#never to speak never to see never to breathe never to be
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beloveds-embrace · 3 days ago
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noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)
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I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.
But it’s lonely.
The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.
During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.
You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.
In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…
So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.
But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.
“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.
You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.
König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.
You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?
Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.
“…What do you need, mylady?”
After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”
König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.
“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”
And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.
“…Yes, König.”
(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)
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nightguide · 14 hours ago
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this is my tips to slander the suggestion about the prediction if i was an astrologer:
i can do what i like but it's not even there to see as if you already know his chart in real life
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like you can tell on his moon that you're there anyway (libra moons have it too damn hard these days)
2. sexless opinions about his life with sarah could also indicate he's not even remotely single at all or by any means 'how can a fan get to him' energy
3. he doesn't care or know you exist (which is why i reblogged you cuz i liked your opinion)
this is how a muslim would do it
5:19 يَـٰٓأَهْلَ ٱلْكِتَـٰبِ قَدْ جَآءَكُمْ رَسُولُنَا يُبَيِّنُ لَكُمْ عَلَىٰ فَتْرَةٍۢ مِّنَ ٱلرُّسُلِ أَن تَقُولُوا۟ مَا جَآءَنَا مِنۢ بَشِيرٍۢ وَلَا نَذِيرٍۢ ۖ فَقَدْ جَآءَكُم بَشِيرٌۭ وَنَذِيرٌۭ ۗ وَٱللَّهُ عَلَىٰ كُلِّ شَىْءٍۢ قَدِيرٌۭ ١٩
O People of the Book! Our Messenger has indeed come to you, making things clear to you after an interval between the messengers so you do not say, “There has never come to us a deliverer of good news or a warner.” Now there has come to you a deliverer of good news and a warner. And Allah is Most Capable of everything. — Dr. Mustafa Khattab, The Clear Quran
schizophrenia madonna's whore complex: (why you hate life and all it's purposes: why you suck at breathing is everybody else but you (personal problem against a God named 'Allah')
SMWC: this does not like me by thought (astrology) and i hate how i'm perceived by height (weird ways of being you cuz i have a dramatic monologue about life given to me by standards: shitty celebrities don't personally respond to you like a fckin call centre wonder why they are famous which is why they (i) lost the point in being myself) like i know why now
schizophrenia Hollywood: (i really hate to be there cuz i vibe all the time (cant help being this good to live, yk)
SH: i started living again with this (said gender) i love, and i really really like him (i got a crush on him too badly that i cannot speak (me 99.9% of the time and i dunno how to ask but i know i have a choice (rlly my faves an me don't understand cuz all my feels are real, yk?)
schizophrenia hate: the fckin episode of doctor who convinced me to fuck david tennant on the go but he ain't even real anymore (hence why my stress does not collaborate with band energy which is why i put a Urie there and not Tennant cuz his thwarts are my cohorts in demonic practices in space and time made me thinking about good luck charlie for many reasons now, like get me my own sex scene, i hate Hollywood for misunderstanding me (actually a fan of Raven (DC comics)
SH8: i wonder how Brendon Urie is sexually thinking about me atm
My bold prediction is that Brendon Urie is going to leave the public eye for a year, maybe two years max and then attempt to make a comeback with his new "wife guy" persona.
My second prediction is that this will blow up in his face within six months
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cuinaminute229 · 2 days ago
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With death comes life part 2
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pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader
a/n: this is sprinkled with angst and fluff
part 1
...
The surrounding trees are all twisted and dead, with heavy vines hanging from branches too high to reach. What you see is a barrier. A makeshift fence that keeps the witches to the road.
The air carries a subtle fog that lingers just out of reach, shrouding the forest of the road into the unknown. Even the leaves that make up the path are all dead. Only magic keeps them vibrant with false life.
You almost feel insulted. 
Nothing here can sustain life. It never will.
The road is an abomination. It shouldn’t exist.
And yet here you are.
When you look up at the sky, a feeling of loss settles in your chest. The sky is not real; the moon is a false imitation, and the stars are all wrong. 
You will never not hate this place. 
The soft whispers of a conversation tug at your attention when you notice the witches at your back are talking about you. With a subtle shift, you slow your steps and listen in. 
They speak so carelessly about your reaction to seeing Agatha, about the anger they saw. About how they could use your emotions to drive a wedge where, unbeknown to them, there is a canyon. 
In the simplest of terms, they want to manipulate you to their advantage because they do not trust Agatha. 
Because you do not trust Agatha. It’s insulting in the most human way possible.
Where on earth did she find these people? Why did she find them?
There’s something you're missing, you just know it.
The moment you hear Rio's name is the moment you turn around, you do not care what they are going to say. Their little conversation ends now. The shift in your momentum is fluid as you turn around mid step, eyes narrow in suspicion. 
You keep your face blank when they all jump in union. The very obvious change of demeanor tells you they did not know you were listening in on them.
You let the silence linger as your eyes scan over the small group. They cling to each other for comfort, but it only takes a moment for you to recognize that their bonds as a coven are new. They are still easy to bend, easy to break.
“You know,” Your voice is gentle, giving nothing of what you feel away for them to see. “To betray one's cover on the road,” 
You spread your hand out to emphasize exactly where you all are. “To break the rules only punishes all.”
“She is the one that tried to cheat!” The pink dressed witch points out like you need to be taught, like she needs to tell you who Agatha Harkness is.
As if you don't know exactly who she is. It's almost laughable how much this witch thinks she knows more than you.
“And now one of you is dead. How tragic.” This is not the first and will not be the last time a witch loses their life on the road. Do they not understand that?
“But that death is not her fault.” This time your voice is cold, stern. It feels like you're scolding children. “You failed as a coven. So do not blame your misgivings as a group on her.”
When only silence becomes their response, you decide to turn back around and continue down the path. The next trial awaits, and you want to get this over with as soon as possible. 
But a voice makes you pause. 
“Why do you hate her?” The unexpected question knocks the air out of your lungs and the world seems to stop. As if everything dead and alive waits for your answer. 
Memories rush forward with such force you wouldn't be surprised if you can never breathe again.
The sight of a never ending forest, a small cottage tucked away from hunters and strangers alike. The laughter of a young boy with Agatha's hair and Rio's smile, a bright yellow flower in his hands.
The years before tragedy felt like a lifetime. 
You were happy. You were loved. 
You want to cry. 
With a small hitch in your breath, you close your eyes and push down the tidal wave of emotions. If you become overwhelmed, the road’s magic will latch onto you like a leech. You can't risk it.
“My reasons are my own. Focus on surviving the road.” Your words are final, empty of the emotions that are battling beneath your heart. You know you can never pick up the pieces of yourself that are broken. 
But for now, you can ignore them.
You will not let them see you like this. Never again will Agatha see this side of you.
When you finally catch up with Rio, you take notice of the house in the distance, the windows lit in a deep orange sunset light. The fog of your surroundings only adds to the ominous look of it.
That must be the next trial.
What catches your attention next isn't Agatha arguing with the boy. It's not the group of three walking over to settle whatever disagreement there is. No, it's the fact that Rio is leaning against a tree, feigning boredom. Her knife in hand, twisting it in her grip as if she's studying the blade.
The leaf in her hair is bright in color, almost like fire, and it stands out against the rich brown of her hair. As if she can sense eyes on her, Rio glances up. Her eyes find you in an instant and you give her a small smile.
She waits as you walk over to her and it's only once you stop in front of her, your back to the others, does she return your smile. She tucks her knife away and holds out her hand, a small flower blooming in her palm. “For you.” 
Your smile turns bittersweet as you reach for the flower, the baby blue petals remind you of a clear afternoon sky. As your fingers touch the stem, it flourishes. Reacting to the caress of your magic that trickles from your fingers. You hold the flower for a moment before tucking it beneath your coat. 
As you look back to Rio she pushes forwards, off the dead tree that she knows you won't touch. When she steps into your space, it feels like you’ve broken the water's surface and can finally breathe again.
“You look filthy.” You tease her before she can notice if anything’s wrong. The dirt that covers her skin and her clothes gives her a rough look, and yet her makeup is as pristine as ever. Her hair looks like she’s just rolled out of bed. There are twigs and leaves and who knows what else hidden in the mess of her hair. 
“Says the one who also had to crawl out of a grave.” Rio responds, leaning just a bit closer when you reach out to brush your fingers through her hair. Her hand settles on your waist with ease, her thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion.
“Which I'm assuming is your fault.” You voice your suspicion as you tug on the largest of the leaves you can see in her hair. 
To summon a green witch, let alone any witch to the road, is almost impossible. You don't even know why they tried it in the first place. 
Rio says nothing for a moment. She just lets you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling at the twigs and leaves you find. She licks her lips when you brush your thumb behind her ear, letting out a soft sigh as she closes her eyes.
An annoyed huff and angry footsteps causes you to pull back from her, suddenly self conscious. But Rio's hand catches your wrist before you can step out of her personal space. When she blinks open her eyes to look at you, her brow furrowed slightly. You can't help but give her a reassuring smile. 
Agatha is storming off again. Because of course she is. She will not wait for the two of you.
“Tell me later?” You know this conversation isn't close to over, but right now, time is essential. Rio gives you a small nod and only then do you step away from her.
Finding Agatha is easy. She's at the next trial, waiting for the two of you. The door is decorated with stained glass, the phases of the moon surround the centerpiece, which is the waxing moon. It's almost beautiful if you didn't know that danger lies just behind it.
You feel Rio just behind you, watching the group intently. The graze of her fingers on your back is a welcoming sensation when you realize who’s trial this is.
The protection witch.
With a quick scan, you find her easily, the witch with the red streaks in her hair. She looks the most nervous, hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders hunched.
The teenager is the one to usher her inside, voice reassuring. He calls her Alice and holds his hand out for her and once she takes it; he walks through the door beside her. The other two follow close behind, nerves elevated for what is to come.
When there is only you, Agatha, and Rio left at the door, the tension seems to skyrocket. 
You clench your jaw when she looks at you as if she expects you to go first, but you don't move. The door stays open and no one moves.
When Agatha’s patient wanes, she jerks her head to the door, her voice callous, and yet she can’t look at you when she speaks. “After you.”
It’s only when Rio pushes her knuckles against your lower back do you finally give in. The very moment you walk through the door, you’re blinded by a light as bright as a newborn star. It’s honestly a weak imitation, but that doesn’t mean it can disorient you any less.
As the world around you slowly comes into focus, you notice two things right away. 
One, the air is pungent with magic. It’s so bad you swear you can taste it. Two, when you turn to look at the others, you notice everyone is dressed in seventies fashion attire. 
Glancing down, you see that you too, have also changed outfits. You brush your fingers over the gold embroidered that stands out against the white design of your clothes. Small beads and complex stitches run in calm waves up your sleeves. As you turn your arm to follow the designs, you notice your nails are also painted white. 
“Don’t drink anything. Don’t eat anything. Don’t touch anything.” Alice tells everyone as she glances around the room with a distrust that runs deep. 
“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Rio says as she looks at Alice, brows raised in intrigue. When she catches your gaze, she’s not subtle as she looks you over. She’s adorned in black and gold. The low cut of her blouse catches your attention and you may stare a little too long. Her smile is predatory when she notices you looking. 
“The road isn’t subtle.” Alice mutters, her disdain clear.
You glance around at her words, curious about the history that this trial will bring up.
The room looks like a music lounge studio. Instruments and microphones are set out like they are just waiting to be played. The floor is covered with different rugs; the lights have a certain aesthetic and even the walls are mismatched stones with different things decorating them. 
Your eyes land on the grand piano when everyone gathers around a wall mirror that one of the witches has found, getting a clearer look at the clothes that now fit the aesthetic of this trial. You leave them to their curiosity and walk to the center of the room, a metronome catching your attention from where it sits atop the piano. 
You don’t notice her at first, brow furrowed as you brush your fingers over the edge of the piano lid. You hum a soft lullaby as your fingers tap to the rhythm in your head.
When you see her fingers graze over the piano, you freeze. When she finishes your melody, her beige nails tapping lightly against the polished black case of the piano, you step away.
You look at Agatha like she’s a ghost. 
She’s not—she wasn't—you never told her. Rio doesn’t even know.
It was only for Nicky. It was his song.  
“What are you doing?” You back up when she finally looks up at you. She can’t hide it when her eyes glance over your attire. You know her too well. The way her eyes linger just a little too long, the way she clears her throat before jerking her head back to the piano. She takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders like she’s buying time.
She looks like she wants to say something but stops short. When she reaches for her brooch, finger tapping lightly as if she needs a physical reminder it’s still there, you understand. 
He told her. Of course he did.
Whatever Agatha is trying to accomplish by reminding you of a life you can never get back, you need her to stop.
You can't do this. The emotional whiplash is getting exhausting.
“Why are you here?” She tilts her head to look at you, her expression clouded with suspicion.
“Why are you?” You deflect her easily, asking your own question. To walk the road once and survive is akin to a miracle. Why would she come back here?
“I asked first.” She pushes into your space, eyes narrowed, her tone condescending. When you shift to move away from her, she grabs hold of your wrist. 
You don’t expect what comes next. You have no time to prepare as your magic comes alive with the contact. It’s been so long since she’s touched you that a lifetime couldn’t prepare you for her pain.
The absolute onslaught of unchecked emotions feels like agony. Her touch burns. It’s scolding hot with the centuries of anguish and hatred that Agatha has clung to. It seeps under your skin like a parasite.
You want to scream.
You need her to let go. Right now.
“I am not here for you. I want absolutely nothing to do with you.” Your words are brutal, every ounce of hatred you have ever felt is directed at her. You know you will regret this later but right now you are desperate.
Agatha steps back as if you physically slapped her. As if you ran a knife right through her heart. But she lets go, that's what you needed.
When you move away from her, cradling your wrist close to your chest, she scoffs. 
“And they call me cruel.” Her voice wavers, head turned away so you can not see her vulnerability. Your heart already hurts but you say nothing. 
The churning in your stomach makes you feel sick. You weren't expecting her to touch you. You weren't expecting your magic to respond to her.
Not like this. Not after all this time.
As you look down at your trembling hand, fingers clenching into a fist, you know one thing for certain. You didn’t feel a flicker of magic from her when she touched you. 
Agatha has lost her magic.
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sirenedeslily · 2 days ago
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it’s late—so late, almost 3 a.m., and you’re both wrapped up in the stillness of a room where candlelight flickers shadows onto the walls. the low, warm glow casts an amber haze over everything, painting you both in soft, melted hues. outside, the world sleeps, leaving only the soft, steady hum of the record player filling the room, the quiet strum of guitar notes tracing through the silence like a whisper. the song is slow, thick with longing, and you feel it sinking into your bones, the way music sometimes does when the night is soft, and time stretches out like it’ll last forever.
matt’s sitting close, so close that you can see the delicate lines of ink woven across his arms, intricate designs that tell a thousand quiet stories. his tattoos blend into the soft shadows of his skin, his arm resting around your shoulders, fingers tracing light patterns down your back, almost absentmindedly, as though he can’t help but touch you. his hair’s messy, soft like he’s been running his hands through it all night. those blue eyes catch yours, and he smiles, just a little crookedly, like he’s been waiting for this moment all his life.
“you know,” he murmurs, voice low and gentle, a kind of reverence in it that you’ve only ever heard him use with you, “i could stay like this forever. just—us, right here.”
you can feel his breath, warm against your cheek, and his lips brush yours in a way that’s barely there, so light that it feels like he’s memorizing every tiny moment. he cups your face, his thumb tracing slow circles along your cheek as if you’re something precious, something he’d never want to let go of.
“you’re so perfect, you know that? like, how is it possible that i get to have you like this?”
his words are soft, sincere, threaded with that slight rasp in his voice that you adore. he keeps kissing you, slow and unhurried, like he’s got all the time in the world. each kiss feels like a promise—like he’s trying to tell you all the things he feels but can’t put into words. and you know him well enough to understand it; every kiss speaks volumes, a silent confession of all the love he holds in that heart of his.
between kisses, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded, the faintest smile on his lips. his fingers brush through your hair, and he chuckles, low and warm.
“god, i love this,” he whispers, voice barely audible, almost like he’s speaking to himself. “i love you.” his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips finding yours again. it’s gentle, yet there’s something deep and unyielding behind it, a kind of desperation like he’s scared this might all be a dream.
the song shifts, the guitar fading into a soft, distant refrain, and for a second, you’re both quiet, breathing in sync as you hold each other. the world could be crumbling around you, but here, with matt, it feels like nothing else matters. the room’s filled with the scent of autumn—clove, cinnamon, a faint hint of something woody. he pulls you closer, his arm tight around your waist, his lips pressed against your temple.
“can i just…keep kissing you?” he whispers, almost like he’s asking permission, and you feel the smile pull at your lips.
“matt,” you say, and he leans back just enough to look at you, blue eyes catching the candlelight. “you don’t have to ask, honey.”
a smile breaks across his face, a bit bashful, and he shakes his head. “just—you don’t know what you do to me.” his fingers brush over your jaw, tracing every line, and he presses another lingering kiss to your lips, softer this time, more tender. you lose yourself in him, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and the way his touch seems to melt away everything else in the world.
as the song fades, the room slips into silence, and he just keeps holding you, keeps kissing you like you’re the only thing that matters. it’s simple, beautiful, and as you both sink into that quiet, you realize you don’t need anything else. just him, just this moment, and the way he makes you feel like forever might just be real.
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𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ lil comfort blurb, i love slow dance by clairo :p
❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696
❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet
© sirenedeslily
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hoshifighting · 12 hours ago
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Hey Lyla... Umm I have a fic request.
I have recently read your response fic to an anon request of Jeonghan asking the reader to marry him during a rough intercourse...
I'm a Jeonghan and Woozi bias...after reading it, I couldn't help but imagine how the situation would play out of Jihoon did this..
Can you please do a fic where Jihoon asks the reader to marry him during a rough sex round?
Also thank you for your amazing writings🩵
woozi asking you to marry him during rough sex
WARNINGS: smut, dirty talk, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of carrying his babies, breeding kink
his hand is tangled so deep in your hair, pulling you back with this raw intensity, guiding you to sink into him, and every thrust makes you see stars. he’s got you so close, you’re practically fused to him, his arm tight around your throat, holding you just right, and you can feel every hot, rough breath he takes against your shoulder, hear every moan he makes.
he feels it—feels the way you go soft, the way you just trust him to hold you. that soft, open surrender of yours always drives him crazy, with a big want to protect you as his woman.
you are trusting every single rough, desperate pull of his hands. you let your head fall back on his shoulder, feeling his grip tighten, his chest heaving against your back, his jaw clenched in concentration. he’s possessed by the way you’re letting him have you, all open, soft, and trusting in his arms.
and then, out of nowhere, against your ear, a tone you’ve never heard before. “marry me… fuck, marry me.”
it shocks you to your core, and you freeze, barely even sure you heard him right. you try to look back at him, but his grip tightens, keeping you there, his body so tense, almost like he can’t believe he let those words slip.
you open your mouth to speak, but he just thrusts into you harder, like he’s chasing something, his brows furrowed. “don’t look at me like that,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, almost shy, like he’s thrown off by his own words. “just… just say... yes. just say you’re mine.”
you can feel his heart racing against your back, he holds you there, waiting, his eyes dark and desperate. you nod, not even breathing properly, but you whine; “yes.”
and that’s all it takes—he practically whimpers, burying himself deep inside you, pulling you even closer.
he’s got both hands on you, squeezing your breasts hard, his thumbs rolling over your nipples, making you whimper and shudder in his arms. every inch of you is wired, your body trembling and convulsing around him as he grits his teeth. “you’re gonna be my wife,” he mutters, his fingers digging in as he presses his hips up into you, so deep it’s like he’s trying to brand himself there. “gonna put a ring on your finger and fill you up every single day.” his lips find your neck, teeth grazing, like he’s staking a claim, and he groans, feeling you clench and pulse around him, your entire body wrapped in his.
your body is giving out, but he holds you tighter, hands roaming over every inch, savoring every little sound you make. “you’re not going anywhere, i’ll make sure of it. you’re gonna give me everything, yeah? whole house full of us. you’ll look so perfect, carrying my kids, just—” he thrusts deeper, his hands squeezing, pushing you right to the edge. “fuck, you’ll be mine, all mine,” he breathes, his voice shakingt. “just you and me, for the rest of our lives.” his words are all you can hear, that promise echoing, settling in you just as deep as he is.
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Another thought on this, you know what would also be funny? If Arthur, Merlin, and the knights, while on a quest, came across a colony of trolls living in a cave.
Of course, they all prepare to be attacked by the angry trolls, but then one troll barks out in a gravelly voice, "Wait, isn't that human with the gold sword Grolda's stepson?"
The trolls pause and look at Arthur, and they start murmuring amongst themselves, while Arthur, Merlin, and the knights all glance at each other, very confused, but they begin to creep back towards the exit while the trolls are distracted by whatever they're talking about.
Before they can make it to the exit and escape though, the trolls turn back to them with grotesque smiles on their faces. Suddenly, one of the trolls started speaking to Arthur, who had to resist the urge to violently flinch backwards at the smell of its breath.
"Well, we had heard that that old wench had gone and disguised herself as some ugly princess to trick the king of Camelot into marrying her, but none of us thought she'd ever get away with it! It turns out you humans are a bit thicker in the head than you think! Never thought we'd be seeing you around these parts though!"
Arthur and Merlin both take sharp inhales at that, realizing now that these trolls must have known the one that pretended to be Catrina and infiltrated Camelot.
The group of trolls then starts to crowd around the group of humans, putting them on the defensive. The trolls push them back, further into the cave and towards a long slab of rock that looked like it was being used as a long feasting table, if the rotten fruit and meat piled up on it was any indication.
Arthur's anxiety increased with each step back he was forced to take. Were these trolls aiming to avenge their friend? Oh god, were the trolls looking to make a meal out of them?!
Arthur swung his sword at the troll in front of him with all his might, fueled by fear and desperation. He couldn't meet his end at the hands of these disgusting creatures!
To Arthur's horror though, the beast simply caught his arm in an inhumanly strong grip and laughed, his breath somehow smelling even worse than before.
"You've got some fight in ya! I'm sure you'll fit right in, but that still no way to greet family!"
Arthur lowered his arm, confusion somehow overpowering his fear. "Family?" His tone was filled with disgust, confusion, and sheer disbelief.
The troll grinned at him again, this time slinging a grimy arm over Arthur's shoulders.
"Of course! I should introduce myself. The name's Bronk, and I'm your step-uncle!"
(Merlin almost couldn't stop himself from laughing hysterically, but he managed to barely stifle his laughs.)
And that's how Arthur found himself, dumbfounded, sitting with Merlin and the knights at a feasting table filled with rotten food, listening to his new "extended family" introduce themselves and discuss all the best ways to introduce him to the troll lifestyle.
The trolls all tolerated the knights, but funnily enough, they seemed to be enjoying Merlin's company, laughing at the stories that the manservant was telling them. At Arthur's questioning look, Merlin shrugs and says "It's not that different from sitting with the knights during feasts. They have all the same manners anyways, and at least the trolls don't demand me to fetch them more mead."
And that's how Arthur got forcefully adopted by his troll stepfamily! :D
(also @sugar-coated-prat-dragon, since I promised you something fluffy! <3)
You know what's one thing I'm disappointed we never got in Merlin? After the troll episodes, the entire event was never brought up again!
I mean, I understand if the people of Camelot would rather forget about the whole thing, but Arthur had a troll for a stepmother for like a week and Merlin never teased him about it later on?!
I would really like to write a fic or au some day set in the Golden Age where it's discovered that dragonlords got their powers from being descended from ancient powerful dragons that shapeshifted in humans and had half-human children.
And Arthur's reaction is to turn to Merlin and go "So what you're telling me is that one of your ancestors was deranged enough to sleep with a dragon? That certainly confirms my theory that your insanity is passed down through your blood."
And of course Merlin immediately fires back, "And remind me Sire, which of our family trees includes a troll?"
Arthur sputters for a moment before shouting that that doesn't count, she enchanted his father and the whole thing was a trick, before Geoffrey pipes up and says, "Actually sire, as it was an official wedding, Queen Catrina the Troll was officially added to the Pendragon family tree. And as the marriage was never formally annulled before her death, she cannot be removed from the record."
Arthur's left horrified by this, while Merlin's laughing his ass off.
I just think a scene like that would be neat!
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userautumn · 2 days ago
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He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.
Jee misses you.
He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.
What did she say?
"Uncle Tommy come play?"
Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.
I'm sorry.
Sorry to her or sorry to me?
It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.
Sorry to both of you.
Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.
If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.
Never mind.
This was dumb.
I shouldn't have bothered.
Sorry to have bothered you.
Bye.
Goodbye, Evan.
Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.
Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.
Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.
I'm not going to lie to her.
Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.
Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.
He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.
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muwapsturniolo · 23 hours ago
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𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐟💨 Matt sturniolo
“ did you just?”
✗ Awkward asf but realistic, NSFW, sex, mentions of queefing, secondhand embarrassment, that’s it me thinks.
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You wanted the world to swallow you whole, you wanted to disappear.
You knew it was a semi-normal thing to happen, yet you were still embarrassed. It happened to most girls when having sex, although you never thought it would happen to you - It’s never happened to you until now.
Your legs were spread wide open, a pair of rough hands pushing the back of your knees on either side of your head - You were in heaven. “O-oh fuck Matt,'' he groaned in retaliation, his hips driving into you harder, the squelching of your essence filling the room.
Every once in a while, you noticed Matt would make a face, his hips stuttering. You didn’t know why, you figured he was just struggling not to cum quickly and paint your insides that shade of white that you both love.
You didn't think much of it, he always made faces when you two were having sex.
He was very expressive.
You were so lost in the pleasure Matt was providing you, you missed a specific sound that came from your body. When Matt suddenly stopped all movement, you were confused.
Why did he stop?
Did he cum already?
Why is he staring at you with wide eyes?
Did you accidentally call him daddy again?
All you two could do was stare at each other for a solid minute or so, before you finally spoke up.
“W-why did you stop?”
“I uh…d-did you just…”
Your brows furrow in confusion, did you what? What is he talking about?
“Did I what Matt?”
He stares at you silently, the only sound in the room being the both of you breathing harshly from the sexual escapades that had come to a halt.
“N-nothing, never mind.” He shakes his head as he tries to dismiss whatever he was talking about. You didn’t have the chance to interrogate him further, his hips resuming their actions.
However, he only got about five more pumps in before you finally heard it.
You were mortified, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you stare at him with wide eyes. He met your gaze, his eyes equally as big as his actions halted once more.
“Did you just far-No!” You quickly cut him off, your cheeks hot and your heart beating fast.
“It’s ok if you did…I mean, it doesn’t smell - Plus, I know you had dairy, and you’re lactose intolerant, so it makes sense.”
You could not believe the words coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t believe this is happening to you out of all people.
“Matt, I didn’t -'' you wave your hands around, hoping he would get the gist of what you were saying.
You didn’t know why you hated the word fart, maybe it was because your parents raised you to say ‘passed gas’, and the word fart was too cringy for you.
“You didn’t? Then what the hell was that?”
“I-I think I queefed I-I don’t know!" Matt could tell you were flustered, your tone becoming defensive. “Ok, ok! Just calm down!” He lowers your legs and rubs at your thighs for comfort, attempting to calm you down as he remains inside you.
After a few minutes of silence, he speaks up. “D-did you want me to keep going or…?” He trails off, unsure of what you want.
To be honest, the mood for both of you was somewhat ruined. He wouldn't be shocked if you told him to stop. Hell, he was sure you probably would hold off on having sex for a while after this as well.
Much to his surprise, you nodded.
“Y-yeah, yeah you can keep going.” You try to push the awkward tension away, hoping, praying, begging that you wouldn’t queef again.
He nods and begins to thrust softly once more. You were tense, anxious your body would do it again, but it didn’t. You allow yourself to relax, to feel the pleasure once more.
Matt sees this and picks up the pace, drawing out soft moans and mewls from you. Despite your orgasm dwindling from the first two times he had stopped his ministrations, it was quickly rebuilding itself.
Matt could tell, and he was determined to push you over the edge.
He grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, planting his hands on both sides of your head as he drives his cock deeper into your aching cunt. The sexual energy in the room was potent, the previous moment long forgotten as you both explored each other's bodies.
"Oh fuck m'close. Come on ba-"
It happened....Again.
“Ok ok stop!” You basically yell out. He stumbles back as you push him, his cock slipping out of you with a small pop, followed by even more air being released.
It sounded like a deflating balloon, almost like Donald Duck was in the room himself.
You were on the verge of tears, this was too embarrassing. It didn't help that Matt was smirking, biting his lip as he held back laughter.
"D-don't you dare say anything!" Matt raises his hands in surrender, backing up even more and moving to the other side of the room. You sigh and sit up slowly, hoping you wouldn't release anymore more air from your vaginal canal.
It didn't work.
You could feel the air passing through your folds, creating that wet farting noise - thanks to the bodily fluids you secreted- and making your folds ripple softly.
A soft snicker is heard, making your head dart to Matt. "Shut up! Don't laugh, it's not funny!" You shout as you throw a pillow at him. He cackles loudly, dodging the pillow at the same time.
"I'm sorry but it's funny! She's speaking to me!"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Mmcht, you're such a fucking boy." You mumble. You want to stand up and rush to the bathroom, but you didn't know if you could handle Matt's laughter at your excessive queefing.
"Get out."
"What? Baby come on, I'm sorry for laughing!"
"No, you're not. Now shut up and get out so I can go to the bathroom!" He holds back another round of laughter and slips on his boxers and sweatpants, quickly leaving the room and leaving you alone.
You waddle awkwardly to the bathroom, cringing every time another gush of air escapes you. As you stand in the bathroom, you quickly search up "How to get rid of queefs."
All you could find were multiple sources telling you there wasn't a way.
"Absolutely not, fuck this."
You try another search, " How to get rid of air down there."
Thankfully, you found an answer.
"Squatting down, especially while peeing, can help trapped air escape."
"This is great, but how the hell do you squat over a toilet without getting pee everywhere?" You mumble to yourself. You won't even deny it, your eyes dart over to the tub but you quickly dismiss that thought.
No way were you going to pop a squat and pee in your boyfriend's tub. You wouldn't hear the end of it.
You end up sitting backward on the toilet, your chest facing the lid as you do your best to squat.
Sure enough, you could feel the excess air release, echoing in the bathroom.
You finish up quickly, making sure to wipe and wash your hands before exiting the bathroom. As you walk out of the bathroom, you see Matt back in the room, sitting on his bed.
"Did you get that.... situated?" You roll your eyes and throw on your pajamas, laying back down on the bed. "You shut your damn mouth...And yes." He snickers softly and begins to situate himself between your legs, just as he always does.
The both of you sit in silence before he looks down at your clothed mound.
"So since you can speak, how do you fee-OW!" He winces as your hand comes down on the back of his head. He watches as you climb off the bed.
"Wait, where are you going?!"
"To Nick's room! At least he won't try to talk to my vagina as if it could talk back!"
He watches as you walk out the room, slamming the door in the process. He lays back down and chuckles to himself,
"I'm definitely changing her name in my phone to queef queen...maybe donald duck."
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purrrrr im making this an awkward series! send in stuff that you would want to see!!!
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cvnntagious · 8 hours ago
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☆ introducing... pornstar!chris
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chris was never shy about his profession... not at all, really. truthfully, he only stayed quiet about it as to not make other people uncomfortable. but of course, as soon as he was in front of the right crowd, and the questions started coming, it was like they'd never stop. "nah— no, i don't do all that fake shit," he answered, waving off his friend as he chuckled.
everyone looked to him as they sat around on the couches in your living room, some with wonder on their faces, others with confusion. you were skeptical, to say the least. "y'know what i mean, with those plots and all," chris continued on, "no one even likes that anymore. they wanna see real, unscripted fucking. all the dirty talking and moans, they're just not enjoyable if it's all for show."
"yeah, but i'm sure it's all played out anyways," you were quick to speak up, not thinking too much of the comment you'd made. though the words were simple in your mind, they immediately caused everyone's attention to turn to you, as if you'd told this something no one could've ever possibly thought up.
chris shook his head, grin unwavering. "nah, i scrap anything that seems even remotely forced."
"but porn's always forced, everyone knows that," you quipped, completely disregarding chris' 'professional' opinion.
"y'think so?"
the smirk that began to tug at his slips only seemed to further build the tension that had already started hanging in the air. "yeah," you stated bluntly, the way you crossed your arms gave you a snobbish look, but you didn't care. "i mean, seriously, all those loud moans and screaming and shit... nobody's really that loud, no matter how good it is. and there's just no way chicks are, like, squirting and shaking all the time— i wouldn't even be surprised if squirting wasn't even real."
by this time, chris had shifted comfortably in his seat on your couch, crossing his arms like you had and watching you with an almost unreadable intense stare. he wasn't offended by what you were saying, no. rather, he was curious. he could be way off, but something told him you didn't really know much of what you were talking about.
━━★
"mm-mm, baby, don't go all quiet on me now," chris hissed as his hips snapped to meet yours, his hand reaching to lift your chin and force you to look at him.
"c- chris!" you practically shrieked, hands reaching to claw at his biceps as your back bowed slightly off of your couch, eyes closed and mouth making a pouty little 'o' shape that had chris' ego blowing up his head.
the way his large length filled you up more than you ever had before, threatening to hit your cervix with each thrust had tears brimming at your waterline. your world was being rocked, in every sense of the word, and it was all his fault. he'd decided it was time to change your outlook on everything on one random night over a silly comment you'd made hours prior. "how loud could chicks 'never be'? was it -" he cut off his sentence to pull all the way back and snap his hips as hard as he possibly could, eliciting a loud mewl from you that echoed through your house, "that loud?"
you immediately clung to him, legs wrapping around his torso and arms throwing themselves around his neck. he breathed harshly and groaned in your ear, head dipping to practically nuzzle itself in between your neck and your shoulder for a moment.
chris couldn't help chuckle when he heard you pleading to him, mumbling on about how he was too big, and that you couldn't finish like this. but still, when he slowed down for you, you found yourself whining at the loss of friction, writhing beneath him as he lifted his head to make eye contact with the camera set up on your coffee table. "wait! wait, m'not—wait, no, ke- keep doing that," you rambled on, practically unable to control the babble falling from your lips.
so when you finally decided you were fully satisfied with what he was doing (as if you hadn't already been before), chris' eyebrow raised, realizing he'd really found it now; that gummy sweet spot that made your eyes roll back.
and he shot the lens focused on him a cocky gin before diving all the way back in, allowing his head to drop on your shoulder once more
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w/c : 754 a/n : divider by issysh3ll
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briseroyawritingsblog · 1 day ago
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𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒚𝒂
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• 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
[ theme: friends to lovers | +18 minors do not interact. ]
divider by @anitalenia 🎀
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• Oldman Logan who seemingly and most likely melts whenever you smile at him. You’re so young and fresh like a ray of warm sunshine in his life.
• Oldman Logan who loves reading whatever you write for him, he sits in his limo taking a break, drinking some whiskey with his pair of specs reading your messages but he never really replies to you. You already know that he is busy so you don’t mind at least he reads them.
• Oldman Logan who knows your age gap is insane and he thinks he’s sick deep down to even spend time with you, but you like sitting next to him and draw tiny pictures in his notepad. You sitting crossed leg on his passenger seat, doodling and colouring to unwind after long days at work. You force him to drive you the nearest fast food place and you storm out his limo to go and buy food and he chuckles watching you. He leans against the hood of his limo lighting a cigar. Do you force him eating ice cream fudge cake? Yes. And it’s all over his beard as you feed him and you giggle like a little girl. He grunts and that grumpy face of his makes you laugh- he’s melting deep within.
• Oldman Logan who buys you new pencils and notepads and keeps them in his car, even though you speak way too much and you’re a very happy person he could listen to you all day. Just the little ups and downs at your work, he sits there driving and you just keep talking soothing his very soul.
• Oldman Logan who allows himself a little break and drive you home from work almost everyday. You never leave without saying a goodbye kissing his cheek and drawing hearts on his fogged windows. It’s so adorable that he almost never wipes them away until rain does.
• Oldman Logan who suddenly doesn’t show up for few days and you are heartbroken over it. Your phone never buzzes with his simple ‘hi’ ‘yes I’m on my way’ you are concerned, but god you miss him so much that you have tremors of pain in your chest and you cry.
• Oldman Logan who wakes in the middle of the night with horrible nightmares but when he thinks of you and your beautiful smile his heartbeat soothes and he’s lying there awake thinking of you.
• Oldman Logan who has to go to Charles and take care of him for a little bit but misses you every moment. He gives him a full month of meds supply, sleeps through one night and drives back to the city where he works.
• Oldman Logan who parks his limo nearby your house, watches you get in your home. And he just looks out for you, slowly drinking away his feelings for you because he shouldn’t even have any he is a grumpy old man. You would never settle for someone like him at all and he is not allowed to care about you so much you would only get hurt.
• Oldman Logan who smokes his cigar, and pretends like he doesn’t stay in his limo all night long just looking at your house. You approach the window and see him there, your heart shakes in happiness and you start crying putting on your slippers and run over to him. He steps out and you’re jumping in his arms nearly sending him on the gravel pavement and he hugs you tightly.
• Oldman Logan who allows him to melt into the tight hug and he holds you and you’re like a spider monkey clinging to the man who can visibly be your grandfather but you don’t care you love him so much it hurts. Soon you’re expressing your happiness and gratitude by kissing him all over his scarred face and he closed his eyes loving every moment of it. And your mouths brush against each other and you moan kissing him. Logan responds kissing you feverishly taking your breath away.
• Oldman Logan who lets you straddle his lap on the backseats of his limo, you whisper how much you miss him and that you want to be the closest to him. He tells you that he’s an Oldman and that he’s nothing good for you but you refuse his words telling him you love every part of him and that he’s just the right one for you. He’s hesitant letting you in but god— you melt all over insecurities away. Trembling hands skim all over your front touching your breasts, the swell of them. His eyes are soft and pleading and needing all of you.
• Oldman Logan who gasps softly when he sees your core engulfing his length all the way, your whimpers and moans ring in his ears. His big hands guide you back and forth on it and you mewl as you find yourself cumming moments later. The size of him just makes you cum so hard because it touched and nestles against your sweet spots and you’re a whiny mess. He’s not even done with you, his praises and soft groans egg you on to ride him and the quicker you both do so the better it feels and the euphoria is touching your soul.
• Oldman Logan who calls you his princess, his little girl when he lets you cuddle up to him while he smokes his cigars. His hands soothe your back holding you close.
• Oldman Logan who makes you feel you’re the only one in the world, who protects you and makes you feel so safe you reach heaven.
• Oldman Logan who is ♾️/ 10 a boyfriend, daddy material. ;))
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slayfics · 3 days ago
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Katsuki comforts you after a breakup.
700 words
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Aizawa stood at the front of the class ready to begin the first lecture of the day, when he noticed your absence.
“Does anyone know where she is?” He asked the class. The class looked at the vacant seat with some hums and shrugs.
Mina gently spoke up, “I checked on her before I left, she said she was sick and didn’t know if she’d make it today.”
“Hmm, alright then. We’ll get started,” Aizawa decided.
Katsuki shifted in his seat to gaze at your empty seat, not buying the sick excuse.
He saw you come into the dorm last night and stomp up to your room. It was clear to him that you were upset about something. Could the class really be that oblivious, he seethed. Why hadn’t Mina tried harder to pry it out of you?
As the rest of the day went on, Katsuki found his thoughts continuing to wander to you. Were you ok? What had happened? He regretted not checking on you last night, but he could easily solve that after class.
At the conclusion of classes, Katsuki wasted no time rushing to your dorm door. Two hardy knocks rang through your room.
You lay in bed, pulling the sheets up to hide more of yourself as if escaping from the outside world.
“Told you I’m sick Ashido,” you yelled in response to the knocks.
“Bull shit,” Katsuki yelled back.
Breath hitching, eyes widening, you pulled the sheets away from your face, stunned by your classmate being outside your door.
“Open up brat,” he demanded.
Knowing better than to argue with Katsuki you slinked over to the door, opening it slowly.
Your appearance alarmed Katsuki, your eyes were puffy, and your face red. It was obvious you had been crying all day. His chest tightened and fist clenched as he walked into your room. You quickly shut the door, not wanting anyone else to see you.
“What the fuck happened?” He asked.
You opened your mouth to answer but bringing it out to words made your eyes water all over again.
Tearful you gulped out the words, “He broke up with me.”
Katsuki bit his bottom lip in anger. He never liked your boyfriend. Hated him even. It dumbfounded Katsuki that you saw him as worthy enough to date you. And now, you were telling him that absolute loser broke up with you.
Katsuki seethed with anger as you hiccupped out the story of the breakup. Your tears turned to full sobs as you relived the story over again.
He swallowed his urge to surprise your ex and destroy him, choosing to wrap his arms around you instead.
Without a second thought, you burrowed into his chest letting the sobs come freely. He didn’t speak, just let you get it out. Soothingly rubbing your back in between hard sobs.
He only caught half of the story, your tears drowning out some of the words. But he didn’t need to know. Any more anger and he might just find himself a murderer by the end of the night. Finally, some clear words broke out of your sobs.
“I really really liked him Katsuki,” you cried.
“No,” Katsuki said definitively, his tone sharp.
“What?” You mumbled out.
“Don’t-,” he broke off squeezing you tighter. “Don’t say that,” he huffed, a lump forming in his throat threatening to turn to tears. “Don’t say you actually liked him. You don’t mean that.”
Squeezing you so tight you could feel his body begin to shake, unsure if it was from anger or something else.
“Katsuki, I don’t understand,” you replied, your tears halting from the confusion.
“Say it. Say you never liked him. It’s been me this whole time,” he demanded.
Katsuki's words and confession took the air out of your lungs. Arms still wrapped around you holding you to his chest, there was no question of how serious his words were.
“Katsuki of course I’ve always liked you but-,” you began to say before he cut you off.
“Never mind that I’m taking care of you now. Got it?” He spoke.
You nodded in agreement, still stunned and in a daze.
“Good,” he hummed pulling you back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Forget his name.”
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sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay
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redflowersociety · 2 days ago
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Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC
These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort
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Curly (Pre-Crash)
He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.
He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.
After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.
Curly (Post-Crash)
He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.
He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.
Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.
Daisuke
At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.
“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.
Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.
Anya
It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.
She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!
There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.
Swansea
Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.
f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.
That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.
Jimmy
Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.
The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.
After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.
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samandcolbyownme · 13 hours ago
Note
The perchance of rafe smut?😝😛🫡
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Summary: Reader risks her friendship just to be with the one she came to love most
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, sneaking around, flirting, kissing, unprotected car sex, creampie, hair pulling, choking, biting, general filth with fluff
Word Count: 4.5k | unedited
𓂃 ོ𓂃
“Come on.” Kie kicks the end of your bed, “We gotta go.” She yawns, forcing a yawn upon you, “What time is it?”
She looks down at her phone, “It’s seven.”
“Kie.” You shoot up in bed, staring at her, “We were to be there at seven!”
“Oh shit.” Her hands slap her thighs and you quickly get up, running around your room to find your clothes, “Fuck, we have to wash the Cameron’s Yacht today.”
You grab your swimsuit top, turning around to rip your baggy shirt off your body, “I hope Ward isn’t there bitching.”
“Knowing him. He probably is.” Kie sighs, “I thought something felt off.”
After putting your shirt back on, you slide your jean shorts up your legs and button them over your swim bottoms, quickly walking over to slip on your sneakers. You turn your head as Kie speaks, “If Rafe is there, we’re fucked.”
“Why do you say that?” You look over at her and she raises her brows, “Everything has to be perfect for that fuckin’ kook.”
You nod, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” You grab your phone and slip it into your pocket, “Alright, ready?”
She nods and you both take off down the hall and out the door.
“Hey where are you-“
“Can’t talk, JB. Gotta run to work. We’re late.” You yell as you and Kie run by the Twinkie.
“I can give you guys a ride!” He yells back, but you and Kie just keep running. You weren’t too far from the marina, luckily.
“Almost there.” Kie huffs, “Fuck, we should have just let John B give us a ride.” You laugh as you slow down from a run to a walk, nodding as you take a deep breath, “Yeah, yeah. That would have been.. a better idea..”
She nods, walking down the hill to the dock, you on her tail.
“Ward’s yacht is over there.” She points as you bend down to grab the buckets and rags, “Is he there?”
She makes a visor with her hand, shaking her head as she looks down at you, “No, I don’t think anyone is here.”
“Good. We got lucky.” You stand up, handing her a bucket with water, “Let’s just.. get started before anyone knows we were late.”
You walk down the dock, kicking off your shoes before stepping onto the expensive boat. You set the bucket down and point, “I’ll work down here if you want to go up there?”
“Sounds good.” She takes her bucket and climbs up the steps. You walk over to the side, working on wiping down the seats.
𓂃 ོ𓂃
After an hour of working, Kie taps the boat, “Hey, Incoming.” You look up at her and she points, turning your attention to the man climbing aboard the still boat.
“You missed a spot.” Rafe points, “Yeah, uh, right where your hand slapped the side of my boat.”
Kie scoffs, “Don’t you have anything better to do than come bother us while we’re working, Rafe?” He glances from her to you and shrugs with a smirk, “I mean, last time I checked, this is my boat..” He looks back up at her, “..so, I can come and go as I please, right?”
“Whatever.” Kie scoffs, shaking her head as she walks away from the edge. “Yeah, Rafe. Couldn’t this wait until we were done. You’re just tracking more dirt in.”
You fight back a smile as he walks up to you, “Relax, okay.” He tilts his head, smirking as his eyes bounce from your bikini top back up to your eyes, “I just need to grab something for my dad.”
You playfully roll your eyes, turning your head as his hand drags across your bare lower back as he moves behind you to the cabin.
You didn’t hate Rafe, not in the slightest. You only had to pretend to because if your friends found out you were secretly seeing Rafe Cameron behind their backs, they would absolutely lose it - big time.
Yes, Rafe was a total asshole, but never to you. In fact, he was head over heels for you, and only you. He showed you his soft side, never raising his voice at you. Never taking his anger out on you - unless you asked him to, of course.
It was fun to play enemies while you were around your friends, it only made the love you had for each other grow stronger.
Your hand wiping down the wall comes to a slow stop as you feel a hand lay on your hip, dragging across your back again. You turn your head as he leans in to whisper, “I’ll see you later, alright?”
He quickly pecks your temple and walks away. You look back at him, scoffing in Kie’s direction when you hear her come down the steps, “Ridiculous.”
She rounds the corner, leaning against the side of the boat, “Tell me about it. he’s so..” she raises her voice, looking towards him, “Annoying!”
He raises his hand, flicking her off before walking down the dock.
“Yeah, literally.” You scoff, “I mean, did he even grab anything?”
“I’m not sure. Probably just wanted to piss us off.” She shakes her head, walking over to sit down, “How much more do you have to do down here?”
“I have to clean the inside and scrub the floor out here. Shouldn’t take too much longer.” You sit down next to her, glancing back at Rafe.
He looks up from the guy he’s talking to, smiling as he continues the conversation. You look back, tilting your head up toward the sky with your eyes closed, “You think he knew we were late?”
“I hope not.”
“How many more boats do we have to clean?” You look over at her and she groans, “Oh don’t remind me.” You laugh and stand up, holding your hand out, “Come on. I’ll put some music on.”
She whines as she takes your hand, “Fiiiine.”
𓂃 ོ𓂃
After the Cameron’s yacht, you had three more to do, which, instead of splitting off, you both worked together in the same area which cut down the time by a lot.
“Do you have plans after this?” Kie looks up at you and you shake your head, “Probably just going to get something to eat.”
“You read my mind.” She laughs, “I’m starving.”
“Hold on.” You smirk at her and make your way down into the cabin where the bedroom is. You’ve cleaned this yacht before, so you know where all the hidden snack drawers are.
You grab a few bags of chips and two granola bars, stopping when your phone buzzes. You pull it out, smiling when you see a text from Rafe, Is my girl okay? You seemed a little down when I seen you earlier.
You lean out into the small hallway before answering him, I’m good, just a little on edge. We were late this morning, scared I’m going to get in trouble.
You put your phone back into your pocket before making your way back up to Kie, “Here.”
“Oh hell yes.” She takes the small bag and rips it open, “I love you.” You laugh, “I’m sure they won’t mind, I don’t even think they’ll notice.”
You take your phone out of your pocket, fighting back a smirk as you read over the text from Rafe, You won’t baby I’ll make sure of it.
Kie moves to sit down to snack on her chips, “Remind me again as to why we’re doing this?”
You put your phone away and walk over to sit next to her, “Be..cause we’re hungry?” You pop a chip into your mouth and crunch down on it and she laughs, shaking her head, “No, no. This. Cleaning boats.”
“Oh, well. Thats pretty simple, because my family is a bunch of assholes, but you’re more family than they’ll ever be, and that’s why you’re here.” You smile at her and she smirks, “I just don’t get why your family want to live in the cut when they can get a place over in kook paradise.”
You shrug, “They’re humble with their money I guess. I don’t know. They want me to go to a prestigious school but I just want to live my life, so in that agreement, I make my own money until I’m ready to accept what they want for me.”
Partly why you loved Rafe. He loved you for you and understood that you were your own person.
“Well well.”
You and Kie jump to your feet, “S-sorry. We were-“
JJ stands there laughing, “Oh I got you guys good!”
“Fuck off, JJ.” Kie rolls her eyes, “That wasn’t funny.”
He laughs and sits down, kicking his feet up, “I thought it was pretty funny.” You push his feet off and wipe the upholstery, “Don’t get things dirty. We already cleaned in here.”
“Whoa, sorry.” He holds his hands up in defense, “Didn’t know you guys took this job that serious.”
“You do when your income relies on it, J.” You roll your eyes, looking around, “I don’t know. It looks pretty clean to me.”
“Done for the day?” Kie raises her brows and you nod, “Done for the day. Let’s go eat.”
𓂃 ོ𓂃
You quickly response to Rafe’s earlier text as JJ and Kie are up grabbing the food, Thank you baby. Can’t wait to see you later.
You sit up, tucking your phone between your thighs as you hear the sound of them laughing growing closer, “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” You take the bag from JJ and he plops down next to you, “So who’s getting beer for tonights bonfire?”
“Bonfire?” You ask, glancing from him to Kie, and she nods, “Yeah, John B has been planning one for a few days now, I told you about it didn’t I?”
You shake your head, “I don’t think so.”
“Oh don’t tell me you’re bailing on this.” JJ groans, “You can’t. You’re a pouge, y/n. That’s like.. like a sin to miss out on this.”
“I didn’t say I’ll miss it. I’m just saying, I’m tired so I’m not staying for the whole night.”
“Lame.” JJ groans, “But fine, I’ll accept that.”
Kie laughs, “You don’t work tomorrow, do you?” You shake your head, “No. thank god.” JJ slaps his hands on the table, “Then there you go. You can stay out late tonight and then sleep all day tomorrow. It’s what I do and it works out for me.”
You raise your brows, “Yeah, okay.” You stand up, “I’ll be back.”
“You runnin’ out on us?” JJ asks and you tilt your head, “I have to pee, J. Is that a sin, too?” You and Kie laugh as he shakes his head and you make your way to the bathroom.
You lock yourself in the stall and press your back against the wall as you type, John B is having a bonfire tonight and I’m supposed to go. I need a good excuse as to why I won’t be there.
You see the bubbles pop up and Rafe’s text comes through, Tell them that you’re doing something that can bring you a lot more pleasure than staring at a fire.
You laugh, biting your lip as answer, fine you’ve convinced me, I’ll meet you at the usual spot at six and I’ll wear that dress you like.
You put your phone back into your pocket and walk out, “I’m going to go home and get ready. I’ll meet you guys at John B in an hour?”
“Oh shit.” Kie looks at her phone, “It is three. He said to come over around five.”
“Well. I’ll be at John B’s.” JJ stands up, “I’ll get the beer. See you guys later.” You look at Kie, “My mom texted me when I was in the bathroom.”
“About what?” She tilts her head and you sigh, “Said she wants to have a chat with me.” You laugh, “Maybe we got busted for being late and they called my mommy.”
“Oh god, I hope not.” She frowns, “Well good luck.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” You turn around, letting out a sigh as you push open the door.
𓂃 ོ𓂃
You run your hands down over your dress, turning in your mirror as you give yourself a once over before grabbing your phone.
“Hey.” You call out, “I’m going to John B’s for a bonfire for a little bit.”
“How long are you going to be?” Your mom calls out from the living room, and you walk in, leaning against the door, “Few hours maybe?”
“Okay. Have fun.” She gives you a smile and you nod, turning to leave. You stop at the front door, turning around, “Actually, mom..” you walk back in and she looks up at you, “Yeah?”
“I don’t think I’m going to the fire. I’m going to go for a bike ride, think about college.”
She raises her brows, “Really?”
You nod, lying with full intent, “Yeah, if any of my friends show up, don’t tell them that. They’ll freak out. I want to be the one to tell them.”
She tilts her head, “What do you want me to tell them?” You shrug, “Just tell them that I went to bed or something, I wasn’t feeling good?” She nods, “You got it. Good luck.”
You turn around and walk to the front door, stopping to text Rafe, Fuck the bonfire. I’m coming now.
A smirk grows on your face as Rafe’s texts back, That’s my girl. On my way.
You make your way out the door and to your bike, looking around before pedaling away from your house.
After a few minutes, you smile when you see Rafe’s car parked in its usual spot and you come to stop, getting off to push it behind some trees.
You run around, getting in and immediately leaning over to press your lips to his, “I’ve missed you.” He smirks against your lips, “I can tell.” He chuckles as you sit back down, sliding his hand to your thigh, “God, you get prettier each time I see you.”
He smiles and starts to drive, “Where we goin’ baby?”
You shrug, smiling over at him, “Somewhere no one will find us for a while.”
He nods, giving your thigh a squeeze before he starts to drive. He drives up to a lookout, overlooking the night life filled figure eight, “How’s this?” He glances over at you and you smile, looking from his eyes to his lips, “It’s perfect.”
You unbuckle as you lean over, your lips crashing onto his.
You can hear your phone vibrating in your bag and you huff, “I didn’t tell them I wasn’t coming.” Rafe shakes his head, “I’m sure they’ll understand, baby.”
“I told my mom I was going for a bike ride to think about college.” You giggle, “But this is much for fun than that.”
“Don’t worry about them, okay.“ He kisses back your jaw, “Just relax and let me take care of you, alright? Nothing will happen, not when I’m around.” He lean back, “C’mere.”
You smile and climb over the console to straddle his lap. Your hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders as you lean back in to kiss him.
His hands slide down your sides and around to your ass giving it a squeeze, “Where’s my girl, huh?”
You bite your lip, sliding your hands down to undo the belt on his jeans, “Right here, baby.” Rafe sucks in a breath as you slip your hand into his boxers, nodding with a smirk, “Damn right.”
He reaches up, pulling you in by the neck to kiss you. You swallow his moans as your hand slowly moves up and down his cock, “a-alright, fuck, baby. Enough teasing me, yeah?”
You bring your hand up, collecting a saliva on your fingertips and rub it on the tip of his cock before lifting your dress up and moving to hover over his lap.
You reach down under, pulling your panties to the side before slowly sinking down into him. Your hands fling to his shoulders as your head falls forward to rest against his, “Fuck, Rafe.” You gasp, “Fuck, I’ve needed you.”
His grip on your hip tightens with one hand while he reaches up and tilts your chin up with the other, “Whenever you need me, baby. I’m all yours.”
You roll your hips, your jaw falling open as you feel the entirety of him stretch you out, “You feel so good.” Rafe groans lowly, watching your body move on top of his, “Yeah?”
You press your hand onto the center console, gripping his shoulder with the other one as you bounce.
“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Rafe rests his head back against the headrest, “Just like that.”
Your moans fill the car, the heat from your bodies fogging up the windows rather quickly.
Your walls squeeze his cock, begging for your release to come on quicker, “Fuck, I’m already so close.” A smug smirk slides onto his lips, “That good, huh?”
You smile, head tilting to the side as you roughen your bounces, “F-fuck, fuck, Yes.”
Your eyes lock onto Rafe’s and you watch as his jaw fall slack, groans leave his lips as your moans grow louder.
He slides his hand up to your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls you in, “Cum for me, baby, please.” He practically whimpers, “God you feel incredible.”
You slide your hand up to his, squeezing to indicate you wanted him to choke you harder, and he does. You whimper as he follows through, his grip growing tighter as you gasp, “There.. There baby. Fuck.”
“That’s it.” Rafe groans, “So much better than a bonfire, right?” Rafe reaches down, pulling to recline his seat back and his hands move to your hips.
He holds you still as he bucks his hips upward, fucking you through your high, and all you can do is moan in response, “S-so.. much better, R-Rafe..”
“Yeah, yeah I know.” He grunts out, his lips moving to kiss up and down your neck, “Christ, baby. You have me about ready to cum.”
You laugh slightly, “That good huh?”
“Fuck yeah, baby.” He smirks and lifts his head to press his lips to yours, swallowing each of your moans with ease, just like you do in return with him.
“D-Don’t stop.” You whimper against his lips, “I-I’m almost there again.”
He wraps an arm around your waist, tightening his hold as he continues to thrust upward, “C’mon, baby. I got you.” He connects your lips with his, “I got you.”
You press your hand to the window, moaning out loudly as Rafe brings you to, and through your second high of the night. You look down at him, your hand coming up to ready on his cheek as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You press your lips to his, swallowing his moans as he pushes you down onto him fully.
Your lips move in a slow sync for a moment before you smile and sit up, “Well, that was fun.” You bite your lip as you go to move off of him, but he stops you, “Uh uh. Where are you going?”
“Back over to-“
“Nah.” He shakes his head and reaches down to lift you up. He reaches under your dress and fixes your panties before he fixes himself.
He pulls you down to lay on his chest and he kisses your head.
After a few moments of silence, Rafe takes a deep breath, “Are you really thinking about going to college?”
“I don’t think so.” You answer quietly, “That would require me to leave and honestly.” You sit up, laying your hand on his chest, “I don’t want to.”
He smiles slightly, laying his hand on yours, “You know I’d go with you right?” He scoffs, “I don’t know what it is about you, but I’d do anything for you.”
You smile, “Damn, I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”
He shakes his head with a smirk, “Yeah, I guess you do.” His hand rub over your hip, “Look, I know I’m not really who you’d stay for.”
“Well yeah, you said you’d come with me, so.” You laugh slightly and he looks up at you, “I know.. those.. pouges are you friends and I-“
“Rafe.” You lay your hand on his cheek, “I’m risking everything for love, basically.” He furrows his brows, “What.. do you mean?”
You tilt your head, “What I mean.. is I know you guys don’t get along.. frankly, Rafe. They hate you.” You laugh slightly as he smirks, “I mean, yeah. I get it.”
You lay your hand on his cheek, “I’m risking my friendship with them to be here with you, because I love you.. and I know that.. that it’ll be a shock to them, and they might hate me, too, but no one has ever treated me the way you treat me and I just-“ you sigh, locking eyes with him, “Love.. you..”
His eyes scan your face before he nods, pulling you in for a kiss, “I love you.”
You smile against his lips, moving your hands up to cup his face, “You know.” You sit back, “You are such an asshole.. it’s kind of weird seeing you in this soft sweetheart mode.”
He tilts his head, furrowing his brows, “You’re pushing it.”
“Am I?” You tilt your head and he breaks, cracking a smile as he shakes his head, “No.” He sits up to kiss you and groans, “God, what is wrong with me. You’re like.. a drug that makes me sane.. Jesus Christ.”
He laughs and wraps his arms around you as he tilts his head to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck and giggle against his lips, “I wish we could just stay here forever.”
You look over to the window, reaching up to draw a heart. Rafe watches you, a smile resting on his lips, “If they were really your friends, they’d understand that I’m not trying to hurt you.”
He reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, “It’s not what I want to do.”
You nod, “I know, baby. But with them it’s just..” you sigh, “it’ll take time.”
He shrugs, “As long as I still get to have you.”
You nod, “You’ll always have me.” You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips, “You should probably get me back. They’re probably outside my house waiting for me.”
Rafe groans, “Fine, if you say so.”
You crawl back over to the passenger seat, pulling your phone from your bag.
Kie: are you coming?
Kie: hello? Where the hell are you?
JJ: a sin, y/n. A sin.
Pope: Kie said you were coming? What happened
JB: yo where the hell are you?
Kie: We’re coming to your house. We’re worried.
“Yep. Just as I said.” You sigh as you toss your phone back into your bag, “They’re going to my house.”
“What are you going to tell them?” Rafe asks, taking your hand into his, “You gonna tell them the truth, or..” he looks over at you and you shrug, “I think I’ll just tell them that I was thinking about collage.” You shrug, “I don’t know. I want to be honest with them, but I just know how they’ll react.”
“Tell them whatever you want, y/n, and if you want me to sneak in later, I will.” Rafe chuckles, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
𓂃 ོ𓂃
“Where the hell have you been?!” Kie runs up to you, the guys following behind her. She hugs you before you even have time to get off of your bike, “Seriously a text would have been great.”
You get off of your bike and walk through the group of huddled friends, “I was just.. out.. thinking..”
“About what?” John B tilts his head as you turn around and JJ scoffs, “It better have been good enough to miss this fire, y/n.”
You glare at JJ and he raises his hands, “What? I’m just- it’s true!”
Pope shakes his head, “What ever is going on, y/n, we won’t be mad. We want to help.”
You look between them, looking at Kie, “Remember our conversation on the boat to-“ you sigh, “No I can’t do this.” You go to walk away but Kie stops you, “You’re thinking about it.”
You stare at her and the guys look between each other, confused.
“Thinking about.. what?” Pope shakes his head and you swallow, “College.”
“You’re thinking about leaving?” JJ asks and you shrug, “I don’t know, maybe?”
“No.” Kie shakes her head, “That’s not it, is it?”
You shake your head, “I just- no. I can’t tell you. Just.. go home, guys. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“No, you can’t just leave us on a cliff hanger like that.” JJ yells and right when you turn around, you see a car pull up and your heart skips a beat, “Fuck.”
“What’s he doing here?” John B asks and you all watch Rafe get out of the car, walking around to the group. You shake your head, “Rafe, I didn’t-“
He cuts you off, “Look, I love her and I promise to-“
JJ walks up, socking him across the jaw and you gasp, “JJ!” You run up and push him back, turning to look at Rafe, “You good?”
“Wait..” Kie scoffs, “What’s.. what do you mean you love her?”
“Are you and Rafe hooking up?” Pope asks and you nod, “We’ve been, but it’s a lot more than that.” You take a deep breath, “I’ve wanted to tell you, but I just know that it wouldn’t have ended well and I just-“
“Is that why you haven’t been busting our balls every time you’ve seen us?” John B asks and Rafe nods, “Y/n told me to lay off so.. I did.” He rubs his jaw, “Nice right hook, Maybank.”
JJ smirks, “Thanks.”
“This.. is so weird..” Kie shakes her head, “So you skipped out on the party to see him?”
“No, I skipped out on the party to talk to the only person I know who wouldn’t freak out about me bringing up the idea of college.”
“So did you come up with an answer?” John B asks and you nod, “Yeah. I’ll stay, but it’s not going to change anything between Rafe and I so if you have a problem with that.. that’s on you.”
They all stay silent and look around before JJ raises his arms, “I guess we’re having a non-voyage party then right?”
He claps his hands, “Back to JB’s we go!” He looks at Rafe, “And yeah.. as long as you really love her and treat her with the upmost respect, you can come, too.”
𓂃 ོ𓂃
Haven’t written for the obx in a while, I hope it’s up to par! I love you! Thank you for reading! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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lucedilunax · 14 hours ago
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The fight - Q. Hughes
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pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader
summary: Quinn's girlfriend is turned on after his fight during the game against Kings
warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), dom!quinn, dirty talk, degradation, spit, oral (m and f receiving), dacryphilia, spanking, rough sex, swearing
words: 1.9 k
note: i forgot to add this and it was saved all weekend in drafts haha enjoy it guys!
masterlist
---
„…And Quinn Hughes lost his temper…” That’s all she heard from the tv. The score was showing 3:2 for Vancouver, so she decided to get ready for bed. 5 minutes of the game were left, and she felt confident that Quinn and his team were gonna win this. Although, when she heard the sentence from commentators’ mouths, she froze in the bathroom with her toothbrush in mouth.
She ran back to the bedroom to rewind and see the situation in which her boyfriend lost his cool. When she saw the way Quinn threw Kings’ player into the bands, she felt her cheeks burning. Quinn was the definition of a calm and composed person. She barely saw him losing his temper. She watched this clip all over again. The next thing she saw was Quinn chirping at the guy in the penalty box. All she had in her mind was this fight and him in the penalty box.
Right after the game was over and Vancouver celebrated a 4:2 win, she reached for her phone and sent Quinn a message, “You did incredible today, but the fight?? You’re badass out there, so hot captain”. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She laid in the bed and watched the clips on social media. After two hours, Quinn called her.
“You really enjoyed me throwing the guy into bands?” He laughed. She knew that she’s on speaker when she heard his voice muffled and him packing suitcase.
“Well yeah, I didn’t know you could be that hot”. She said biting her nails.
“Don’t tell me this turns you on”. When she was dead silent, he continued. “You can’t be serious. Me being mad got you on?”
“I… Yeah.”. He giggled. “But in my defense, I never saw you in this way”.
“Oh, what I should do with you now”.
“You can be mean to me too…” Before she could speak again, he interrupted her.
“Princess, you're ridiculous”.
“Why? We can always spice things up in bedroom”. He hasn’t said anything, she felt that it was dumb suggestion. “Or never mind, forget what I said, it was stupid”.
“No, it wasn’t. I just got lost in my thoughts”. He took a deep breath and spoke again. “If this is what you want, we can do it”.
“Oh, I want to”.
“Good… good. Then I expect you to be ready when I get back home”.
“Yes captain”.
“You’re playing with the fire princess”. He already was turned on by the thought of her at his mercy . “I love you”.
“Love you too, can’t wait to see you”.
They hung up and she finally could fall asleep. She set her alarm clock early to get ready. When she woke up, she went to take a shower and shaved her body. After it, she went to their dressing room and picked his favorite lingerie. To make it not too obvious, she put on one of his old shirts and went to the kitchen to make them breakfast. She knew, he’s probably hungry after the trip.
On the other hand, Quinn’ mind was thinking all the time about her words. He couldn’t believe that losing his temper turned her on so much to want to have rough sex. He started to think of the ways to make the most of it and at the same time not to hurt her. There were so many things he always wanted to try with her and now, he saw the perfect opportunity.
When Quinn finally got back home, the first thing that hit his nose was the smell of bacon and orange juice. He dropped his bags by the front door and went further to their apartment. She was placing all the food on the table. She turned and saw him standing in his suit, hands in his pockets. She was already turned on.
“Hi baby, great games in California”. She went to kiss him and placed his hands behind his neck. He grabbed her by the waist and hugged her. His hand went to grab her ass and play with her panties.
“You look beautiful”. He spanked her. “As much as I would love to fuck you, you need to eat because I know that you waited for me. Get your cute butt on the chair and let’s dive in your delicious food”.
She did what he told her. They sat at the table and ate breakfast together. Quinn was telling her how roadie went, and she was telling him about her work. When they finished, she stood up to clean the table, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her on his lap.
“Not so fast princess. We have things to discuss”. He kissed her behind her ear, knowing how much she loved it. “Do you trust me with what’s about to happen?”
“Yes”. She kissed his lips.
“Good. Now, if anything I did will make you uncomfortable, you will tell me, right?” She nodded her head. He grabbed her chin so she could face him fully. “Words princess”.
“Yes, I will tell you. Can we start?” He laughed at her desperation.
“You really turn on, huh? I bet you’re already soaking wet”. He placed his hand in her panties and started rubbing her clit. “Gosh, you’re pathetic. I haven’t done anything and you’re wet. Is the fight really got you going?” She moaned at his words. Quinn never spoke to her like that but she already loved it.
“Don’t tell me that you enjoy when I degrade you”. He said not believing in this but seeing how she blushed, he realized that she enjoys it.
“You’re so simple to read, it’s such a shame that I’ll ruin you today”. Quinn whispered in her ear. He took off his hand from her panties and put his fingers in her mouth. She gladly accepted them and sucked on them. “Bedroom, naked, now. I’ll come in a minute”.
She listened to him and stood up. She went to their bedroom swaying her hips and undressing at the same time. Quinn watched her every move, feeling the bulge growing in his pants. Before he went to her, he undressed by himself, throwing his suit in the bathroom. When he finally stepped to the bedroom, he saw her all naked, kneeling next to their bed.
“How cute. Judging by your position, you want me to fuck your mouth. Am I right princess?” He closed the distance between them and started caressing her cheek.
“You deserve a reward after those games”. She said and grabbed his underwear to take it off, but he stopped her.
“Not so fast. Let me enjoy the view for a bit”. She felt objectified by his words, but she loved this new side of him. She started getting ever more wet. Quinn finally made a move and stepped out from his underwear. “Spit on it”. That’s all he said to her. She obeyed and played with her tongue on his tip. “Open up and start the work”. She took him to her mouth but couldn’t fit his cock. He laughed, seeing her struggle. “Aww, poor baby, can’t even fit my dick”. He mocked her and pushed himself further into her mouth.
The tip of his cock hit her throat. She was gagging around him. Her chin was covered in her spit and tears were falling from her eyes. Quinn looked at her and felt even more turned on. He loved seeing her face so helpless. Before he could release in her mouth, he took off his dick. She pounded on his action.
“You wanted my cum?” He asked, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She nodded but corrected herself.
“Yes… captain”. She used this phrase on purpose, to see where this will bring her. His eyes darkened hearing her, saying captain in a sexual way. This woke up a new side of him. Quinn pulled her by hair so she could stand up. He pulled her closer to his face and grabbed her throat.
“You shouldn’t have said that”. He whispered to her ear. “You’re gonna regret this”. Before she could react, Quinn turned her around and bent her over the bed. The first slap laid on her ass. 
“You think it’s funny?” Second slap. “To call me captain?” Third slap. “Is this some kind of game for you?” Fourth one. “Answer me or have I already made you dumb?” Fifth slap.
“No…” Her voice broke down. “Wanted to see your reaction”. She said all in tears.
He helped her stand up and turn her so she was facing him.
“Poor baby is already crying. Wait until I ruin this pussy”. He kissed her and pushed her on the bed. “Grab your thighs, raise them and keep your legs open”. She obeyed him hoping for him to fuck her. Instead, he played with her clit. “So wet just from using your mouth and spanking. Maybe I should leave you like that. Do you deserve my cock in your greedy pussy?”
“Yes”. 
“Then beg for it. Be a good girl”.
“Please Quinn. Do something, I’ll do anything”. She felt humiliated.
“Anything you say? So pathetic”. He pushed two fingers into her pussy. She screamed, not expecting this. The pain soon became a pleasure to her. He was fingering her at a ruthless pace. She was moaning louder with each thrust. “Shut up. You’re so loud just around my fingers”. She tried to keep the noise quiet but couldn’t. Quinn took his fingers out of her. He went to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. She laid her legs on the bed. 
“Have I told you to do it?” 
“No”.
“Then why did you do it?” He asked, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes. 
“I… I thought you’re done. I’m sorry”. She felt ashamed and tried to ignore his eyes.
“I’ll be the judge of when I’m done with you. Good thing you remembered your manners and apologized”. Quinn caressed her cheek and spread her legs open. He put the tip of his dick in her. He pushed his all length into her. She closed her legs out of habit but he grabbed her knees and spread them again.
“Don’t do that or I’ll not let you come”. He threatened her. The thought of not being able to cum scared her and decided to act like he plays her. Quinn was fucking her fastly. He was abusive to her pussy but she loved every minute of it. She was moaning his name like a mantra. This was a motivation for him. He felt her wall tightening around his dick. He knew she’s close.
“Cum”. That’s all that he said to her. She screamed his name loudly when she reached her climax. Two more thrusts and he also cum. He pulled his dick out of her and threw away the condom. Quinn looked at her trying to catch her breath.
“Hey, you alright princess?” She nodded her head, too tired to speak. “You did so good for me. I’m proud of you”. He kissed her forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you a nice bath”. She followed him to the bathroom. Both of them laid in the hot water. Quinn helped her to wash her body. 
“You were so hot today. Even hotter than in the fight”. She joked when they left the bathroom and headed out to the living room.
“Thanks”. He smiled. “I still can’t believe that you got all worked up only because I threw a guy into bands. You’re something”. He kissed her temple and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch when she sat on the couch and turned on the tv. They spent the rest of the day laying on the couch, cuddling and watching movies.
---
Thanks for reading💕
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flowerandblood · 24 hours ago
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The Price of Pride (23/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, nightmares, speaking about trauma ]
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[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
That night he slept vigilantly – he was awakened by her every movement, her uneven breath, the creak of the bed beneath her body. He held her close and did not let her out of his embrace fearing that again, led by some dark, cruel dream, she would try to do what he had witnessed.
It was only when he saw her standing over the edge of the precipice that he understood what her disappearance would mean: that with her he would lose the part of himself that she had managed to reawaken.
He tried, he made an effort, he changed for her, because he knew that she would see it, that she would appreciate it, that she would tell him, as she always did, that she understood him.
She was the first person to praise him out loud – there was something humbling about how much he craved it, whether from his mother's, his father's, Aegon's, Sylvi's or Criston's lips.
Everyone he had somehow allowed to cross the line and know some part of himself.
However, it was only she who was able to do it in the way he needed – not pitying him, not treating him like a child, but simply trying to comprehend what he was facing, why some things were difficult for him while others were groundbreaking.
He realised that she never demanded anything of him: she never asked him to marry her, she never asked him to send her home, she never asked him to become more open.
She always waited patiently, with a strange, partly incomprehensible understanding, showing him that it was simply his nature.
With her, he stopped being ashamed of himself: of who he was and who he wasn't, what he lacked, what he had lost, what mistakes he had made.
Because of her, he forgave himself.
He had found peace.
And now, that peace was about to disappear with her.
He swallowed hard at the mere memory and snuggled her tighter into him, embracing her more firmly in his arms. He heard her quiet mutter, her fingers tightening on the material of his shirt, her cheek pressed against his chest.
His thoughts fled to what she had said, to what she had seen in her dream – him with another woman, his betrayal, the greatest humiliation she could have experienced on his part as his wife.
He could not comprehend why she thought he could fail her trust in this way, break the oath he had taken before the gods themselves, hurt her while she was helping him heal his wounds.
Even if she were only his lover, he wouldn't want another – he would not be able to open himself up again, to allow someone into his heart and mind, much less at the cost of losing her.
You are my only friend.
And you are mine, he thought, stroking her hair slowly, exactly as she had asked him to do.
She combined everything he wanted, allowing him to take care of herself so that he could feel like a man, while at the same time caring for him, giving him space, so that sometimes, but only sometimes, when he felt weak, he could become a little boy in her arms.
There was something liberating in that thought – in the conviction that his grandfather was right, and that his affection for her could slowly blossom, giving him more strength every day.
He wanted her to be sure of his fidelity and devotion, just as he was sure of hers.
He knew that this alone would give her peace of mind.
To his satisfaction, she stopped pretending not to see him – when she asked him early in the morning if he would help her with her bath and be by her side, he immediately agreed.
He would never have thought he would so willingly step into the role of a servant of sorts – while she sat in the bath in her nightgown, sunk up to her chin in warm water full of fragrant oils, he gently rubbed her arms and hands with a damp cloth.
There was something intimate about this moment, some attempt of reconciliation, of staying together despite all that had happened.
He didn't tell her about what went on behind closed doors – he didn't tell her that his grandfather was delighted with what she had accomplished, that he, Criston and Gwayne were planning to conquer the Eyrie before Rhaenyra could recover from another loss and move on them.
Deprived of Daemon and Rhaenys, she was like a lion without fangs and claws – even new dragon riders could not replace the experience and bond they had with Caraxes and Meleys.
Otto felt, and he agreed, that the kingdom should hear that it was he, not his wife, who had killed Daemon – this was not to give him credit for it, although it certainly helped him as Prince Regent, but above all – in his eyes – it was to protect her from accusations that would be damaging to her.
Namely, that she was a kinslayer.
Word that she had killed her father, committing, like him, a sin unkind to the gods would spread like the wind, preventing her from getting rid of the remorse that was already overwhelming her.
He preferred everyone to think it was he who had killed his uncle.
He was already cursed in the eyes of others anyway, so what he had done would no longer matter.
Daemon's death raised the morale of the army: his soldiers celebrated all the next day after he announced the news. He guessed that his wife heard them, grieving, but he could not forbid them from doing so; he stood between the hammer and the anvil.
To his satisfaction, it turned out that both Cole and Gwayne were men showing enough sensitivity to understand his wife's condition: her help was still needed by them, but it was clear that forcing her to do anything would turn against them.
They had to wait patiently for her to return to balance, in the meantime planning every next step.
The fact that she was carrying his child pleased him, but it also made things even more complicated.
No one but him, Maester and her knew about it.
"I remember more and more. From the time I was a child." Her voice snapped him out of his reverie.
He looked at her, her face flushed from the warm steam that floated around them, her long, dark hair tied back to keep it from getting wet.
He sighed quietly, his thumb running over the moist skin of her wrist.
"And what do you see?" He asked, though he guessed what her answer would be.
"My father. The way my mother spoke to him and about him. She told me once…" she muttered and fell silent, lowering her gaze as if ashamed and heartbroken, her eyebrows arched in pain.
"… she said something that I think was the source of my age-old resentment towards your lineage. She said that the Targaryens have strange customs. That fathers take their daughters to their bed. I think that's why I repressed all my memories of my father embracing me, touching me, kissing me on the forehead. The thought that he wasn't doing it out of fatherly love, but out of sick, disgusting lust, terrified me. She destroyed his image in my eyes because she hated him herself. But now that I think about it, he never touched me in a wrong way. He never even tried."
She whispered, finally looking up at him, as if begging him to confirm her words, to tell her that she was right even though he had not witnessed the events.
He swallowed hard, realising that he often forgot that what his family had been doing for generations was ordinary only for them, but not for people from the outside.
"Marriages in our family happen between relatives, but never between parents and children or grandparents and grandchildren. That would be unacceptable." He replied calmly.
Her fingers clenched on his hand, as if she was wordlessly trying to convey to him that she needed him now more than ever.
"But after all, there were rumours of my father taking Rhaenyra, his niece, to a brothel long before she became his wife. She was still a little girl then." She muttered in a breaking voice.
He lowered his gaze, not knowing what he should reply to these words.
"I've heard about it too, but as you say, it's gossip. I didn't hold any love for him, but I can't say with certainty if or what he did to her at the time. I'm no saint myself." He confessed, finally looking up at her.
She blinked, staring at him with surprise bordering on horror, as if his confession frightened her.
"What do you mean?"
He felt his jaw clench in an unpleasant shudder of discomfort at the thought of what he had done to her.
"I have used you. I did it deliberately for months."
He fell silent, unable to look into her eyes – it was only when he said the words aloud that it occurred to him what he had actually done to her.
"You didn't force me. I agreed to it." She whispered.
"Did you?" He asked, looking at her finally. "Do you think my pride would have endured your refusal, your rejection? That I wouldn't do anything to you?"
She swallowed loudly, looking at him with some kind of worry – her lips pursed into a thin line as she took his hand in hers.
"And you? Do you think I really had any desire to lose my maidenhood with some servant? That I didn't want you to take his place? I didn't know you, nor did you know me. For a long time it was a game, yours and mine. But at some point I no longer knew what was a lie and what was the truth. I began to miss you by day and looked forward to falling asleep in your arms at night. The more I got to know you, the more I longed to stay by your side."
He didn't know why his lower lip was quivering, why he felt a burning wetness under his eyelid, why his throat was squeezed with emotion.
What he couldn't comprehend was the ease with which she was able to understand him and his decisions, as if it didn't require any effort on her part – the knowledge that she never resented him, that she was partially aware of what he was doing and consented to it made him think that perhaps it had to be that way.
That it was somehow their joint decision.
A shared effort to understand who they were, what they craved and why they kept returning to each other.
"I ask you to forgive me." He whispered, clasping his fingers over hers, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
Forgive me for who I was when you met me.
Who I still am when you are not by my side.
"I too ask for your forgiveness." She replied softly, making him feel a pleasant warmth spread across his chest.
The reciprocation.
"I forgive you." He said.
"I forgive you too." She replied and smiled lightly, sincerely, for the first time since those events.
She shifted towards him with a quiet splash of water, and he did the same – he sighed with some kind of relief when her face pressed against his cheek, when her scent filled his lungs, when her full lips placed a warm, wet, tender kiss on his hot skin.
He closed his eye, focusing on that pleasurable touch, his fingers involuntarily stroking her hair, her neck, her jaw, his words against her ear like a whisper.
"I regret that I didn't meet you sooner. That it wasn't the warmth of your body, the moisture of your lips that I experienced for the first time as a young boy. That our fathers did not betroth us the day you came into this world." He spoke quietly, tracing the tip of his nose over the soft, smooth structure of her plump, pink cheek.
He felt her hands tighten on his tunic, her breath caught in her throat as her thighs involuntarily clenched under the water.
His erection pulsed hard in his breeches.
It seemed to him that ages passed before her face slowly turned towards him, before her lips found his, teasing him merely, not giving him full kisses, but only a foreshadowing, an encouragement, a promise of what he wanted so badly.
He pressed her against his body, unable to contain himself, sinking greedily into her soft, wet flesh – his hand clenched in her hair, preventing her from escaping his slick tongue as it burst deep into her throat.
She moaned into his mouth and it was one of the sweetest sounds she'd ever made – he involuntarily smiled, feeling lighter as her arms embraced his neck, as her lips parted, allowing him to continue.
They had never kissed like this before – so slowly, lazily, as if they had all the time in the world. They concentrated on making their lips unite completely, the quiet clicks of their saliva accompanying their every flick. His fingers stroked the skin of her face, her neck and her hair more gently than ever before, as if any sudden movement on his part might suddenly startle her.
"– I miss you – in every way –" He breathed out between one kiss and the next, embarrassed by his desperate confession, which he would not have dared to make in the presence of any other woman.
He knew, however, that she would not mock him.
That she would understand him.
She sighed, pressing her forehead against his, her knuckles running over the line of his jaw.
"– I miss you too –"
Her body beneath him was wet and warm. It seemed to him that they were two parts of one whole – before he did what he so desperately craved, he simply admired the way she looked.
He marvelled at how her breasts had begun to change – through the baby in her womb they had become fuller, plumper, like a ripe fruit.
He leaned over her bare skin, placing wet, lazy kisses around her nipple, finally closing his lips around it. She moaned as he began to tease it with the tip of his tongue, swirling it around the sensitive spot – he knew she loved it when he did that – her hands always pressed him closer to her chest, exactly like now, asking for more.
His hand slid slowly down her waist, to her hip, finally finding its way between her thighs. The tips of his fingers ran over her silky womanhood, collecting the moisture that had managed to leak out of her, merely brushing her hot skin. He felt her body shudder as her legs involuntarily spread wider, consenting to whatever he wanted to give her.
For some reason, he felt as if this was their first time – perhaps because they were completely different people than when he had taken her to his bed.
She remained his prisoner, and he had complete power over her, treating her body as something that belonged to him for the sake of a strict, eternal law, the essence of a woman as one who could not oppose a man.
This time, however, feeling the skin of her soft breasts melt under his lips, sinking his fingers into her sticky, fleshy folds, running them around her little bud, he felt like a young boy exploring a woman's body for the first time.
There was something reassuring about the way she just let him do it, combing through his long, white hair with her fingers, breathing softly, clearly taking pleasure in how slow and precise his caresses were.
Now, lying beneath him, she was truly his little sister, his future wife, betrothed to him from the day she was born, created to be only his.
There was something beautiful about this vision, he thought as his middle finger pushed against her tight, throbbing entrance – she gasped, clenching her fingers against his naked back, but neither she nor her body offered him any resistance.
"– lēkia – I want you inside me –" She mumbled with difficulty, as if ashamed and bitter that she wanted this so badly, that, although she wanted to prolong this state of sweet tension, she was unable to hold out any longer.
His long-fully hard manhood twitched and pressed against her thigh, expressing his irresistible desire to do exactly what she asked.
He released her nipple from between his lips with a quiet click, lifting his face higher, placing a warm, loud kiss on her cheek – he felt her fingers run over his jaw, neck and chest as he grasped his erection in his palm and directed it to her slit. They both sighed when they felt the closeness of their bodies as, with a slow, patient movement of his hips, he opened her for himself and froze in this position.
Her insides were moist and warm, exactly as he remembered – his forehead pressed against hers as they embraced each other tightly, her breasts clinging to his torso in sudden need of closeness.
For a moment he simply looked at her, breathing loudly along with her.
They both sighed with a low, surprised moan as he involuntarily stretched her fleshy walls wider on his erection, sinking deeper into her ��� her hands slid down from his bare back to his buttocks, stroking them in some comforting, tender gesture.
I love you, he thought, placing a hot, moist kisses on her plump lips, letting his entire manhood deep inside her body – the experience was a kind of epiphany, something from which there was no turning back.
She sighed softly into his throat, reciprocating the lazy, sweet caresses of his lips as he began to sink into her with tentative, light thrusts, again and again disappearing into the familiar, the good, the safe.
They embraced tighter, looking directly into each other's eyes and it was the most intimate thing he had ever experienced – he usually avoided a woman's gaze, even hers, afraid of what he would see in it.
Sadness as in his mother's eyes, compassion as in Sylvi's, sorrow as in Helaena's.
However, his hāedar's eyes told him something different – in her gaze he saw pain, loss, longing, pleading, all that he felt deep inside himself.
They both moaned, panting louder and louder as her hips began to sway to the rhythm of his thrusts, reaching out to join him again.
"– you're so warm –" He exhaled wearily, ashamed to hear his voice break.
He wasn't sure why he'd said it – he wanted to say so many other things right now, but he couldn't.
These words seemed natural to him, sincere, coming from the depths of his heart – the outside world was cruel, vicious, cold, and her body was full of warmth, softness, smooth as silk.
They embraced closer and snuggled into each other, stroking each other's hair and faces, kissing slowly and unhurriedly, deeply, tenderly, in a way that deep down he had dreamed of.
He wasn't sure if he was usually a rough, sometimes even harsh lover because he wanted to, or because it gave him confidence, allowing him to keep his face and dignity.
There's more dignity in this, he thought, speeding up his movements, letting their bodies slam against each other loud and fast with sticky splats of their naked skin, listening to their grunts and sighs filled with pleasure.
For some reason he felt more like a human, more like a man, more like himself than he ever had, with his long hair loose falling over her face, without an eye patch covering his eye, completely bare not only with his body, but also with his mind.
He showed her what he hadn't even shown Sylvi.
He showed her that he was capable of affection, capable of longing, capable of suffering because of another person.
He was weak.
But by her side it didn't matter.
Her nails dug into the skin of his back as she inevitably neared her peak, tears of relief ran down her face, a quiet, girlish cry of delight broke from her lips as the sweet convulsion of fulfilment shook her body.
She was beautiful in her vulnerability.
"– hāedar –" He gasped out – his fingers clamped down on the sheet as he groaned low, clenching his eyelids, finally coming inside her, feeling the sudden, wonderful shivers surging through his body, the sweet pulsing in his erection, which at last experienced release.
He sighed loudly as he simply lay on top of her, careful, however, not to crush her with the weight of his body – they embraced with their arms and continued like this, breathing heavily in the silence of the chamber.
He closed his eyes when he felt her lips place a warm, tender kiss on the top of his head and involuntarily smiled, feeling like a little boy again.
At last, after so many years of anguish, he was truly loved by someone.
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levisjinchuriki · 1 day ago
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confession - toji fushiguro
summary: toji, in his own complicated way, loves you and fears it's too late to tell you
warning: toxic!toji, toji being vulnerable, fluff, angst, almost crying, possessive!toji
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your heart races as you grip the door handle, refusing to look back. the weight of yet another argument lingers heavily on you, each harsh word replaying in your mind, cutting deeper with every step you take away from him. you’ve reached the end of your patience with toji's anger, his possessiveness—it’s too much, too hard, too painful to keep holding onto hope that things might someday change.
just as you start to turn the handle, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, firm and unyielding, stopping you in your tracks. you try to pull away, but his grip only tightens. “don’t walk away from me” he says, his voice low and fierce, barely masking the desperation underneath. there’s an urgency there you’ve never quite heard from him before, but you force yourself to ignore it. 
“let me go” you fight him, wanting to leave before he can see you break down.
toji doesn’t respond with words. instead, he turns you around and pins you against the door, his presence overwhelming. his chest heaves, his jaw tight with a frustration that almost mirrors your own, and before you can get another word in, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s fierce and insistent, as if he’s trying to solve every misunderstanding and apologize for every argument.
your hands instinctively go to his chest, pushing him away with all the anger and hurt you feel, but his lips are unrelenting, filled with a need that’s raw and intense. your resolve crumbles as you feel the weight of his emotions breaking through the hard shell he so often hides behind. against every logical thought, you find yourself giving in, your hands softening against his chest as he pulls you closer, every breath, every touch, pleading with you to understand him.
finally, when you’re no longer fighting him, he pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours, his breaths coming heavy and ragged. his hands hold your shoulders, afraid that if he lets go you might run away.
he doesn’t say anything right away, and in the silence, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid, heavy between you. slowly, you open your eyes to look up at him, your breath still shallow and your pulse racing from the intensity of his kiss. you’re surprised to find an unfamiliar expression on his face. there’s no anger or frustration like before—just a look of deep, quiet remorse, softening the hard lines of his features. his brows furrow,  eyes full of emotions he’s never fully shown you until now.
you’re almost afraid to break the fragile silence hanging in the air. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, and you see the conflict written all over his face, his expression caught between wanting to hold you close and wrestling with the regret of every argument that brought you to this moment.
“i don’t know why i always mess this up” he finally murmurs, his voice thick with frustration and guilt. his jaw clenches, and he seems almost angry at himself, as if grappling with emotions he doesn’t fully understand.
you watch him, taken aback by the vulnerability he’s allowing himself to show. this isn’t the strong, unbreakable toji you’re used to—the man who keeps his emotions buried, always hiding behind his tough exterior. this is the man behind the walls, the one who’s just as scared of losing you as you are of being hurt by him.
“don’t go” he quietly pleads. and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he speaks the words you never thought you’d hear from him. “i love you”. his tone is raw, almost broken. 
toji’s love for you is fierce and consuming, even if it’s sometimes buried under layers of anger and silence. he’s not good at showing it; he’s never been good at showing any of his emotions. life has taught him to hide his vulnerability, to be strong even when it would be easier to let his guard down. you can feel the weight of that struggle, the way he battles with himself just to find the right words for you.
love isn’t soft or easy for him. it’s wrapped up in everything he’s never known how to say and every touch that lingers just a little longer, as if he’s afraid to let you slip away. his hand tightens slightly on your shoulder, grounding himself—and you—in this moment. the intensity in his gaze says what he can’t, those three simple words spilling out of him like they were pulled from the depths of a place he barely knows himself.
he’s rough around the edges, yes, and prone to silence when you crave reassurance. but in the way he protects you, in his instinct to keep you close and safe, he hopes you can see his love. it’s clumsy, flawed, but real. and for him, this is everything he can give.
his confession lingers in the air, heavy and vulnerable, a plea wrapped in the few words he knows how to say. his gaze softer than it’s ever been. there’s fear there, a desperation he’s never shown before, as though he’s finally realized he’s been risking too much, that he’s about to lose something he can’t afford to let go of.
“i'll be better, just– don’t leave me” he begs. your eyes brim with tears at his confession. here he is, letting you see his fear and his need in a way that tugs at your heart.
you reach up, brushing a stray piece of hair from his face, fingers lingering against his cheek. “toji… i don’t need you to be perfect,” you say, voice wavering as the intensity of the moment settles over you both. his shoulders sag and he leans into your touch. for a moment, you see something almost childlike in his expression, something hopeful and fragile, like he’s allowing himself to believe he can be what you need him to be. “i just… i just need to know you’re willing to try”.
he nods, eyes never leaving yours, the weight of his feelings clear as he lets himself fall apart in front of you. with one last, shuddering breath, he closes the small distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s deep and tender, a silent promise that he’ll keep trying, as flawed and messy as it may be.
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