking at everything you saw and chatting his ear off. He watched you trying to eat the commoner food with your bare hands, hilariously failing. When they arrived in the square where the dance was held, you haven't hesitated before grabbing his hand and pulling him for a dance. Jason wanted to protest, but your bright smile convinced him. He twirled you amongst the townsfolk before he noticed familiar faces heading your way. The baron's soldiers, no doubt they were looking for you.

Quicker than you could react, Jason pulled you into a darkened corner, covering your body with his, pressing your lips together. He kissed you until he knew the guards were gone. He pulled away to apologize but before he could say anything you grabbed him by the lapels of his cloak and pressed your lips together again. You kissed him with sweetness and desperation that stole breath from his lungs, and Jason had no choice but to melt into you. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you impossibly close to him, your hands slipped from his cheeks to his hair.

He indulged little longer before letting voice of reason win, pulling away. Jason reminded you that you shouldn't be doing this, reminded you of your respective postitions. You didn't listened, instead, you uttered words Jason both wished and dreaded to hear.

You loved him.

He asked of you to never say these words to him again, and without another word he took your hand and led you back home as he tried to ignore your quiet sobs.

Despite your promises, he catches you trying to climb out over one of the garden walls during your courting ball. Jason wanted to strangle you, not that he enjoyed watching you dance with all those idiot nobles while all he wanted to do was to take you and carry you somewhere where there only be the two of you. This can't go on much longer, he has to end things tonight. Jason takes on a quest, to slay creatures in the southern forest. Surely you'll understand eventually...that the distance is good for both of you.

Months go by, and the pain the red knight felt when leaving you felt bearable. The other soldiers in his unit were curious as to why the infamous red knight left such prestigious position. Some speculated it was because the position was too peaceful and the dead son of Wayne was hungry for blood. If only they knew the true reason he left, but it was for the better. No one needs to know. One day, a messenger arrived, bearing a letter that stated there was an attack on the baron's family. The baron and his wife were badly injured and you were missing.

How was this possible?! You were supposed to be safe here! Without missing even a single second, Jason rode his horse tirelessly to the city. He will find you, and whoever took you will pay for every scratch he finds on you with their life. When he rescues you from your kidnappers, you're barely conscious. Gently, he pics up your weakened body and carefully carries you over the dead bodies lying everywhere. When he brings you back home, as he always done, he is adamant to never leave your side, no matter what takes. With heart full of determination, he asks, no, demands your hand in marriage. His name, his fief, his sword and his hearth, all of it is yours.

The baron is wise enough to give Sir Jason his blessings. After all, who's better for his daughter than a man who is able to set the world ablaze to safe her?

Art: Crown; Katerina Kirillova

Tags: @thinkingofausername, @fir3flytv, @ivysangel, @cherrrysstuff, @xxgoblin-dumplingxx, @mostly-imagines , @applejuicebegood

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd medieval au #knight!jason todd #knight x princess #medieval au #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd drabble #princess reader #the art is so cool you guys

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inkedinshadows · 4 months ago

Text

Where You Belong

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: last part of "A Helping Hand". When Y/N realizes Azriel is her mate, it's only a matter of who will admit it first.

Warnings: language if you really squint, Azzie being a little (just a little, I promise) cocky, but honestly who can blame him

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: here it is. Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like it! 💙

A Helping Hand (part 1), Echoes of the Bond (part 2) + Unraveling Truths (bonus)

֍֍֍֍֍

Y/N didn't see anyone until dinner.

She spent the day alone, roaming the family library in the House of Wind, sifting through the books until she found one that piqued her interest. From that moment on, she'd been curled up in one of the cushioned armchairs that dotted the room. Occasionally, thoughts of her last conversation with Azriel interrupted her reading, but she did her best to block them out. She didn't want to think about his mate.

Only when her stomach grumbled did she rise from her comfortable position. Placing the book on the table next to her seat, she left the library and headed toward the dining room.

Indistinct chatter was coming from inside, and she quickened her steps, a smile already on her face as she pushed the door open.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to Azriel, standing in a corner with Cassian and Rhysand. But before she could even consider taking a step in their direction, Feyre appeared in front of her.

“Y/N!” Her friend linked their arms to lead her toward the table. “I was just about to come looking for you. Sit next to me.”

Y/N obliged, and everyone slowly took their seats around the table. Though she noticed Lucien's presence seemed to make everyone a bit wary, the atmosphere was lighter with Feyre back with them. Rhys, who was sitting on his mate's other side, looked particularly relaxed.

As food appeared on the empty plates and conversations started around the table, Feyre turned to face her.

“I'm sorry I didn't greet you properly this morning,” she said. “But my mind was… elsewhere.”

Y/N peered over at Rhysand, who was talking to Lucien and Cassian but seemed to be listening to their conversation.

She looked back at Feyre with a smile. “I know, Fey. Don't worry about it. I'm just happy I have my friend back.”

Feyre returned her smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I am too. I was worried about you, you know. How are you adjusting to this life?”

Taking a bite of her food, Y/N used the few seconds to weigh how much to tell Feyre. She wouldn't usually hesitate – not with her, never with her – but maybe a family dinner right after she'd come back to the Night Court wasn't the right moment for this sort of talk.

“I struggled at the beginning,” she said finally, avoiding details for the moment. “But Azriel helped a lot, and I'm doing much better now.”

As if mentioning him was enough to summon his attention, she felt his eyes settle on her from the other end of the table. She met his gaze with a smile, and the corner of his lips twitched upwards in response.

“Azriel?” Feyre's surprised tone brought Y/N's mind back to her friend, and the Shadowsinger refocused on his own conversation. Y/N rubbed a little spot on her chest.

“I'm glad he helped,” Feyre continued. “And that you're doing okay.”

Y/N nodded and took another bite of her food, but her thoughts were already drifting back to the spymaster. Now that they were in the same room again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and she kept going back to that morning – Azriel’s words about his mate.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Feyre always had a knack for knowing when something was on her mind. Even when Y/N thought she was concealing her thoughts, the youngest Archeron could pick up on them.

“I was just wondering… how does it feel to have a mate?” Y/N asked, her gaze drifting back to Azriel for a moment before returning to Feyre. “I mean, what kind of bond is it?”

Feyre’s expression softened, her eyes settling on Rhysand, warmth shining in them. As if sensing it, the High Lord turned towards her with a smile that spoke volumes about his feelings for her.

“It’s a bond between souls,” Feyre finally answered. “Like an invisible thread binding two people, a tug toward each other. If two mates accept the bond, then they belong together.”

A tug. Y/N had been feeling a tug toward something for a while now. What if it was toward someone instead?

“Honestly, I hope you'll get to experience it one day,” her friend went on. “It's a connection on a new, deeper level. It's always there, even when you're apart.”

“I hope so too,” she murmured, her hand once more massaging her chest.

There was a pause as they both took a sip of their drinks, the conversation still buzzing around the table. Y/N's thoughts wandered back to Azriel, his quiet presence and the comfort he had provided. There was something more there, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

“Have you ever met Azriel's mate?” she said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

Feyre's brow furrowed in confusion. “He doesn't have a mate.”

Y/N's fork paused halfway to her mouth. “He told me he did,” she said slowly. Something dangerously close to hope stirred in her chest.

Feyre's frown deepened, and she shook her head slightly. “I had no idea.” She cast a glance at the Shadowsinger. “He never mentioned having a mate. I always assumed he didn’t.”

Y/N's heart raced as she processed the new information. Why would Azriel lie about something like that? She glanced down the table at him, her mind racing with questions.

A wisp of shadow curled around his ear, and his eyes slid toward her. He almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow, but this time she didn’t meet his gaze and looked down instead.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, more to herself than to Feyre. “Why would he tell me that?”

Feyre reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Maybe there's more to it than just that,” she suggested gently. “He’s quite reserved. I’m sure you’ve noticed that too.”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts a whirlwind. She knew Feyre was right. She needed to confront Azriel, to understand why he had lied to her or why he’d told the truth to her only and not to the others.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur, the Inner Circle and Lucien delving into a more serious discussion about war and High Lords, most of which Y/N didn’t really comprehend – even less so when her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Azriel and Feyre's words about the mating bond.

As they finished their meal and began to disperse, Y/N wished everyone goodnight and quickly slipped out of the dining room. She needed to be alone, a moment of quiet to think things through before talking to Azriel.

Because things didn’t really make sense right now.

Either Azriel had lied, or he really did have a mate. But if that was true, why didn’t his friends know? And why would he spend so much time with her and away from his mate?

His mate – the one he’d found just recently, who was as kind and gentle as she was, who he would leave behind every time Y/N needed help.

That last part didn’t sound much like the Azriel she'd gotten to know over the last few weeks, though.

With a sigh, Y/N closed the door to her bedroom and started getting ready for the night.

Tomorrow, she’d find Azriel. But for now, all she wanted was to turn off her thoughts, if such a thing was even possible.

Sliding under the bedsheets, she tossed and turned for a while, trying to keep her mind blank and fall asleep instead. But every time she thought she was about to enter the realm of dreams, some kind of insect would fly so close to brush her face and she had to bat it away constantly.

After what was probably the fourth time in just as many minutes, she groaned and finally opened her eyes to find the culprit.

It wasn't a fly, like she’d thought.

In the dim moonlight, she could just make out one of Azriel’s shadows hovering right over her nose. She’d gotten so used to their subtle presence in her room that she’d forgotten about it. But that tendril was definitely seeking her attention now, and she watched as it surged forward and gently brushed against her cheek.

Something slid into place inside of her.

Azriel's shadows had been with her since she'd been given this room. They seemed to like her, and judging by Cassian’s reaction that morning, it wasn't common to be favored by the dark companions of the Shadowsinger.

And then there was that tug that Feyre had mentioned – a tug toward each other. She had felt it often during the last three weeks and it always seemed to grow stronger when Azriel was close.

It's always there, even when you're apart. She could feel it now too, like a thrumming presence next to her heart.

What had Azriel said about his mate? That Y/N reminded him of her, that they were a lot alike… and that he'd found her recently.

Just like she had met Azriel only recently.

She jolted upright as realization settled upon her.

But… could it be true? Could it really be that she was the mate Azriel had mentioned? The signs were there, yet he hadn't said anything about it. Not even that morning, when she had blatantly asked if he had one.

Every remnant of doubt and uncertainty faded away when she noticed the rising darkness in the room. From the tiny cracks on the floor and the little gaps under the furniture, shadows were now slithering out of their hiding spots to gather at the foot of her bed, seemingly writhing in what she thought was excitement. The lone tendril that had woken her caressed her cheek once more.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled, waving it away. “I get it. He’s my mate.”

The solitary strand stilled its movements, and she took the chance to shoot it a warning look, though she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “Now let me sleep, okay? I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

She was now too tired to go looking for Azriel’s room. She didn’t even know if he was in his room anyway. Besides, this was not a conversation she wanted to have when her mind was a bit sleepy. Better to let the realization fully settle in and deal with it in the morning.

The shadows seemed to understand, because they halted their swirling, and even the stray tendril drew back, returning to the pool of darkness next to her bed.

Y/N lay back down and closed her eyes again. A small smile still graced her lips when she finally fell asleep.

She woke up only a few hours later, her breath gasping and Azriel’s name on her tongue.

A nightmare, nothing more. She tried to calm down, silently repeating it in her head. It was just a nightmare.

But she had to check on Azriel. Her stomach was clutched by an uneasiness that she couldn’t shake. Yet she didn’t move.

It was the middle of the night. Surely Azriel was sleeping by now, and she didn’t want to disturb him, not for something as silly as a nightmare. He’d done enough for her already.

She tried to go back to sleep, to ignore that invisible thread that was pulling at her chest and the thoughts that kept drifting back to Azriel. But every effort seemed useless.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair. The shadows seemed to stir on the floor as if knowing she was considering getting up.

She had no idea where Azriel’s room was. But after realizing they were mates and now the nightmare… she had to see him. It was like a physical need, nudging her to go.

As soon as she rose from her bed, a single wisp of shadow flew from the floor to her, curling around her wrist. She had a feeling she knew exactly which tendril it was.

The bond seemed to pulse in her chest as she headed for the door. But once she was outside, she didn’t know where to go. Nesta and Elain were in the same hallway, but what about Azriel? Maybe he wasn’t even on the same floor, for all she knew.

The bracelet of darkness tugged her toward the left end of the hallway, and she looked down with a frown. It did it again.

“You want me to go in that direction?” she whispered, taking a single, tentative step.

A third tug.

This was a potentially bad idea. She should have stayed in bed. Azriel was no doubt sleeping, and she would only bother him.

Yet her feet moved, and she didn’t fight the shadow as it guided her through the hallways.

~~~~~~

Azriel knew Y/N had left her room the moment she closed the door behind her thanks to his shadows. What he hadn't expected was that she was coming here, yet a few tendrils curled around his ear, whispering the same word over and over.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

A moment later, he heard her soft footsteps down the hallway. They stopped right outside his door.

He waited for her to knock, but when no sound came, he debated whether he should go open the door and let her know he was aware of her presence.

Just as he stood up, three light and quick taps on the wood resonated in the room.

Azriel swallowed. Maybe this could be his chance to tell her about the mating bond.

He walked up to the door, opening it to reveal Y/N, barefoot and clad only in her nightgown. She was fidgeting with her hands and he could bet he heard her hold her breath when she saw him.

“Did I wake you?”

Azriel glanced down at the Illyrian leathers he was still wearing. “No,” he answered with a small smile.

Only at that moment did he realize a shadow was wrapped around her wrist, just like that morning. Knowing it had been caught, the stray tendril flew back to hover around his wings with the others. His dark companions seemed to be as captivated by her as their master was.

Azriel took a better look at her. She was beautiful, even with her unbound hair a bit tousled on one side of her head. That detail, and the fact that she hadn’t bothered wearing slippers, told him she had slept – at least for a while. But judging by her fidgeting and her presence here, something was gnawing at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, moving to the side in a silent invite to step in. “Did you have a nightmare?”

She didn't hesitate to walk past him. “Yes.”

Her sweet scent filled his nostrils, clouding his mind so much that he barely heard her answer. She was looking at him now, her brows furrowed.

“I thought you didn't have them anymore,” he finally replied.

“Not usually, but… this one was different.” He didn't miss the tension in her voice, or how she was avoiding his gaze. “It was about you, Azriel.”

His eyes widened. If she was upset about something, if he'd maybe hurt her in her dreams… but she probably wouldn't be looking for him if that was the case, right?

“It was about that day in Hybern,” she went on. “But I wasn't being pushed into the Cauldron. It was…”

When her voice trailed off and she didn't continue, Azriel stepped closer to her and gently brushed her arm. For someone who'd lived for more than five hundred years, he wasn't sure how to act around her. He didn't know if he was allowed to touch her to comfort her, despite the help he'd already offered her multiple times. Things were different now.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he said gently. “You don't need to tell me.”

But she shook her head. “You were dead,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “In the dream, you… you were dead and I couldn't do anything.”

Before he even knew what he was doing, Azriel wrapped her in his arms. He stroked her hair, his shadows joining in and swirling through her locks.

“I'm alright. It was just a nightmare,” he whispered. He felt a sob tear through her body, and for a horrible moment he thought she'd shrink back into herself like weeks ago.

And so Azriel kept murmuring soothing words while he held her close, to prevent her from turning again into a shell of herself or having another panic attack.

Yet when Y/N pulled away just enough to look up at him, her eyes were dry. Azriel could get lost in their depths.

“I know what you are, Az,” she said, and time seemed to slow as his mind came up with all the different possibilities of what she meant.

But what she said after wasn't one of them.

“I know you're my mate.”

Time stopped completely. Azriel froze, his shadows with him, halting their swaying around her.

He seemed to watch in slow motion as she brought up a hand to cup his cheek. As her eyes softened and a smile appeared on her face.

Maybe this was all some kind of dream. Maybe he'd fallen asleep without realizing. But his shadows were whispering to him again.

Real. Real. This is real.

Azriel let himself enjoy it then. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. His hand came up to cradle hers, a small sigh leaving his lips as he relaxed.

“You are my mate.”

How she knew, Azriel had no idea. He knew for a fact his brothers and Amren – the only ones who had figured it out – wouldn't tell her before he could. And if Y/N had pieced it together herself, it still wouldn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was that she was here now, and she didn't seem upset or angry.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” he finally replied. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him.

The sight threatened to make him crumble. He wanted to pull her closer and kiss that soft smile.

Y/N just shrugged. “It's alright. I'm not sure I would have understood it if you'd told me sooner.” Her thumb brushed against his cheek before she stepped back, and Azriel reluctantly let go of her hand and mimicked her movement.

“But you could have told me this morning,” she added, her tone amused. “When I asked if you had a mate.”

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair as he offered her a small, nervous smile. “You caught me off guard. It doesn't happen often.”

“Oh?” she chuckled, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He even forgot to say something else.

Instead, he reached for the bond he'd kept buried deep down and let it come back to the surface. He gave it a tentative, gentle tug and watched as Y/N tensed and her eyes widened, her hand going to that spot he'd seen her rub multiple times already.

A moment later, he felt her tug back. And knowing she wasn't running away from it, from him, he closed the distance between them once more. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back and earning a small gasp in return. The need to kiss her was taking over his senses and he struggled to keep control.

Normally he'd go for it, the fact that Y/N didn't pull away and instead seemed to wait for his next move enough to tell him she wasn't going to reject him. And if she were any other girl, he'd do it. But with her, he needed to be sure. He didn't want to rush anything.

“Do you still think what you said earlier?” he asked in a hushed tone. “That my mate was lucky to have me?”

“I'm only more convinced of it now that I know it's me,” she murmured. Her smile lit up her whole face as she moved even closer. “I'm lucky to have you.”

For the first time in centuries, Azriel was feeling overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by her scent now permeating his room, by their bodies brushing against each other, by the mating bond finally out in the open and not hidden in the depths of his soul.

“No, I'm the lucky one to have you, Y/N.”

Their eyes met again and he was about to ask her if he could kiss her – Cauldron, he might even beg for it – when her gaze dropped to his lips. He waited one heartbeat, two, but when she still hadn't looked up by the third one, it was both the confirmation and permission Azriel needed.

With his hand still cradling the back of her head, he pulled her closer while he leaned down. They met halfway and Azriel’s first thought was that he would gladly stay like this forever.

Her lips were soft and warm, and they parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. He felt her hands on his chest and his wings rustled quietly behind him, an involuntary reaction to her touch.

His fingers tightened in her hair and when she moaned softly against his mouth, Azriel knew he was a goner.

But Y/N pulled back, the absence of her lips on his like a sudden emptiness in his heart.

Her cheeks had taken on a light shade of pink that made him smile. He was so lost drinking her in that he almost missed the words she whispered.

“Stay with me tonight.”

His smile widened. “You're in my room, Y/N.”

“Right.” She chuckled even as she blushed, the sight endearing. “Then let me stay with you for tonight.”

Azriel tucked her hair behind her ear. “You can stay with me every time you want. Every night, if that's what you wish.” He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her lips. “Wait in bed. I just need to get changed.”

She nodded and stepped back, his hand falling away from her cheek.

As he moved towards his drawer, the shuffle of the sheets brought a smile to his lips. He fought the urge to turn and see her lying in his bed. His mate, in his bed. Something he had almost stopped hoping for, after so many centuries.

Eager to join her, he quickly took off his Illyrian leathers to replace them with his sleeping pants.

He didn't need his shadows to whisper in his ear to know she was watching him. He paused just as he was reaching for the shirt and lifted his head instead.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a teasing not in his voice.

The only answer he got was a low mumble that he couldn't quite make out, which only made his smile widen. Cauldron, he really wanted to turn around and see her face. He was ready to bet she was blushing.

Deciding against wearing his shirt – definitely not because he was a smug bastard who wanted to see her reaction – he turned and walked towards the bed.

He was rewarded by Y/N quickly looking away, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red as she lay back down.

Azriel chuckled, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. A part of him felt a twinge of guilt, maybe he should have donned the shirt to spare her the embarrassment. But he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing her flustered.

With a swift movement, he joined her under the bedsheets. “Y/N,” he called gently. “You know you don't have to shy away, right?”

He ran a hand down her spine and felt her shiver through the thin fabric of her nightgown. “You're my mate,” he continued. “You can look as much as you want.”

She scooted over until her back was pressed against his chest. Azriel immediately wrapped her in his arms and relished in the way her body seemed to fold into his, like that's where she belonged.

“Those are dangerous words, Azriel,” she warned. He could hear amusement in her voice and he knew she was smiling.

“Why?”

She intertwined their fingers and, to his greatest shock, brought them up to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.

It had been decades since Azriel had learned to accept his hands and his scars, decades since he'd stopped hiding them with gloves or in his pockets. He'd done horrible and unspeakable things with those hands, but to protect his court – his family – he'd do them again. And yet to have Y/N, his mate, openly kissing them so tenderly…

He wasn't sure he was breathing.

His shadows curled around his ear, whispering something about an answer, and he realized Y/N had turned her head to look at him. She was frowning, the expression creating a small crease between her brows that he had never noticed before.

“You didn't hear what I said, did you?”

Azriel felt a heat creep up his cheeks. “Sorry,” he murmured.

She only smiled, turning around again. “I said that I might not stop looking then.”

His arms held her tighter, pulling her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. As he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, he whispered, “You're very beautiful too, Y/N. I've had a hard time not staring at you since the moment I met you.”

With their joined hands resting close to her chest, Azriel could feel her heartbeat increase. Grinning from ear to ear, he waited as she shifted a bit like she was debating whether to turn around in his arms or not. But she eventually settled against him again and murmured a thank you.

Shying away from compliments, then. He would remember that. And he would shower her with compliments until she too believed she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on.

He wanted to start now, to make her turn around and kiss her again till their lips were swollen. Instead, he draped his wing over them, creating a little cocoon of darkness and warmth where only the two of them existed.

“It’s quite late,” he murmured against her neck. “We should sleep.”

She hummed in agreement. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

“Goodnight.”

He closed his eyes, ready for the long hours it usually took him to fall asleep. It wasn't until he heard her voice again that he realized he was already falling into a peaceful slumber.

“Az?”

“Mh?”

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible even in the silence of the night. “This morning, when Cassian mentioned having the biggest wingspan and you snapped… is that a mate related thing, or just Illyrian?”

He had no idea how she'd come up with such a question at this hour. Smiling at her innocent curiosity, he tried not to let his mind wander into dangerous territory.

“I'll explain another time,” he mumbled. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”

She giggled, the sound like music to his ears. And with his mate in his arms – her scent filling his nose, her hair tickling his neck, her soft body pressed so perfectly against his – he knew he wanted to sleep like this every night.

After centuries of searching, Azriel had finally found the place he belonged.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy

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Read the bonus scene here!

A Helping Hand Tags: @myromanempiree @loving-and-dreaming @satttanx @a-courtof-azriel @randomdumsblog @whistle1whistle @thecraziestcrayon @tinystarfishgalaxy @jesskidding3 @starlitlakes

#azriel #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sjm #azriel × reader #fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #fluff #shadowsinger #feyre archeron #inner circle #rhysand #azriel fanfic

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

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family fights- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! norris! reader

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He’d done it again. Another win. Oscar Piastri was a two-time GP winner.

And no one could ever take this one away from him.

Over the past few weekends, he’d been pretty down about everything. Hungary, the whole ‘papaya rules’ bullshit, and how everyone had something to say about Monza. He’s a fucking racecar driver, and he wasn’t a second driver. It’s in his goddamn contract, thanks to Mark. And anyways, why would he pull over and let Lando take points from him, when he’s so close to P3 in the Driver’s standings? Charles is slowly but surely trying to build a gap, and Oscar is not planning on making it easy for him. It’s his second fucking season of F1, and he’s matching his teammate. Is that not something to be proud of?

Apparently not in Lando’s fan girls’ eyes. It’s pathetic really, the memes were funny a while ago, and now it’s all getting to be too much.

And then there’s you. Lando’s sweet little sister who loved Oscar more than life itself. You’d gotten him through the lows of the past few weeks, with just a smile his way.

But Lando wouldn't let you two be together. It was a ‘betrayal’, in his mind.

It was bullshit. Lando liked having something over him, and you were the ‘thing’ in this scenario. You’d liked Oscar for ages, and you started in secret, too scared to tell Lando. You continued like that for a whole year, somehow hiding it seamlessly. It was the best relationship either of you had ever been in. You matched each other perfectly, and you got to see him everyday, since Lando had brought you on as his physio. Stolen kisses behind closed doors was a-ok with you two, until Lando had to walk into something he wasn’t supposed to. It was your anniversary night and yes, maybe you should’ve checked that the door was properly locked, but when he was kissing you like that? Who would be able to find it in themselves to care? For some reason, Lando walked into your apartment, ready to tell you off for not locking your door, and he found you and Oscar asleep in your bed, 1 year anniversary cards on the counter, and a bottle of wine beside the sink. On the drying rack there were 2 clean plates, two sets of cutlery, two glasses, one bowl, and two spoons. He was so angry. He just stormed in and started screaming at the two of you, telling you that you’d betrayed him for a whole year, making accusations left and right, and generally just ruining your perfect night.

Then he gave the both of you an ultimatum. Date and lose him as a brother and a friend, or break up and he’d never speak about it again. You two could be friends, but always at a healthy distance.

It took you both a week to make the decision. You were both crying when you called him to tell him you’d broken up. His response? Good.

He barely talked to either of you for a month, and you truly feared the worst for your relationship with him. But, in true Lando fashion, one day he just started to be normal again, and everything was ok.

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Oscar still remembered the way you looked when he'd made the choice to go behind Lando's back. You were wearing your favourite dress, you hair styled perfectly, your nails done, your makeup done, everything. It was for some boring gala that Oscar didn't want to sit through, and neither did you. Though nevertheless you went as the dutiful sister you were and made polite conversation with the gross old dudes who wouldn't leave you alone, and Oscar (he hoped he wasn't grouped in with them).

"Do you want to get some air?" he offered as you finished up a conversation with Christian Horner.

"I'd love to," you nodded, somehow keeping the soft smile on your face.

You burst out of the hall laughing, having run away from Lando. You got on well with Oscar. He was lovely, honestly. "He's going to kill us," you laughed, grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself.

"Worth it," he smirked.

You two spent some time outside, eventually ending up outside in the cold French air. You two somehow ended up intertwined on a bench outside the venue.

"I really enjoyed sneaking off with you," you beamed at him.

"I really enjoyed it too," he blushed. "We should do it again some time."

You laughed. "I think Lando will kill us if we pull that again-"

You stopped talking because he'd started kissing you, and you didn't want him to stop.

"I like you," he pulled back. "A lot."

It was so juvenile you almost laughed. Yet, you found yourself answering with; "I like you too."

And thus began your year-long love.

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To be honest, Oscar hated clubs. He hated the sweaty air, the suffocating closeness of everyone, and the heavy drinking. Oscar didn’t drink much, mainly a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, or a celebration drink when there was something to celebrate. He wasn’t a huge fan of feeling out of control.

Despite all of that, he’d somehow been convinced by Lando to go ‘out on the town’. He didn’t want to go out on the town. He wanted to stay home, or bump into you in the cinema near your shared apartment building. You two had been doing that a lot lately, bumping into each other there. You’d sit together, or a few chairs apart, but it’d feel a bit like before you’d broken up. It felt good.

You missed him dearly, as he did you. He knew you were going to see a special midnight showing of Psycho, yet he couldn’t even go because Lando dragged him out.

“Mate!” Lando shouted from the other side of the VIP booth.

“What?” Oscar asked, walking up to him.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Lando, being the prick he is, signalled to a girl in the middle of the dance floor that looked nothing like you. “Look, she’s nothing like Y/n! It’s perfect!”

Oscar felt his blood boil, and finally spill over. “Fuck off Lando. That’s not fair-”

“What’s not fair was the fact that you dated my little sister behind my back!” He shot back.

Oscar grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of the club, into the humid Monaco air. This back alley was usually used for a smoke break, but tonight it would be used as a fucking ring.

“I’m not expecting you to understand anything I'm going to say, but fuck you Lando. I loved Y/n- I love Y/n, and you took that all away from me because of what?! You felt betrayed? You felt bad? It was overwhelming? We’ve proven that we’re not awkward if we break up, we’re actually ridiculously civil, all for your sake! You’re the one being unfair here. Yes, maybe we should’ve told you earlier. Yes, maybe it was wrong to keep it from you, but for fuck’s sake man! She’s your little sister, I’m your friend, it’s not like you don’t know us! I’d never do anything to hurt her, and she’d never use me, or whatever bullshit excuse you gave me. Now, I know you don’t fucking understand this, but I love her. More than anything in the entire fucking world. More than racing, more than anything. She’s what gets me through the shitty days and even shittier races. Knowing that, once I get out of the car, she’ll be standing there with a smile, or a hug on the occasions where you don’t watch us like a fucking hawk, makes it all fucking worth it for me. You took that away from me, and you took it away from her. It ate at her the entire year we were together that she couldn’t tell you, because well, of course it would! You are her older brother, her best friend. She should’ve been able to tell you about her boyfriend. She questioned herself after every day we spent together, every date we went on, about whether or not what we were doing was right. She felt so guilty. I felt so guilty. But at the end of the day when I saw her waiting for me in my driver’s room, or my apartment, or at the foot of the podium, I knew that what I felt was right. And it wasn’t just me feeling it Lan, she loved me back,” he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “So no, I don’t want to meet someone at a club, I want Y/n. My Y/n. And I don’t give a fuck if you’re upset by that, because I’ve given you every reason to trust me Lando, and I promise you, I’ll never try to hurt her. I’ll keep her safe, and above all, I’ll love her.”

Lando was taken aback. He was a lot more sober now. He’d never seen Oscar show so much emotion. He’d never seen Oscar show much emotion, point blank. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, crying over his little sister. “Mate, what do you mean?”

“I means you’re a fucking asshole Lando, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want me to date Y/n. It means I’m going to ask her out again, and if she says yes I won’t stop just because you’re a dickhead who can’t stomach the fact that she loves me, and I love her.”

Lando was again, taken aback. He’d never really had a reason as to why he didn’t like you and Oscar dating, it just felt… weird to him. Then, with about a moment's worth of self-reflection, he realised. He didn’t want to be second to Oscar. All his life, you’d been his biggest supporter, you two were always together, always there for each other, always his little sister. From cradle, to karting, coffin, he thought he’d be the only driver you supported and cared about. Then, in came Oscar, being everything he wanted to be; cool, calm, collected, talented, unprideful, gracious, and kind. Everything he worked to be. It had taken Lando 6 years to get a win, Oscar did it in his first year. It took Lando 2 years to get a podium, Oscar did it in his debut season. “Well it’s just not right,” Lando shot back. “She’s my little sister, and I’m not being second to you with her! That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to choose you over me!”

“She chose you! She broke up with me because you asked her to! I don’t know what the fuck you think is going to happen if we start dating again, but it’s not like we’ll just abandon you Lando! She’s your sister, and she loves you more than life itself! For fuck’s sake, if this was all about being scared that she’d pick me over you, we could’ve sorted this out weeks ago!”

“I have to be second place to a fucking rookie! Do you know how that feels? Bad, Oscar, it feels bad. And now you want to come here and tell me that I’m second place to that same rookie, in my sister’s opinion? Y’know how that feels? Worse!” Lando was crying now, unable to control it. “I’ve been second to someone my whole fucking life, and Y/n was the one person who understood me! And now you want to take her away!”

“I’m not taking her away, Lando! We’re both still going to be here for you!” Oscar took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take your frustrations on the track out on her, she’s the one suffering for it. You’re suffering for it too, and so am I. Lando, she loves you no matter what, you know that.” “I’m scared alright?” He groaned. “I’m scared that one day I’ll turn around after an interview and see her celebrating you winning over me! I’m scared that she’ll see I’m not as good as you! I’m scared.”

“You can be scared all you want, but she isn’t like that, Lando. Talk to her about this, she’ll reassure you-”

“And how the fuck would you know? You barely know her-”

“I know her a lot better than you do if this is what you think of her,” Oscar’s words cut through the tension in the warm air. Lando flinched like he’d been hit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me from this shitty night out, I’m going to go find your sister and tell her how I feel. Goodbye Lando.”

Oscar didn’t even bother going back inside to grab his coat, he just started walking. Jimmy’s was a 30 minute walk from your regular cinema, and if his calculations were correct, you’d be getting out of the screening just then.

As he walked he thought about everything Lando had said. It was pathetic, honestly, why couldn’t Lando have just told you how he felt instead of ruining the incredible thing you and Oscar had going with his own insecurities. Maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe Lando just hadn’t experienced what you two had.

“Oscar?” you walked up to him, smiling.

“Hi,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.

“How are you?” you asked, awkward tension filling the air.

“I’m… I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained.

“Talk away,” you smiled.

“Well… Lando and I had this big blow up argument, and I made a choice. I don’t care what he wants anymore, and if he has a problem with me loving you, then it’s his problem, not ours. I want you back Y/n, more than anything. I miss you every fucking day. And if the only reason we’re not together is because of him, then I’m forgetting how he feels. I want you back if you’ll have me.”

You stood there, shocked. It had been 4 months since you and Oscar had broken up. You loved him, but you loved your brother too. You couldn’t put your relationship with your brother at risk for Oscar, could you? Lando had been for you throughout your childhood, a constant. You wouldn’t be able to handle him not being there, would you? “Oscar, when did you two argue-?” “30 minutes ago?” he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips.

“I-oh wow. Osc, you know I love you, but Lando’s my brother and… I can’t betray him, can I?”

“Is it betrayal?” Oscar questioned.

You’d been trying to figure out for the past 4 months why it was betrayal, yet you came up blank every time. Lando had dated friends of yours, and broken their hearts, why shouldn’t you return the favour? “But he said it was. He’s my brother Osc… I can’t just… ruin our relationship-”

“He ruined ours!” he sighed, exasperated. “All because he’s a insecure prick, no offence-” “None taken-” “And he was scared you’d stop picking him over me, which I understand but like, for fuck’s sake, he could’ve just spoken to you about it!”

You thought for a moment. What did you want? Oscar. Always. You woke up thinking about him, fell asleep thinking about him, dreamt of him. He was everything you’d ever wanted. “Are we really going to do this Osc?” you whispered into the darkness of the night.

His lips turned into a smile, and then they were on yours. He’d gotten the girl, he’d gotten the win, and he didn’t care what anyone else said.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 fluff #lando x reader #lando norris x publicist reader #lando norris x reader angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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alastor-simp · 10 months ago

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La Vie en Rose🌹 - Alastor X Reader

Requested by @hitherethea

"Ugh FML!" Groaning out loud, your body was slowly making its way to somewhere quiet. Today was a very unlucky day, as there was many mishaps that left you feeling frustrated and emotionally drained. Earlier in the morning, you dropped a few plates while putting them away for Niffty. Niffty said it was fine and cleaned up the mess, but it left you feeling extremely guilty. After that incident, you were tasked with getting some groceries for the kitchen, only to being catcalled and nearly sexually harassed by some grotesque reptile demons once you started to head back to the hotel. Nothing happened to you physically, but god, why do some people have to be so gross?! Once you got back, your head got nearly speared by Vaggie on accident when you walked in through the door. She wasn't aiming for you thankfully, she was trying to hit Sir Pentious after he accidentally blasted her favorite ribbon with a laser gun. She grabbed the spear and ran away to catch Sir Pentious, yelling out an apology to you as she chased after a screaming snake slithering down the hallway.

Lord you couldn't catch a break. Your only place of sanctuary was the porch in your room. The view always helped you relaxed and the breeze was nice, despite the mass pollution in the air. Entering your room, you slowly made your way to the porch. The sky was covered in stars, but instead of pitch black, it was a dark vermilion. Well, this was Hell, so it was better then nothing. Heaving a sigh, you moved to one of the chairs on the porch and took a seat, throwing your head back as you tried to relax from the migraine that was starting to form. A few minutes went by as you continued to lean back in the chair, listening to the sounds of the cars screeching below and people yelling profanities at one another. "Why the long face my dear?" A static voice appeared next to your head, causing you to jolt and nearly fall off the chair. Looking up, you see a certain deer demon, leaning down due to his tall height, smiling like a jester at your reaction. "Not funny Al." Grumbling from your position, you got up and sat back properly in your seat. Alastor stood up to his normal position, and broke into a fit of laughter, probably still finding your reaction hilarious. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! I didn't expect you to take a tumble!" He made his way over to the other chair and sat down, placing his microphone against the wall, before turning to you with his legs crossed and hands on his lap. Finding his response ridiculous, you rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. You enjoy scaring the crap out of everyone."

Shrugging his shoulders, he continued to stare at you, smiling widely. "Anyhoo! What seems to be troubling you, my dear?" Alastor asked you, as he continued to stare at you. His sharp smile turn to a more soft grin as he awaited your response. Sighing again, your eyes turn back to gaze at the view. "Not a very good day today. I made a mess for Niffty, almost got raped by some gross lizard-like demons when I left the grocery store, and then the icing on the cake was getting nearly speared by Vaggie from her chasing after Sir Pentious." Alastor continued to listen to you, his face changing a bit from slight sadness to extreme anger, especially when you mentioned the demons who tried to assault you. Looks like he has some hunting to do later. He may be a serial killer, but any inappropriate actions towards a lady infuriates him. Pushing his feelings of carnage away, he continued to stare at you. Your body was slouched on the chair as your eyes continued to stare at the sky. Instead of the kind smile you usually wore, it was replaced with a somber frown. Moving his hand slowly, he placed his clawed hand on your head, giving you a slight rub. He wasn't use to acts of affection, so this was the best he could offer. "Is there something I can do to make that frown of yours turn back into a smile?" Surprised by Al's words, you looked back at him. He was still smiling, but he was staring at you with kind eyes. You found it sweet that he wanted to cheer you up instead of leaving you alone in your negative emotions. Thinking long and hard about what you wanted, you came to a conclusion.

"Um, could you sing for me perhaps?" Al nearly froze at your request. Out of all the things you wanted, you wanted to hear him sing? Oh what a charming doll you were! Alastors smile grew tremendously, almost to the point it broke his face. Grabbing his microphone, he turned to you, positively joyful at your request. "My my! What an adorable request! Now then! What song would you like me to sing my dear? Request away!" Alastor was beaming at you. He was surprisingly cute like this, but you wouldn't tell him that. Any song? This was tough. You knew he was a fan of oldies and jazz and detested some music genres. Soon you came up with the perfect song for him to sing to you. Blushing at him, you looked away from him, twirling your hair with your fingers. "La vie en rose, please." Alastor was actually surprised at your choice, as he tilted his head. "Why that particular song, my dear?" You looked back at him, face flushed. "Well, I heard that you knew how to speak French, so I kinda wanted to see if it was true or not." Twiddling your fingers, you continued to stare at Al, who was still smiling. "Can you really? Speak French, I mean?" Alastor nodded his head: "Oui mon cher!" Oh no, that made your heart race. Al's voice was already amazing as it was, now you get to hear him sing to you in French?! Someone better pinch you to make sure this is not a dream.

Clearing his throat, Alastor adjusted his position, placing his mic in front of him, as he was preparing for his small performance for you.

youtube

(Credit to Paranoid Dj on Youtube for this awesome cover)

🎶𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑠

𝑄𝑢'𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑠

𝐽𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑'𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟

𝐷𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑐̧𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒́ 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟

𝑈𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑢𝑟

𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑗𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒

𝐶'𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑚𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒

𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑙'𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑙'𝑎 𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒́ 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒

𝐸𝑡 𝑑𝑒̀𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑒 𝑙'𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐̧𝑜𝑖𝑠

𝐴𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑗𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑖

𝑀𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖 𝑏𝑎𝑡🎶

Two words, HOLY S***! His voice was incredible! The whole time during his performance, you were blushing madly, but also it felt like all the frustration you were feeling before slowly diminished. Singing out the last of the lyrics, a sound of applause radiated from his microphone. "Enjoyed the performance, darling?" Alastor looked back at you, noticing your flushed face and wide eyes. "Darling?" Alastor tilted his head at you, confused at your reaction. Breaking from your trance, you started nodding rapidly. "Yes! I enjoyed your performance very much!" Satisfied that you enjoyed it, Alastor gave a nod, as he placed his microphone back to where he left it. Looking back at you, he raised his hand and grabbed your chin with his fingers. "Feeling better, chérie?" His ruby eyes gazed into yours, almost as if he was staring into your soul. Heat rose to your cheeks as you suspected you were as red as his hair. "Y-es I am. Thank you again Al." No longer feeling upset about the day, your emotions improved and you gave Al a warm smile. Humming with approval, Al still held your chin, but not before leaning closer to the point your noses were touching. "Wonderful my dear! Glad your smile has returned especially since you are never fully dressed without one! If you desire another performance in the future, seek me out."

Goosebumps began to form on your skin, as you continued to stare at Al. He is so close!!! Tongue-tied, you nodded your head. Pleased with your response, Al let go of your chin and stood up from the chair, adjusting his suit and hair. He remembered his previous mission, before he sang to you. Feelings of wrath and rage bubbled inside him, but he hid it as not to alarm you. "Well then! I have some business to attend to at the moment! Have a good evening my dear!" Alastor bid you a farewell, as he diminished in a black shadow, and disappeared from your eyes. Watching Al leave, you covered your face with your hands. It was true you were no longer feeling upset about today, but now you were starting to feel other emotions. Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweating. What was this feeling? It wasn't fear, cause you knew you weren't scared of Alastor, so what was it? Admiration? Or was it something else?

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wanda-widow · 8 months ago

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Post-Mission

Grumpy!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 832

Summary: Bucky has always been one to try and pull away from people who care about him. However, you're always one to be insistent and care for him anyways, no matter what he says.

18+ MDNI

Warnings: slight angst, implied smut if you squint your eyes, fluff

Like and reblog if you wish 💗

Hearing footsteps shuffle down the hall along with the sound of a dragging duffle was all you needed to know that Bucky was back from his week long mission. Hopping off the bed and peeking your head out of your shared bedroom, you saw Bucky scrub a weary hand down his face. You instantly frowned, worried as you hurried over to him, taking the duffle out of his hands.

“How was the mission? Are you hurt anywhere? We should get you some food, you look exhausted” you said while rushing back to the room to unpack his gear as he let out a sigh, silently chucking off his boots before face planting on the bed.

“Bucky?” came your worried voice after you put his boots into the closet, sitting on the bed next to him and poking his shoulder. “Bucky, get up. Shower, eat, and then rest.” you urged, poking him again when his vibranium hand shot out to grip your wrist.

“Let me sleep” he said gruffly before shifting on the bed so that his back was turned to you, leaving you rubbing your wrist softly. You knew he wasn’t too responsive after missions since it took so much out of him, not that he was one for words or self care anyways. Still, you took it upon yourself to make sure he was cared for.

“Please? I’ll make you plum croissants tomorrow if you just shower and eat” you tried again, scooting closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder as you felt him sigh again before sitting up.

“Eat and then shower” he said, running a hand through his hair as he made his way to one of the compound communal kitchens, sitting down on one of the stools as he waited for you expectantly.

“Grilled cheese?” you offered, slotting yourself in the opening between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he nodded, fingers trailing down your arm as you pulled away. You could feel his gaze follow you as you bustled around the kitchen to make his food. “Go shower and then you can eat after” you said softly, turning around to look at him as he frowned, reaching out to tug you by the wrist back into his proximity.

“Thought you would shower with me” he said softly, letting his walls down while no one else was around. You felt his hands come to rest on your waist, forehead between your breasts as he pressed a kiss through your clothes.

“Another time, I promise” you laughed softly, letting your hands run through his hand before stopping at his shoulders, letting one hand trail down his vibranium arm. He let out a quiet whine before getting off the stool, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You watched as he went back to the room to shower before turning back to the sandwich, humming softly.

20 minutes later, Bucky was freshly showered and seated at the counter once more, gaze still fixed on you as you plated his sandwich and sat next to him. He ate in silence for a while as you observed the new wounds on his back. Finding some gauze and neosporin, you began to bandage them gently.

“They’re shallow but-”

“They’re nothing” Bucky cut you off but made no move to stop you from patching him up. After placing the last piece of medical tape, he turned in his stool to face you, the both of you exchanging silent conversation before he got up to wash his plate.

“If you keep going on long missions, you’re just gonna keep destroying yourself, Buck” you said quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. It became more apparent that the past couple months, he just drew further into himself with each mission, determined to block out the pain with endless fighting.

“I’m just helping the team” he said tersely, putting his dish in the drying rack before he walked back to the room, expecting you to follow behind him. You stood there for a moment, willing for the emotions to fade, to appreciate that he was here.

Your legs moved in habit, walking to your shared bedroom and flicking off the light before sliding under the covers with him. You could still hear his breaths, short and controlled. He wasn’t asleep.

After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. “I don’t mean it, doll. The rudeness, the violence. I’m trying.”

“Bucky…” you started quietly but stopped when you felt the bed shift, a heavy weight now resting across your waist, shallow puffs of breath ghosting across your collarbone.

“I’ll take a month break, spend time with you?” he half offered, half begged, the grip on your waist tightening.

“James…”

“Only time with you. No one else unless really needed” he whispered, his leg shifting to now rest over yours, lips gently sucking at the base of your neck, smirking when he felt you cave.

“How does Bali sound?”

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writersdrug · 3 months ago

Text

Tea and Cigarettes

Chapter 1. Tea Party

Masterlist

Summary: Out for a late-night walk to clear his head, Simon stumbles across an open bakery. All he wants is a tea. Instead, he gets a tea party.

Warnings: mild cursing, reader doesn't do the smartest thing in this situation

It was a common thought in Simon’s head, if not the most common. He shouldn’t have survived that mission.

It’s what was engrained into his head from the very first mission he’d been a part of. It’s what he repeated to himself at the end of every mission thereafter. Lady Luck was too forgiving and magnanimous to him – he should have been killed long ago, well before he reached his thirties and climbed up the ranks to lieutenant. It’s one thing when you have something to fight for, to come home to – it’s another when you have nothing but an undecorated flat.

And, for tonight, a cup of tea.

It was another night between missions; another restless moment in time where Simon found himself walking the streets of the city, rather than trying to get some shut eye. It wouldn’t have worked anyways – it never did. His neurons were too busy firing off at every mistake, every memory, every single thing that haunts him, for him to get a restful sleep.

So that’s what brought him here: standing inside a bakery late at night, staring at the toddler behind the cashier’s counter. His overactive thoughts had certainly taken a backseat to the one, prominent question in his mind; who the hell is this kid, and where is her mother?!

“Hello.” She said, standing on her toes, already balancing herself on a small step-stool. Her head barely poked over the counter for her to look at Simon.

“… ‘ello…” he said cautiously, eyeing the girl like she was a ticking time bomb. “Where are your parents?”

“Mummy’s in the back with Sean.” She said, turning her head and pointing to the doorway to the left. Simon leaned his head over the counter to follow her line of sight – he heard the sound of some sort of machinery echoing from the kitchen-like backroom, but he didn’t see anyone.

“She’s making biscuits!” The girl said, looking back at Simon.

He was utterly baffled. Who would leave a kid at the front of a shop? After hours, with the bloody door unlocked?! “Where’s your dad?”

“He lives with Nancy!”

“Nancy?”

“Yes – she used to stay at home with us, when Mommy had to work – then she took daddy home with him!”

Oh… that’s unfortunate.

He sighed. “Sorry ‘bout-“

“Would you like tea?”

Simon stared blankly back at the girl. This is ridiculous. “D’you have black tea?”

The girl nodded. She hopped off the step stool – Simon followed her little ponytail as it barely bobbed above the surface of the countertops. She rounded the corner and headed to a small, pink play kitchen. She grabbed two cups, one pink and one a royal purple, before carrying them over to a sink back behind the counter. She placed them on the countertop, then trotted back to the cashier area to grab her stool.

“I’m sorry.” she said with a giggle.

“’S fine, take your time…” Simon mumbled, stupefied by the whole situation. He watched the girl as she dragged her stool to the sink and clamored up onto it, filling the two cups with water. This was a very… unnatural situation. He wouldn’t be entertaining it, if it wasn’t for the fact that this girl was clearly alone. He would have gone back to the kitchen to see where her mum was, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was robbing the place and pull a gun on him. If anything, the least he could do was watch over this little girl until someone came around to claim responsibility for her.

So, there he was. Five minutes later, sitting at one of the tables in the bakery with this toddler. “Eating” a fake croissant and drinking “tea” from the little plastic cup (he got pink; purple was her favorite color).

“Do you want butter?” she asked, holding him a plastic plate and knife, with a plastic slab of butter on it.

“Yea, why not.” He replied. He picked up the tiny knife and pretended to slather butter over the one half of his croissant (it intrigued him that the manufacturer of the toy had thought to make the damn thing dividable into two pieces). “Ya got a name, kid?”

“Mummy says I can’t tell strangers my name.” she replied, looking at him with the same stern expression her mother had most likely given when telling her the same thing.

Simon nodded. “Your mum’s smart.” He said, taking a sip of his tea.

“You can call me Pony Princess!” she offered instead, biting into her croissant rather realistically.

Simon held back a laugh. “Pony Princess it is, then.” He said, clinking his cup against hers when she held it up for a toast.

You sighed, shoving the third and final tray of biscuits into the commercial oven. It was hot and humid in the kitchen, and you were thankful that the most toiling part of the batch was over. Glancing at your watch made you grimace at how late it was – Christopher was for sure going to complain about how late you had him stay, especially past closing. You knew he was most likely out for a smoke, but you didn’t have the energy to reprimand him tonight. As long as the doors were locked behind him and the front lights were off, you didn’t care. No one would be trying to enter a bakery this late at night.

You looked to your left, fanning the heat from your flushed face. Sean was fast asleep in his carrier, his little mouth open and fingers twitching as he dreamed. You gently scooped him into your arms and wiped his nose clean with your apron, before maneuvering your way through the kitchen to the front. It had been a while since Christopher came to nag you about hurrying up, and you wondered how long he’d been out smoking – or if he’d come back at all. Ellie wasn’t in her usual spot, coloring in the office chair in front of the computer… you frowned a bit, speed walking into the café as an uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

“Christpher, are you in here?” you called, adjusting Sean on your hip. “Ellie? Where are-“

You audibly gasped when you walked into the seating area. A man, a brutish man, was seated at one of your tables, after closing. He was dressed in all black, with a black surgical mask dangling from one ear, and his hood up. He stared back at you with a shocked expression on his face, holding an absurdly tiny, pink plastic cup in his hand, and a toy croissant on the table in front of him. Right across from him was your daughter, Ellie, with an aloof grin on her face.

“Hi Mummy!” she exclaimed. “We’re having a tea party!”

A million questions were running through your head. Where the fuck is Christopher? Who is this man? Is he robbing you? Is he trying to steal your child?!

“Ellie…” you said, a slight waiver in your voice. “Sweetheart, come here please.”

“But I’m having tea with him!”

You sent another fearful glance to the behemoth of a man at the table. He looked back at you, seemingly just as taken aback by the situation as you were. He looked back down at the table and cleared his throat, taking a tiny sip from the hot pink plastic cup.

Your daughter was having tea and crumpets with a fucking burglar.

“Ellie. Now, please.” You repeated sternly, holding your free arm out to her.

She reluctantly slid down from her chair and padded over to you. As soon as she was within arm’s length, you grabbed her tiny hand and dragged her into the back kitchen.

“Ellie, what are you doing?!” You whisper-yelled, kneeling down to her level and looking into her eyes. You tried to stress the importance of the situation. “Who is that man?!”

“He’s a customer, Mummy!” she said, with a beaming smile on her face.

“What did he want from you?!”

“He wanted tea.”

“What else? Did he ask for your name?”

“I didn’t tell him.” She said, resolve thick in her tone. “Just like you told me not to.”

You sighed frustratedly, adjusting Sean on your hip. “Where is Christopher?”

“He went outside.”

Un-fuckin-believable.

You pulled her close to you and planted a kiss to her forehead, then looked her in the eyes once more. “Listen to me, sweetie. Go to the desk and color for now, ok? I’m gonna talk to the man. I’ll be right back. And if you hear Mommy yelling or crying-“

“- use the phone and call 9-9-9.” She said.

“Good girl – now go on.” You ushered her further into the kitchen, then stood upright. With Sean still sound asleep, cradled tightly into your side, you grabbed the phone from the wall mount and slowly tiptoed back into the café.

Simon was still at the table, except now both of his palms were flat against the wooden surface. He watched as you emerged back into the lobby; maybe it was an inappropriate time to admire someone, but he couldn’t help himself.

You. Fierce you, you mustering the angriest face you could make (it was quite cute, by the way – you really need to work on it if you’re trying to intimidate anyone). You with your hair hastily pulled back into a messy updo, you with that baby boy on your hip, you with batter on your face that Simon was just dying to lick up. You stayed behind the counter

“Who are you?” you demanded.

“Simon.” He answered. He could tell you were a bit disappointed in that response, given you didn’t know who the hell Simon was. “Not a burglar.” He added after a few seconds.

You pouted even more. “Why are you in here? How did you get in here? We’re closed.”

Simon looked towards the blinking “open” sign by the front door. “Well… mam, the sign says otherwise. And the doors were unlocked.”

You looked at the sign and cursed internally, taking another peek into the back kitchen. Ellie was still back there. Good. Christopher was nowhere to be seen. Fuck.

“I’m sorry about the confusion…” you said, looking back at Simon and adjusting Sean on your hip, “but we’re closed. My clerk should’ve turned that sign off hours ago, and locked the door behind him. In fact, when he gets in here, I’m about to give him a piece of my-“

“Mam, please-“ Simon said, starting to stand up. Your eyes widened a bit and you took a step back; he held his hands up as a peace offering, before stretching up to his full height. You gulped – you’d never seen anyone so large before. How did he fit through the damn door?

“I didn’t mean t’ cause any fuss.” He spoke quietly, slowly approaching the counter you stood behind. “I really am sorry – I thought th’ place was open, n’ I was out lookin’ for a tea. ‘Lil squirt back there was very hospitable. I jus’ stuck around to see where ‘er mum was.”

He pulled his hood down to seem more approachable, and lord, was he. You couldn’t fight the way you were immediately attracted to the cropped, blonde hair, the strong jaw, the few scars that marked up his face… fuck, the way he could’ve been a building next to you, with how much he shaded you from the light…

Didn’t you think this man was a burglar not five minutes ago? You thought. You quickly forgave yourself, once you remembered how long it had been since you were with a man.

You sighed. “I’m sorry, I just- you know, with two kids, you freak out about everything-“

“Perfectly understandable.” He interjected. “But I’ve caused enough trouble for one night. ‘ll be out of your hair-“

“Could I at least get you a tea?” you asked. “Since you’re here.”

“You really don’t need-“

“No, I insist- just, give me a moment-“ frazzled, you disappeared into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind you.

Simon exhaled heavily, clearing his throat. He tried to recuperate himself – he couldn’t be falling for the woman he nearly frightened to death, let alone a woman he’d never met before. You were probably scared shitless of him. The way your wide, glossy eyes had stared at him, those pouting lips… and Christ, the way that baby boy fit perfectly on your hips. He imagined his hands tracing over them –

He huffed, glancing around the café to distract himself. Should’ve listened to Price and gotten a hobby-

You came back out, baby-free, and snagged a paper cup off of a stack near the drip machine. “Just had to put him back with Ellie. Don’t like them being near the- the urns, and such-“ you fumbled, looking for a cup sleeve, before sliding it on and reaching for the tea cabinet. “Black or green?”

“Black’s fine – please and thank you.” Simon grunted out. He shoved his fidgety hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, watching as you grabbed a tea back and dropped it into his cup.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“None, thanks.”

“Do you always roam around this late at night?” you asked, pouring the water into the travel cup. Steam billowed up and in front of your face, and you scrunched your nose from the heat. “None of the shops are open this late – tea shops, I mean. Or, they shouldn’t be, but most of them have a clerk who knows how to turn off the “open” sign and lock the damn doors.”

Simon huffed. “Figured something was off. I jus’ couldn’t sleep.” He said, accepting the cup as you handed it to him. “Never can get much after comin’ home. Takes a while t’ get used to civilian life.”

“Military?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip as Simon nodded. “I get that. Nick used to have the same problem.”

“Nick?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, an embarrassed flush on your face. “Nothing. Ex-husband. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Simon mumbled, taking a sip of the tea. Don’t be sorry at all…

The two of you stood there a moment, a bit of awkward silence hanging in between you like a thick wall of glass. You cleared your throat – Simon saw the time on the clock hanging on the wall behind you, and decided he had taken up enough of your time.

“Well” – he said, fishing in to his pocket.

You smiled. “I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to. I’m paying you back for assuming you were a burglar – and for watching my daughter. Which, honestly, I really do appreciate.”

“Nonsense.” He said, pulling out a waded up bill. “’S what any good man should do. And I insist – if anything, give it t’ the little squirt for the excellent customer service.”

You chuckled, smiling as he handed the bill to you. “I can’t thank you eno-“ you stopped, glancing at the two £50’s he’d just given you. Words failed to come to you, your tongue tripping over itself as you tried to get past the initial shock.

“Th- I- wait, Simon!” you called, swinging around the edge of the counter – but he was already at the door. “I can’t accept this!”

He held up a hand. “’M not takin’ it back. And it’s not for you – give it to Ellie.”

You huffed. “What’s a five-year-old going to do with one hundred pounds?!”

He shrugged. “Start a college fund. Or get herself a handful of biscuits from the store.”

A chuckle escaped your lips – the sound warmed Simon’s soul. “Yeah, sure. When she’s got plenty of biscuits here. I don’t-“

You stopped, just as the bell above the door chimed. Simon followed your narrowed, angry gaze to the bloke who had just entered. He was tying an apron around his middle, reeked of cigarette smoke and body odor. He jumped when his eyes landed on Simon – he could see the gears turning in the man’s head as his face suddenly fell, right before he turned to you. Simon read the name on the tag pinned to the man’s apron.

Christopher.

A deep, throaty laugh escaped his throat as he clapped the man on the shoulder. “You’re in trouble, mate. ‘N lock the door behind ya.” He then exited the café, sipping his tea and shoving a hand into his pocket, chuckling as your angry voice echoed through the doors.

Thankfully, the nagging voices in his head didn’t return that night.

#SImon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #cod #call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley cod #cod x reader #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic

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manicpixievixen · 2 months ago

Text

Open arms

Jason todd x gn!reader one-shot

Warnings: None really, the reader is still referred to as smaller than Jason and wearing a 'small pajama set', but other than that, it can be read as any gender.

Summary: Another one of Redhoods visits to your place, and he was always welcome. You give Jason a little talk about what you are to each other.

Wc: 2.1k masterlist

Jason had been stopping by your apartment for so long you could barely pinpoint the day it'd started. Like clockwork at increasingly late hours of the night, he would climb in through a purposefully open window and make his way inside. Sometimes getting caught in the drapes and hoping you hadn't noticed him clumsily swatting them away like a cat with its claw stuck in the window screen.

The memory of how this routine started was almost blurry in your head. It was so normal now, expected even. You'd known Jason separately from redhood for a while. One night, he couldn’t be bothered to go home and change just to keep his alter ego in hiding. You'd freaked out at the supposed stranger in your house before he took off the mask. And then it just kept happening.

Tonight was no different. In fact, if he hadn't shown up, you would've been concerned considering his recent consistency.

He grumbled some obscenities at the curtains that had gotten caught around him once again with the help of a gust of wind from the open window. Then once he'd escaped he stared down at the welcome mat you'd placed under the window, an amused sigh escaping from under the deep red helmet that's so often hiding his face.

He guessed maybe you'd gotten tired of his boots dirtying the floor when he visited, but not tired of him.

He limped ever so slightly as he left his boots behind on the little mat you'd layed out, moving towards the couch and shedding his helmet and gloves once he got there. They were supposed to protect him, but his bloodied knuckles said otherwise. Later, it would make you question just how overboard he could get on anger alone. You'd supposed it wasn't quite a problem in your circumstance, Jason almost made too much of an effort to be gentle on your part. He settled into the couch, not feeling too ashamed to be the occasional freeloader.

You emerged from your bedroom, having heard him curse a couple of times on his way in. “You need somethin’?” You asked quietly, entering with a blanket still wrapped around you. Formal greetings were long gone between the two of you.

He looks up at you, eyes half lidded. “Food.” His tone is tired. He's happy to see your face, the first friendly one in a while. He wonders if eventually he might poison your sweet attitude towards him, just by being around you, like maybe you might realize he's horrible and broken and not so apologetic for his actions as red hood.

"Please?" You ask, wrapping your blanket tighter around you as you look at his pale blue eyes for a response. He smiles at your encouragement, muttering a quiet but gruff ‘please’

You left him to settle down, returning with a plate for him. Nothing special at this hour, a sandwich would do. "Thanks." He spoke, taking the plate from your hands and practically shoving half of the sandwich in his mouth, from what you could observe he hadn't eaten all day.

"No one's gonna take it from you Jay." he'd forgotten how long he'd been waiting to hear that nickname again.

Jason freezes, he mumbles something unintelligible with a full mouth, finally swallowing and clearing his throat before replying. "Yeah, well. You never know in this city."

You'd been settled beside him, picking up his red hood helmet and inspecting it. As he ate his food, you slipped it on yourself. At first, he was going to ask you to take it off, and he still might. But you looked oddly cute with it, accompanied by a small pajama set.

He visibly looked you up and down, placing the plate down on the coffee table. His usual frown had softened slightly along with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Cute.” He finally mumbles, quiet as his eyes wander before meeting your own again.

"Really?" You ask, sort of encouraging, as if to tell him,'say that again.' He rolled his eyes at that, but his softened frown turned into a smirk pretty quickly. He shifted on the couch, pulling you to sit on his lap. His larger frame easily engulfed your smaller one as he held you.

One of his hands slowly traced the curve of your hip, sneaking under the hem of your sleep shorts just a little bit. “Yeah, really.” his eyes showed he meant it.

You reached both hands up to pull the helmet off, messing up your hair a little when you did so. “Things fucking uncomfortable.” You discarded it on the opposite side of the couch, enjoying your spot in his lap.

His hand moved to your hair, attempting to untangle a few pieces, pushing them away from your face. It eventually turned into a gentle caress of your cheek. “you looked cute though.” He teased, holding your hips gently and helping you straddle his lap, legs on either side of his thighs.

"What are you doing Jason?" You hadn't asked it like you were oblivious to his intentions or innocent. Just a sort of reality check, you'd been teetering on the edge of friends with benefits for a while. You were okay with letting him come and wind down and feel safe. You wanted him to be okay, but it was going to be rough if you only ever saw him during these times. Especially if you started really seeing each other.

He slung an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and keeping you in place on his lap. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He said above a soft whisper, but he couldn't possibly put your current situation into words. There wasn't ever going to be a good answer for what you had or would have with him.

"Blurring the lines?" You'd offered, even though you were absentmindedly doing the same, picking up his hand and running your fingers over his bruised and bloody knuckles.

He watched as your smaller hand held his own, his rough and battered knuckles meeting your soft skin. The contrast sent something through him, something he needed to feel more often. “maybe.” He mumbled in response. He'd tried to pull his hand away slowly. The feeling was nice, but something deeply rooted in his chest made him cringe at the way you were so soft on him, like he didn't need that treatment.

You'd noticed, telling him not to, by bringing that same hand up to your lips and leaving a soft kiss on each knuckle, your eyes not leaving his.

Jason swallowed hard at the continued soft feeling. There was a hint of something vulnerable in the usually stoic expression he wore. His lips parted slightly, trying to let out words that were caught in his throat, leaving an almost whimper in their place. He allowed his eyes to close for a second, his other hand gently exploring your thigh.

"Jay," you said quietly, as you dropped his hand and picked up the other, repeating the same actions. "You can come in here every night and blur the lines until there isn't any," you whispered, "but you better make some time to be something other than a visitor.” Jason's eyes moved with your lips as you spoke, tensing up underneath your warm body, his hand twitching at your careful touch. He swallowed again, his gaze continued to follow your lips, then back to your eyes.

His voice was a bit hoarse as he spoke. “I will.” His hands continued to rub up and down your thighs. You pushed yourself off of him. He'd almost let out a whine at the sudden lack of contact.

“go shower.” You mumbled, pressing your lips to his cheek. He sighed, reluctantly getting up.

“Bossy.” He mumbled in response, heading towards the bathroom, already pulling his shirt up as you relished in the sight of his muscular back. It was adorned in a couple of faded scars. You liked to trace your fingers over them in the darkness of your room.

"This is my house." You justified, beginning to walk back to your bedroom. You knew he would find you there when he was finished. He rolled his eyes even though you couldn't see it.

"Then maybe you should show some hospitality." He teased, his voice slightly muffled by the sound of the running water.

The hot water was no match for your soft touch, but it still felt soothing to his sore muscles. His mind, however, was still somewhat occupied with your earlier words, going back to the feeling of your lips against his knuckles and your weight on his lap, and how your thighs felt resting against his own.

He left the washroom with a pair of sweats on and his hair sending water droplets down his toned chest. Jason paused outside the bedroom door, his hand hovering over the handle for a brief moment before he slowly opened it. He could see your figure laying on the bed, still awake, a lamp casting the most flattering warm light across your skin.

You lifted the blanket up, patting the spot beside you. Most times, he would sleep on the couch or leave before morning. Because of course, the odd relationship between you two was complicated. Sure, he'd spent a few nights on and off in your room, only in times where the city streets had been truly horrible to him. But you'd offered… He took a few slow steps forward, approaching the bed and joining you under the covers, accepting your invitation.

"Much better." You told him, running a hand through his damp hair, you'd always loved the bleached streak amongst the dark waves. He let out a barely audible grumble, shivering involuntarily at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. Jason shifted, turning to properly face you. One of his hands returning to his favourite spot on your hip.

"You gonna come over some time that isn't some odd hour of the night?" You asked, continuing the talk from earlier. "Maybe not leave before morning?”

Jason's grip on your hip tightened at the question, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before he looked at you again. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thought, shifting forward and resting against the crook of your neck, his lips gently pressing against your skin. "Maybe." He mumbled against your neck, almost as if to hide his face while his other hand continued tracing your body.

"I'm serious, Jay." You said, all but ignoring his hand grasping underneath your shirt."If this is all it's gonna be, it's not gonna be anything for much longer.”

His body shivered at those words, and he pushed himself farther into the crook of your neck, his breath fanning over your skin. He understood what you meant, and yet, admitting he did would make things so much more complicated. He liked the way you were with him now. He didn't need to change that. "I know." His words a whisper against the skin of your neck, his hand continuing to roam under the loose cotton of your sleep top.

"Next time I see you, better not be twelve at night in that goddamned mask." You said, holding onto his wrist, stopping his hand under your shirt so he would look at you.

He stilled again, letting you stop him. The beauty of your dynamic was the way he could rip his arm away in one action if he wanted to, but he would let you hold him down like this. He took in a sharp breath before sighing, lifting his head from your shoulder. His eyes met yours for the tenth time tonight. His blue stare held a guilty expression. "I'll try." He mumbled.

"You will." You agreed, dropping his wrist.

His eyes stayed locked onto yours, his expression still a mix of guilt and something foreign. He swallowed hard. "Promise." He whispered, his voice still hoarse. You nodded in acknowledgment at him, less serious now that the two of you had that talk.

His shoulders slumped, letting the tension of the discussion go. Easing upon seeing your approving nod. He very gently pulled your figure closer to him, muscular arms making contact with the small of your back. He rested his head on top of your own, burying his nose in your hair, taking in a now very recognizable scent.

It was his choice now, to return as Jason again. No red hood in sight. Through the door this time and not the window. You hadn't seen his old self in a long while. He knew either way he'd be welcomed with open arms, it was just a matter of what you were to each other.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc titans #dcu #fanfic #oneshot

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pellucid-constellations · 5 months ago

Note

for a drabble literally just anything cutesy with azriel like banter or ANYTHING

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~700

Warnings: None!

a/n: I've been in a cutesy mood so I love this <3 Enjoy Azriel being a messy simp. Also this is kind of Archeron!Reader but barely.

____________________________________________

“Wonderful, my love,” Azriel smiled.

“Do you really like it?” you asked, nerves evident in the twisting of your fingers. “Because I tried something new and was positive it would taste terrible.”

“It’s delicious.”

Azriel leaned forward in his chair, resting his steady hand on both of yours. You bit your lip as he gave you a gentle nod, confirming his words. When you still looked troubled, Azriel reached out and gathered you onto his lap. His fingers came up to brush your hair back. He avoided the flour and sugar and what he thought was an eggshell as he went.

“It is, y/n,” Azriel stressed. “The best muffin I’ve ever had.”

“Okay, sure,” you deadpanned, placing your arms around his shoulders. “But you said that about the cake I made for our mating ceremony and then I tried it myself and almost gagged.”

“That was not your cake to try.”

“Greedy.”

Azriel huffed out a laugh, gazing up at you as you sat on his knee. “Why are you so concerned about this, hm? You have plenty of skills outside of baking.”

“Azriel, I’m going to be alive for a long time,” you stressed, thinking back to the finite years you were destined to before you had been thrown into the cauldron along with your sisters. “I can’t be bad at baking. That’s ridiculous.”

“There are plenty of fae that are terrible at baking.”

“Oh no,” you groaned, shoving your face into your hands. “So it was terrible.”

Azriel shot into action, a momentary panic making his hands freeze along your back. “No. No, that is not what I said, y/n. Not at all. I was just saying that—”

“Oh, nice. Muffins.”

Cassian’s nonchalant tone sent even more panic down the Shadowsinger’s spine. Azirel shot up from his seat, jolting you up as he went, and slapped the muffin from his brother’s hand, the pastry just seconds from his mouth. Azriel hadn’t even heard him enter the sitting room.

Everything went silent as the muffin tumbled from Cassian’s hand and rolled and rolled until it collided with a wall. Azriel’s hand was still raised as Cassian blinked back at him. You stood frozen, baffled, and unsure of your next move.

“Azriel—” you began, but Cassian cut you off. “The hell was that for?” he accused, arm jutting back to the muffin still rocking on the floor. “I can’t eat a muffin in my own house?”

Azriel opened his mouth in reply but then closed it after a beat of silence. Cassian raised his brows and flung up both hands in a plea for a response.

Finally, Azriel formulated the words, “She is my mate. You can’t eat the food she makes.”

Cassian scoffed, a sentiment that was mirrored in the crossing of your arms. “I thought you’d be over all this by now.” Cassian gestured around his brother’s figure. “The possessiveness and being an asshole.”

“Yeah? Yeah, well… Well, I’m not,” Azriel affirmed. And to taunt Cassian more, he reached for another muffin and took a mighty bite.

You rolled your eyes. “This is dumb. I made a mess of the kitchen and I do not want to be part of whatever this is.”

Azriel held eye contact with Cassian as you fled the room, his gaze narrowed and his jaw unmoving. To his credit, all Cassian did was stare back with an almost amused expression. Until the door closed behind you and Azriel made a quick movement to the table, snatching up a napkin and removing every crumb of the muffin from his mouth.

He coughed a few times and balled the napkin up, his eyes watering as he greedily grabbed the tea you had brought with the plate. It took a few heavy gulps and a confused sound from Cassian before Azriel could explain.

“That was the worst muffin I have ever had. I couldn’t have you trying it and telling her that. Be grateful.”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel drabble #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #everyone is prob asleep but IM NOT

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chiikasevennn · 7 months ago

Note

Heyyy I saw you were writing for sung jinwoo and I was wondering if you'd be up to writing one where reader is his girlfriend and they are together somewhere and he is all soft and mushy with her without realizing there are other hunters around bc he is just so focused on her only

⁠✷—C is for Clingy

THIS IS BADLY WRITTENNNNNNNN, eng is not my first language. I hope nobody criticizes me like I write for a living 😭 also, not proofread. Kind of suggestive. I have no idea what I'm doing or writing. I hope I got this correctly!

Slow movements were made as another lazy Sunday morning was being spent in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with your boyfriend hugging your waist from behind.

You felt like drifting on the edge of consciousness, Jinwoo could say the same. Once the pancakes were finished and ready to be savored, you made every effort to plate them with him securely encircling your waist.

Jinwoo grumbled, half-asleep, eyelids heavy as he couldn't resist the mesmerizing aroma emitting from you. Should you permit, he would hold onto you forever.

For some odd reason, his sense of smell became more acute especially in the morning when you were around, or maybe it was simply your sweet, sugary scent that was so appealing and irresistible. He just had to approach you.

So, as the clingy man he openly acknowledged himself to be whenever he was with you, he just trailed closely along behind you, his head buried in your hair and breathing in its faint sweetish scent.

"—inwoo, Jinwoo," you began to tap his head; slowly, he woke up from daydreaming.

He hummed in response, holding you tighter which made you grumble.

"Pancakes are ready. Do you want syrup?"

He nodded his head against your hair. You did your best to remove his hold around you, to which you succeeded barely.

"Woo, we're going to eat." The dark haired man's face etched with lines of discontent at how he had to let go of you.

The sight of pancakes you made on the table brought a little smile to his face though, a tower of golden goodness waiting to be devoured. Each pancake was a work of art, perfectly round and fluffy, begging to be drenched in syrup.

He seized the chair adjacent to your seat and brought it close to you with such intimacy, eager to be near you as he prepared to enjoy his first meal of the day.

The two of you took a bite, it was a silent breakfast.

"Say, Jagiya," he said. "KHA's hosting a party in three days, may I ask you to come with me?"

You stopped eating after swallowing the last piece of pancake in your mouth. "Like, a hunter gathering? Am I needed?"

"For me, yes." He responded like a form of desperation. "I also want to show my girlfriend to the world. Will that be okay?"

Trying to negotiate with him was pointless. How could you possibly refuse when he asked so kindly? You were somewhat bashful around strangers, often preferring to take shelter behind someone taller. Jinwoo conveniently became that reliable barrier after his sudden growth spurt.

"Sure, does it have a theme or something? I don't want to look off."

"You'd look gorgeous in anything."

"I'm serious!"

Jinwoo chuckled. "A dress, maybe? I'll wear a suit. Should we go look for fits later? It's a day off, after all."

I hummed along with him, eating the rest of the pancake happily.

The dark haired man looked at the necklace around your neck. You were still donning that budget-friendly heart necklace, huh? Back then, it was the only thing he could offer as he didn't have much. It had been his initial present to you upon making things official, and ever since then, you hadn't removed it.

Jinwoo smiled. The littlest things do make him happy randomly. Maybe it was the [Name] effect.

By four o'clock, you and him stepped out to shop together. Although your intention was to sleep through the day, how could you possibly debate with your boyfriend who was eager to be with you at a luxurious event?

✯

"Is this really okay?"

As she descended the staircase, the V-line neckline of her dress accentuated the slender curve of her neck. It was commanding Jinwoo's attention and he couldn't look away although he'd already seen you in that dress.

He was determined to hold onto you once more, and he did, though his breath hesitated as he realized how easily he could grab your waist.

Jinwoo buried his face into your styled hair, reddening like a teenager. Oh, Jinwoo, your charming Jinwoo who kept showing this cute side of him just and only for you.

"Woo, this is the seventh time you've grabbed my waist. I might be giving you too much privilege."

"Mm," he was silent, before suggesting something. "You're so grabbable, so small… You know, we still have thirty minutes lef—"

You ended up smacking the back of his head with a wide smile, a tick mark appearing. "Nope, the last time we did that, I couldn't walk properly!"

You bestowed a kiss upon his hair, being cautious not to disrupt the expertly groomed locks that adorned his handsome face. Of course, this man was not only your significant other, but also your partner in each craziness you start, and you, too, were keen to flaunt him proudly like the committed partner you were.

✯

The formal party was a gathering of elite individuals, a sea of tailored suits and elegant dresses filling the large room. Every detail of the formal party was meticulously planned, from the ornate decorations to the impeccable service as it would have distinguished guests.

For those in attendance, the formal party was more than just a social event—it was an opportunity to network, to solidify alliances, and to climb the ladder of success.

The air was thick with anticipation as guests awaited the arrival of the most awaited guest, a figure of utmost importance in the world of hunters.

When you and Jinwoo arrived, it was obvious that every set of eyes was fixed on the both of you, holding you in their gaze, clearly observing your every move.

They didn't know an inkling of fact about you, but they knew you were his secret other, thanks to the rumors and candid photos fans took of the two of you, dubbing you as Hunter Sung Jinwoo and his hidden girlfriend.

Indeed, you were gorgeous, but some of their corrupted minds thrived for more than that. They wanted connection, power, influence—

I got nervous for no reason… You sighed.

You had envisioned the gathering to be calm before the storm, but surprisingly, it was actually like a walk in the park! Initially, you had anticipated being swarmed or judged by random people nearby, but they were actually quite polite.

The discussions you engaged in with people were polite, formal, and brief, to say the least. You also noticed how tense some of them appeared moments after approaching you… Or maybe you were kidding and it was just your imagination? You had initially thought of hiding behind Jinwoo and using him as a shield, but surprisingly, they were composed and respectful.

You were unaware of the fear gripping their souls, as each time you greeted them with a gentle, tiny smile, a certain dark-haired hunter would send them glaring looks from a distance behind you; Jinwoo knew their intentions, and they weren't dumb to not realize that he was pointing right exactly at them.

"Jagiya," He spoke softly by your ear before planting a kiss on the tip of your ear. Wait. "Did you use another perfume when we arrived?"

The sudden weight of pressure hugged your hands, leaving you undeniably certain that he gripped it tightly as if awaiting something eagerly.

"No…? Wait, do I smell—"

He knew what you were going to assume. "No, not bad. Just different. Like candy or something similar."

You kissed his lips. "Good." Jinwoo couldn't resist smiling, a sight that, unbeknownst to both of you, resulted in many spectators widening their eyes at the sight of the two of you.

His concentration was solely on you, those gray eyes looking down at you with so much adoration. He never objected to public displays of affection, perhaps the two of you simply preferred to keep your intimacy private, until now—at least, for Jinwoo.

It made him feel giddy.

"Kiss me again?"

"What? We're in public…"

"So? No harm in doing it again. You already kissed me. Plus, we literally had a quickie weeks ago at a restau—"

"Shut!" You whisper-yelled, a flush of embarrassment spreading across your face up to your ears. Jinwoo chuckled. "That is not necessary!"

….? Did he just… Laugh?

That was the thought of the woman afar, Hunter Cha Hae-In. Plagued by an unsettling and cumbersome sensation, she observed something she didn't think she'd see.

So those pictures of them taken at a beach were true? The blonde hunter tried to swallow down her drink.

The hunters scattered throughout the room, especially those who had witnessed Jinwoo's prowess in battle, look mostly in disbelief as they witnessed something that surpassed their wildest dreams. They had never considered that such a brutal man on the battlefield could be so tender... And it seemed like he had no problem showing it, too!

"Wait, what do you mean you kind of drove them away?" You whispered closely to your boyfriend's face, brows furrowing. "So that guy Mr. Kim was actually gonna piss his pants because you continuously looked at him like a mosquito???"

"Your hair smells great." He deliberately changed the subject with a kiss. "Let's go to dinner after this."

"Hey!" You whisper-yelled.

ples comment something D:

#solo leveling fic #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader #i need this man #I AM TIRED OF PRETENDING HE'S NOT HOT #He's so hot

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fandoms-x-reader · 5 months ago

Text

Small but Hungry

Requested By: @ricaaathelittlelamb

Word Count: 1,858

Height can be deceiving. That was a hard lesson the seven demon brothers were learning.

You were a small human and because of that, they believed you didn’t require as much food. They wanted to be sure though, so they turned to Satan who promptly pulled out his book on humans. Their theory was confirmed when the book had a passage stating humans shouldn’t eat as much food as demons. So, they were all in agreement that they shouldn’t overfeed you.

Since you came to the Devildom, they had been feeding you small portions. You never complained about being hungry and you never asked for more food, so they never knew that they were doing something wrong.

Then, you all took a trip to the human world. It was more like a business trip than a vacation, so you were only up there for a day. And, the day was nearly over when Lucifer offered to pay for everyone’s dinner.

The group decided to eat at a steakhouse and your stomach was immediately growling as soon as you began reading the menu. How long had it been since you had human world food? It was a rare occasion in the Devildom.

One by one, the demon brothers ordered the dishes they wanted, starting with Lucifer and ending with Belphie. Finally, it was your turn. You placed the menu down before confidently telling the waiter, “Could I have the full rack of ribs please?”

There was a moment of silence as you handed the waiter your menu. When you returned your attention back to the others, you were met with all seven staring at you, their eyes slightly wider than normal.

“What?” you asked innocently. They all quickly brushed it off. They didn’t want you to think they were judging you in any way, because they weren’t. They loved you in every way, and they would never think negatively of you. They were just a bit confused by how much food you ordered.

Lucifer couldn’t help but wonder if you were maybe trying to impress them with the amount of food you could eat. That was the only reason he could imagine you would order such a large amount of food.

Mammon was in sheer confusion. A human as small as you couldn’t possibly eat that much food. So, why did you decide to order that of all things? Mammon began to question himself. Clearly, he had to be missing something.

Levi couldn’t help but feel on edge. Were you planning something? Were you stocking up on food in case of an emergency? Levi wouldn’t judge you. He had rations in his room for the same reason. But…ribs? Weren’t there better things to store for later?

Satan’s mind immediately went to his books. He wished they were there with him so he could read about this. Was there something special about ribs that allowed humans to eat more than they normally would?

Asmo was a bit worried about you. Were you stressed or upset? Is that why you wanted to eat such a large portion of food? He didn’t want you to be bloated from overeating. He would watch you carefully while you ate to make sure this wasn’t the case.

Beel knew best what it was like to be hungry. But, even if you were starving, a full rack seemed like a lot of food for such a small human. He wasn’t worried about it though. Whatever you didn’t eat he would finish for you.

Belphie believed you were messing with them. It had to be a joke and any second you were going to change your mind and ask for a smaller plate. If it was a prank, he had to admit that you got them all pretty good.

When the food came, all seven of them were surprised at how big the platter was. Now they doubted your abilities even more.

“That’s a lot of food,” Beel stated, staring at the food. You smiled at him in response and Mammon questioned, “Are ya’ really going to eat all of that?” “Of course,” you replied, completely unaffected by the size of the platter.

The brothers felt like they were transported to another realm. Their minds were racing at a hundred miles per hour. They were too stunned to eat their own food. Instead, they watched you eat yours with curiosity.

You finished the ribs quickly and when you were done you licked the remainder of the sauce off of your fingers. A loud belch escaped from your lips and your hand moved up to cover your mouth.

“Excuse me,” you said gently, noticing the way all of the brothers were staring at you. You didn’t pay any attention to it though as you politely excused yourself from the table to go freshen up in the bathroom.

If you were trying to impress him and his brothers, you succeeded with flying colors. You ate those ribs with such ease, he couldn’t believe it.

Lucifer immediately began questioning his decision to feed you small portions in the Devildom. If he had known you could eat this much, he never would have limited you on the amount of food you could have.

He thinks about punishing Satan for giving him false information about the amount of food humans can eat. But, then he realizes it isn’t Satan’s fault but the author of the book.

He debates going after the author but decides an easier way to mend the situation they were currently in is by making sure you never felt like you couldn’t eat the same amount of food in the Devildom.

From now on, he’ll ensure you get as much food as you want before his brothers get their plates, especially Beel.

Whaaa?

You ate all of those ribs without even trying! You didn’t even break a sweat or look like you were slowing down at any point.

How could such a small creature eat so much food?!

But, wait…did that mean this whole time you weren’t getting enough food? He and his brothers must have looked like such jerks for only feeding you small portions.

Why didn’t you ever ask for more food? Were you just trying to be nice?

Regardless of your reasons, Mammon was your first man and your protector in every sense of the word. Which meant it was up to him to help take care of you.

He promises there will never be another night in the Devildom where you go hungry. He’ll make sure of it.

It was quite the sight to watch for Levi. He had seen some of his favorite characters in anime eating in the same manner you just displayed. But, he never thought he would

experience the sight in person.

He thought the anime exaggerated how much one person could eat. He believed they might be trying to represent or make fun of his little brother’s never-ending appetite.

But, now he felt like his whole world had been shaken. This whole time it was real?! Humans could actually eat that much?!

Levi is now curious to find out what else was real in anime. He’ll be attached to you for the next week or so as he watches you closely to see if you mimic any of the other actions he’s seen his beloved characters do.

He’ll also offer you food whenever the two of you are hanging out. He tells you it’s to keep your strength up, but in reality, he feels a bit guilty that they hadn’t been feeding you properly for a while now.

Satan felt the most guilty about the situation. After all, his brothers had turned to him for advice on how to feed you.

Had he read his book wrong? No, he was positive that’s what the book said. So, then the book was wrong. For the first time in his life, a book had given him false information.

Satan was now questioning the integrity of some of the other books he had read on humans. He decided he would conduct his own experiments to find out the truth about you.

He would never chance your well-being on the words of a book again. Instead, if he’s curious, he’ll approach you directly and ask you whatever question is on his mind.

He’ll also make sure that you always have enough food. He’ll even secretly take note of which foods you prefer over others.

And, when that food is on the menu for dinner, he’ll make sure you get an extra serving or two just to make you happy.

You didn’t look stressed or upset in any way when you were eating the ribs. In fact - you looked completely satisfied.

Asmo was so relieved that you weren’t suffering in any way. But, at the same time, he was also concerned about their past actions.

He looked through his memories of you at the House of Lamentation, specifically at meal times, and he can’t remember you ever looking so satisfied.

He started freaking out at the possibility of you going to bed hungry every night you were in the Devildom and he immediately began planning out a way to make it up to you.

Not eating enough was just as unhealthy as overeating and Asmo wanted you at your very best.

He’ll work with you to make you more comfortable with telling the brothers when you’re still hungry so that this never happens again.

Beel was ecstatic when he saw that you were able to finish the entire rack of ribs. It was just one more thing that made you special to him.

He began to question what else you could eat a lot of. Was it only certain things or was it everything? Did you eat the same amount of food when it came to items from the Devildom?

Wait…

Now that he was thinking about it - had they been starving you?! Hunger is Beel’s ultimate weakness so the idea of you being hungry every day because of them made him a mix of angry and sad.

Beel would make sure to pile your plate with food at meal times and he’ll always offer you snacks during the day.

He would make sure to save enough for himself, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of too.

You did it? You actually finished the entire plate?

Belphie is completely shocked. He didn’t believe for one second that it would be possible.

And what’s more, is that you ate them so quickly as if the amount had no effect on you.

It was impressive, to say the least, and now he was glaring at all of his older brothers.

They had been feeding you the same amount of food since before he escaped the attic. So when Belphie got out, he thought it was normal.

Did none of them do their research on humans?! It clearly wasn’t enough food for you!

Belphie would no longer trust his brothers to take proper care of you. He would do everything himself from now on.

It was the only way he could guarantee your health.

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bi-writes · 9 months ago

Text

bestfriend!roommate!simon leaves on an assignment, but he needs your help first. (18+)

more bff!roommate!simon (part 9/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon has thicc thighs, lap sitting, fem+m!receiving touching, thigh riding because i cant resist, soft!dom!simon, praise kink, size kink (reader described to be moved/handled easily by him), the mask doesn't come off, simon is a cocky bastard, a lotta angst

"simon, if you keep moving, i won't be able to finish, quit squirming."

"sorry, luv--afraid you'll prick me with that bloody thing."

you stuck your tongue out at him for a moment before setting back against his thighs. you sat so nicely there, your ass perched on the thick muscle as you worked. you had your tongue between your teeth as you concentrated.

your fingers held a thick needle, weaving it through the fabric of simon's balaclava and the plastic skull plate. he had ruined another piece; he had come home after his last deployment with the skull plate in pieces. he did not explain what had happened to it; you only tried to ignore the streaks of red along the face of it when you watched him throw it away.

you saw him sitting on the couch, trying to sew it together, but his big fingers made it a little difficult; you sweetly asked if you could help. a big plus--you got to sit in simon's lap and bask in the heat of him.

you adjusted, moving around until you were straddling his wide hips. you had to spread your own to accommodate his size, sitting up high to be able to reach the top of his head, weaving the thread through to tie the plastic to the fabric.

"bloody tits are in m'face, luv."

"yeah? never heard a man complain about that before," you laughed lowly. he grunted in response, a gloved hand wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. "what? you don't like 'em?"

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, and you laughed again, continuing to sew the plastic to the fabric.

"you're gonna look so scary," you smiled wide. "you like looking scary on the field?"

"keeps the little ones at bay."

"everyone's little to you, simon."

"aye."

you snorted, settling in his lap as you were almost finished sewing the mask. you tied off the thick thread when you were finished, using some scissors to cut the excess fabric. you met his eyes as you sat there, and you smiled at him; maybe he did look intimidating, but all you could think about was how those pretty eyes sparkled last night when he came into your hand and how much you were going to miss that look when he was gone.

"the paint, simon?"

he held up a small jar in one hand, and you took a brush from the coffee table and began to draw lines down the face of the mask. you passed over his dark eyes, winking at him playfully before doing the same line on the other half of the mask. you put the brush down, dipping the tip of your manicured finger in it and then starting to draw the lines down where the mouth of his face would be.

you could feel his warm breath against your finger, and you cupped his cheek with your other hand, holding him firm as you drew along the mask.

"i'm going to miss you, simon," you whispered, swallowing hard. you avoided his eyes, focusing on drawing along the cloth. you let out a shaky breath. "i-i mean...i always miss you, but now you're gonna be gone and...whenever you go, you go for a long time, and--"

simon squeezed your waist gently, quieting you. your bottom lip trembled a little, and you looked down, away from him.

"i-i'm sorry. i don't mean to get upset. it's stupid."

stupid. there was nothing stupid about being vulnerable. nothing stupid about baring yourself, being naked to someone in more ways than just the physical. the sex was easy together; it was everything else that simon fought with. feeling. being. loving. the mundane of that love, like coming home.

and coming home was not easy.

"'s not stupid, luv. i know i leave y'here. i know," he shook his head. "i don't do it on purpose, y'know that."

you nodded, "yes, yeah...i know. it's your job. and you're good at your job, and you made a commitment to your team, and they rely on you like you rely on them--i-i know the reasons." you smiled sadly. "i know. i just miss you...that's all."

there was an itch in the back of your head, a hoarseness lodged in your throat--sometimes you wanted to just keep talking, because forbid this be the last time i say it to you.

he hummed lowly, sliding his hands down low and cupping both sides of your ass, bringing you close. you wipe your hands off of the paint, sighing deeply, relaxing as simon leaned back against the couch and held you near. your hands circled around his neck, hugging him back as you breathed in each other--your scent, the sounds of your breath, the feel of each other's warmth.

you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down simon's cheeks.

"let me get you geared up, yeah?"

you didn't wait for simon to answer. you picked yourself up off his lap, going to where he had his things laid out. you picked up his tactical vest, holsters, his skull-painted gloves, and you brought them back to the couch. simon sat up as you draped the vest over his head, fitting it over his shoulders. you untucked the hood of his jacket from under the vest, making sure it sat right before fastening the straps and making sure it was secure. you tugged on the straps just to make sure, your eyes skimming over the British flag on his chest and the prominent letters spelling SAS.

you busied yourself with switching out his gloves now, replacing the plain black ones with the painted-skull bone gloves. you didn't react to the calloused fingertips or the jagged scars along his hands. simon was so beautiful--every part of him was.

"i'm really proud of you, simon," you said softly. he hummed lowly but said nothing. you kissed his cheek gently, trying to meet his eyes and smile at him. "have i ever told you that?" simon shook his head, his eyes raising to stare intensely right into yours. you bit your lip. "well, i am. proud. you've come so far. they would be proud, too."

you didn't have to specify who they were. simon didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered.

you reached for one of the thigh holsters, sitting back and motioning for him to stand. when he did, you tried not to think about how much simon towered over you like this. he was taller than you, so much broader, taking up so much of your space. you reached up and started to fasten the holsters around his thigh, your fingers skimming the taut muscle there as you buckle it around him. you didn't comment on the fact that you nearly had to loosen the strap all the way just to fit around the thick of him.

you reached for the other holster, fastening it around his other thigh and looking up at him after you had finished. fuck, he looked good like this. he looked so much bigger--the width of him was greater, with you seated, you had to bend your neck back far, and having his back to the window cast low shadows over his face, darkening his gaze and giving him an eerie backlight. but you would never be afraid of simon--even all dressed up.

your lips part gently when his gloved hand cups just under your chin. you mewled lowly, looking up at him with those big eyes and a soft voice. simon knelt down suddenly, widening his thighs to cage you in on the couch and keeping a gentle hold of your chin.

"'m gonna be back before you know it, luv. sittin' right there--" he tilted his head to the spot to your left, "--y'know that, right?"

you broke out into a soft smile, bouncing a little as you nodded your head. simon clenched his jaw under the mask--fuck, you were so cute, so fucking sweet. there was nothing more comforting than knowing you were waiting for him when he came back--that you would be sitting here just like this, with this little smile on your face, your eyes so wide and pretty.

"i know," you whispered. you leaned over, smoothing your hands over the front of his vest before absentmindedly playing with the straps of it. "i know, simon. still going to miss you."

you don't meet his eyes. it was hard; simon was an important part of your life. any time you lived in his absence, it was lonely. now that you lived together, it felt that much lonelier--there was a room cold and unoccupied, an empty seat at the table, a spot on the couch without him in it. his voice soothed no nightmares and his warmth took away none of your shivering. you never told him that when you called; you only spoke of the meal you had cooked that you told him he would like and the annoying step at the entrance that the landlord still hadn't come to mend.

"c'mere."

simon smoothed his gloved hand down your chin, wrapping his fingers delicately around your throat. with a firm grip, he guided you into his lap as he sat back against the couch again, your body easily settling between his thighs again. your face relaxed, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you pressed your lips to the fabric over his neck. you sighed deeply, legs resting on either side of one of his thighs.

your head tilted back, your eyes peeking up to look at him. he moved his own head to the side, and beneath the skull, you could see those pretty dark eyes--beautiful, undeniable need in them. simon was terrible at hiding what he felt behind his eyes--they were warm, and his pupils were dilated, and you wondered if he saw the same pretty things in you that you saw in him.

your eyes fluttered when you felt one hand slide down the length of your spine. a warm, gentle hand, smoothing along the back of your shirt before cupping one side of your ass. you whined, a soft little sound escaping as you jumped slightly. your legs squeezed around his thigh, and you let out a gasp at the gentle grind. you reached up and cupped one side of his face at the first trace of pleasure, your lips pressing to the other side of it as he encouraged you to do it again.

you did. following his guiding hand, you dragged your hips up again, a strangled moan leaving you as you grind against his thigh. but it wasn't enough--as you moved, you whimpered against simon's face, letting out hot breaths of frustration. your jeans were too much of a barrier, not allowing for enough stimulation, and you felt pathetic when you heard simon's low chuckle.

"awww, sweetheart...look at ya..." he reached up with one paw of a hand and tangled a gloved hand into your hair, tugging on it firmly. he grunted as he watched your mouth fall open, slack jawed, drooling a little as you squeezed your thighs around his own. "look at tha'face. fuckin' beautiful, innit? that face you make when you want your cunny all nice and wet...when you want it pet..."

you cried out at that, nuzzling your face into his mask, kissing at the fabric and licking over the strong line of his jaw and hoping to god that he would have mercy on his pretty little roommate. that he would have mercy on her pretty face, on his name tumbling out of her mouth, on the way she grinded on his thigh like a lovesick bunny in heat.

"sound pathetic, luv..." he gripped the back of your neck, holding you at a distance now. he gripped the front of your jeans roughly, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. "now be a good puppy and take 'em off."

you shimmied out of your jeans, slipping them down your legs and kicking out of them. you were about to slip your panties off, pretty pink lace that hugged your ass so cute, but simon stopped you, forcing you back down to straddle his thigh.

"i like these," he murmured. "want them on."

you smiled, putting both hands on his vest. you gripped it tight, as tight as you could handle kevlar and bulletproof material, and then you nuzzled your face into mouth of his mask and began to ride his thigh. you were shaking. the straps of his holster were catching on your clit, and your hands were growing clammy as you tried to hold onto him for stability. you wanted to be good. you wanted to show simon how good you could be, how if he just unzipped his cargo pants and dropped them low enough, you could ride his cock so good, he'd see the fucking stars.

you hitched yourself higher on his leg, your thighs squeezing around the meat of his thigh, and he grunted lowly when your knee met his crotch. as you bounced, you rubbed up against him, and you squeaked when his gloved hand gripped your hair roughly, forcing your lips against the front of his mask. your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, a choked moan leaving you, and you kept going. you needed to show him, he needed to know--he needed to know that you wanted him, that you wanted this.

you let one hand drop, fall from his vest, and he growled out a string of angry curses when that soft hand gripped his cock through his pants. it was rough, a little aggressive, and you met his eyes easily.

"i want it--i-i want it--!" you cried. "i w-want more--"

he chuckled, and you felt tears prickling the edges of your big eyes as he laughed. your heart ached because you knew he was laughing at you. you sounded broken. you sounded lost. you sounded pathetic, but you couldn't care, you just couldn't bring yourself to. you needed more with simon.

you were tired of the in-between. you were sick of what if, when, the maybes that surrounded the unspoken thing between you. every grind of your hips, every drop of your slick that dampened his pants, all of it was just something in you screaming what are we?

he called your name, and you wanted to care about what he thought, but you needed him to know. you slipped your arms around his neck, moving until you straddled his hips, pressing your cunt right over the hardness stuck in his zipper and continuing your desperate pace.

you were going to make him understand this feeling inside. the gnawing in your chest--the thing that wanted to be outside so bad, it would claw its way out, it would force its fingers through your throat until simon could see that this wasn't a mistake.

this wasn't forgotten moments that lingered after dark. this wasn't the inevitable of a man and a woman who lived together. this was the catalyst of a bond too strong. two things, unable to be taken apart, to be reduced to separate things. there was not a simon riley without you, and there was no you without simon riley, and if he couldn't understand that, you didn't think you would survive the homecoming.

so you were going to fuck simon riley until he understood the knot was tight, and it would never unravel.

"kitty, wait--"

but he couldn't stop you. you swallowed his words, moaning desperately against the mask, your hips chasing the warm buzz that was creeping up your chest and down your thighs, your toes clenching as you notched the tip of his cock right up against your clit and fucked yourself harder against the smooth fabric of his pants.

"kitty--fuckin' christ--"

you sobbed, squeezing the back of his neck as you soaked his pants. your hips stuttered, small little circles that you made as you tried to ride out the trickle of warmth that was covering you like a comforting, pleasurable wave. your body relaxed, and you sucked on his jaw through the mask, tasting the musk and cigarette smoke that lingered there.

"simon--p-please--"

he grunted, pressing on the back of your head to tuck your face into his neck. you sniffled, moody and emotional from coming so hard, and you shook your head.

"y'r not ready for it. not time yet."

"i am," you sounded like such a baby. a cock-drunk pretty little roommate that needed something so desperately, she was so scared of what she might do to have it. to have him. "i am, please--"

"luv--"

"it's not fair," you gasped, pulling back from him. you stared up at him, and he hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe the tears that gathered under your eyes. "it's not fair, why--why can't i--?"

he tsked, clicking his tongue as he got to his feet, and your eyes lowered as he cursed under his breath, adjusting his pants, and you felt a sliver of victory as you realize that you made simon cum in his pants like a teenager.

"i w-won't wait forever."

the air in the room changed immediately. it came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it, and you tensed against the couch as his head turned, snapping to look at you.

"wot? wot did y'just say?"

"nothing."

"look at me."

you grit your teeth as he leaned down and knocked you under the chin, forcing your head to tilt back.

"wot did you just say?"

"nothing," you repeated, firmer this time. his eyes narrowed, two black, dull eyes staring down at you. his gaze was intense, and it was meant to scare you, but simon could never scare you. deep down, you knew he would never hurt you, at least not physically.

emotionally, simon had your heart in his hands, and those hands were not made to nurture. they were made to make pretty roommates cum and to pull dirty triggers. but nowhere in that did it say they were made to love you. nowhere did it specify he would keep it safe. you had given it up, before you had even realized, and he was playing you like his favorite instrument.

but simon didn't know how to play music. and there was a part of you that knew nothing about this was in tune.

when he goes, he doesn't say goodbye. and when you cried, it echoed in an empty room.

you would not wait forever. i will not wait forever.

he will not wait forever.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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fueledbysano · 8 months ago

Text

˚୨୧₊♱ study partners

Zayne is a brilliant and accomplished medical student, proficient in a number of fields such as cardio, neuro, trauma, pediatrics, ortho, and a lot more. However, an upcoming exam in his area of weakness, obstetrics, has him feeling anxious and unprepared. who's more qualified to help him study than you, his pretty childhood friend and roommate? ♡

♱ med student! zayne x afab!reader

♱ content/warnings: slowburn, friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, piv sex (cowgirl), soft dom, switch, virgin zayne, virginity loss, you teach zayne the female anatomy, body worshipping, possessive zayne, soft sex ♡

♱ tags: @enchantedforest-network @crisae

♱ 5k

You woke up late in the evening in a panic, startled to find that it was already dark and cold outside. You had spent the entire afternoon sleeping after an intense training session, and had begun to worry that you had missed the day entirely and that it was time to get ready for another day. Your heart was pounding with trepidation as you left your room.

However, you discovered Zayne seated in the living room, still engrossed in his study materials that took up the entire coffee table. Realizing you had only been asleep for 8 hours, you felt both embarrassed and relieved— Embarrassed that you had woken up so late in the evening, and relieved that you had not missed an entire night after all.

“Look who's up... Good morning,” Zayne spoke when he heard your door open, still engrossed in the study material he was reading. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the highlighted texts and diagrams in front of him, not even looking up to glance at you.

“Hey, Zayne,” you chuckled softly, heading towards the kitchen to help yourself with a glass of water. He seemed thoroughly absorbed in his studying and appeared to have been extremely immersed in his studies. “Pulling an all-nighter?” you asked, tone light and pleasant despite the fact that you had gotten a late start to the day yourself.

“Staying up late to intake information impairs one's cognitive functioning,” Zayne explained rationally, looking through the pages of his book as he spoke. “It's not worth it,” His tone was calm and practical, as if he was stating a fact rather than expressing a personal thought. He didn't appear to be tired at all, seemingly not bothered by the fact that he had been studying for so many hours. “I’ll call it a day in a while.” He added to answer your question.

You nodded in response, quietly looking around the cupboards for something to eat. Your stomach growling reminded you that you hadn't eaten anything yet. Just then, Zayne spoke up again, “I made vegetable frittatas for dinner. I already put your portion aside in the microwave, so just heat it up yourself.”

“Thanks, Zayne.” you smiled as you looked inside the microwave and saw the beautifully plated vegetable frittatas that Zayne had prepared for you. You pressed the buttons and the dish began to spin slowly. The light inside gave you a good view of the dish that Zayne had so meticulously prepared. As you waited for your food to heat up, your stomach rumbled louder, reminding you that you were indeed very hungry and had not eaten anything yet.

Zayne yawned as he turned the page in his study material, noticing that you had been quiet for a while. His gaze drifted to you as you ate the dinner he had made, the smile on your face as you tasted the delicious flavors making his body feel warm. The hour he had spent preparing the dish paid off, as he could see how happy and appreciative you were of the effort he had put in.

"Did the ice bath work?" Zayne asked, recalling his previous advice and wanting to see if you had followed it. "Yes, it works like a charm," you smiled as you continued to eat, your tone light and cheerful. You were pleasantly surprised that the ice bath had worked so well, and was grateful to have a roommate who is a med student.

You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly attractive Zayne was. His appearance was captivating, and his demeanor was effortlessly attractive. You thought about how even if he was having a breakdown right now, the way he carried himself suggested otherwise. You couldn't help but gaze at him again for a moment, appreciating his undeniable charisma and attractiveness.

You looked away when you realized that you had been staring at him for too long, feeling embarrassed by your gaze. You were aware that you had been staring for a while, and felt your face start to warm up. You kept your head lowered, focusing on your dinner as you tried to avoid looking at him.

"Thanks for the dinner, Zayne." You eventually finished the meal.

"You're welcome," Zayne responds politely, glad that you have enjoyed the dinner he cooked for you. He watches as you get up and heads towards the bathroom, noticing your head lowered as you did. He couldn't help but smile to himself for the fact that you liked his little gesture.

After spending some time in the bathroom, you emerge to your surprise finding Zayne in his place, his nose still buried in books. You were surprised that he was still studying despite the late time. You had thought that he would've already finished up and gone to bed by now; but it seemed like he was still dedicatedly studying.

"What happened to 'sleeping early to stay alert'?" you tease playfully, approaching him with a cup of green tea in hand. You gently place the cup on the desk, the steaming hot tea filling the nearby air with an aromatic scent. His stoic and practical approach to studying seems to have been abandoned in favor of continuing to ingest information even after an all-nighter.

"I may have underestimated this exam," Zayne answers, pushing his glasses up and adjusting his sitting position slightly. His eyes seem bleared, but his voice still remains calm and focused. He seems to have realized his mistake in overestimating his ability to study after an all-nighter, and is now recognizing how hard this examination will be.

“Take a break. I promised grandma to keep you alive this semester.” You pushed the cup of green tea closer to Zayne. You were aware that his study sessions were often intense and grueling, and would sometimes even include all-nighters.

Zayne sighed softly and sipped the tea, as it provided a much-needed warmth that softened his tense demeanor. The tea's warmth eased his tense muscles and made him feel slightly more relaxed, which was something he very much needed in the middle of a study session that felt like it would never end.

"That's the one I got at the train station when we first moved in here. I also added just a teaspoon of honey to really balance the flavors. What do you think?" you ask, sitting next to Zayne as you continue the conversation. Zayne noticed how you seem to be making an effort to keep the conversation going, wanting to engage with him more and to get his opinion on what you have done.

"It's really good. I can taste the difference between the usual and yours. The honey adds a nice subtle sweetness that really complements the flavors of the green tea.” She smiles in response to his compliment before peeking at the books on the desk, curious to see what he's currently studying. "What's got you so stressed anyways? Is it a certain subject?"

Zayne pauses for a moment, the steam from his cup of tea fogged up his glasses. Then, he finally replies, slowly and with a bit of hesitation in his voice, "Uh...yeah." You shrug, not particularly concerned about the situation at hand. You has faith in Zayne's abilities and intelligence, as you believe that he will eventually come around and figure it out. You spoke with a carefree and relaxed tone, as if the issue was trivial and not something to worry about. "You'll figure it out. You're smart, Zayne," you assured him, the last part of your statement being an expression of positivity.

Zayne appreciated the positivity from you, but he couldn't deny that he was not the best at the subject in question.

"Actually… I may not," he admits, his tone sounding slightly more genuine and honest. He was clearly not confident in his abilities, which was in contrast to your carefree and optimistic attitude.

Zayne took one particular book from his desk and handed it to you, as if surrendering. The title of the book caught your attention and sparked your curiosity, which read, "D.C Dutta's Textbook of Gynecology".

"I suppose I never really dabbled so much in this particular specialty," Zayne explained, still looking somewhat defeated and frustrated with himself. He was acknowledging that he had never really put much time and effort into studying this specific area of medicine.

He wasn't necessarily saying that he was completely unfamiliar with it, but he was admitting that he wasn't experienced enough to feel comfortable and confident with it. You chuckled, responding to his self-doubt and frustration. "Trust me, even us girls still figure it out as we get older."

Zayne tilts his head, “Are you suggesting that even from a female perspective, it is normal to not have everything completely figured out when it comes to this particular… specialty?”

“Oh yeah.”

“That’s even scarier.” Zayne comments, sipping his cup of tea and seeming to be slightly troubled by the revelation.

You lean forward to place the book back down the stack beside the table, and Zayne gently places his hand on the edge of the wooden surface to prevent you from knocking into it. When you got back up, the proximity in between you and Zayne flustered you; and the fact that his free arm was just on the couch behind you.

You felt your breath quicken and your cheeks start to warm, as if your body was involuntarily reacting to his subtle closeness.

"You know... since... I'm not sleepy anymore, maybe I can... help you out with that?" You ask, voice trembling slightly with shyness as you toy with the hem of your dress, a subtle gesture that added a flirtatious context.

Zayne's cheeks heated up when you made the flirty offer, as he was not expecting it. His breath catches in his throat, and he speaks in a breathy and slightly nervous tone, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N..."

"Why~?" You ask innocently, in reply to his flustered reaction to the offer.

"Because...I won't say no. I won't hold back," He responds, voice now growing even more flustered as he acknowledges that he is vulnerable.

Zayne's breath increased slightly, but he kept his movements subtle and respectful of your personal space. But despite this outward appearance of behavior and restraint, his eyes revealed a much different story. The way he was looking at you, with such intensity and desire, was a clear indication that he was feeling increasingly attracted to you and was struggling to resist your advances.

"Where do you need help~?" You ask candidly, your finger lightly tracing the frame of his glasses and causing him to shudder. Zayne finally caught your hand and locked eyes with you, the heat between them growing more intense as his hand overlapped yours. “Do you really want to help me?”

You noticed the way Zayne's eyes kept wandering down your body, as if you were his focal point of attention. You nodded and placed his hand on your hip, giving him permission to touch you. “I’m a girl, and I’m your friend, aren’t I?” Your playful and mischievous actions made the situation even more titillating.

“I’ve already gone through everything but…” He said, his voice slowly growing more confident and bold, as he grabbed your face. "We can go off-textbook..." He suggested brushing her hair in a sensuous way. His tone and manner were becoming more confident and bold, implying that he was willing to take things to a different level.

He was giving a subtle hint that he wanted to take things further, that he was ready and willing to explore your connection in a different way.

You lean down to whisper into his ear, "Yes...way better than photos and texts on paper," sending a shiver down his spine. You weren't just giving a playful response, but actually agreeing with his suggestion, making you even more provocative and irresistible and made him feel overwhelmed with desire.

Zayne sat you on his lap and held your chin, making contact and bringing you even closer. “I need to hear it from you, is this okay?” He asks, first, to make sure that he had your full consent before proceeding. Second, as a verification that it wasn't a dream, confirming that he had successfully taken you down this path.

"Yes, Zayne. I want this. Do you?" You confirmed, letting him know that you were willing to explore this connection further. You placed your hand on his chest, trying to feel the rhythm of his heart.

“Yes, please… teach me.” He was surprised by his own outburst of desire and infatuation, completely overwhelmed by your beauty and allure.

After stealing glances and gazes from each other's lips, Zayne finally took the first move to kiss you. The moment of your first kiss, your lips finally touching, felt even more intense and exhilarating because of this buildup.

Zayne sighed as you kissed, lifting you in his arms so that they could move to the couch together, continuing this intimate moment. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you and the way he moved with ease was like heaven.

He was taking initiative and taking you to a place where you could be more comfortable and where they could explore your desires to the fullest extent, which turned you on even more.

"You're even more beautiful to me right now, [ Y / N ]...may I see all of your beauty?" He asks softly, his hands now gently stroking your hair and taking in your physical presence and warmth. He was slowly building up the anticipation, slowly moving his hands down to parts of your body that would reveal your beauty even farther.

You are seeing a completely different side of Zayne, one that was passionate and expressive rather than just reserved and focused on productivity. And you were more than willing to allow him to dictate the pace at which things progressed. “Yes, we can go at your pace, okay? I know you have been studying so hard.” You place a kiss on his cheek, giving him the space and freedom to explore this more intimate side of himself.

Zayne lifted your dress and gasped softly when he saw what was underneath, astonished by your beautiful body. He proceeded to start from your tummy, using his large hands to gently stroke your skin with delicate touches and soft kisses. Every touch, every stroke, every kiss that he placed on you felt like sanctuary, as you felt him enjoying and fully appreciating every inch of your physique.

Zayne stops just on your lower abdomen, and he looks up at her as he says, "I'm gonna examine the figure now, my dear tutor." Instead of immediately moving to the more intimate parts of her body, he deliberately pauses before moving on to the next step to pull your panties off.

Zayne is still in the process of studying and learning about the beauty of the female figure, so seeing your body for the very first time is quite an experience for him. He had seen pictures and read many things in books, but there is nothing like the real deal. He wants to explore and examine your body but doesn't know where to start and unsure of how to proceed.

You found his flustered reaction so adorable and sweet. “Why don't you… tell me what you know~?” You sit up slightly to stroke his cheek,

Zayne’s breath was hot against your soaked pussy, he brushed his thumb against your entrance, inspecting the sheen layer of arousal. “I see that this is the physiological activation response of the dopaminergic and serotonergic system to my… stimulation.” He made eye contact with you by the end of his sentence. All the scientific terms and smart talking was adding to your arousal.

Zayne took your wrist with his other hand and pressed his fingers against the side, feeling your pulse. “Increased heart rate, too. I'm flattered.” He chuckled softly and let go of your hand, his thumb still sliding against your entrance.

“Yes, I'm very turned on right now.” You sigh softly, pussy clenching around itself as he keeps teasing your entrance. “Good, good…” He whispered, now taking his index and middle finger to run up your labia. “Your skin here is sensitive, I shall be careful.” He spoke, leaning forward to get a better look. He adored the way your folds reacted to his fingers with every stroke and spread. “Zayne…” You sighed softly, your back falling back onto the throw pillows as his fingers explored your pussy. You were already struggling keeping your legs open and he was just barely getting started.

“H—ahhh—hhh” You let out your first moan of the night when his fingers come in contact with your clit. “Oh, did I find it right away?” His question laced with smugness to it. “Yes, you did.” Your eyes fluttered close when he established a slow rhythm circling it.

“This is the most erogenous area of the female anatomy, is it for you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your preferences. “Yes, I like being touched there.” Your legs tangled together on his back to pull him closer. “My, my…” Zayne’s breath started to uneven, his face heating up and glasses falling down his nose.

Zayne wants to forget his med school responsibilities for this moment, and he wants to simply enjoy the moment with you, focusing solely on you and your pleasure.

He wants to show his dedication to you in a tangible way. The medical studies and the test can wait, as he knows that he is currently with the girl he likes and he doesn't want to waste any time.

“Mmm— try to relax, dear… I’ll try to be thorough with you.” Zayne’s words made you quiver before you felt a finger slipping inside your pussy, making you gasp loudly. His fingers were long.

“Ah, yes, doctor… please…” You begged. All it would take from him was a little more of this and you would reach your peak. Almost immediately. But Zayne wants the moment to last longer. He used his finger just inside you to slide it around your opening and spread your arousal across your entire labia. Adding another finger, he penetrated even deeper and without warning, his digits crooked up and started to stroke your g-spot.

“Such a good study aid for me.” He sighed. “This soft spot here… it’s fascinating… does it feel good to you when I do this?” He made eye contact with you, your heart rate increasing rapidly. “Yes, when you do it, it feels so good.” You pant in between whimpers, subconsciously grinding your pussy on his hand. You find it so sweet and sexy of him to be checking and asking you these. He is reaching spots that you couldn’t with your own fingers.

“Ah— Zayne—” You almost screamed out when he placed a delicate kiss on your clit. You try to stifle a loud moan but it was too much to take. “May I try a more oral approach?” You stroke his hair and nod. Zayne’s cheeks flushed and attached his lips to your sensitive bud once more, closing his eyes as he sucked softly.

You tilt your head back, eyelids fluttering and trying to stay sane. Feeling it for the first time drives you to a new place; the sight of his head in between your legs, and the sounds from his lips truly sends you over.

He grips your thigh for support as he pushes his fingers deeper. He lifts one of your legs higher to slide more of his digits inside you, his mouth still latched on your clit and his tongue swiping your folds every now and then. You gasp and struggle against his strong arms.

“Mm—mmmh, you’re so good.” Zayne pulled away from your cunt and curled his digits on a different angle. His final touch sent you hurtling off the edge and your pussy erupted in a massive orgasm, your juices drenching his hand, making him gasp in response.

“I made you—”

“Yes, you did.” You whispered as your body kept quivering. He stepped back and you noticed the massive bulge straining in his trousers. “I think we need to do a more thorough internal exam, [ Y / N ]. Is that okay with you?” Zayne shyly pushed his glasses back up, a trace of your orgasm dropping down the lens.

You got up from the couch and held Zayne's hands, your bodies close together once more as you spoke. “From this point on, we have to learn together, because...it’ll be my first time doing this.,” You speak softly, looking into his eyes.

Zayne lightly stroked your cheek with confidence and certainty, his facial expression reflective of that. "Me too. Let's trust our feelings, okay?" He says. The mutual trust and willingness to follow your instincts is stronger now.

Zayne grabs her thighs and lifts her up in his arms, giving her a soft kiss. "Your room or mine?" He asks playfully, offering two choices. The ball is in Y/N's court, and he's giving her the chance to make the ultimate choice.

It doesn't matter. I want you. She answers confidently, making it clear that she's ready and willing to take things further and that she also wants him. Zayne nods and opts to bring it to your bedroom, giving you deep and slow kisses.

Zayne gently lays her down on the bed, kissing her gently and tenderly. Zayne keeps the kiss careful, as if he's being thoughtful and mindful of how delicate she might be feeling with what you are about to do.

"Do you...have protection?" You ask tentatively when you pull away, unsure of whether you should even say that out loud.

"Shit" He rarely curses, and that catches you off guard. He looks frustrated, and you can tell that he's annoyed by the situation. He says, "Well, since we're on the topic, I don't have any on me.."

"Don’t worry about that…I... have some." You shyly admit, letting him know that she does have protection, which puts his concerns to rest… for now.

A moment of relief for him as he took the box from your hand and saw that you had planned for protection. He took out his size, although he also questioned why you had these on hand.

Were you going to bring anyone else with you? An unusual sense of possessiveness surged to his neck, as though it were choking him. He fought out since he never wanted to think of you doing this with someone else but also didn't want to spoil the moment.

As if you had read his mind, you quickly tossed the box aside. “It’s not what you think!” you exclaimed, as you knew how this looked to him. “It’s a gag gift from Jenna for my last birthday.” You shyly admit.

You were cut off by Zayne's quiet laughter. “[ Y / N ], it’s okay, I believe you.” All traces of the dark possessiveness had vanished.

Zayne rises to his feet, his fingers making a descent down the front of his black shirt, slowly releasing each button as his eyes rake over your body. Parting your legs, you make space for him.

He removes the tie in the same unhurried fashion, seemingly content with his view of you. He shrugs out of the shirt sleeves, exposing curved biceps and defined pecs and abs. Then he crouches to remove his socks, never looking away.

You have such a keen sense of his proximity, the rhythm of his breaths, and the minute movements of his hands. It is rooted in the libido you get from being in his presence and is reinforced by the certainty that he will never let you down.

He moves as efficiently as possible, opening his slacks, releasing the belt, and shoving the remaining items of clothing onto the ground. His rock-hard body parts have been glimpsed in bits and pieces, but never all of him at once, fully nude.

His manhood lifts, protruding beyond the toned muscles on his v-line. He leans down with his eyes fixed on yours and an intense expression.

His eyes have a predatory look that makes you gasp. With his legs on the outside of yours, he crawls over you, straddling your thighs and prowling on hands and knees.

You were expecting him to pry open your legs and thrust between them, but he has consistently shown that he is not like the others.

With his mouth fused to yours, he hovers over you, caressing and fondling your thighs, chest, and hips with his hand. you can't breathe for how much his heavenly touches, heavy breathing, and passionate tongue drive you wild.

You tug at his shoulder, attempting to bring him closer. "Take off my dress, Zayne?"

Squeezing your thighs together, he uses both hands to remove the dress before lowering himself on top of you. His chest covers yours with muscle and heat while his eyes search your face as his weight presses you both into the mattress.

Your mouth opens to a delicious gasp, and he seizes it, his lips strong and aggressive, all his, his tongue sliding and claiming. His power acts as a shield, his large stature envelopes you, and his hands, seemingly in prayer, hold your face.

With your hips grinding greedily and your foreheads pressed together, you kiss through an infinite symphony of moans and heartbeats. Your bodies convulse in unison, holding the steely expanse of him in between you.

You squeeze your fingers around his cock, enjoying the sound of his strangled breath. His hips shift beneath you, his voice tortured. “Do you want to… top?” You nod without thinking twice.

In the next breath, he flips you, rolling you on top and folding your legs to straddle his hips. God, he's strong.

“I'll hold you. I'm going to lie and hold still until you tell me to move.” He softly strokes your hip. Until you gaze down at the huge, long cock rising up in front of you. Nervous energy trickles through your veins. You grip his shaft with both hands, stroking up and down, reacquainting yourself with his size. "Will it fit, Zayne?” Your breath rushes out.

“Mmhmm, we'll make it fit.” He chuckles softly and slides his palms up your torso, then plants a needy kiss on your lips.

You bend down and place a kiss over his temple, then you rise on your knees and help him put the condom on before positioning him between your legs.

True to his word, he doesn't thrust or move his hands. His eyes glow like a galaxy as he waits for you to draw him inside.

You lower onto him, inch by inch, marveling at the stretching sensation, the easy slide, the perfect fit. It's never this wet, this careful. You felt so full. Hungry. Relieved.

The sound of his guttural groan spurs you faster. When he's all the way in, you squeeze your inner muscles around him.

Zayne’s eyes clamped shut, muscles flexing in his jaw, his body relaxed beneath you. His eyes are shut. "Zayne?"

A throaty grunt is the only response he gives, charging your already overloaded senses with giddiness. And you haven't even moved yet.

You lean forward and press my lips to the ridge of his tense chest, then take off his glasses so he could be more comfortable. "This is it. We're doing it."

His eyes fly open, and he releases a satisfied chuckle. “Are we?” His hands tighten around your hips, his glare hard and demanding. "Fuck me, [ Y / N ]."

You were surprised by his sudden desperate and lewd display of affection. You roll your hips, testing the feel of him sliding against your insides and filling you with jolts of static.

His entire body trembles beneath you. “[ Y / N ]...” He wanted to move.

With your palms on his chest, you rotate along his shaft, lifting and rocking. The dragging, tickling strokes are unreal. The little shocks of electricity, the panting sounds of our breaths, everything centers around where you're joined.

You let loose, lifting your arms behind your head, closing your eyes, and circling your hips. When you bounce, your breasts press against his chest and the bed frame creaks. When you rock, your clit convulses.

“[ Y / N ]...” The headboard groans on his back.

You open your eyes and collide with his, a smile pulling at your cheeks. "You’re…good." You kiss his nose.

"God, [ Y / N ]." His biceps flex around your body, his thighs hardening beneath you. "I've never felt so…good."

“Move, Zayne. You can move…” You say and slide up his chest and thrust your hips, delighting in the feeling of the new angle. When you reach his lips, his tongue seeks yours, twirling and tasting.

If he wasn't your roommate and hadn't known him since childhood, you wouldn't believe that this is the first time he's felt the touch of a woman.

His kisses strengthen the brewing tide inside you. You sweep your hands over his biceps and cup his face. He deepens the kiss, the strong stretch of his jaw as erotic as the sinful way he glides his tongue.

With your hands on his face, you kiss him fiercely, passionately, while working your pussy up and down his length, while he dabbles with gentle thrusts.

"It's tight…" He grunts softly when you squeezed him with your pelvic muscles just to reinforce that side of things for him. It felt so naughty to be fucking your hot friend right in your bed. You could hear his cock sliding in and out of your slick tunnel with every thrust.

"I can make you feel better." You panted. Sliding a hand between your legs, you began to play with yourclit, knowing that it would make you squeeze and cum. The combination made your back arch hard and made you have to bite down on Zayne’s lips to stifle a loud moan.

"Come for me again..." He groaned softly, eyes fluttering close. And you did, your entire cunt contracting and you felt yourself squirt all over his cock, puddling out of your pussy and onto your bedsheets. He closed his eyes and you could feel your muscles milking his impressive dick into an orgasm.

When he opened then he met yours and it was almost primal the way he was looking at you— like you were the hottest woman he'd ever seen. His hips sped up and you feel yourself being pushed to another orgasm.

With one last thrust, his throbbing cock and fills up the condom, cock still balls deep inside you. The thick white stream kept coming as he gripped your hips and gasped silently.

"[ Y / N ]..." he gripped his cock and pulled out, stroking it, then pushing out the last few drops of his load.

“So Zayne, did you learn anything?" Your breath was coming in short pants. You let a finger trail down his abs while you both recovered from your highs. "I think you were quite thorough." His eyes followed your finger and you watched his muscles twitch before taking off the protection and tossing it to the trash can.

"I've learned a lot. Definitely." He gently lay you on his side and put your hair aside. He surprised you by grabbing your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.

"Are you feeling okay?" Zayne asks, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and pleased.

“Yes, you?”

"Yes, I am." You respond as he smiles down at you, adoring the way you brush the raven curtain from his face.

"Want me to change the sheets?" Zayne offered, wanting to make sure you had a comfortable sleeping environment. "No, stay, please..." The way you insisted him to stay, the way you wanted to not end the moment, made his stomach flutter in a different way entirely.

"But, can we sleep in your bed?" You look up at him with puppy eyes and he cannot resist that sight.

He smiles back and accepts your request, "Of course.” Zayne scoops you up in his arms and covers you with a blanket to keep you sheltered and warm from feeling exposed.

You lay together in bed and he holds you close against him, your head resting against his chest as your body lies next to his. "Comfy?" he says as he gently grabs your hand and kisses it.

"Very," He can feel your soft and sweet kisses on his neck, and he enjoys the warmth of your body as curled up next to him.

"Tomorrow... let me take you out for breakfast." Zayne says, kissing your forehead softly as he asks.

"How about your exam?" You ask, mentioning his test.

"It won't be until noon…” Zayne strokes your back. “Maybe we can squeeze in a last minute review too?"

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #zayne x reader #zayne x reader smut #lds #lads zayne #lads #l&ds #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #love & deepspace

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sharkenedfangs · 4 months ago

Text

— ☆ “IN THE IMAGE OF YOU.”

— #. synopsis. all in all, the entirety of what was meant to be said, thoroughly snuffed out by a stuttered curse is hastily stifled in favour of carefully processing what he’s currently being greeted with, once again. little shit that dared to impulsively walk upon an important moment meant to be properly spent with himself, and of course— it’s you of all people responsible for that result. well, not exactly you— but, still you.

— #. content warning! dub-con, anal fucking, degradation, brief mentions of past bullying entailing physical abuse, coercion, implications of medical malpractice, doctor harper behind the scenes, former bastard or not— neurosurgeon male whitney, amnesiac male reader and some actual pining on the blonde’s part.

— #. word count? 5.2k — longer than initially intended.

— #. what is it this time, asher? : “pretty sure you’re not supposed to trust the filthy doctors in this town, including your ex-bully. better luck next time. this one is for my dear shoku, @shoknsfw.”

Though, perhaps the very last of things Whitney would’ve predictably expected there to be, patiently awaiting for him at the end of the day, would be— well, this thing. Not that he necessarily knows what the actual fuck ‘this’ is, but he’s getting the slightest idea that his boss is as fuckin’ insane as he had initially thought of him to be. Or others, in the past, have repeatedly warned him so of, too.

Sure, he’s not a mindless moron and he remains acutely aware of the shady rumours carelessly thrown around here and there amongst the nosy patients, accompanied by that fuckin’ Sydney profusely muttering out against his boss. Some incoherent tangent, he — himself, wouldn’t genuinely understand either way, fuck. Still, this.. This wasn’t in the goddamn job description nor did he ever truly expect it to be cuz’ there’s no way in hell he would’ve so easily accepted a simple offer such as this one. Seamlessly roping him into another one of his sick experiments, notably those involving others without their spoken consent, and would’ya look at that?

Naively fell for it this time without sparing the slightest thought as to why — doctor Harper of all people — would be in potential need of his gracious help. Idiot, ever heard of that freak selflessly askin’ for one’s hand in a time of desperation, openly expressing his innate admission to defeat? Real funny, huh? Not so fuckin’ funny when he’s awkwardly left to deal with this complex issue within his own working hours, said time originally meant to be taken as a mere moment of solitude, of some much-needed tranquility in exchange for his gruelling hours tirelessly spent in good efforts, now solely ruined by this unfaithful encounter.

Okay, cutting the entire crap up— it was originally intended to be spent miserably jerking off alone in the middle of his office like some crude loser. Not that he’d ever truthfully admit it to anyone, this.. otherwise unhealthy habit or perhaps, addiction he’s progressively took on due to the sheer amount of stress burdening him as a surgeon, weighing upon his slouched shoulders everyday. It’s— It’s not like it’s fuckin’ bad! Coping mechanism or whatever, it beats the stinking scent of nicotine faintly lingering on the material of his coat, a hint of the godawful smell, repeatedly going out for a ‘quick’ smoke whenever things gradually took its toll on him to the point it’d annoyingly kept him from getting some precious shut-eye at night. Like he possibly needed more on his already, busy and stuffed plate too, of all times.

All in all, the entirety of what was meant to be said, thoroughly snuffed out by a stuttered curse is hastily stifled in favour of carefully processing what he’s currently being greeted with, once again. Little shit that dared to impulsively walk upon an important moment meant to be properly spent with himself, and of course— it’s you of all people responsible for that result. Well, not exactly you— but, still you.

See, the tentative peering of your gaze, quizzical cock of your head noticeably tilting to the edge of the doorway to openly display your shared confusion at his presence, the same way he, himself, is not entirely amused by your sudden pop-in either. “Hello— Oh, you’re not mister.. Harper, are you?” Stupid fuckin’ scanning of his slouched frame sat atop the creaking, wooden chair audibly squeaking throughout the otherwise narrow room and— god, why do they build these things so damn loud?? Not the point here, y’a moron.

Sputtering out a cuss out of pure habit because sure, he’s a professional doctor now or should be notably referred to as such, however, doesn’t mean he’s about to fully give out on his old, habitual gestures. Nearly had a heart attack at the ripe age of twenty-one due to your sheer incompetence and, ah— he’s becoming like those old folks repetitively reprimanding younger people for their lack of care and attentiveness or.. something. Fuck, either way, therein lies the single question in his mind; what are you, of all people, precisely doing here? In the staffs room of all places?

“Shit, you scared me..” Huffing out annoyingly at your unwanted arrival or maybe, it is a good coincidence that he’s luckily granted with a long-awaited reunion with one of his memorable victims in high school. Fleeting days he had long since pushed past by then, but.. he’s not entirely against the mere idea of sneakily revisiting that foggy era solely for the sake of recollecting those notable, cute expressions you’d make, all scrunched up and flustered.. Spurred on further by the fuckin’ sounds of yours too, in the narrow stalls of the bathroom and, fuck— Enough of that, gotta get to the point one way or another to initially receive a reply to his beckoning curiosity itching to be answered. “Why’re you even here? What? Got an appointment with Harper or somethin’? Well, he’s not here and I don’t know where he is, so either you come back later or just—“

“An appointment? No, no. I just was supposed to put these— here, and— Sorry, was I not supposed to come here?” Plainly interrupting him with your oddly.. formal way of speaking. Since when the fuck do you even speak like that again? Last time he’s checked — which was years ago— you’re not exactly the eloquent type like that goody-two shoes Sydney nor overly polite like Robin either. You’re just. Fuck, well— you’re you with a hint of defiance. Not this. Whatever this is.

“..No, this is the staffs room. I don’t see why the hell you’re even here to begin with. Do you need something? I’m sort of in the middle of my break right now.” He grunts in return, visible scowl appearing upon his sharp features to then, thereafter, dissipate entirely when met with your confused face to his gruff response.

Right, right. Supposedly obligated to keep up with all that polite etiquette crap which he miserably fails to do so in the face of your presence. How your pathetic, little self comes and numbly reduce him to the rebellious bully he previously once was truly fuckin’ messes with him. Because, there’s no goddamn way that your reaction towards him, after all these years— after every shitty thing he’s done to you, especially the whole sucking off thing — would be so minimal, right?? Or has he become so unrecognizable in the span of just a few years that you, yourself, don’t precisely know who he, in fact, truthfully is? Surely, a slight shift in his usually messy, ruffled hair now mildly slicked back to intently follow hospital’s policies and a pair of glasses isn’t that major of a change, is it?

Unless you’re as stupid as he had thought of you to be, blatantly ignoring that minute detail of forcibly shoving his every homework and assignment on you too. Hah, funny. Even funnier is that blank look you absentmindedly regard him with, as if you’re not quickly getting the fuckin’ hint that he’d like some alone time now. Real fast on that area, aren’t ya? Slut. Get on with it already.

“Huh, I could’ve sworn I got the right room though..” Your subtle head shakes and spared glances around to anywhere but him shouldn’t be so damn cute to him. Fuck, he sure as hell would like to redirect your precious attention to him only. Like a petulant child secretly throwing a tantrum for the lack of importance currently being given to him here.

Arms expectantly crossed across his broad chest, foot idly tapping against the tiled floor below in a pure display of his ever burgeoning impatience. “Well? Answer the question. Do you need something or not?”

“Um, well— yes. Mister Harper told me to put these here and gather a sample from.. someone.” Mister Harper? Why’re you even.. referring to him as that, unless.. Hesitancy lacing your tone as if he isn’t carefully hanging upon every lull within your voice, ah— how he’s actually missed the lilt of it during the excruciatingly long lessons of math class being boringly taught to by that.. one teacher. What’s their name again? Right, River. Something like that.

“Um.. I’m sorry, have we.. met before? Are you Whitney, by any chance?” Promptly blurting that out of the blue, puzzling gaze deftly meeting his as his own eyes immediately widen in exchange. Finally recognized him? Is that it? Was about damn time already and he’s not one to particularly lie in situations such as these ones, right? More like he desires to hungrily drink in the mere sight of your face, the slightest flicker of recognition amongst your softened features when reality fully settles in.

That meek demeanour you’ve adopted so abruptly towards him does irk him however, to say the least. Never really been the timid type nor the likes when it came to him, if anything, you’d openly be opposed to his every cruel method of tormenting others. Hell, he’d know it— he’s grown familiar with your childish antics by now despite the warping time easily slipping past his tight-held grasp. Hah, knows it better than anyone else when it comes to you, as cheesy and downright ironic that might appear to others. A bully cheekily aware of their victim’s peculiarities and this, right here, is bound to take its due course.

“Yeah, that’s right. That’s me. Long time no see, huh?” Clicking his tongue in this unadulterated need, itch meant to be satiated— fuck, in utter disbelief that he almost called you by that old nickname once again. Slut. As much as he’d like to dumbly feign ignorance considering the circumstances at hand, that this is the most uncomfortable way you could possibly reunite with someone of your high school days— he knows better than to do so.

Continuing on further, maybe as an idle distraction for the aching hard-on fervently twitching against the front of his trousers, hopefully concealed enough by his slouched posture or otherwise awkward angle from below here. Wouldn’t want you taking notice of that, would he? “So, are you going to tell me what’re you actually doing here or not? I’ve got things to do and only staff are permitted to enter this room.” Skip the formalities goddamnit and just get to the fuckin’ point! He’s got one to rub out here and the annoying, pretty face he’s used to stupidly jack off to, in high school — suddenly appearing before him out of nowhere — isn’t necessarily helping matters here either!

“Oh— I see, so that means you’re.. the guy that—” Jesus Christ, he’s uncertain whether to sarcastically repeat your dumbfounded expression in a snarky remark or simply shut himself up in favour of awaiting for your next move. Though, of course, you promptly do the honours for him in return to the affirmed confirmation to your confused questioning. And truly, nothing could’ve properly prepared him for the next set of your unpredictable actions as your peering gaze soon shifts to that of unbridled shock at the sudden discovery of his identity — to then, take on that oddly bright glimmer within your eyes. Little scrunch of your nose, ah fuck— shouldn’t be so cute — as if carefully processing this newfound fact, innocent tilt and frown ever so slowly creeping up to the corner of your rosy lips in a pure display of perplexity in face of this.

“Excuse me, sir.. But I really need to do this real quick, if you don’t mind.” Why’re you suddenly settled atop the barely dusted ground, on your knees and— and, fuckin’ looking so goddamn methodical for?? Blatantly discarding the mere fact that you’re also, brazenly acting like a complete stranger in this instant, impulsively throwing yourself onto him — whether it’d be with open arms invitingly welcoming you or not — openly placing your oddly cold palms against his sides, practically clinging upon his frame for no reason whatsoever other than.. God, actually why’re you fuckin’ tugging at the hem of his— his pants, right now?! Fumbling at his zipper, hastily unbuckling his belt with a light jingle to irresponsibly sprawl across the tiled floor.

“H-Hey! Wha—What the fuck’re you doing??” Blubbering out, in sheer, utter shock when his legs should’ve notably been begging him to move, kick you away like some other stray cat uselessly pawing at him in one of the deserted alleyways, yet his feet remain firmly planted onto the floor — paralyzed even, reeled off his initial tracks as this naturally plays out to the likes of a.. cheap, porno film.

Y’know, the ones he’d absently flip through whenever work drew on a bit too slowly for his tastes, randomly picked the nearest magazine idly displayed on his side and there you go; Bunch of freaks fuckin’ bringing shitty porn in a sacred place, namely the clinic he dutifully worked in. Ain’t that funny? Not that he can’t similarly sympathize, he’s just as much as a pervert as those lustful patients, just better at concealing it.

Oh, who’s he fuckin’ kidding? Conceal? Like the painfully evident hard-on visibly twitching against his boxers, soaking wet patch of sticky pre-cum darkening the shade humiliatingly bare for your eyes to calmly take in. Feathered breaths wistfully close along the outline of his aching dick insistently throbbing in response to the puff of heated air blown out— god, way too fucking close for his tastes. Yeah, he’s known you for being surprisingly crude at certain times, specially when you’d actually readily obey to his orders in math class like sloppily sucking him off, messily coating his cock in a layer of translucent spit underneath the wobbly desk while slobbering all over his fat balls as he made no effort to stifle his guttural groans, but— but, damn.. Thought you would’ve left those slutty tendencies long behind you after those few years, slut. Guess he’s thought wrong and been disproven once again.

“I’m taking a sample as I promised mister Harper that I would. Now stay still for me, it’ll just take a second — a couple minutes, to be exact if all goes well.” Mister Harper this, mister Harper that, he’s got half a mind to curiously question you as to what’s up with the unnatural, formal name calling because since when did you refer to the local doctor in town — partially known for being a freak by a limited bunch, though few actually made it out to tentatively whisper out the tale — as Mister?? Which, his main objection should logically be plainly getting you off of him, but with his arms hanging limply at his sides, instead settling upon reluctantly tugging at the silky strands of your hair, he’s not making much progress to say the least.

“S-Sample?? Sample of what— fuck! Get your hands off my fuckin’ pants before I report your ass to security!!” Preferably, he would’ve unavoidably settled with knocking the lights out of you— still, is a tad bit too far lest he wants to get fired from his prestigious job — ah, since when is being a surgeon tirelessly worked to death exactly seen as an accomplishment again? To hell with this, he should’ve been a smuggler or some shit.

“I need a sample of your semen, so you just gotta keep still for a second.” As you assertively claim your reasoning for this all which still makes no sense, by the way— why the fuck would you or should he say, doctor Harper need his fucking jizz in the first place anyway? “What was it again.. Need to stimulate this part of your dick till you climax, correct?” Alright, now you’re just being too clinical with your wording, shivering into your touch, the delicate trace of your supple fingertip running along the curve of the veiny underside of his shaft nearly enough to have him push aside the unbelievable logistics of what this is inevitably leading to.

Beyond that puzzling rambling, a tinge of disgust lurches in his heart, towards himself for being unable to lay the slightest hand on your angelic face due to how adorable you appear in this moment. Pretty, stupid fuckin’ pretty boy, god. Said it twice cuz’ that’s just how pretty you are to him. Despite literally forcing him to be naked from the waist down against his will, okay— not fully convinced about that last part. This is playing out too well like one of his depraved fantasies, you, all obedient and pliable, pushing him to his withering limits.

And if your insistent, albeit nonsensical explanation is meant to supposedly soothe his frantic panic and bewilderment of this unfavourable situation, then that’s immediately thrown out the window as your invasive hands shamelessly strip him down to basically nothing, save for his boxers that’s also— ah, fucking shit.. swiftly being chucked down too. Muttered curses and maybe, the meanest swears and insults that would’ve put a seasoned sailor to shame, aimlessly falling upon deaf ears. After all, he’s but a man, is he not? So, don’t fault him for his body to instinctively experience a natural reaction when a pretty mouth is so stupidly close to his bare cock, springing free of its unbearable confines to then audibly slap against his toned stomach, smear the already present, pearly pre-cum along the curve of his tummy with a sigh. Fuck, he’d just about pin you down and fill you to the brim right then and there, as if.

So what’s stopping him from doing so anyway?

Clearly, you’re asking for it, if not in the weirdest of ways. Cleanly popping his leaking cock between your too soft lips, outwardly hissing at the wet warmth he’s sought to crave late at night with his sheets haphazardly thrown aside to give way to his fat, drooling cock frustratingly squeezed in the cup of his palm. Red, hot tip dribbling out thick globs of pre-cum along his tense tummy, arm lazily thrown over his face to stifle his ever growing curses of dissatisfaction. Not enough though, not fucking enough— because nothing truly beats the squishy, tight insides he’s come to secretly cherish, if not take for granted, of his stupid, little slut. An addict is what he is, pathetically yearning for the chance to at the very least, indulge himself once more in that sickly, tight heat one last time, just one last fuckin’ time, god. Upper lip curling upward at the sheer thought as he miserably drives himself to shoot his spent seed, messily splattering along his stomach to then paint his chest white in the same crude manner. What a fucking sight, huh. Whitney, former bully in the making, stained in his own cum cuz’ no other bitch does it for him much like you do.

But, as often spoken by most— old habits die hard, do they fuckin’ not? It’s instinct on his part, so you really shouldn’t cruelly place the fault onto him when he’s practically manhandling you on the squeaking bed instead, usually meant for carefully inspecting sickly patients and the likes. New purpose found, he guesses. “Fine, you wanna do this then? I’ll give y’a my fuckin’ cum you’re so desperately askin’ for, you whore— so, don’t start crying now.”Crinkly, thin, barely translucent sheet of paper laid atop the surface, audibly shifting underneath your sudden weight. Thought you had him beat? Well, guess what? He’s kept you snugly stuck beneath the heel of his foot during the entirety of high school, so what’s the goddamn difference if he does it now as older adults?

Just.. a slight change in the way it’s done and, you wouldn’t mind, would you? By the looks of it, familiar squeaks he’s recurrently heard, partially muffled by the thumping blood hurriedly rushing to his head— and fucking south too, though that doesn’t need to be said twice, y’know. Heaving groan at the feel of his bare cock already instinctively rubbing himself against the outline of your own, cute cock incidentally stuck in your pants. Collective, shared gasps slipped out in tandem with each full rub of his twitching length smearing a sticky mess across the patched outline of your shorts.

“Fuck.” Cute. Unconsciously cursing to himself at the welcoming warmth your soft body provides when encompassed by his own bigger one— know how much he’s missed ya all this time? Pawing hands that he somehow can’t manage to keep to himself when you’re around, and it’s not his fault, really. Zeroing gaze descending downwards to where your leaking cock rests so cutely against your tummy, fuckin’ asking for it, aren’t you?

Did ‘mister Harper’ make you wear those all-too tight, fitting shorts to accentuate your plush thighs or somethin’ too, huh? Prepped you all up and pretty for him? Speaking of that freak, he’ll make note to visit the little cunt later once he’s done with you, either punch the lights out of him or reluctantly thank him for the opportunity made by him— maybe both, actually. Far too busy in greedily inhaling the dizzyingly sweet scent exuding out of your frame, no matter how weird that may seemingly appear to others. Comfortably tucking his nose in the crook of your neck in favour of mindlessly humping himself stupid between your forcibly spread legs to actually catch the slight tilt of his glasses slipping downwards, on the verge of falling forth before coincidentally caught by your fumbling hands slicked in sweat. Aren’t you so helpful? Gotta hand it to ya, your preventive action merely spurs on this creeping idea in his disgusting mind, itch meant to be satiated as he coldly dotes a single, rather simple order upon you.

“Put ‘em on.” He simply grunts out of the blue, gaze fixated on the quiver of your bottom lip, ah— fuck. He’d like to suck on it and stain it sticky with his cum and spit, give it a little bite while he’s at it too, watch it prettily bloom red beneath the sharpness of his teeth. Would look so cute like that, wouldn’t y’a?

“Huh?” Wide, puzzled eyes confusingly blinking back at him cuz’ isn’t it obvious what he’s asking for? He wants you to slip on those pair of glasses, his glasses, to be exact.

“I said, put ‘em on.” Even if the gesture itself, despite not being that big of a deal brings a certain, feverish heat to his cheeks as it’s sort of intimate for a man like Whitney to be willingly shoving his property onto another, generously sharing it with you his own possession like the glasses he routinely wears to work everyday. Useless to repeat himself any further, but like a good boy, you abide to his crystal clear instructions— shakily placing the rims onto yourself, breath immediately caught in his throat at the sight of your averting eyes stubbornly set downcast to avoid his piercing gaze boring a hole into your flushing face.

God, you’re way too cute for your own good, aren’t you? Something— something about you wearing those— his glasses, to be exact, has his mouth dumbly hanging open, palms eagerly pawing at your supple legs, tender flesh beneath his grasp that’s so fuckin’ delicate it might as well break, decisively ripping your shorts down to display your soft, wanting hole for his awaiting, throbbing cock. “W-Wait! Don’t look!”Cutest squeaks he’s ever heard as your palms instantly cover your puckered entrance and cock like that’ll actually stop him from repeatedly slamming his entire length inside your fragile body, openly snarling at your measly attempt to hide your wet and ready hole from his prying eyes greedily drinking in the pretty sight that greets him in return— etch it to memory if he could and oh, he will. Whether you want it or not.

“Fucking shit— and you act like you don’t want it. Don’t go lying to me when you want it just as bad as I do.” It’s a bold admission on his part, yet he remains intricately aware that he’s the one who’s right here, isn’t he? Hand raising upwards to meet your face, hopefully untouched by that other freak’s claws or he might as well bust his face in too. Calloused thumb uncharacteristically tender in its strokes along your blazing cheeks. Little, heated sighs of apparent relief once you’ve eased into the blonde’s abnormally soft touch to then, suddenly morph to a rougher form as his fingers harshly dig in the softness of your cheeks, forcibly keeping you in his hold so that he may direct your gaze to his own figure towering over yours. Bitten lip meant to fuck, loudly sighing at your annoyingly cute face accompanied by his smudged glasses resting atop your nose. “Look what’ya do to me, gettin’ me all hard and shit, and then you suddenly wanna back out now? No fucking way, slut. I’ll give you what you want— I’ll give you my fuckin’ cum, so keep still for me.”

Not a heeding warning, but a command which you should notably be listening to, by the way, if you’ve retained any foggy memories of the shit he’s cruelly had you endure back in high school. Plush thighs firmly pinned against your chest, full view of your tight, little hole, ass and balls to appreciatively take in for the briefest of moments. Ah, he’s missed this so goddamn bad, y’know? Directly lining up his pulsing cock head dribbling out fat globs of pre along your entrance, relishing in that curled, wide-eyed expression of yours, parted lips he’d like to just shove his slippery tongue into— fuck. Either mixed with utter fear or maybe, actual, shared desire for this as much too, that he’ll settle upon it being both for the sake of his sadistic mind. You wear fear pretty well, don’t’cha think?

So much so that he can’t help, but precariously crane his head over to fully paint the sight to mind like the prettiest of pictures he’s ever been graciously blessed to witness. “Pretty.” He muses inwardly, subconsciously, without the slightest sense of awareness of the overly soft praise he’s just given you. Too fuckin’ busy in cutting himself off as the slippery wet tip of his fat cock so effortlessly slides in your tight hole with ease, no sense of handling you with care when you’ve been such a damn tease about it too— because ah, fuck— know just how long he’s been waiting for this opportunity? Fucking, slicked walls instinctually clamping down around his throbbing length, hissing at the burning stretch of your hole gradually accommodating to the girth of his cock. Muted whines, fluttering lashes wet with bubbling tears threatening to spill forth, pink tongue discreetly peeking out to delicately lick away at the sheer proof that he’s potentially hurting you, or maybe not. Looks more like you actually enjoy having a fat cock up your ass— your ex-bully’s too.

Conflicted between the helpless babbles the sharp, punishing snap of his hips flush against your backside draw out from you and the scrunch of your features undeniably spelling pleasure. “Fuck— hah, fuck.. D-Don’t look at me like that. I’m fuckin’ giving you what you’re asking for, aren’t I?” God, he looks just as dumb as you right now, head thrown back, eyes automatically rolling to meet his skull from just how goddamn nice it is to be snugly stuffing your whorish boy hole full of his twitching length— fuuuuuckkk. Golden locks of hair unceremoniously tumbling forth to conceal the strained expression etched along his face, biting of his bottom lip and the sharp puffs of air endlessly being exhaled out of his hanging mouth. Palms locked upon your slutty waist, practically using your lithe frame as though you were a squishy flesh light— which, by all means, you definitely beat the actual feel of it, shit, only your stupidly warm hole would’ve gotten him this dizzyingly high off of the wet sensation enveloping his cock. Only stupid, little, ol’ you— really.

Frustratingly gritting his teeth at your feeble head shakes despite the full-on body shudders of your quivering legs held— no, fucking raised high, feet resting atop his shoulders mainly used as a means of support. “N-No— ah, don’t l-like it. Uh, I don’t like it—” Alright, keep telling yourself that then, with your fists decisively clenched upon your chest, rosy, pink nipples evidently erect in the cooling air of the closed room. Hard cock cutely bobbing up and down in times with each of his sloppy thrusts accompanied by the squirming bulge of the outline of his cock fully sheathed in your slippery warm insides, protruding against the flesh of your tummy. ‘Don’t like it’ my fucking ass, you’re about this close to cummin’ hands free from your old bully’s cock harshly shoved up your hole.

And truly, he’d be nothing more than content to aid in that— it’s where your rightful place has always been, hasn’t it? Glasses somehow not clumsily knocked off your drooling face, smudged with the heated huffs steaming up the air. Within arms reach, in his unrelenting grasp that his self-deluded mind has dumbly convinced Whitney of so. ‘Course, why wouldn’t he have thought so of it earlier? Dotting smile, lashes prettily staring back at him with a rosy flush adorning your cheeks. Outstretched arm gleefully welcoming him in— your fucking husband in, to be exact in that matter. Wouldn’t you be so kind to carefully reach for his worn coat, seamlessly slip it off his taller frame as you dutifully greet him like a caring husband should? Timidly reward him for the tireless efforts he’s put in after a long, torturous day of work. Pouty lips lovingly tracing his jawline, your soft palms he’d wish for nothing more than to constantly cling upon his body everyday, every second actually — comforting warmth he’d fervently seek out and easily find when you’re so tenderly embraced within his arms.

It’s stupid, so fucking stupid that it’s that single thought that merely drives him to the edge. Whitney, fuckin’ him of all people to be experiencing such domestic thoughts, never been much of a family’s man or so others predictably think so of him, but— fuck, would it be so damn bad if it were you instead, happily greeting him at the edge of his doorstep every day— for the rest of his godforsaken life?? Devotedly stuck to his side? Yeah, hah. Actually, he’d like that a whole lot, really. “God, ah— fuck— fuck, cummin’— hah, fuckin’ cumming inside you, ‘kay?” High-pitched whine, all too soft to be a sound belonging to the blonde’s parted lips, stuttered curses at the slight twitch of his full length noticeably quivering deep inside your slutty hole. Hot, white spurts of his sticky seed uncontrollably squirting out of his fat cock to messily stain your insides tacky with his cum— ah, shit. Really is no better than that fucker after all, is he?

Still, he can’t go letting your weeping cock miserably go neglected, can he? Thumb insistently nudging at the flesh of your pouty lips, snidely grinning at your reluctant obedience as your shakily part your mouth open for the spit coated digit to slip in. “Good boy.” Haven’t cum yet, have you? Well, that would be too bad if he were to cruelly leave you be as you are, though good thing Whitney has changed for the better, right? Previous bully reformed and all that— thanks to society, right?

Oh, who’s he kidding— hah. Change? Progress slipped way off the second his gaze landed upon your all too nosy one in his office.

You look better with his cum lodged in your hole, wobbly lips and tear stained cheeks anyway.

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