#painting of a seated woman
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
âȘïž Painting of a Seated Woman.
Place of origin: Iran
Date: late 18th century
Dynasty/Period: Qajar Period
Medium: Oil on canvas
#18th century#art#history#18th century art#decorative arts#history of art#18th century painting#portrait#painting#painting of a seated woman#iran#qajar
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seated woman holding an apple (1919) by Suzanne Valadon
#Seated woman holding an apple#1919#1910s#Suzanne Valadon#impressionism#modern art#painting#art#Miss Cromwell
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seated Woman, Back Turned to the Open Window, c. 1922
- Henri Matisse
#seated woman back turned to the open window#henri matisse#matisse#painting#daily painting#art#daily art#artwork#daily dose of art
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
De Schilderkunst (Pictura)
Artist: Jan van Mieris (Dutch, 1660-1690)
Medium: Oil on Panel
Collection: Mauritshuis Museum, The Hague, Netherlands
Description
A woman leans dreamily with her elbow on a book while holding a stage mask. Standing on the table is a classical statue of the god Apollo, next to a palette with brushes. Behind the woman an empty canvas rests against an easel. All these objects can only mean one thing: this woman personifies Pictura, the art of painting.
Frans van Mieris was long believed to have made this picture, but it later turned out to be the work of his son and pupil Jan. Like his father, Jan was a talented painter of different materials, as is evident from Picturaâs magnificent gleaming dress.
#painting#oil on canvas#woman#apollo#statue#easel#mask#books#seated#costume#allegory#jan van mieris#dutch painter#european art#table#canvas#art
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Auguste Rodin
seated woman
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
Willem de Kooning (1904-1997), âPink Ladyâ (1944), oil and charcoal on panel, 89.5 x 122.5 cm.
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Mike Bidlo After Picasso âWoman Seated in a Gardenâ
Signed 'Bidlo' (on the reverse). Oil on canvas. 131.2 x 97 cm. (51 2/3 x 38 1/5 in.). Painted in 1987.
#Mike Bidlo#Mike Bidlo After Picasso âWoman Seated in a Gardenâ 1987#american artist#painter#painting#oil on canvas#art#artist#art work#art world#art news
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Portrait of Maria Amalia of Saxony
Artist: Francesco Liani (Italian, 1712-1770)
Date: 1759
Medium: Oil on Canvas
Maria Amalia of Saxony
Maria Amalia (Maria Amalia Christina Franziska Xaveria Flora Walburga; 24 November 1724 â 27 September 1760) was Queen of Spain from 10 August 1759 until her death in 1760 as the wife of King Charles III. Previously, she had been Queen of Naples and Sicily since marrying Charles on 19 June 1738. She was born a princess of Poland and Saxony, daughter of King Augustus III of Poland and Princess Maria Josepha of Austria. Maria Amalia and Charles had thirteen children, of whom seven survived into adulthood. A popular consort, Maria Amalia oversaw the construction of the Caserta Palace outside Naples as well as various other projects, and she is known for her influence upon the affairs of state.
#portrait#seated#half length#woman#maria amalia of saxony#francesco liani#italian painter#queen of spain#18th century painting#historical#european#spanish royalty#column#indoors#costume#spanish history#red dress#shawl#book#lace#chair
1 note
·
View note
Link
NEW today in the series âUnwinding 3âł @ https://www.artmajeur.com/en/account/carmen-tyrrell-9616020/artworks/18269839/share
#carmentyrrell#figurative art#female nude back#seated woman#relaxing and unwinding#painting on canvas#gallery#blue and pink
0 notes
Text
Corpse Groom - G.S.
Synopsis. Till dĂ©ath do you partâŠor does it when a dĂ©athly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the grĂĄve?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CĂRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mĂsogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ĂĄngst, major character(s) dĂ©ath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of dĂ©ath, knĂves, poĂson, reĂncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hĂĄndjobs, fĂngering, spĂtting, cĂșmplay, BRĂEDING, creampĂes, mentions of having kids, pĂșssydrĂșnk Gojo, overstĂm, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swĂ©aring.
Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)
A/N. K!nktober isnât over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3
âMother, I refuse-â
âNonsense, child!â
That sharp snap! of your motherâs feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom.Â
You gulp when sheâs tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. âThe Zeninâs are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.â
The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.
In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, âNow now, why donât we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.â But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. âLike your mother said, dear, the Zeninâs are a good family, with a uh-â Coughing nervously, â-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.â
As if that was the only thing.
But there was no use arguing.Â
Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. âIâd rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.â
---
âWith this hand-â
âLouder.â
âWith this-â
âMore passionate.â
âWith this damn hand-â
âNot a threat.â The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. âHonestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.â
Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.
And her âpoor baby Naoyaâ was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.
âDonât be too harsh, mother.â Naoyaâs smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. âAfter all, itâs this oneâs face thatâs whatâs important.âÂ
God, if it werenât for your parentsâ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say âI do.âÂ
The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power.Â
It wasnât the sort of home youâd like to call your own, but then again, you didnât have any choice in the matter.Â
âMy deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-â your motherâs gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. â-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?â
âSure.â Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. âMight as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesnât make a joke of the vows, that is.â
The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. âDo you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?â No, you want to answer, but bite back. âZenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.â
You wince - and your features sting where theyâd been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. âI apologize, I know how important these vows are, and Iâll- Iâll do better next time.â
âGood.â
With a click of Dutchess Zeninâs fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more.Â
Your wedding ballad.Â
Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest youâd get to a taste of it.Â
It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.
â-for I will be your wine.â
Shit.
You didnât even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup.Â
And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting.Â
Youâre fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-â Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. â-for I will be your- your uh- wine.âÂ
In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoyaâs smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny âAs if you have any other choice.â
You knew what he was thinking.
That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way youâd been taught by your mother not to - in a way that sheâd unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cupâs sake, rather than your own.
Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.
Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoyaâs crisp suit.Â
It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second heâs flailing frantically to wipe it off.Â
âShit- My apologies- oh, shit-â youâre gasping, but thereâs no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiaryâs papers from him, âWait, it will only get worse- let me-â
Only to forget what was in your hands.
Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch.Â
Itâs chaos.
Then itâs silence.Â
Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zeninâs lapels.
Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancĂ©. Youâre the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. âI- I cannot apologize enoughâŠâ
âYou- you witch! This was on purpose, wasnât it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.â Naoyaâs screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasnât for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. âRemember that Iâm doing you a favor by marrying you-â
You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. âI shall reimburse-â
â-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.â heâs frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, âAnd my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-â
âI shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!â
Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, sheâd be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.
Simpering, âItâs quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-â
âNo no no- no, I still want to marry her-â His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, âDoesnât matter if sheâs an unfit wife, Iâll fix her up-â Youâre quirking a brow, âSwear Iâll marry her and fix her up into-â
THUD!
Youâre throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, âWell, Iâd never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.â
And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as theyâd travel to dart out of the door.
Out of the winding corridors.Â
Out of the Zenin Estate.Â
Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, youâre so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that youâre half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets.Â
Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.
You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.
The forest, youâre realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far?Â
Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors youâd definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldnât hurtâŠ
And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-
âAnd your cup will always- fuck- they probably think Iâm such a fool.â youâre spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. âFuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, shouldâve shoved it up his-âÂ
Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gownâs pockets, âUgh, todayâs such a horrible-â Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- âThis isâŠâ
You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.
Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zeninâs would be impressed with.Â
Fit for a king.
You scoff, âAn unfit wife, my ass. Itâs not even that difficult.â
Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows.â Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, âYour cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.â
Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. âWith this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.â
Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.
âWith this ring,â Youâre sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. âI ask you to be mine.â
.
.
.
You donât expect the sudden shift.Â
You donât expect the wind to pick up, you donât expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?
But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently.Â
And you couldâve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way oneâs thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers.Â
Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.
You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!
Shit.Â
Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground.Â
The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes.Â
Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard.Â
And if you didnât think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.
He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close.Â
A man.
Beautiful.Â
Whispering, âI do.â Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. âYou may now kiss the groom.â
---
Youâre barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream youâve had in your life.Â
Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.
Soft, like a leaving lover. Â
Even in your most feverish of dreams, youâd never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes.Â
But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so.Â
The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth.Â
You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldnât dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.
How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.
But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.
Just like he was right now.
âAh!â
âNow thatâs not usually the reaction I- fuck!â
He was real. So painfully real.
And clutching his face where youâd claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.
âOuch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?â Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. âThough, I love a strong woman.â
âNew arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-â
âLooks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we canât keep her long-â
âCan I touch her? Looks so soft~â
White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that youâre being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, âSheâs my wife, you curse.â
âWhat-â It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. âIs this a joke? Where am-â
Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasnât. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams.Â
And all dead, it hits you with a jolt.Â
Yet, somehow, youâve never felt safer in his arms.Â
âSomething wrong, my love?â
You pinch yourself, âI need questions- now.â
âYou mean answers.â One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. Heâd look ever-so-ordinary if it wasnât for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. âHonestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?â
The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, âShut up, Toji. Iâd always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.â
âI didâŠâ you breathe.
Shit.Â
Shit shit shit- you did.
Cocking your head, you ask. âWho are you?âÂ
Heâs rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. âYour husband, obviously?â
And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you werenât dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zeninâs ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows.Â
âSoâŠâ you let out a giggle of still disbelief. âYouâre the tree-â
âNot quite but-â
âOh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.â
âHeh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.â
âPlease donât.â
âYou see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.â A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojoâs chagrin. Words dripping with taunt, âNâ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.â
Youâre dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse.Â
He hums, âHere we have a pompous prince known miles around-â And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. â-fell hard and fast for a cute lilâ peasant girl much like yourself-â
âSukuna, stop it.â Gojo grits, jaw clenched.Â
â-but, alas. When dear olâ dad the king said ânoâ, he jusâ couldnât cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-â
Youâre thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, âMeeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know whatâs lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.â When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible.Â
Tojiâs the one by your side this time, âPoof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didnât even want to stay here-â
â-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.â Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if itâd been opened and fixed many, many times. âAnd waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.â
You.Â
And Gojo looks at you like he canât look away.
Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting.Â
Until you came along.
---
âHERE YE, HERE YEâŠFUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MANâ now for the weatherâŠâÂ
âWhat?â your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But heâs never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, âWe come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-â
âMaybe itâs a ah- slow news day?â
Theyâre interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of oneâs throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. âWe are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!âÂ
âAh!â sheâs gasping. Waving her hands frantically, âW-we promise weâll find her before the wedding-â
âYou better.â
âNo.â Naoya Zeninâs voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But heâs not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. âIâll be the one to find her.â
Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.
Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, âAnd NaoyaâŠâ She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. âRemember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.â
---
Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.
âThis is where I always visited after first dying.â he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. âThe view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.â
Youâre startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe.Â
âBeautiful.â
âWhat-â your eyes widen - and you donât know whether itâs from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking.Â
A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought youâd see.Â
You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. âIt is beautifulâŠâ
âIt is.â Gojoâs tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze.Â
Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasnât expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. Heâs smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.
Youâre letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - youâd never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost.Â
Treasured.Â
âItâs for you.â
âWhat?â Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojoâs held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. âPlease- I canât, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.âÂ
âAnd it is.âÂ
This was the firmest youâd heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. âIâve had it for years.â You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. âConsider it a wedding gift~â
Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. âIf only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I wouldâve gifted you something, too.â
âHeh, you donât have to.â
âDo tooâ
âDo not.â
âDo too.â You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. âIâm not going to be an unfit wife.â
Thereâs a second of silence.Â
One.
Two.
And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoyaâs to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles.Â
âIâm sorry- Iâm sorry I- hah!â heâs barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. âYou never change, huh-âÂ
It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, âNow who said youâd ever be an âunfit wifeâ, sweetheart- Yâknow I really didnât believe Tojiâs airhead comment but- oh-â
You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, youâd think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldnât follow through underneath your motherâs watchful eye.Â
Ah, but youâve never smiled harder when you claim. âI think I won our first argument as a married couple.â
âOh, can you do this fâme when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?â Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows.Â
He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But heâs taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. âBut fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- Iâm kidding Iâm kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.â
And you couldnât not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where youâd remembered had a grand piano nestled away.
Gojoâs pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. âYou donât have to play, you can listen if youâd like-â
âHey, I know this one.â youâre gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right.Â
Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his.Â
âYou know it.â he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.
And you were never one to back down.Â
âHeh, youâre not half bad-â But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojoâs half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. âPardon my enthusiasm, my love.â
You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. âI like your enthusiasm.â
Thereâs a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and youâre shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you donât have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold.Â
âHowâŠâ he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. âHow did you know that song?â
But you couldnât tear yours away from him, âOh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-â
His pretty lips fall slack, âOhâŠâ
Youâre not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, âB-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.â
âThatâs my girl.â Gojo winks, and youâre feeling your skin heat up.
âAnyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.â
âIt was.â
Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And youâre biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, âYou were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-â
To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you canât quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, âWell, itâs just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear olâ husband here died just before we could.âÂ
Youâre swallowing the lead thatâd seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. âAnd the- the bride? What happened to her?â
âIâŠdonât knowâŠshe probably saw I wasnât there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.â He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adamâs apple bobbing heftily. âItâs funny- todayâs a hundred years since that day.â
Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.
âYou loved her?â
He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. âI love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.â
Something really hurt - and it wasnât just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you canât help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum.Â
âShit-â youâre hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. âShit shit shit-â Big arms wrap around you, âAre you alright? Shit-â
The swinging pub doors slam-
âWhat happened?â
âThe bride from upstairs-â
âSheâs still here?! She already dead or what?â
More and more voices are joining in - and youâre not sure if youâre thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that theyâre making it ache more deafeningly in response.Â
âPlease- space.â Gojoâs stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity youâre thinking that heâd make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. âMy wife needs space, and you all will leave-â
Nanamiâs strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. âWhat she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.â Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. âWith fresh air, with her kind. I donât know what fantasy youâre playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isnât good for her.â
âBut-â
Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojoâs soft jacket for dear life.Â
âBut sheâs my wife.â
Everyone goes quiet.Â
You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojoâs the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, âN-nanaminâs right- we- I have to get you back.â
Your eyes shoot open, âWhat- no-â
âItâs for your own good.â Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, âTrust me.â
âBut-â
âPlease?â
---
Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that heâd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.
Even more so when you were by his side.Â
âOhâŠâ And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, âHow I missed the beautiful upstairs.â
Youâre giggling, batting your lashes up at him. âWell, youâre not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?â
âPlease.â He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. âCall me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.âÂ
And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, âDo we have to?â
Itïżœïżœïżœs as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and heâs letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you wonât see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, âWe do.â he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. âBut I wouldâŠif youâd like- I would really like you to say my name just once.â
Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours.Â
âMy love?â
Nothing.
Gojo whirls around, âMy love?â
Nothing.Â
---
âLet me go let me- go-â you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didnât give a fuck right now. âI will never- ah-â
Unceremoniously, youâre thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zeninâs gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, âI will never marry your son.âÂ
But itâs like youâd never spoken at all.
Sheâs turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. âAh, my son-â Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. â-I see youâve brought your wife back.â
âOf course, mother.â heâs humming. âHad to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-â At this, heâs turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. â-with another man no less- well, canât quite call him that if he didnât even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.â
Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. âThat other man is my husband-â
âWhat?âÂ
Itâs your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. âWhat nonsense are you speaking-â Sneaking a glance at your father, âOur daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.â
Heâs just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none.Â
Youâre wrenching yourself away, âIâm fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-â Every eye was on you know, and oh youâve never felt more of a spectacle. â-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-â
âThat trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.â
âOf course, but the weddingâŠpoor dear-â
âThe only thing sheâs good for is the money.â Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. âAnd maybe a free trip to the hospi-â
âThe wedding will take place.â Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. âCall the officiary, and as for my future bride, I donât care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I donât care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.â
Itâs like youâre a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him.Â
It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, sheâd only cryptically answered about âthe dress being with this family for a long, long time.â
No one here seems to give you answers.
Or grace.
Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya.Â
Your throat tightens when youâre stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue babyâs breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.
You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune youâd played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, youâre realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.
âPssst! Walk!â Your motherâs high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.
And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.
Naoyaâs smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. âSmile a little, itâs a wedding after all.â
You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, âPerhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.â
âDearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-â Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, âYou may begin first.â
He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows.â This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. âYour cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.âÂ
Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will beâŠâ
Shit.
Shit, you canât do it.Â
Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya.Â
âI will- I will be-â
âHow scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!â
The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didnât care. Didnât even feel it because youâre too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.
Or more accurately, who.Â
âSatoru!â The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like heâd been waiting a hundred years for this very moment.Â
âI thought you left me waiting.â he breathes.
âI would never- and- and youâre here.âÂ
âMhmââ
You canât help but let out a laugh, âHow did you even know where to find me?â
âOur duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-â He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. âAnd you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didnât do the same?â
âYou. You- What- what is the meaning of this?â Dutchess Zeninâs squawk tears through your little moment, sheâs whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. âMarried woman- husband? Youâre dead!â
Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, âI am.â
But the ever-composed woman youâd feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you.Â
âYouâre dead youâre dead youâre dead-â she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. âYouâre dead- my family made sure of that-â
She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, âM-made sure?â
âYes-â Sheâs fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. âShit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-â
âFor dead.â he whispers. Youâre too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. âBut she came back to me.â
âHer? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-â
And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how heâd closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, âI donât care- You forget she was engaged to me first.â
âSheâs still my wife.â Gojo spits.Â
âNot if youâre-â Naoyaâs unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. âDead!â
Schwingâ!
It would have been sure to hit you.Â
Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadnât deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. âYou forget I already am.â In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoyaâs chest. âLet go of me and my wife, before you join me.â
Itâs silence.
Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoyaâs stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-
âI will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-â
Dutchess Zenin.
Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming.Â
And soon enough, youâre standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors.Â
But something about it tasted bitter.Â
Different.
.
.
.
And all of a sudden - you see dark.
âPoison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!â
âHow will the wedding go on?â
âNo- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her willâshit-â
âMy love---listen----hear--me?âÂ
In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoyaâs, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. âHeheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?â
âSâToruââ youâre whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. âToru- am I- where am I?â
âYouâre here, sweetheart.â he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you canât help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zeninâs to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. âYouâre- youâre here, with me.â He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. âRest now, Iâll wait for you. I promise- I promise.âÂ
And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket youâd never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo.Â
Of himÂ
AndâŠyou.Â
âIâll always wait for you, in life and death.â
---
âHey- Toruââ your voice rings out in Gojoâs favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. âDo you think Iâll be an unfit wife?â
He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. âWhat- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?â
Youâre settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since youâd introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. âWell perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-â
âShhh!â Gojoâs bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. âYou never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.â At your amused laughter, âNâ besides, doesnât matter if weâre going to elope, Iâm not letting my wife pick up a thing.â
âWhat- no-â
âIâll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know youâll love.âÂ
Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, âWeâll drink, weâll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-â And another on your nose, âThen Iâll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- donât hit royaltyâ! And run away to our happily ever after.â Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,âTrust me.â
âBut-â
âPlease?â
Youâre fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. âFine- but then-â Deftly unclasping it, â-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this Iâll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.â
âOur duet?â
âOur duet.â
He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. âIâll protect it with my life-â Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, âAh- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.â
âI like your enthusiasm, dummy.â youâre rolling your eyes at his antics. âBut what if Iâm late? The music lessons always take so longâŠâ
âJust meet me here at our place - promise Iâll wait for you, of course. In life and death.â
You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.
You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zeninâs raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.
With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that wonât take place.
Not for a hundred years.
---
Youâre waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours.Â
Finally, remembering.
âSa-Toru-â youâre gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you donât need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. âIâmâŠâ
âDead.â
His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, youâre reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.
You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, âI- I really am dead.â
Gojoâs wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, âHow- how do you feel, my love?â
Too-late youâre realizing that youâre splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth.Â
âI think I feelâŠâ youâre muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just canât help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. â-that I havenât spent enough alone-time with my husband.â
He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasnât before, like itâd been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free.Â
âOh, my love.â Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. âWe have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?â
Youâre pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, âOf course, I remember- all of it, dummy-â Swatting his chest, âWhy didnât you tell me?â
Heâs gulping heavily, âI always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.â Cupping your cheek, âAnd oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didnât even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?â
âI would have done it.â youâre pouting, brows scrunching.Â
âExactly.âÂ
âI waited for you, yâknow. For years, until my death. No âdeserving husbandâ, and no children.â
He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, âBut in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-â On your nose now, â-Iâll wait for you. Always have, always will.â Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, âIn life and in death.â
Gojo kisses you like heâs been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again.Â
Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, heâs tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump.Â
âHeh- you never change-â he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue.Â
âT-Toruââ youâre managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojoâs eyes. âArenât you forgetting something?â
Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips.Â
âYouâre forgetting your promise from all those years agoââ youâre dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. â-to consummate our marriage.â
And oh.
Oh, Gojo Satoru feels heâs dying six times over already.Â
He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants.Â
âW-well thenâŠâ heâs rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost donât recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! âOpen that mouth fâme, my love.â
You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojoâs spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue.Â
Nodding smugly when youâre taking him all, heâs swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter.Â
Whispering hoarsely against your lips, âI ask you to be mine.â
âYes-â youâre whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. âYes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-â
And the sound of that cute lilâ nickname youâd made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojoâs entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- âO-oh, shit- shit youâre gonna be the death of me-â
But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojoâs shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? Youâll have to ask about that later.
And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy.Â
âSo beautiful-â his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. âSo perfectââ The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. âSo mine.â
As soon as youâre blinking your dazed eyes back open, youâre hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool.Â
Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?
âHeh, already so needy, sweetheart?â He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, âSo cuteââ
But, of course, you werenât exactly one to be pushed around, either.
With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. âO-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?â
With a snicker, it doesnât take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch.Â
âF-fuck-â heâs hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didnât even realize what he was doing right now. âFuck fuck fuck- honey, I-â
The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and heâs moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-
Oh.Â
âFuck, Toru.â
Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.
Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful.Â
Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers.Â
Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that youâre worried your fingers wouldnât even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp.Â
âYes-â Gojoâs rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lilâ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- âYes yes yes- câmon- c-câmon my wife-â
Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and heâs letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips.Â
âTighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-â Gojoâs babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. âY-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over justââ
Youâre swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively.Â
âS-sâthisââ you stagger out, wrist aching when youâre moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum itâs forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, âSâthis good, Toru?â
And god, how dare you even ask that?
With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, youâre flinching at the nip of his sharp canines.Â
âOh, yer perfect-â heâs blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. â-so so- p-perfect- any harder nâ mâgonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.â
His words come out a burst - a beg.Â
In that very heady moment heâs just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off.Â
âS-so oh!â Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, âSuch a pretty cunt, wearinâ such a dirty lilâ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?â
And you couldnât dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojoâs gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.
âWho was this for?â heâs echoing. âNâ no lying to your h-husband.â
âToru-â
âTell me, my pretty wife.â
âIt was-â youâre mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. â-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-â
Oh, but fuck - it didnât matter who made you wear those sinful panties.Â
Because itâs only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth.Â
He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans.Â
Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like youâve never been kissed before.Â
âH-hngh, Toruââ youâre moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. âFeels so- ah!â
And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry.Â
Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside.Â
It made Gojoâs thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard.Â
âMhmââ heâs purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. âTell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck donâ squeeze me like that- ah-â
Heâs just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like youâre trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.
Gojoâs biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. âCanât- hah- canât take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.â
And he didnât even have to tell you - you could feel it.Â
Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy.Â
âNeed to make you mine-â heâs gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojoâs mouth water. âNeed to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-â
Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. âPlease please please-â
And itâs whispered over and over like a mantra when youâre cumming - again and again, so hard that you didnât even realize youâre reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers.Â
âYeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.â Heâs thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, âSpread wide- heheh, yeahhhââ
Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he canât cum.Â
Wonât cum just yet.Â
Not until heâs fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles.Â
And then heâs dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess heâs made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly.Â
âM-mmm-â heâs rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, youâre spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. âShit- shit, sweetheart-â
You canât even react before heâs then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs.Â
âBetter let her know mâcoming back for seconds later.â
You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. âHeh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.â
Itâs so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie.Â
Because heâs the one thatâs so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and heâs just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.
Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, âDamn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckinâ- ordered-â
In split-seconds, youâre being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojoâs biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.
âToruââ youâre whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, âH-hurry up-â
âEasy there, my love.â
Itâs ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojoâs resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, âArch jusâ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-â
Heâs taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers.Â
Youâre gasping - stunned.Â
âDonât l-look at me like that, Iâve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand nâ imagination-âÂ
And then Gojoâs gasping, heâs snapping his eyes open, heâs heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock.Â
Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot youâd feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. âThis is long overdue.â
âHey!â you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when heâs rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. âWhaâs that for?â
âKeep it on.â Gojo nips at your earlobe.
And then heâs spitting you open - heâs pushing in.Â
Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojoâs circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper.Â
He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. âCâmon-câmon câmon câmon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it fâme.âÂ
How could you not?
Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly.Â
âPlease-â your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojoâs neck. âFuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-â
âOhhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.â He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. âMy beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.â
Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.
Heâs hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could.Â
âWh-what do you m-mean-â Theyâre falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. â-b-byââ
âAwww, donâ hngh- p-push yourself, my loveââ heâs simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husbandâs tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, âWhat I mean isâŠâ
Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. â-that mâgonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.â
This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojoâs end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard.Â
Crying out, âIs- is that even possible, Toru?â
But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. âI donât know hah! Havenât got a fuckinâ clue- but that doesnât mean mânot gonna fucking tryââ
And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.
You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course.Â
You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir.Â
You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that heâs ever wanted in life and death.Â
Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly.Â
âOh oh-â Gojoâs groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. âAww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?â
No, you want to scream - but you canât.Â
Because heâs only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue.Â
But Gojo wouldnât listen in the first place, couldnât even think of anything that didnât stem from his achy cock pummeling into you.Â
Messily, heâs swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more-Â
Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight.Â
âThis what y-you wanted?â he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesnât have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. âTell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettinâ so soaked-â
âYes-â youâre sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. âY-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-toâŠâ
âWhat?â heâs spitting. Wild. âTell me, sweetheart- please- please-â
And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that heâs just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer.Â
But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying.Â
Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams itâs cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-
âNeed you to f-fill me up-â you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. â-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-â
Oh, this might just be his third death ever.Â
Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town.Â
Over and over.
âYeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-â heâs babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that youâre barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. âFill you- up- ngh- so theyâll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- ohââ
Right now, Gojo didnât give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didnât give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest.Â
Because right now you were cumming.Â
That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when youâre finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound.Â
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good.Â
And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojoâs when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders.Â
Or maybe that was just him - because so was he.Â
âF-finally-â Gojoâs hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. âWanâed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-â
His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed.Â
âYeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-â
And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words.Â
Fuck.Â
Heâs gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, âGonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swearââ
Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight heâs gifted to see. Humming, âIn life and in death, r-remember?â
Bang!Â
The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you.Â
In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.
Into the meanest mating press possible.
Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojoâs swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.
The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.
And he canât help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where heâd drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench.Â
âOh f-fuck yeahââ Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. âGonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-canât take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.â
You mewl when heâs licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, â-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toruââ
âYeah-â he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, âWe wanted. Itâs why I didnât reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here sâto spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, yâknow?â
You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, âThatâs- thatâs mine, too.â
Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like heâd never let you go ever again - couldnât bear to.Â
He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to.Â
âThen-â His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesnât think heâs done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when heâd taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. â-weâre both lucky.â
Itâs only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.
And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojoâs shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt.Â
Messy. Drooling.
Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-
Just a tease for more.Â
âBecause I keep my promises, my wife.â his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. âIn life and in death.â
A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE Nâ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope yâall have a lovely lovely week <3
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
I wanna make it (so badly)
Art Donaldson x Fem Reader
Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).
Word Count: 5.8k
i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that
Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details
Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.
Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.
Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.
You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.
You were above average with a good arm and better patience.
Another odd job to add to your growing list.
You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.
Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.
The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.
You always did very well.
So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.
Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.
But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.
Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.
What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?
He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.
As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.
The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.
Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.
Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.
If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.
The woman that once held the world by the balls.
She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.
The Donaldson's.
Ah fuck.
Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.
"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"
You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.
There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.
You were no exception to the rule.
"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."
How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.
A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.
The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.
"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."
"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."
Oh, okay then.
You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.
Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.
Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.
You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.
You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.
As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.
"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."
She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.
You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.
Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.
As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.
And you knew he was watching you.
-
The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.
A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.
"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"
You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.
Felt good to be the winner.
Even just once.
In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."
You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.
It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.
It was even easier to believe she was just that good.
As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.
Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?
Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.
Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.
Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.
Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.
It was no surprise you dreamt of him.
-
The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.
Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.
You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.
Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.
"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."
Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-
The kid's running you ragged.
Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.
But you're sure there are eyes on your back.
Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).
Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.
You know you're about to earn your keep.
By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.
Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.
Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.
That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.
You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.
The Original Sin.
Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.
"It's nice to finally meet you."
You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."
He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.
It should've felt condescending. It didn't.
"How did she go out there?"
"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."
He laughed.
Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.
Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"
You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.
"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"
Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.
He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.
"Must've been distracted."
Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.
"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."
And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.
-
And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?
An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.
An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.
A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.
At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.
That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.
"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."
You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.
Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.
"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."
"Your elbow is too low."
It was a miracle you didn't scream.
Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.
Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.
"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"
"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"
"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."
Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.
Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.
It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.
It wasn't.
"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."
If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.
As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.
And Lily upon her trusty steed.
The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.
"Lily, go find grandma."
Then it really was just you two.
Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.
"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."
He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.
With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.
Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.
As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?
"Good girl."
There it was.
Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.
So, you should've moved.
Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.
You should've moved.
But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.
Obedient thing you seem to be.
"Show me that again?"
So,
You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.
Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.
A simple transactional arrangement.
Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.
Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.
A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.
You figure Art will take what he can get.
And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.
It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.
The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.
Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.
So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.
You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.
-
Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?
Chasing Lily around a court.
Adhering to Tashi's every request.
Being Art's fantasy.
Being Art's.
Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.
Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-
Winning?
He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.
Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.
Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.
Until, well- until they weren't.
"Would you like a coffee?"
Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.
He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.
Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.
"Yes please."
Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.
You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.
Had he always looked this captivating?
He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.
It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.
This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.
Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.
"Mr. Donaldson-"
"Art."
"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."
He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."
Naturally.
That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.
Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.
Maybe it was fate.
All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.
Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,
Yet.
One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.
It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.
A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.
"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"
"Actually, it's still Duncan."
You screamed.
Right in his face.
Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.
However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.
Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.
What a fucking sight.
Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.
You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.
It took all your strength to find your words.
"Iâm not here to teach tennis, am I?â
âNo, of course not. Youâre frankly terrible at tennis.â
There's the Tashi you were expecting.
Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.
Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.
Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.
"Why am I here?"
She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.
"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."
-
And he had, just like she'd said.
Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.
And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.
You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.
Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.
You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.
But the showerhead knew all about them.
Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.
How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.
It was no surprise you dreamt of him.
You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.
And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.
Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?
That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.
You loved it.
When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.
Tashi's car was gone.
"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."
At least you didn't scream this time.
You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.
"Oh, ok."
"I'll see you on the court."
Oh, ok.
Lest he see the disappointment that took over.
Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.
Tennis was fun too, you guess.
Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.
You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.
It never came.
Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.
The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.
This was going to hurt.
From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.
Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.
You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.
He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-
Like he was enjoying himself.
For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.
For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.
Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.
You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.
No hurry, but impending.
Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.
Now this was God's favourite.
"You can't be giving up this easily?"
Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"
Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.
Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.
This was more your speed.
The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.
Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.
Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.
"I didn't give up."
He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.
"Mmm, you didn't."
The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.
"Where's my prize?"
There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.
But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.
You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.
Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.
Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.
Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.
You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.
His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.
With everything he had.
Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.
Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.
You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.
Utterly devotional.
The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.
His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.
Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.
The style was calculated.
Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.
Playing a game.
Art struggled to do anything but win.
"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."
"Art."
Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.
You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.
It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.
You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.
"Tell me this feels good, please."
Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?
You might black out.
"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."
He whined.
A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.
Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.
The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.
He was going for gold.
A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.
You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.
Oh, ok.
Art Donaldson knew what he liked.
You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.
Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).
Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.
A deuce.
His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.
"Uh- I already have."
Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.
Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.
Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.
All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.
He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.
Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.
"I can't lose- you."
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x reader fic#challengers fic#art donaldson fic#challengers smut#art donaldson x fem reader#art donaldson x fem!reader
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Seated Woman with Cat
- Edith Prellwitz
#seated woman with a cat#edith prellwitz#painting#daily painting#art#daily art#artwork#daily dose of art
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Portrait of Henrietta Skerrett Montalba (1856-1893)
Artist: H.R.H. The Princess Louise (British, 1848-1939)
Date: 1882
Medium: Oil on Canvas
Collection: National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Henrietta Skerrett Montalba
Henrietta Mary Ann Skerrett Montalba (8 April 1848 â 14 September 1893) was a British sculptor, born into a renowned family of artists. She studied art at what was to become the Royal College of Art with fellow-student, Princess Louise, Duchess of Argyll. The Princess painted a portrait of her which today hangs in the collection of the National Gallery of Canada. She first exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1876, and her work was often seen at the Grosvenor Gallery in London. Montalba was rarely separated from her family, residing in later days chiefly at the family home in Venice, Italy. She died in Venice, on September 14, 1893, and was buried near her father in the island cemetery of San Michele. One of her sculptures, a bronze titled Boy Catching a Crab, is in the collection of The Victoria and Albert Museum.
#portrait#oil on canvas#seated#woman#sofa#throw pillow#flower bouquet#h.r.h. the princess louise#british art#european art#artist#sculptor#british history#18th century painting#black dress#lace
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Husband?
About: How does he react when you accidentally call him your 'husband'? Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)
RAFAYEL
The evening was going smoother than expected, considering Rafayel had dragged you along to one of his many gallery showings. He had made a big deal about how you should be the one showing off his work to the public, claiming he didnât want to deal with the âart-snobs." Yet, the second you both arrived, he quickly preoccupied himself on his phone, leaving you to handle most of the small talk.
One of the visitors, a curious older woman, was admiring a painting of his, a chaotic burst of color with soft hints of golden light. You were discussing Rafayelâs "creative process" (whatever that wasâhe hadn't told you much before retreating to his phone), when she asked how long youâd been working with him.
âOh, itâs been a while now. Itâs honestly amazing seeing him grow like thisâmy husbââ You froze mid-sentence, realizing the slip just as it left your mouth.
"Husband?"
The word hung in the air for barely a second before you felt Rafayelâs presence shift. His head shot up like a bolt of lightning, his playful, cunning eyes locking onto yours. You could practically feel his grin before you even dared to glance over. You didnât even need to turn around to feel his gaze burning into you, practically shouting, Oh? Husband, you say?
âHusband, huh?â Rafayel drawled, pocketing his phone and sauntering toward you with that signature smirk of his. âI didnât realize we were making things official tonight. If Iâd known, Iâd have worn something even more dazzling.â
You flushed, attempting to stammer out a correction, but he was far too pleased to let you off the hook that easily. He leaned casually against the gallery wall, one arm crossing his chest as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.
He gently took your hand in his, his dramatic flair dialed up to maximum as he pressed an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, clearly relishing the moment. "I mean, I canât say Iâm surprised. Who wouldnât want to marry someone as charming as me?"
The visitor chuckled awkwardly, clearly not sure whether to stay or go, but Rafayel was already having way too much fun. âOf course, as your loving husband,â he continued, drawing out the word in a singsong voice, âitâs only fitting that Iâm showered with even more attention now, isnât it? I expect lots of praise, darling. I mean, just look at me." He struck a faux thought-provoking pose, tilting his head and flipping a lock of his perfectly tousled hair.
You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but at the same time, his antics made you laugh. âI didnât mean toâ"
"Oh no, no,â he interrupted, wagging his finger playfully. âYou canât take it back now. The wordâs out, Miss Bodyguard. Youâve called me your husband. That means youâre stuck with me. Forever.â There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. âDoes this mean I get to cheat at board games forever too?â
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you playfully swatted at his shoulder. âAs if you needed a reason to cheat more!â
Rafayel laughed, that familiar bratty grin plastered across his face. âWell, if Iâm your husband now, I think itâs only fair I get first dibs on everything. Cards, claw machinesâoh, and donât forget, I demand the comfiest seat when we binge-watch our shows.â
Despite his teasing, the warmth in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. You could see the genuine delight he took in your slip-up, how pleased he was at the thought, even if heâd never admit it outright.
âFine, fine,â you sighed dramatically, playing along. âBut donât expect me to let you win at everything, âhusband.ââ
Rafayel beamed, and for a moment, that bratty, carefree mask of his slipped, just a little. He tugged you closer, his voice softening as he murmured, âDeal.â Then, just as quickly, he switched back to his usual, cheeky self. âNow, letâs go, wife. Youâre required to be by my side while I survive this boring night. â
Shaking your head, you laughed, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. âYouâre impossible.â
The woman, watching the scene unfold with a warm smile, laughed. âYou two make quite the pair.â
âOh, we do, donât we?â Rafayel quipped before lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear, leaning in ever so slightly. âYouâve really outdone yourself, calling me that in front of witnesses. Now theyâll all expect a wedding invitation.â
Your face burned as you tried to shush him, but he was loving every second of it. He tilted his head, his hair catching the light as his smile softened into something more genuine, the bratty exterior fading just a bit. âStill⊠I canât say I hate the sound of it,â he murmured, brushing a finger lightly under your chin before pulling back with a playful wink. âI might just get used to hearing it.â
You could only manage a huff of exasperation, but deep down, you couldnât help but feel a flutter at the way his teasing had just a hint of sincerity behind it.
Rafayel, always dramatic, and yet somehow, just when you least expected it, a little bit sweet.
ZAYNE
You and Zayne were in the middle of your usual weekly grocery run, efficiently dividing and conquering your list to save time. Heâd taken off towards the produce section while you headed for the rice aisle. As you browsed the different varieties, a middle-aged man beside you struggled with lifting a heavy bag of rice.
"Need a hand?" you asked, stepping in to help. The man smiled gratefully as you hoisted the bag into his cart with ease.
"Thank you, young lady," he said, rubbing his wrist. "My arthritis is flaring up today. Getting oldâs no fun."
You offered him a sympathetic smile. âNo problem at all. My husbandâs a doctor, actually. Iâm sure heâd tell you to take it easy on that wrist."
The man nodded in agreement, offering you one last thanks before heading off. You turned back to your cart, completely unaware of the word you had just let slipâhusbandâor the fact that Zayne had returned in time to hear it.
You felt him step up behind you, his presence calm yet undeniably magnetic. When you finally glanced over, he was standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Husband, hmm?" he said softly, his tone more curious than teasing. "That's... new."
You froze for a second, eyes widening as you realized what youâd said. Â You opened your mouth, the words tripping over each other in a rush. âI didnâtâ I mean, it justâslipped out. Weâre not actuallyâI mean, obviously, weâre notââ You could feel the heat creeping up your neck, and no amount of backpedaling was helping.
Zayne didnât seem in a rush to let you off the hook. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining with an ease that made your heart stutter. âYou know,â he said, voice as calm as ever, âif this is your way of bringing it up, there are smoother ways to do it.â His teasing was subtle, barely perceptible if you didnât know him well, but it was there in the gentle tug of his smile.
You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. âZayne, I didnât mean toââ
But Zayne, ever level-headed, merely took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing against your knuckles. âRelax,â he said, his voice low and soothing. âItâs not like I mind the idea.â
Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked up at him in surprise. There was a softness in his usually stoic gaze, the kind that made your stomach flip. He continued, his voice measured but affectionate, âSeems like the next logical step, doesnât it? My parents have been asking me when Iâm going to take that step with you for a while now.â
His calm tone made the statement feel both casual and monumental at the same time. âWait, your parentsâŠ?â you started, blinking as your brain processed this new information.
âMhm,â Zayne replied, still holding your hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. âTheyâve been pretty vocal about it, actually. But Iâve been waiting for the right moment.â
The right moment. Those words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of what he was saying. He was seriousâcalm and casual, as always, but serious. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Zayne in that grocery aisle, hands linked, talking about a future you hadnât even realized you both wanted.
âOnly if you wanted to, of course,â he added, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your hand. âI wouldnât do anything unless we both agreed.â
You stared at him, a smile slowly spreading across your face despite the initial shock. âYouâre really suggesting this now? In the middle of a grocery store?â
Zayne smirked, his usual pragmatic self. âWell, weâre already talking about it. Might as well make use of the time.â He glanced down at your joined hands, his tone softening again. âBesides, I think itâs worth discussing what our future looks like, donât you?â
Your heart swelled at his words, and the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to make you feel grounded, no matter how your emotions were spinning. âYeah,â you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand gently. âI think itâs definitely worth talking about.â
Zayne leaned in closer, his lips brushing your temple in a rare public display of affection. âGood,â he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet kind of affection that made your chest tighten. âWeâll talk more later.â
He pulled away just as smoothly, picking up the cart with a practiced ease, as though he hadnât just suggested the two of you start planning your future together. His eyes twinkled, a subtle tease hiding behind that usual calm exterior of his.
âAnd for the record,â he added, as the two of you moved on to the next aisle, âI wouldnât mind hearing you call me âhusbandâ again.â
Your cheeks heated again, but this time, you didnât bother trying to hide your smile. âGuess youâll have to earn it first, doctor.â
Zayne chuckled softly, that familiar, grounded confidence in his voice. âIâll be sure to work on that.â
SYLUS
The desert sun was relentless, and you could feel its heat pressing down on you as you stood beside Sylus, waiting to be seated inside the restaurant. He had dragged you out of Linkon on one of his mysterious venturesâno explanation, no warning, just the two of you thrust into the desert with little more than his cryptic directions. And while Sylus might have thrived in the N109 Zone's shadowy world, he was decidedly out of place here in the glaring sunlight,already starting to show hints of discomfort.
You glanced over at him, squinting slightly under the bright light. His expression was carefully controlled as always, but you noticed how his hand twitched subtly as if annoyed by the heat. The two of you had been waiting to be seated inside for a while now, and you decided it was time to speed things up.
Catching the attention of a passing waitress, you waved her over, putting on your best expression of concern. âExcuse me, my husband and I were hoping to be seated inside. Iâm feeling a little faint under the harsh sun,â you said smoothly, the lie of you feeling faint rolling off your tongue with ease.
The word husband had slipped out so naturally, you didnât even realize your mistake until the waitress nodded sympathetically and promised to get you a table indoors right away. As she walked off, you felt a cold gaze slide over you, and you turned to see Sylus staring down at you, one brow raised, a slow, dangerous smile creeping across his face.
âHusband?â His voice was smooth, but there was a teasing lilt beneath it. âDid I miss a wedding, wife?â
Your breath caught in your throat. "Waitâno, I didn't meanâ" You started to stammer, heat rising to your cheeks, but before you could backtrack any further, Sylusâ arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. His grip was firm, possessive, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him.
âI like the sound of that,â he murmured, leaning in just close enough for you to catch the scent of the desert air still clinging to his clothes. His lips ghosted near your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. âMaybe this is a sign I should make it official.â
You swallowed hard, heart racing as you tried to keep your composure. âOfficial?â you echoed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. âWhatâwhat are you talking about?â
Sylusâ smirk widened, his amber eyes gleaming in the sun. âOh? Cat got your tongue, Sweetie?â he teased, his tone dripping with amusement as he let his fingers trace a light circle on your hip. âYou seemed so sure a moment ago, wife. But now? Speechless.â
You blinked, trying to gather your wits, but the sheer cockiness in his tone was making it hard to think straight. âIâŠI was justâŠhelping us get a table,â you protested weakly, trying to pull away from his grip, but his hold only tightened.
âOh, Iâm sure you were,â he drawled, clearly reveling in your flustered state. âBut now that youâve set the bar so high, donât tell me youâre going to back out on me. After all, you made quite the declaration back there.â
âI wasnâtââ You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you regained a sliver of your usual confidence. âYou know it was a slip-up, Sylus. Donât start getting ideas.â
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. âIdeas? Sweetie, I live for ideas.â His grip loosened just enough to let you step back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasnât about to let you wriggle out of this one easily. âBut letâs be honest, you didnât hate it. Calling me your husband.â
Your face flushed again, but this time, you managed to meet his gaze without faltering. âI didnât hate it,â you admitted, folding your arms, âbut donât go thinking youâve won. Iâm not about to sign any papers just because you liked hearing it.â
Sylus tilted his head, the playful smile never leaving his lips. âWeâll see about that, kittenâ he said, the threatâor promiseâhanging in the air between you as the waitress returned to guide you inside.
You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. âPlease, Sylus. You couldnât handle being married to me.â
He raised an eyebrow, leaning in with that infuriating smirk. âOh, I think I could handle you just fine, sweetheart. Youâre the one who might need to keep up.â
You shot back, âKeep up? Iâd be carrying you the whole way.â
âCareful, Sweetie. That sounds an awful lot like a challenge.â He chuckled, his hand brushing against yours again. âNow thatâs a tempting thought.â
âTempting? Try exhausting,â you quipped.
As you walked beside him, you felt his arm brush against yours, and the sensation lingered far longer than it should have. Sylus, of course, said nothing, though the smug expression never quite left his face.
This was clearly far from over. And judging by the glint in his eye, Sylus was going to make sure you never forgot your little slip-up.
XAVIER
The cafĂ© was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of patrons and the comforting smell of fresh pastries. You and Xavier had settled in for a peaceful afternoon, your table already adorned with a delightful array of treats. He had requested a simple drinkâno whipped cream. The barista returned, placing his drink in front of him with an impressive mountain of whipped cream on top. Xavier, as calm and indifferent as ever, simply blinked at it, showing no signs of complaint. He wasnât going to say a word about it, but that didnât mean you were going to let it slide.
Excusing yourself, you raised a hand and called over a passing staff member. âExcuse me,â you began, with a polite smile. âMy husband asked for no whipped cream on his drink, but it looks like thereâs some here by mistake. Would it be alright for us to get it changed?â
The words tumbled out so smoothly that you didnât even realize your slip-up until the staff member nodded apologetically and hurried back to fix the order. It was only when you turned back around that you saw Xavier sitting there, looking unusually... stunned.
He was blinking slowly at you, his expression softened by a hint of confusion andâwas that amusement? âHusband?â he repeated, his soft voice barely more than a murmur.
Your face flushed as you fumbled for an explanation. âOh, no, waitâ! I didnât meanââ You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. âThat just slipped out! I meant to sayâŠuh my boyfriend? Partner? Date? Notâwell, not husband, obviouslyâŠâ
Xavier continued to blink, his face now showing just a little more expression than usual. The faintest curl of a smile played on his lips, and he tilted his head, considering your words. âI mustâve missed that chapter in the 'Guide to a Healthy Relationship,'â he said in that calm, unruffled way of his. âI didnât know weâd moved on to the husband-and-wife stage.â
You groaned inwardly, burying your face in your hands. âI swear, it was an accident. Just ignore what I said.â
But Xavier was clearly in no mood to let it go. âSo, dear wife,â he continued, completely unfazed by your protests, âdo you think weâll have matching mugs in our future? Maybe get a nice house, with a small garden and a picket fence?â
You shot him a playful glare, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to stay annoyed. âVery funny,â you muttered, though your lips were twitching at the corners, betraying your amusement.
âI think it has a nice ring to it,â Xavier said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this far more than you expected. âI wonder how long it would take for people in the association to start sending us wedding gifts. Or perhaps they'd just send weapons... you know, as a gesture of goodwill.â
You couldnât help but laugh. âI donât think wedding gifts are really their style, Xavier.â
âHmm, youâre probably right,â he said thoughtfully, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. âBut you did call me your husband in public. Shouldnât we at least play the part now?â
Your cheeks were burning, but you couldnât resist playing along with his ridiculousness. âFine,â you said, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. âBut just so you know, dear husband, youâll be the one doing the dishes.â
Xavier chuckled softly, the sound rare and surprisingly warm. âAs long as you take care of meals. A fair trade.â
You were about to retort when the waitress returned with Xavierâs newly corrected drinkâthis time, free of whipped cream. She set it down with a smile, glancing between the two of you as if sheâd picked up on the playful atmosphere. âHere you go,â she said. âNo whipped cream this time, sir.â
Xavierâs eyes glinted as he thanked her with a nod, and after she left, he looked back at you with a satisfied expression. âSee? Husband perks,â he teased, taking a sip of his drink.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldnât hide the smile spreading across your face. âYouâre an idiot.â
âAnd youâre adorable when youâre flustered,â he said, the teasing lilt in his voice gentler now. He took your hand under the table, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. âBut... thank you,â he added after a beat, his voice softer and more sincere. âFor speaking up for me.â
You blinked at him, momentarily thrown off by the gratitude in his tone. âOf course,â you said, squeezing his hand in return. âThatâs what wives do, right?â
Xavier let out a soft laugh. âI suppose so,â he murmured, his lips quirking into a rare, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.
In that moment, with his hand in yours and the gentle teasing in the air, it was easy to forget the world outside the cafĂ©. Just the two of you, playing pretendâbut maybe, just maybe, something more.
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#lads sylus#lnds rafayel#lnds zayne#lnds xavier#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#drabbleswithlina#l&ds zayne#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#lads drabble#l&ds sylus#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier#l&ds#zayne#xavier#rafayel
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
đđ
đŒđčđŻđŒđ©â đ© đŠđŒđźđźđŒđ©â.
â§ïœĄË erenâs over just being your best friend.
đČđđ
đ©đŒđ©đąđź đŒ 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ê° baby, pretty, luv. ê± , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.
"i'm outside."
why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole.Â
eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop.Â
eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop.Â
"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncĂ© plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better.Â
"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed.Â
"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow.Â
"where am i supposed to sit, woman?"Â
"the floor like always."
"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time.Â
"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault."Â
you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick.Â
"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"
you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."
"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."
that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.
"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.
"don't be fuckinâ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack.Â
"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away.Â
âoww, fuckinâ gremlin,â he hisses dramatically, as if youâd stabbed him. ânext time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."
"your dick jumps for me enough."
erenâs eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
âwell,â he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. âyou wanna see it?âÂ
you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. âknow you wanna see it again.âÂ
âsays who?â you raise your brow, testing him.Â
by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it.Â
âyou heard me,â he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up.Â
âokay, daddy,â you grin mischievously.
âmhm,â he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie.Â
"connieâs outside, you done?âÂ
âyou rushing me now? i donât like this rennie tonight,â you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them.Â
you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin.Â
âsorry, iâll be on my best behavior.âÂ
you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. âsuch a good boy. now, letâs go!âÂ
âwait, i want a kiss, wife,â eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face.Â
âleave me alone, pervert!âÂ
connieâs goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that heâs going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didnât live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when youâre in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. theyâve gotten slightly better though since youâre with him all the time.Â
you loved drift meet upâs because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. itâs illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyoneâs able to get away with it if they donât act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police.Â
eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasnât parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before youâre locked in, excited for him.Â
âi need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,â he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise.Â
âthatâs specific,â you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him.Â
eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. âwhat can i say? i have a type.âÂ
âyou sure do,â your voice trails off, focused on connieâs loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you donât notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend.Â
removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. âconâs!â
eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connieâs car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. âthat was fucking awesome!âÂ
âyeah, fuck with me!â he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers.Â
âhey girly!â luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind.Â
âhiii!â you giggle.Â
âshit was good, i taught you well,â eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers.Â
âyea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,â connie sucks his teeth.Â
âoh my god, we should totally drift each other!â luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction.Â
âwhaâwho said you driving my car?â connie blinks, flabbergasted.Â
luna goes to hit his arm playfully. âcabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lilâ thingy thing.âÂ
âoooo, yayyy!â you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. âoh, please?! i wanna shotgun!âÂ
âbe my guest, sweetheart. but donât try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,â his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.
âmhm, i make no promises,â you wink, racing towards his car.Â
connie laughs at erenâs strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didnât know. like the fact that erenâs madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. itâs not secret to anyone, really. as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.
heâs getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely.Â
eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention.Â
âpromise me youâll be safe,â you look up at him, worried.
a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. âdon't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.âÂ
âiâm trusting you,â you whisper, biting your lip. âdonât hit anybody, i donât need you going to jail. and please donât hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.âÂ
eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. ânow whyâd i risk traumatizing my girl like that?âÂ
you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. âarenât you going to start driving?âÂ
eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. âpromise me something, too?âÂ
âwhat?â
âweâll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?â he grins.Â
âoh please, you know you canât handle me,â you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, youâre aware none of it is a joke.Â
eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. âoh, i canât?âÂ
ânope. and youâre too scared to admit it,â you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction.Â
âmhm,â eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. âima hold you to that.âÂ
âdrive the damn car, eren.âÂ
ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connieâs car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. youâre like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up.Â
âiâm doing it!â you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide.Â
âê°âĄê±, sit your ass down.â
âwoo!â itâs too late, now youâre banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. erenâs hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle.Â
âgoddamit,â he groans, but couldnât help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. youâre enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldnât help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.
connieâs car slides vertically next to erenâs, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with lunaâs as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating.Â
erenâs hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position.Â
âthat was sooo fun!â the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldnât hide the upset on his face.Â
âiâm sure. next time, listen to me when i say donât hang your body halfway out the fucking car. youâve never done that before, what if you flew out?â the sudden change in his tone takes you aback.Â
âi can take care of myself,â you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw.Â
ânot saying you canât. iâm telling you donât be so fuckinâ reckless,â his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesnât mean to ruin your mood. surely didnât want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. âdonât die trying to show off.âÂ
âdonât die trying to protect me.âÂ
âê°âĄê± . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.âÂ
âarenât we meeting our friends to get food? letâs go.âÂ
connie did mention theyâd be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldnât allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet âthanksâ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute.Â
âyou okay? you look sad?â luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant.Â
you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. ânothing, iâm just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.âÂ
glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small âyo, wassupâ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one oâclock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since sheâs been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if heâs sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didnât want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least thatâs what you liked to tell yourself.Â
time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food youâre playing with at this point with your chopsticks.Â
eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. âcome take a ride with me.âÂ
you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. âwhere are we going?âÂ
âi need to talk to you about something.âÂ
youâve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. youâre not sure if heâs still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you donât like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldnât make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology shouldâve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing youâve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, heâd take that chance to fix it. when heâs serious about something, it gave you goosebumps.Â
his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. âokay.âÂ
âweâre gonna go,â you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand.Â
âawe, okay boo! it was nice seeing yâall,â luna waves to both of you. erenâs patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you.Â
eren smiles. âyou too, love. iâll see you tomorrow, con.âÂ
âbet, see you. yâall be safe.âÂ
the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. itâs secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. itâs surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. itâs been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something.Â
âcan i?â you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object.Â
âyeah,â heâs handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily.Â
eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. âlemme start by saying iâm not mad at you.âÂ
you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments.Â
âyes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and itâs always been like that. so donât think iâm being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know youâre grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.âÂ
âi know, and i apologize,â you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. âi do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didnât want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything couldâve happened.âÂ
despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say whatâs really on his mind at the moment. âyou still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.âÂ
âyeah,â you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. âstill working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.âÂ
âiâm glad you understand. but, thatâs not what i wanted to talk to you about.âÂ
you look up. âwhat is it? did something happen?âÂ
eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. âlook . . iâm gâna be straightforward with you. i donât need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. iâll give you the time and space you need to think on it if youâre feeling the opposite. but. .â
his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. itâs clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. heâs scaring you. âme and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that itâs been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.âÂ
the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, heâd stand by what he felt. and if you didnât feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. youâre unsure why youâre not . . surprised? heâs always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasnât necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, heâd brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty.Â
"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ê°âĄê±."
" eren. . . "
"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."
eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.
âtalk to me,â he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. itâs stronger than ever right now.Â
âi feel the same way,â you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. âi just didnât want to ruin our friendship.â
erenâs breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. âwhy the fuck would you think that?âÂ
your shoulders shrug shyly. âi donât know,â your voice drags quietly. âsometimes shit like that doesnât work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didnât want us being together to fuck up the vibe.âÂ
âwe not everyone,â he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. âand we act like we date anyways. wouldnât be no different.â
you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadnât known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other.Â
âyou have no idea,â he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. âhow much i want you.âÂ
âshow me then.âÂ
erenâs eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so itâs completely flat and youâre resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.
âi need you,â you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further.Â
âfuck,â he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. âyouâre making it hard for me to keep my shit together.âÂ
âlick me up,â you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. âplease, mâdripping.â
âfuck,â he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. âanything for you, baby.âÂ
his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so itâs easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. youâd slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh.Â
âcâmonâah!â your breath is taken from you for your impatience, erenâs mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before heâs lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head.Â
the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises heâs only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. heâs always kept that to himself, knowing youâd be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didnât know itâs because you couldnât stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid.Â
he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, âyou are fuckinâ drippinâ.âÂ
your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck.Â
âfuck, baby,â he moans. âyouâre so sensitive.âÂ
his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues itâs relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.
âwet nâ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jusâ like you, right?â he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy.Â
without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.
âstick your fingers in me,â you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. heâd rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldnât deny what you pleaded for.Â
eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.
âlike this?â he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. âfuck you up real good? âtill you cream on me?âÂ
ây-yesss, f-fuck,â your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing itâs relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out.Â
âima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. iâm too fucking hard for you,â he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.
âkeep fucking me, baby. fuckinâ love your tongue.âÂ
eren loves your cries so much itâs hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. youâre drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like heâd use his dick. Â
making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of âyes, yes yes, baby,â as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin.Â
while you take time to recuperate, erenâs leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. âknew you wanted to see it again.âÂ
you cover your face. âshut up.â
with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before heâs grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, thatâs exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive.Â
âtell me youâre okay.âÂ
you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. âyes, mâokay. itâs okay.âÂ
the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so itâs easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and thatâs only half of him.Â
âfuck,â he gasps, grinding into you slowly so youâll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. âthatâs it.âÂ
with each heavy thrust, eren canât help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. heâs fucking you faster with each thrust.
âsâso good, f-fuck,â the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldnât believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though.Â
âthatâs it, youâre such a good girl,â his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. heâs a fucking trip.Â
âiâm your good girl?â your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly.Â
â âcourse you are,â he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. âbetter than that. youâre my baby.âÂ
âiâm your baby?â the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling.Â
eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. âyouâre my baby.âÂ
âmy pussy loves you,â you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach.Â
âit does, huh. tell me how much, love.âÂ
âloves it so fucking much, daddy.âÂ
âthatâs what i wanted to hear,â he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. âoh god, baby. you feel so fuckinâ good.âÂ
âyeah, daddy?â you whimper, biting your lip.Â
âyes, babydoll,â eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. âbend over.â
you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before.Â
âunh, sshit,â eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull.Â
âsshit, youâre so deep, ah!âÂ
his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage.Â
âgâna cum, baby,â eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break.Â
ânoo, donât cum yet,â you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. ân-not there yet.âÂ
âi wonât. wonât cum yet, baby,â he hisses in response. âwanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?âÂ
âmmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,â your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder.Â
âtake it fâme, ê°âĄê±.âÂ
âiâm taking it, baby. for you.âÂ
âmoan fâme,â his lips get closer to your ear, erenâs eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open.Â
âm-moaning for you, babyy-ah!â
âfuck it back fâme, act like you wanna get fucked,â eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.
âiâll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,â youâre straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. youâd never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. âooo-mnmg, i feel it.âÂ
eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. âeren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.âÂ
your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you.Â
âren,â you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesnât budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive.Â
âyou came without me, baby. bad girl,â he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face.Â
a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.â
"please, what?â he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts.Â
"please, erenâs-slow. iâm sensitive.âÂ
"that's not my name. what's my fuckinâ my name, ê°âĄê±?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.
"s-shitâdaddy, please!âÂ
despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.
âjusâ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,â his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before heâs shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax.Â
âooo, you fuckinâ me so good.âÂ
â âcause itâs you, âcause i love you.âÂ
with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how thatâs fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if youâve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, youâve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good.Â
âfuck!â erenâs tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.
he kisses your neck softly. âare you okay, love?â
you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. ây-yeah. mâgood.â
before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before heâs climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console.Â
youâre laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. âso pretty, baby.âÂ
that makes you weaker than anything heâd just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, itâs always been clear. you hate how long itâs taken you to realize that.Â
âi donât have to think on it,â you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. âi know i love you too. for a while now.âÂ
the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. âfor real?â
you nod. âyeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewifââ
âshut. the. fuck. up,â eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldnât see the redness in his face. of course youâd mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm.Â
âseriously, eren, i hate that shit!âÂ
âblah, blah, blah. love you too.â
© đźđŻđŠđ
đ”đČđ
đ
đŽ! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life âĄ
#đৠËâ
đđđđđđđđđđ đđđđđđ đđ đđđđđđ.#eren x black y/n#eren x reader#eren x you#eren x y/n#eren smut#eren yeager x you#eren yeager smut#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager#snk smut#snk eren#aot smut#aot eren#aot eren yeager#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger smut#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Willem de Kooning (1904-1997), âSeated Womanâ (c. 1940), oil and charcoal on masonite, 91.4 x 137.3 cm.
5 notes
·
View notes