#so for now he's just- fucking around and finding out
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wcnderlnds · 3 days ago
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bad idea right? | choi su-bong (thanos)
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・❥・ summary: what happens in the squid game bathrooms, stays in the squid game bathrooms ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex. female reader. swearing. ・❥・ authors note: i haven't wrote smut in months so you'll have to forgive me if this is awful <3
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It had started off like any normal day in the Squid Games. You’d woke up, got traumatised by the day’s game, cast your vote and then ate the meander meal they’d gave you – sandwich and a drink. Nothing out of the ordinary except today had been the day you had officially met Thanos. You had seen him around – his purple hair was hard to miss – but you’d never really spoke to him. In fact, most of the time, you kept to yourself but this game had meant that you had to pair up with people. There had been one moment where you were struggling to find a group when suddenly a flash of purple hair grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into a room with him and a few other boys. From that moment on, he had stuck by your side during the game even kicking out one of his closer friends. Why he had latched on to you, you had no idea but you couldn’t have been more thankful. If it wasn’t for him, you’d surely have been eliminated by now.
The moment you’d got back to the main holding area, he pulled you into a giant hug. His arms engulfed your body, pressing you flush against him as he rambled about how glad he was that you were safe and how he wanted to be with you and not his friend.
Somehow that had led to where you were now — locked in a bathroom stall with your back pressed against the cool wall, the pants of your sweatsuit down your legs. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d even got into this predicament. Maybe it was the feel of Thanos’ body pressing against yours, maybe it was the attention from the most handsome guy in this place — you had no idea. All you knew was that Thanos was on his knees, his mouth between your thighs devouring you like a man possessed.
His tongue flattened, licking a long stripe up your folds. Your fingers tangled in his purple locks, tugging on them as his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking the sensitive bud. The moans falling from your lips were breathy as you tried to keep quiet. The last thing you needed was to get caught. Having sex in the bathroom was surely grounds for elimination. 
“You’re fuckin’ dripping, baby,” Thanos mumbled against you as he lapped up your juices. “You taste so good, Senorita. Could do this all day.”
His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and licking along your folds before he dove the muscle into your tight hole. A gasp emanated from your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair even tighter as he fucked you with his tongue. 
“Fuck, Thanos,” you panted. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna come.”
Suddenly, he pulled away from you, wiping your juices from his lips with the back of his hand. Damn, could this man get any hotter? He rose to his feet, hand sliding to the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he shoved his into your mouth, tangling with yours. Moaning into the kiss, Thanos used his free hand to pull his own sweatpants down just enough to free his aching cock.
“Jump,” he mumbled against your lips. Instantly, you obliged. His hands caught you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His length brushed against your folds causing a shudder to run through your body. Was it just this place? Because you had never wanted someone so badly before in your life. Never had you felt so desperate. The lingering fear of death was probably a factor – making you crave as much intimacy as humanly possible. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget all about these games, senorita.”
Before you could even reply, he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing into you with one hard thrust. His hand flew up to cover your mouth, hiding the loud moan you’d let out at the feeling of him bottomed out inside you. He drew his hips back until he was almost all the way out then thrust back in, hard. He set a fast past, withdrawing his hand from your mouth so he could grab at your hips. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough he was sure to leave bruises but you didn’t care. The feeling of him pistoning in and out of you, the draw of his cock along your walls was enough for you to feel like you were in heaven. Nothing else really mattered in that moment.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Taking me like a champ,” he groaned, his eyes glancing down to watch his dick move in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom stall. His hands slid down your back to grab your ass, pulling your body into him as he fucked into you to take him deeper. 
“Oh, right there, right there,” you whimpered as he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars. Thanos smirked, covering your whimpers with his mouth as he picked up his pace. He made sure to angle his hips so he hit that sweet spot over and over again to the point you were a whimpering, moaning mess babbling nonsense about how good he felt inside you.
Your hands clawed at his back, head thrown back against the wall as he pounded into you with animalistic speed. He was like a man possessed, fucking you with an inch of your life to bring you both to ecstasy. One of his hands reached up into your hair, yanking your head back roughly. “Come for me, Senorita. Show me who’s making you feel this fucking good.” 
He could feel your walls clamping down around him, bringing his own climax closer. He redoubled his efforts, covering your mouth once again sensing how close you were. His body felt like it was on fire as he thrust his hips relentlessly against yours. His forehead rested against yours as his grunts came more frequently, trying his best to keep quiet himself. Then, he felt it, his balls tightening as he toyed on the edge of ecstasy. 
“Oh fuck,” you cried out, though it was a mumbled against his hand. Your body shook as your orgasm crashed over you, hips bucking wildly against his. The feeling of you coming undone around his cock finally pushed him over the edge.
“Shit, I’m coming. Fuck,” he groaned, burying his head in your neck, his teeth biting down on your skin as he thrust into you one last time, hips stilling as he painted your insides with his release. After a few minutes, he finally caught his breath back, pulling out of you with a hiss. He tucked his softening length back into his pants, leaning back against the wall on the other side of the stall. His eyes watched you as you pulled your own clothes back on. Both of you knew this had to stay between you, if anyone found out they’d surely use it to get you eliminated from the games.
Your fingers ran through your hair trying to at least make yourself look presentable before you went back into the pits of hell. “Well…”
He held his hand up. “No worries, gorgeous. Maybe if you’re lucky, we can have a repeat of this after the next game.” He unlocked the door, his arm outstretched to let you out first. “That’s if you make it this time.”
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yanderedrabbles · 3 days ago
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Stupid question I got but how’d some of your OCs feel about thigh high socks, pantyhose, and just general borderline provocative clothing?
Also any of them prefer lingerie? Or don’t really care for it at all?
yandere boys and provocative clothing
Hmm interesting question. I think that each guy has his own version of provocative clothing - something you wear that immediately has him undoing his belt - and its not always what you expect.
Yandere! Cowboy is the happiest man around when it's sundress season. Pretty and flowy and showing off your tits just right. Not to mention the easy access. He'll probably come up behind you and pin you between the kitchen table and his body, hands trailing up your thighs and his nose pressed against your hair.
"Wearin' such a pretty dress means you want me to fuck your little brains out, don't it sugar?"
Yandere! Soldier goes feral when you wear his shirts and socks and nothing else. Nipples just visible through the thin cotton. He's much bigger than you, and his shirts usually fall between mid and upper thigh on you. Seeing the size difference manifested like that is so damn sexy. He's the type to tug at your hemline again and again until you snap at him and give him a reason to pull you onto his lap.
"так грубо - So rude. Shouldn't you be nicer to me when you're wearing my clothes?"
Yandere! Boyfriend buys you tiny, tight gym sets. The kind that toe the line between appropriate and not. HOWEVER you will absolutely not be wearing any of them out of the house. They're perfect for lifting weights in the garage, but no one gets to see you dressed like that besides him. After a long, brutal gym session he loves peeling your sports bra off. Totally ignoring you when you beg him to at least let you shower first.
"C'mon baby, as your personal trainer it's my job to take care of you after such a gruelling set."
Yandere! State Trooper gets turned on so damn easy by heels and pencil skirts. Loves the way your legs look a mile long and he can just make out the heart shape of your ass. Kinda corporate core, it makes him feel all the filthier to have you on your knees. Gets out all the tension after a long day of dealing with stuck up business assholes who think money puts them above the law.
"Say pretty please and maybe I won't handcuff you this time."
Yandere! Academic Rival has low-key Internet brainrot. He gets off to you whenever you look like an e-girl, complete with thigh high socks and a tight leather choker. He might be all old money on the outside, but deep down he's a total gooner. Did you figure it out early on and now constantly use it to your advantage? Who's to say...
"Goddammit, how am I supposed to study when you're dressed like that?!"
Yandere! Cyberpunk Mercenary likes latex and neon, unsurprisingly. Bright body suits that glow fuschia and acid green under the blacklights, showing off your curves like a glow in the dark fuck toy. And tight latex catsuits so he can oil up your thighs and fuck himself silly between them.
"Aww pretty little rich girl doesn't know how to take cock? Don't worry darl', I'll teach you."
Yandere! Sugar Daddy loves designer lingerie. He wants his to girl to dress up for him in the rarest and finest sets, just so he can peel it away layer by layer. He's also got a thing for vintage lingerie. Stuff from older designer collections that's almost impossible to find. The thrill of tracking down a new piece is half the fun.
"My gorgeous girl, you look so good. Just stand still and let me admire you."
Yandere! Werewolf really loves the way you look in your cheerleader uniform. Short skirt, pigtails, so fucking cute he could just gobble you up. And he adores it when you wear his football jersey - his scent is all over it and it drives him crazy knowing it's rubbing off on you. In his dreams, you're usually wearing his jersey and nothing else.
"I'm panting because of training, not because of how good you look, I swear."
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simpjaes · 2 days ago
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Thoughts on jealous Jay? Like is he gonna give silent treatment and then fuck you senseless or talk it out calmy and be a cutie and sulk like a baby till you give him attention and needs alot of affirmation (ITS A HORRIBLE ASK I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT OKAY IM SO SORRY)
Oh.....oh. what if...both?
WARNING: could be considered dub con to some people, be aware of that. not proof read.
Three days.
It's been three whole days since your boyfriend last spoke to you, and your mind has been running in all sorts of directions to determine why. Three days, that's how long it took you to get it. That's how long it took you to wonder if Jay is planning to break up with you over it.
Over Sunghoon, and the way he called you mid-sex with Jay all those nights ago. He was just asking if you took notes during the last class since he skipped, that's all. You didn't even answer the call, but it's the fact that Jay glanced over at your ringing phone and saw his motherfucking name.
It was eleven at night. Why did he have any reason to call you so late? "Jay..." You make the same attempt you have been making each day, every hour, as much as you can to try and get him to respond to you.
And it's the fact that he still shows up every day like usual, like he's not mad at you. Yet, he leaves every night without a work towards you, not a goodnight kiss, not a hug, not even a "sleep well." "Are you going to break up with me?" You meekly add, noting how he doesn't even glance in your direction and, instead, sits on your couch as if you're the one invading his space. For the first time in three days, she shoots his eyes to you, narrowing them. Finally, some emotion. Yet, still...no words. No reassurance. Nothing to make you feel better, or to indicate that Sunghoon is the reason, or that he's not breaking up with you. Instead, you find yourself backing away from him as he storms up at you. Back, back, back until you're hitting the kitchen counter and unable to escape from him. He says nothing, he doesn't even kiss you, and instead you feel his hands pulling your shorts down too fast to argue. Then, you're being flipped around, further proof that he can't even stand to look at you right now. And, so, you let him. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants if it means he will finally go back to normal. You're thankful he does too. Though it hurts knowing it took him plunging into you from behind, pressing your face into the cold counter to actually open up about why he's upset. He had to treat you like you mean nothing in order to remember you matter, much, much more to him than either of you can imagine. And now, as you sit somewhat numb against his chest, he whispers the warmth back to you. Apologetic, guilty for having let his jealousy get the best of him. "Baby, I-" He pauses, knowing there's nothing he can do to erase the fact that he just fucked you without any care or gentleness. "I had it my head that you...were going t-" "It's Sunghoon, isnt it?" You blurt, looking at your boyfriend and the way he pouts and relishes in his own guilt. There's a small nod from here, a shameful one. "You ignored me for three days over Sunghoon?" Another shameful nod, proving to you just how insecure your boyfriend is and how much he probably needs you to reassure him that there's no one like him in your life.
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whatifitis · 2 days ago
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♡ Only Us - LN 4 ♡
Summary: Lando does a little fuck up and you're stubborn but you love him anyway. Feat. Max F being annoyed with a lack of dining utensils in an airbnb
Author's Note: this was based off this request! sorry for taking so long to write something. I hope this lives up to the request <3
WC: 1633
CW: Lando being a little shit, fluff, max f cussing
“I can’t believe this expensive air bnb doesn’t have utensils.” Max says, feeling a bit frustrated as you’d all gone shopping earlier for some groceries for your time in the air bnb. However, none of you thought to get some silverware as well, “it’s an air bnb, not a fucking hotel. There should be silverware in here. For fucks sake. We’re gonna have to eat with our hands like barbarians.”
“Max, relax. We can just get some pizza or something. No need for utensils.” Pietra says, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. You were starving so you hope a consensus can be made quickly. You hadn’t eaten all day due to having to rush from one place to another and somehow, every place that you had passed and that served food had a long wait. 
You and Lando watched the scene unfold from the couch as Max tried to argue that utensils will be needed at some point and you can’t just eat pizza the whole trip. After some debates, Max clapped his hands together, “All right. We’re getting chinese because we can ask for utensils and use them for most of the trip.” 
Everyone seemed pleased with Max’s idea and so you all gathered around to list everything that was needed before someone made the call and actually placed the order. 
In true Lando fashion, the man ordered nearly 40 spring rolls… that’s your man…
The whole group gathered in the living area and played some card games while everyone waited for the food to arrive. There was a lot of betting and wins and losses. Lando somehow was the only one to be down to his underwear after losing quite a few rounds of poker. Only Lando would find himself in that predicament. 
“If the food doesn’t arrive soon, I’m gonna call and ask where the fuck it is. It’s been ages. Where the fuck is it? The guy is probably having a fat shit and the foods getting fucking cold.”
“Max, it’s been 30 minutes and it was a pretty big order. It will be fine, just sit down and have some crisps.”
“No, P I’ve got the shakes look.” Max says whilst purposefully shaking his hands in an exaggerated manner, to which Pietra rolled her eyes. 
After some time, the doorbell rang and Max just about ran to the door, tripping over the leg of a chair in the process. Once Max is back with the bags of food, he places them on the table and begins to unpack them. As he unpacks everything, his eyebrows begin to furrow with each item he takes out, “No, no, no ,no! No fucking way.”
“Mate, what’s going on?” Lando walked behind Max. 
“There’s no utensils! They forgot the fucking utensils. Oh my fuck.” Max says in defeat, throwing his hands in the air and plopping onto the seat behind him. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. You feel bad for the man, but the scene was just too funny. 
“Yeah, keep laughing as you eat your fried rice with your bare hands. I hope your fucking rice is cold as well, fucks sake.” Max threatens. The man may be small, but when he’s upset, he doesn’t hold back with the threats. 
“Max, it’s okay. We can just make some makeshift utensils.” you offer. 
“Now how are we gonna do that, Y/n.”
“Simple. Someone can use this pen, we can roll this piece of paper into a cone and someone can shovel food into their mouth-”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous… Let’s do it before I rip someone's head off.”
So now the scene is painted, everyone is sitting around the coffee table and chowing on their food with the strangest objects. Pietra was using two makeup brushes as some makeshift chopsticks whilst Max opted to use the cone shaped paper, literally shoveling food into his mouth. Lando had decided to use a pen to try and shove food into his mouth and you ended up using a lens that popped out of your glasses when Lando sat on them earlier. 
When it happened, you wanted to be upset with Lando because they were your favorite glasses and they were the only ones you had brought on this trip. But Lando quickly apologized and immediately bought you a new pair. You also couldn’t be mad because once Lando saw how upset you were, he’d said “Just because my ass is fat, doesn't mean my feelings are tough.”
“I’m so hungry, I was about to go mental.” you said as you had taken your first few bites. 
“Same.” Max said, causing you all to side eye him, “what?”
“Babe, you were already going mental.” Pietra had told him. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was calm, cool, and collected.”
After everyone openly judged Max, you all carried on eating and talking. Lando decided it was a good idea to play around and when he did, he was bumping into you. You were still eating so you asked him to calm down so you could finish eating but he didn’t. He ended up knocking your lens out of your hand and it got thrown across the room, shattering onto the floor. 
You just simply sat and stared at the shattered lens. You guys were limited on things you could use to eat so now all you could do was eat with your hands. But now you were too pissed off to eat. You’d lost your appetite. You simply stood up, threw your plate out and went to bed. 
Lando followed after you and you quickly glanced at him before turning your back to him. He looked truly regretful of his actions, “Baby, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you. You hadn’t eaten all day and I fully messed up. You can use the pen I was using. You didn’t eat much.” 
“Not now, Lan. I’m tired and I don’t wanna yell at you.”
He understood his faults and didn’t want to make everything worse. He knew you needed the space so that night, he didn’t come to bed. He decided it was probably best to spend the night on the couch and let you have the bed to yourself. 
You tossed and turned all night, missing Lando’s warm body being next to yours. He did make you upset today but it didn’t mean you wanted him to sleep on the couch. But you were too stubborn so he spent the whole night on the couch. 
In the morning, everyone was set to wake up and get ready to ski and snowboard. You decided to sleep a little longer due to the fact that you slept so little during the night. But your sleep was cut even shorter when you were startled awake from the slamming of a door. Lando had accidentally hit the bedroom door so hard, it slammed into the wall. 
As soon as Lando had realized his mistake, he, once again, looked at you apologetically and mouthed the words ‘i’m so sorry’ but you were already pissed off yet again. You decided to just get up and get ready for the day, not paying much mind to Lando as you didn’t want to explode at him. 
The whole day, you spent time with the girls and just tried to enjoy your day. When it was starting to get dark, the whole group agreed to meet at the bottom of the hill near the cafes. You made your way down on your snowboard and when you spotted Lando standing alone at the bottom, you decided to have a little payback. 
Once you were close enough, you turned your snowboard to stop and spray Lando with snow. 
“I deserved that.” Lando had said as he tried to brush off some snow.
“You did.” was all you said before you made your way to the rest of the group. 
Once everyone was back in the cabin, you all started shedding your layers and began to unwind. You were walking around the house, just tidying a bit out of boredom when you stumbled upon some mistletoe that was hanging in one of the doorways. “You know we need to kiss now because that's the rule.” you heard Lando say from behind you. He had his classic smirk plastered on his face. 
You decided to give him a quick peck, resulting in him being smiley and thinking everything was okay now. 
“Nope. Still mad.” you said as you turned to walk away. But before you could walk away, Lando had wrapped himself around you. 
“No! I’m not letting you go til you love me again.”
“Lan, let me go.”
“No”
“Lan”
“Nope”
This continued as you tried to wrestle him off but he kept his hold on you and he ended up climbing onto your back but you weren’t prepared so the two of you fell into a mess of intertwined limbs and laughter. 
After the two of you caught your breath, Lando asked “Are we okay?” with a serious look on his face. You knew he could be insecure at times in the relationship, even after little arguments and disagreements. 
“Yes, baby. We’re okay. I was just tired, I’m sorry for making you think otherwise.” 
“‘S okay. I know I kinda fucked up.”
“Yeah. But no matter the fight, I will still love you and want you. What we’ve got going is good.” you move your hand to gently tap his temple, “We can try to quiet the noises in your head.”
He lets out a soft laugh, “I never thought there’d be someone like you who could want me. But here you are. It’s you and me and that’s all that I need it to be.”
“Only us.”
“Only us.”
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nottswitch · 3 days ago
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— if you’ve been naughty, you get…
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──────────── 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.─
summary: they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.
pairing: theo nott x reader
cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise, cursing, italian pet names
wc: 2.1k
a/n: getting back to kinkmas at last !! enjoy some etl theodore filth babes <3
» navigation ; masterlist ; theo m.list ; kinkmas 2024
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You had absolutely no idea how you ended up at the same party as the guy whose entire goal in life was to make yours as difficult as possible. To be entirely honest, you weren’t any better – your taunting seemed to mirror his in its viciousness, for no apparent reason on both sides. Somewhere, at one point, everything went to shit with you two. At first, it used to cause tensions in the friend group, because you just couldn’t stop constantly bickering and throwing all kinds of insults at each other, but over time, your inexplicable apprehension towards each other became a constant – a very annoying one, but a constant nonetheless.
Pansy promised. She promised that the New Year’s Eve party would stay Theodore Nott-free, he had some prior commitment, blah-blah-blah – irrelevant. Because right now, you were looking straight at his infuriating face as he was pressing you against the wall, his deep ocean eyes you couldn’t admit to finding captivating staring into yours. The sounds of the party were muffled, the beat of the music dully thumping through the narrow corridor, sending faint vibrations through the floor.
“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” you hissed, crossing your arms on your chest in a manner that you hoped would come off as defiant, even though you knew it was a defense – same thing, different flavor.
Theo smirked – the smirk that always made your blood boil, a sign that he was enjoying himself way more than he should have.
“How could I ever leave you alone, tesoro?” he drawled, his voice mocking yet carrying a hint of intensity that you had never heard there before. Then again, with him, you could’ve easily just imagined it. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you can’t stay away from me either. And I wouldn’t be that far off, no?”
You huffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness – it was in no way a surprise, yet it still made your irritation rise to the very top, bubbling up and threatening to escape in the form of another quip.
“Get your head out of your ass, Nott,” you muttered, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“Nott?” Theo taunted in response, leaning in just a bit closer – and that tiny little bit made your heart skip a beat, which you found to be a completely uncalled-for reaction. “Last time I checked, I was ‘Theo, please, faster!’.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
You hated the way your cheeks instantly flushed at his reminder – you did not need to remember that night when your entire composure crumbled to pieces, and you ended up in his bed, screaming his name so loud the walls were nearly shaking.
And you felt like you were on the brink of doing it again.
“If you insist,” Theo murmured, his lips now at your ear, nearly brushing against your skin – the bastard knew exactly how to get to you, unfortunately. You gritted your teeth, trying to resist for a fleeting moment, but when his hand slipped onto your waist, you gave up – and in.
“I hate you,” you whispered, roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a heated kiss. Theo didn’t even gasp, which made a nasty thought spark up in your mind – he’d been waiting for this all along, and it probably wouldn’t be too far-fetched to guess that it was the only reason he came to the party in the first place. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, a stark mirror to the contradictory feelings you both shared – biting, rough around the edges, yet at the core of it there was passion that neither of you could bother to deny.
In a matter of seconds, both of Theo’s hands were on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hands flew up to his shoulders, breaking the self-imposed physical barrier of your arms across your chest and also symbolizing the last bits of your composure withering away. Theo knew – he had to have known – that this would happen, because his palm was at the ready, closing around your breast as soon as it was free to touch. He kneaded the softness of your flesh, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his hips started slowly but firmly rocking against you. You felt his hard, already throbbing cock pressing into your clothed pussy, and once again, you were somewhat amused by his ability to get hard in seconds.
“Been like this all night, bambina,” Theo murmured into your mouth, as if hearing your thoughts out loud. So, not in seconds. “The moment I saw you in this dress… Fuck.”
His other hand gripped the hem of your sparkly red dress, lifting it up just enough for it to bunch up at your waist. His eyes flicked down for a moment, a needy growl escaping his mouth as he took in the sight of your fishnets doing a very poor job at covering up the red lace of your panties.
“Wore these for me?” he asked teasingly, although his hoarse voice completely betrayed the fact that he was insanely aroused. His fingers traced the edge of the lace with an almost reverent touch before hooking through the hole of your fishnets and suddenly tearing them apart.
Your eyes widened, not quite expecting the roughness, but you knew you should have – Theo wasn’t known to be a patient man when it came to getting what he carnally desired, and at the moment, the object of that desire was you.
“What the–” you started, but he quickly shut you up with a kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and swirling around, effectively making you moan. The sound only got louder as you felt his fingers sliding over your panties, savoring the wetness that started to seep through the fabric; he wasn’t the only one with a one track mind since the start of the party – the sight of him in his dark green dress shirt, three buttons at the top undone, caught your eye as soon as he stepped into the room.
“Such a wet little pussy for me, huh?” he whispered breathlessly into your mouth, rubbing a circle over your clothed core before easily slipping underneath – the feeling of your soft, drenched skin made him groan, perfectly matching your own sounds. “Wish I could keep you like this all the time… So fucking pliant…”
And shit, you wouldn’t be able to deny his words even if you tried – you were pliant under his touch, you did turn into melted butter as soon as his index and middle finger slipped inside you, you did clench your thighs around his waist as he started pumping in and out. He was just as pliant, though – you could tell by the way his cock was poking into your inner thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers. If you had half a mind to look down, you would see a wet spot forming at the front, clear evidence of the fact that he wanted you with the same ever-consuming intensity.
You grew a bit bolder, the pleasure making your brain turn off and forget all about your surroundings or the consequences of your encounter. Your hand traveled down, grabbing Theo’s cock and giving it a firm squeeze, as if to remind him that he was as crazy about you as you were about him. A groan fanned against your ear at the small yet impactful action – a satisfying sound of Theo’s need. His fingers curled inside you before sliding out with a wet pop. The next moment, your juices were being spread all over your lips, mixing with your gloss and creating a strange, sticky texture of sweetness mixed with the tartness of your natural slick. You parted your mouth, letting Theo’s fingers in, your lips wrapping around them and starting to suck, lightly, teasingly, as your hand continued palming his cock.
“Playing with the damn fire, tesoro,” Theo warned in a hiss, taking your hand off of him impatiently. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
In response, you only started sucking more, your head moving back and forth on his fingers. Theo’s eyes were fixed intently on your lips, no doubt imagining them wrapped around something else. He hastily unzipped his trousers with his free hand, pulling them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers. His erection sprung free, slapping against his shirt-covered stomach. You glanced down, feeling even more turned on as you drank in the sight of his swollen, throbbing cock, knowing that it would be splitting you open very very soon.
And it did. Oh, gods, it did. With a single thrust, Theo entered, his tip immediately reaching your cervix. You moaned around his fingers, your eyes rolling back at the mixture of pain and pleasure – the feelings he could easily elicit in you, both physically and emotionally.
He wasn’t holding back, not in the slightest – his pace was rough and unrelenting, fucking all his frustrations of the last year into you. Your back was moving up and down against the wall, the heated surface scratching your skin, your high heels digging into the small of his back each time he pounded. He didn’t mind the sting, though, just like you didn’t mind the dull ache of his hand digging into your hip, without a doubt leaving marks. Finally, his fingers left your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another sloppy mess that could be called a kiss.
The combined sounds of your moans almost drowned out the chatter of the party, but still, you could faintly hear the crowd starting to chant the countdown to the New Year. You pulled away, ignoring Theo’s disappointed whine for a second, trying to hold back on your own noises as you listened.
“The count– The countdown,” you shakily breathed out, meeting Theo’s glossed-over eyes with your misty gaze. He groaned and shook his head, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to stop, not until you were both panting and sweating.
“Who gives a fuck?” he asked in the same breathless voice as yours, his cock somehow reaching even deeper spots, as if trying to coax any stray thoughts out of your head. “What, scared you’re not getting a New Year’s kiss?”
His ability to tease you even as he was balls deep inside of you made you want to slap him, hard. You almost did it, if only you had the strength to move your limbs.
“Yeah, wanted to make a wish,” you tried to retort, your words sounding less convincing than you’d like them to be. “To never see your stupid face again.”
“Oh really? And here I was, about to wish for your charming self every day.”
You would have rolled your eyes at his usual mocking, but they ended up rolling for a completely different reason as Theo pounded into you with an especially rough thrust at the ‘three’ sounding from the main party room.
At the ‘two’, one of his hands was on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh. His eyes were fixed on yours again, the intensity from before making you question if there was any truth behind his words.
At the ‘one’, your lips were crashing together once again as the orgasm washed over the both of you, accompanied by the fireworks blowing up outside. Red bursts of light coming from the window on the other side of the corridor cast your flickering shadows onto the wall, the beautiful sight in the sky barely registering in your fucked out mind. The only thing you could feel at the moment was the warmth of Theo’s cum slowly starting to trickle down your thighs, staining Theo’s pants in the process.
“You know,” he murmured, hoarse and panting, his dampened forehead resting against yours, “you make really nice sounds when I’m fucking you brainless, tesoro. I’ll make sure they’re the only ones you’re making with me all year long.”
You breathed out a small chuckle, closing your eyes as you started to come down from the high you were both still stuck on.
“Is that a threat or a promise, Theo?”
“Both, baby. Both.”
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jakeswifeyyy · 3 days ago
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sunghoon fucking you after going to the gym
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Warnings:Unprotected sex,degrading,tit slapping,nipple play,use of pet names(baby,doll,darling) ,inplied big dick sunghoon,daddy kink andd I think that's all :)
MDNI!
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Okay hear me out anon.
Like roommates with benefits sunghoon whom comes from the gym after a heavy workout for 3 hours straight ,clad in an oversized sleevless black shirt showing his big ass muscles(lowkey drooling at the image 🤤).
The whole roommates with benefits agenda started because of the oh so obvious built up sexual tension between you two,lingering touches,undressing each other with your eyes but that was a story for another day as he walked in from the gym,headphones on,gym bag on his shoulder with his joggers which were more of an excuse which blessed your eyes,him,the Greek God himself, sweating trickling down his face,smirked seeing you eyeing him so shamelessly.
"You're not so subtle y/n."
Hearing him speak before shutting the door behind him taking off his shoes before dropping his bag near the kitchen before walking towards you who was peering at him over your shoulder,before leaning down so close to you while staring straight ahead before snatching your cup of water from you gulping it down.
"Who said I was trying to be subtle Park."
You taunted him before scoffing turning back to face the long forgotten show playing on the TV.
"You just have a hot body I sometimes forget my manners."
He raised his eyebrow cocking his head to the side before smirking while eyeing your side profile as you watched the TV or more appropriately tried to watch the TV.You were getting more bold with your words and he wasn't complaining ,he liked having competition either way.
"If you find it so hot why don't you do something about it." You nearly jumped hearing him suddenly speak right next to your ear,breath tickling your earlobe before he slightly nibbled on it.
"Ew go take a shower atleast." He chuckled at your words before pulling you up to seat you on the armrest of the couch before trapping you in his arms which were on your sides on the couch.
"Why should I when you like seeing me like this hm?Tell me doll,tell me you don't like the image of me on top of you pounding into this pretty cunt darling."
He moved his face closer as you moved yours backwards,yeah you were normally dominant with all guys you slept with but something about sunghoon ever since you moved in,his aura was just different ,very different for the usual submissive virgin boys you went for,he wasn't your type at all but even so the tension kept growing between you two day by day,you always teased him when he wanted to have his way with you,even though he eventually did but teasing him was fun while it lasted.
He smirked when you moved away,"Why so quiet now doll."
You chuckled wrapping your arms around his neck,pulling him closer as he slightly stumbled causing you to fall back wards onto the couch as he fell on top of you holding himself up with one arm,he tsked poking his inner cheek with his tongue before scoffing.
"Thought I already taught you a lesson on who's incharge here guess you still don't wanna learn huh."
He didn't give you a chance to respond before crashing his lips on yours as you puked him closer with your arms around his neck,equally roughly kissing him back as your teeth clashed ,biting on his lower lip as he let out a groan before shoving his tongue into your mouth as he licked into your warn cavern ,obscenely moaning into his kiss,he was rough ,again contrasting your expectations, you were usually the one initiating the roughness,but is seems you meeting him wasn't part of the expectations either,everything about him was just...different.
After a couple minutes making out he pulled away,"Since you wanna be in control so much,ride me slut." You wouldn't deny that something about him degrading you had you on chokehold as you nodded before he pulled back completely and sat up,his sweaty self cooled off due to the high blast of the AC in the living room.
Quickly climbing onto his lap as his arms stretched on the couch behind you,you took of your cropped shirt which you hadn't worn anything under and he smirked biting his lower lip before grabbing one tit,squeezing it as your nipples hardened more due to the cold air in the room before you whimpered as he slapped your sensitive nipple.
"That's my good girl,always knowing what daddy wants isn't it?"
Letting out a choked moan you reply with a yes as you tugged on his shirt telling him to take it off ,as he did you run your hands down his abs down to his exposed valine before tracing them back up ,brushing over his nipples as his breath hitched before he held you by your wrist.
"Cut to the chase baby no foreplay for you today I'm too impatient."
Nodding you stand on your knees taking your booty shorts off leaving you bare as you lowered his joggers together with his boxers to his knees before wrapping your arm around his cock which stood between the both of ,angry fat red tip leaking with precum,as you pu.ped him a few times before lining it up with your entrance,slowly sliding down as you moaned vocally,his palm cupping your ass cheeks spreading them apart as he squeezed at the flesh,after completely taking him in you shuddered ,stabilising yourself on his shoulders,adjusting to his size which was always big to you.
"What're you waiting for slut,ride it or I'll punish you." Nodding quirky knowing he wouldn't let you come if you didn't before you started bouncing up and down on his length murmuring fucks as he pulled you closer,hand going to your tits pushing then together as he licked at your now held together nipples as you moaned rocking yourself faster in between bouncing ,alternating as he liked it that way,his hand snaking down to rub your clit in fast circles as he held your tits with one hand,licking all over messily ,drool pouring everywhere,the slurping sounds enough to make you feel your climax approaching.
"Hoon p-please ...w-wanna cum ngh."
He kissed your neck all over essentially sucking on some spots to hear your beautiful noises,"Cum for me baby,coat my cock baby." He soothed into your hear as your moans increasingly got louder before feeling your high crash down on you,thighs on fire from all the bouncing,as he lifted you off of him your cunt clenching around his length along the way was enough to make him cum right there,throwing his head back as he pumped his fist around his cock slowly riding out his high before he smirked at you,laughing at your fucked out state before picking you up bridal style heading to the bathroom.
"Guess we both need a shower now baby,"
You scoffed at him,"I know you want round2,"
He laughed again,"I'll do all the work this time, promise baby"
"Park Sunghoom I will kill you,"
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A/n:Tysm for 86 followers guys in less than a month ly all ❤️,and also sorry to the anon for delaying this a bit I have a lot of projects this time 😓
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theostrophywife · 3 days ago
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Overstimulation w Theo or Mattheo soon pls??
— play with fire.
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NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.
song inspiration: play with fire by sam tinnesz.
author’s note: happy new year my darlings! please accept my little gift to you in the form of jealous! mattheo.
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anger.
it was such a volatile thing — even the smallest spark could light a fire. too little and it barely kept you warm. too big and it consumed everything it touched. the secret, as it was for all things, was about finding balance.
you thought you were doing a rather fine job of teetering that fine line as mattheo stalked you from across the room. there was something sickeningly sweet about watching the flames burn in your enemy's eyes, the hatred and loathing reserved only for you simmering in his gaze as you perched yourself on his best mate's lap.
"you're playing with fire, y/n." theo stated with an amused smirk.
"maybe," you agreed, purposely ignoring mattheo's pointed glare. there was anger burning within him, that much was clear, but underneath all that hatred was something darker, something more dangerous. desire. "but i'm a gryffindor. I can handle a little heat."
you had no idea how much you'd come to regret that later.
"how many times do I have to teach you this lesson, hm?" mattheo growled as he backed you against the wall. his fist wrapped around your throat, squeezing the breath out of your lungs while you looked up at him.
"as many times as it takes for it to stick," you responded with a cheeky smirk.
mattheo's gaze darkened. "you'll fucking regret that, princess."
without warning, mattheo picked you up and deposited you on the bed. you blinked, tracking his movements in the dark as he shed his clothes. "this is theo's bed," you noted.
"isn't this where you hoped you'd end up tonight after crawling into my best mate's lap like the little slut that you are?" mattheo spat as he hovered at the edge of the bed, his fingers curling around your ankles before he yanked you towards him.
"it was just a bit of fun," you said sweetly. "don't tell me you're jealous, riddle."
"me? jealous of nott?" mattheo sneered. "don't make me fucking laugh, y/n."
"why wouldn't you be?" you mused, cocking your head at the furious man above you. "i've heard the rumors, you know. the girls in this school are terrible gossips and word in the castle is that theo has a big dick. I wouldn't mind taking him for a ride —"
you gagged as mattheo shoved his fingers in your mouth, effectively shutting you up. "the only one you'll be riding tonight is me." tears welled up in your eyes, but you couldn't deny the heat zipping through your veins like molten gold. you loved it when mattheo was like this — possessive and territorial and utterly unhinged. "now take your fucking clothes off and sit on my cock like the good little slut that I know you are."
twenty minutes later, you were on the verge of tears as you bounced on mattheo's lap, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked up into you. his fingers left bruises on your hips from how rough and brutal the angry sex was, but still you savored every second of it.
"that's right," mattheo said meanly as he squeezed your tits. "you're all bark and no bite, hm? crying on my cock while I split you apart. it's fucking pathetic, princess."
your pussy squeezed at the demeaning words, the head rush making you feel dizzy as your release came closer and closer. "I can feel you squeezing me. this is what you wanted all along, isn't it? you play your little games to make me angry so that you'll end up screaming underneath me."
"n—no—"
"don't lie to me, princess. you love it when I fuck you like I hate you." you moaned as mattheo thrusted upwards, making you see stars. "you're such a fucking brat, but don't worry. i'll fuck that attitude right out of you."
you keened as his long, slender finger circled your puffy clit, urging you towards the edge of the cliff of your release. a cry bubbled up in your throat as mattheo made you cum, his groans and curses sounding garbled as your eyes rolled and your toes curled.
before you could come down from the high, mattheo flipped you onto your back and draped your legs over his shoulders. your vision was spotty, static making your brain fuzzy as he slid inside of you again, thrusting in and out of your sensitive walls. mattheo grabbed your chin and forced you to look down, directing your attention to where your bodies met. his hard cock slid all the way out, coated with your release.
"see that? you talk up such a big game, but at the end of the night this is what it all comes down to." mattheo said, teasing his tip in and out of your sensitive pussy. "watch, princess. watch this greedy pussy take my cock."
"mattheo," you whined, pushing his hips back. "i'm so sensitive, please..."
"too fucking bad," he responded as he pinned your wrists above your head. "you should've thought of that before making me fucking angry."
all thoughts were wiped clean from your mind as mattheo set a punishing pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the dungeons as you moaned and screamed his name. as much as you hated him, you couldn't deny the fact that he knew your body better than you knew it yourself, because it was only a matter of minutes before you were cumming again, tears streaming down your cheeks from the overstimulation.
mattheo yanked your legs apart and licked your pussy, slurping and gulping down your juices while you thrashed underneath him. when you tried to squirm away from him, he held your hips down and circled your clit with his tongue, making out with your pussy desperately like he wanted to devour you whole. you keened, half delirious from the pleasure of it all.
"s'too much I need a break — please, I need —"
mattheo chuckled darkly, your cum dripping down his handsome face. he curled his delicious fingers inside of you, touching that spongy spot that seized your body from head to toe.
"aw, baby, I don't give a fuck what you need. you'll take what I give you. over and over again. until you get it through that pretty head of yours who you really belong to."
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captainadwen · 19 hours ago
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"Okay," said Steph, pulling her cowl off and sprawling back on the debrief room couches. "Who bet for 'interdimensional beings'?"
"I said aliens," said Dick, through the comms. He was back in his Bludhaven apartment and, by the sound of it, burning pancakes at 3 am. "I think I ought to get at least some of the pool - "
"Perfect guess or bust," retorted Steph and Tim simultaneously.
"There's a death portal," said Jason, his voice crackling over the comms. "I get brownie points."
"Before or after you failed at asking Jazz Fenton out for the third time?" Steph shot back.
Jason scoffed. "Like you had any more luck? At least I got the fucking words out."
"I was working myself up to it!"
"We'd all be in the geriatric ward by the time you accomplished anything," said Damian.
Steph flopped her hand at him. "Shut up, puppy crush."
Damian scowled at her. His hair was sticking up hilariously, so Tim discretely angled a camera at him to snap a picture. Bruce caught him, but was a mark of the many screaming fights and occasional crying sessions this family had that Bruce only twitched at this rather than retreating to the rafters to brood over his many kids whilst they pretended to not have stabbed each other, repeatedly, in places that hurt. Tim sipped his coffee and turned back to monitoring the multiple cameras they had set up.
The one outside Danny and Jazz's room crackled with erratic static. It was actually an infirmary, in Leslie's clinic, because that was as close to medical care as a Danny's paranoid snarling had allowed them to provide for Jazz, who kept alarmingly sinking through solid objects and passing out and twitching from electrical burns. It said something that Danny's glowing green eyes and sharp canines did not make him less attractive, but Tim was nothing if not a champion of assessing his own mental state and moving the fuck on. After growing up surrounded by aliens and demigods and ghosts, a little inhuman snarl putting him off would be insulting to his friends and various previous paramours at this point.
Which meant: "I win," said Tim. "I did put down 'another dimension'."
"The fuck you did," said Steph, finally pulling out her phone to find the betting pool.
Tim swiveled his chair around dramatically to find his entire family scowling at him. He crossed one leg over the other and lounged back. "My evidence: their knowledge of history and pop culture is inconsistent, occasionally wrong, and if you trace the camera static that follows them long enough you find their early attempts at learning more about our dimension through library visits and setting up their false identities." How exactly that had been accomplished was still to be determined. Tim's bet was 'mind control' or 'magic' or 'both'. 'Both' was usually a fair guess.
"That fits for savvy aliens too," protested Dick, followed by the sound of his fire alarm turning on.
Duke lifted his head from a pillow to mute Dick's comms. Then he put it back down, huffed, and said, "Now that we aren't in crisis mode, I also win because they are, in fact, meta humans."
"No they aren't," said Jason. "Have you all forgotten the interdimensional death portal? It's right there. If they have the meta gene and aren't some fucked up pit demons I'll pay for the shitting betting pool."
"You're the one who volunteered to watch it," said Steph, throwing her phone down the couch, which meant she did not want to announce her loss. "Cass, just muffle him if he's going to freak out over the interdimensional death portal."
"I think he should get a pass for that one," said Duke. "I think we should all freak out over the interdimensional death portal."
"We are," Steph assured him. "In like, one business day."
Bruce let out a disapproving grunt.
"Don't take that tone with me," said Steph. "We were all understandably panicked about Jazz nearly dying and turning purple - "
"I thought she looked more blue, actually," said Tim.
"- and Danny pulling out the usual glowing green eyes of doom and anger and Jason having a freak out over a pit portal - "
"Fuck you," said Jason.
"So B, you can handle the usual logistics freak out, and I am going to just be happy we managed to get them medical attention for now and Jazz is not actively dying anymore."
"Already dead," said Cass, quietly, over the comms. "Danny too."
"That's a two business day's from now type problem," said Steph, but her expression was as grim as the rest of them.
"Is it though?"
"We have programs for this," said Bruce, broodingly.
"We know, B."
"They did not need to make a hole in the fabric of reality," continued Bruce, even more broodingly.
"B, all your wellfare programs and 'beings stuck on Earth get home' initiatives with the JL don't mean shit if people who need them don't know about it."
"They do know about it," said Bruce, downright morose. "It's always filled with prank calls."
Damian perched besides his father and tentatively patted his back. Tim snapped another picture and sent it to the Young Justice group chat captioned 'murder gremlin attempts to comfort progenitor, exhibit D'.
"Maybe they did send in an application," said Barbara over the comms. Her voice was filled with extreme exhaustion; like Tim she was pushing twenty-six hours of being awake. She was just worse at hiding it than he was because she did not drink her bodyweight in caffeine. "Maybe it just got mistaken for a prank."
"Or lost in the queue," said Tim. At any given moment on Earth there were at least three wayward aliens, one time traveler, and two beings from not quite this dimension looking to go home. The aliens were usually the easiest of the lot to fix, the time travelers were a hit or miss depending on whether their version of this reality still existed, and the interdimensional beings were often a JLD problem.
Which meant --
"'The ripples of dimensional weakness have been felt and must be investigated'," said Bruce, obviously quoting someone and hating every word. Steph started muttering under her breath 'please be Zatanna, please be Zatanna, please be Zatanna - '
"Constantine is coming," declared Bruce, with all the drama he denied possessing.
Everyone groaned.
Jason said, "He is not coming into Crime Alley."
Danny: Ugh, they're back again
Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?
Danny rolling his eyes: Yes
Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.
Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!
Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.
Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*
Meanwhile with the Waynes
Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all
Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?
Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*
Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?
Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?
Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.
Alfred: Very good, sir.
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oceantornadoo · 3 days ago
Text
happy new years! starting 2025 by finishing this fic :)
ch9 the wrong john | masterlist
john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin
-
“You dropped my hand.”
“Ye lied t’ me.”
You both frown with the same half-slant.
The doctor later found Johnny had some Vitamin D deficiency from his captivity, so you’ve been allowed to wheel him around the hospital garden for strictly one hour, IV still attached. You find a bench to sit on, parking his chair next to you so you can both stare at the ducks in the pond. 
“I didn’t mean to lie to you, Johnny. I just- didn’t think it would get this serious.” He snorts. After all these years, he can still tell when you’re lying. One duck is chasing the other around the pond, wings flapping as they play fight.
“So yer only apologizin’ cuz I found out? Not a good start, hen.” You drag your hands down your face, pressing your palms into your eye sockets until your vision goes black. “We hooked up the night before I came to base. And I thought, big whoop, maybe I’ll tell Johnny so he’ll get off my back about being single, except the guy didn’t even leave a note, so I just look desperate. And then you opened that door and he was your fucking captain! My game plan got fucked.”
You release your hands so you can see again. The ducks are cuddling at the edge of the pond. You sneak a look at Johnny and he’s staring straight ahead, unseeing. “Ye said it was me an’ you. That’s what ye said.” You let out a bitter laugh at his words. “I thought that’s what it would be. I told him at lunch that it wouldn’t work, that I couldn’t do that to you. So at that point, it was just me and you. But then I left and he started calling and he’s just terribly sweet and cocky and I hate it. And then you were gone.”
It’s the first time he’s looked at you since. It’s just a turn of the head, but his eyes are duller than usual and wet with emotion. “Wasn’t my choice, hen.” You give him a watery smile. “I know. This wasn’t my choice either. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m not sorry that it’s him.” You reach over to squeeze his hand and he lets you, but he doesn’t squeeze back. “Price can be a persuasive bastard when he wants to be.” The same laugh escapes both of you. The ducks are swimming side by side now, circling the pond.
“Still don’t get why ye didn’t tell me.” It’s the bit you’ve been circling around for a while now. You don’t answer for a second, choosing to pick at a hangnail on your thumb. Johnny’s hand covers yours, stopping your bad habit. “I didn’t want to ruin this for you. I thought What will happen to Johnny if we break up? I couldn’t ruin your new family, not after everything that happened with ours.” He squeezes your hand and you try to ignore the bandages around his wrists. “Yer my family too, m'eudail. The first of the one I choose.” 
A singular tear escapes your eyes, trailing down your face until it plops onto your lap. You turn your hand so it links with his, squeezing back. “Even though you have Simon?” Instead of answering your question, he asks one back. “Even though ye’ve got Price?” Fair enough. You lean your head on his shoulder and he dips to kiss your forehead. “Of course.” You’re not sure who says it, but it doesn’t really matter. 
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Johnny.” He leans his head against yours. “What’s a sister fer?” You roll your eyes, glad to have your brother back. “Dinnae kiss him in front of me. It’s gross.” You shove him off of you, then get up to wheel him back. “You’re so annoying. Don’t pretend I don’t see you and Simon snogging after he yells at people.” The two MacTavishes bicker all the way back to hospital, ducks long forgotten.
-
When you get back from the hospital, John’s doing paperwork in his office. Alone, thankfully. “Go well, sweetheart?” You nod shyly, taking the chance to explore his office. It’s neat but lacks personal effects. There’s only a few pictures, mainly of him in combat gear with various members of the task force. Except there’s a small frame closer to his actual desk that doesn’t fit the theme. It’s a woman sleeping, face half tucked into the pillow. Her back is bare but the picture’s only shoulder up, sparing any real nudity. The hair looks familiar and as you squint, you realize something. He keeps a picture of you in his office.
“When did you take this?” He barely looks up, tugging you into his lap as he continues writing with his other hand. “Yesterday. You looked pretty.” You press your forehead against his sternum, hands folded in your lap. “That was after I cried and then was covered in your cum.” He grunts, pulling you closer into his lap. “‘xactly. Pretty.” You sigh against him. His body’s so protective, muscled with a slight layer of fat that allows you to nuzzle in further. It’s like he works out everyday but doesn’t turn down dessert. You love it.
“You must like me a lot to deal with all this family drama.” It’s mainly a joke, just something to fill the silence. Instead, he drops his pen, pulling you off him so you’re eye-to-eye. Large paws capture your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks. “Not jus’ like, baby. ‘S a lot more than that.” Your eyes widen. His are serious, moving fast as they track your every facial expression. “Not just like?” He shakes his head. A few months ago, you would have left the conversation there. After your talk with your brother though, you feel courage seep through your veins.
“What is it, then?” His thumb brushes against your lip, pulling the bottom one until he releases it. Like he’s making sure you’re real, giving you time to take it back. “Love. ‘ve known for a while now, that I love you. There’s no pressure, sweetheart, I jus’ wanted you to know.” It’s the kindest out he’s ever given you. Fortunately, you don’t need it.
“I love you too, John. And I’m sorry for insinuating you weren’t enough for me to date. You’re everything.” He captures your lips in a slow kiss. You pour everything into it: the I’m sorry’s and Thank you’s. His hands stay on your jaw like he’s afraid to let you go. You skim down the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps, memorizing the feel. “You make me goddamn crazy, you know that?” You smile against his confession, sinking your hands into his hair. “Ditto.” You pull back from his lips to kiss his cheek, his nose, his forehead. You pepper his face until there’s not an inch unkissed and his cheeks flush red under the full force of your affection. “I love you.” It’s freeing to say, to finally give a name to this feeling. “I love you, sweetheart. Lemme finish this paperwork an’ I’ll take you to bed.” You tuck yourself under his chin and let him work.
John proposes that night and you turn him down. Well, you tell him to give you a year. You don’t know he’s got the date marked in his calendar.
-
Unfortunately, one year falls on the day of Johnny and Simon’s wedding. John might be lovesick, but he’s not dumb enough to propose at a wedding. Especially his future brother-in-law’s. He’s officiating, staring at his sweetheart in the front row as he marries two of his men. They promise to love and cherish each other for eternity, and even John can’t help the tear that falls after they kiss. What can he say, he’s a sentimental bastard.
As expected, the party lasts long into the night. Johnny and Kyle rule the dance floor with Johnny occasionally dragging his twin to join them. John and Simon sip whiskey on the sidelines, content to watch the siblings make absolute fools of themselves. “Who woulda thought?” Simon murmurs, almost to himself. “Me, for one. Knew you’d be gone for ‘im when I introduced ya.” Simon scoffs. “Piss off, Price. Me an’ Kyle had a bet goin’ the moment she walked into that office.” They settle into silence, grinning like idiots at their respective MacTavishes.
Hours later, John’s walking with your hand in his and your heels in the other. The grooms have gone all out since there’s a small amount of wedding attendees, so each party gets their own villa. The alcohol has worn off by now, but you’re still giddy, humming the last song you danced to while John leads you back. “That was so fun.” Your smile is practically permanent now, has been for hours. He loves seeing you happy. “Yeah, baby? You had some interestin’ dance moves.” You shove him, but it doesn’t really work since your hands are tangled together. “Shove off. At least I danced.” The only time he danced was with you, guiding you through a few slow songs before Johnny practically took over the DJ booth. “Y’ were beautiful, sweetheart.” He dips to kiss your forehead and you preen under his praise.
John unlocks the door with the key card, walking in first to hold the door for you and lock it after. You turn on the lights, still bubbly and light. “I loved the flowers they had. Do you think…oh.” When you turn to look for him, he’s on one knee in front of the closed door. This time he has a ring, a beautiful creation in your favorite metal. “Let me marry you, sweetheart.” Your throat chokes up. “You remembered.” You’d been almost joking when you told him to wait a year, but clearly he didn’t see it that way. “‘Course I did. Been countin’ down the days for a while now.” You walk towards him until you can run your hands through the strands of his hair, barely sparing the ring a glance.
“Yes.”
“Yea?”
“Yes, John.”
You collapse onto him in a hug, your arms landing over his shoulders until he’s smothered in you. There’s a few tears of happiness between you, such a difference from the time you were crying on a rooftop, in his arms. Always in his arms. “We’re getting married.” You whisper, still not believing it. “Could elope now if ya want, baby.” You chuckle into the crook of his neck. “John Price, you know I want a proper wedding. You’ve seen my Pinterest.” He plants a kiss to the nape of your neck.
“Whatever you want, Mrs. Price.”
-
wow.
we’re done!!!
thank you all for the support you’ve given my first chaptered fic. it meant so much and helped me overcome my nerves. stay tuned for what’s next! <333
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delilahsturniolo · 3 days ago
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— ୨୧ you experience your first kiss from your best friend chris through an innocent game of seven minutes in heaven.
(warnings . . . kissing, fluff.)
the closet door shut as chris turned the lock, leaving the both of you alone in the dark, empty closet. you and the triplets decided to go to a friend’s house party, but you weren’t really the type to party, you ultimately decided to go anyways. you and chris were invited to play seven minutes in heaven with a few of your friends, you accepted the invitation, not knowing you and chris would’ve been the chosen two to go in the closet.
you stood in the corner of the closet, fidgeting with the gold chain hanging around your neck. chris cleared his throat as the two of you remained quiet, the only sounds were your soft breathing and the muffled music from the party outside the closet. “we don’t have to…y’know, do anything if you don’t want to. we could just wait it out.” chris suggested, noticing how quiet you were. you sighed, sitting down on the closet floor, chris walked over and sat next to you.
“this is stupid.” you remarked, you could feel chris’s eyes on you, even in the dark room. “they chose the both of us on purpose, you know.” you smiled slightly, chris chuckled. “i figured.” he shrugged, checking his phone. six minutes left. if you guys were going to be in here, you had to make something of it. chris sat up against the wall, adjusting his position so that he could get a better look at you. you turned your head to look at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“what’s wrong?” you asked him, your eyes searching his for an answer. “can i ask you something?” chris’s tone was soft as he spoke to you, as if he was hesitant and nervous about something. you nodded, silently signaling for him to continue speaking. “have…have you ever kissed anyone before?” chris asked you, his eyes not leaving yours at all. you were taken aback by the question, you weren’t expecting him to ask that at all.
“um, no..” you answered reluctantly, looking down at your lap. you were afraid he was going to judge you, you hadn’t kissed anyone before. fuck, you’ve never even held hands with a boy before. you weren’t as embarrassed about it though, you just wanted it to happen with the right person. chris nodded in understanding at your answer, you noticed that he slowly inched closer to you, he was now sitting in front of you.
chris checked his phone once more, 4 minutes left. he knew he had to make a move quickly. “can i kiss you?” chris asked, making your heart practically jump out of your chest. your best friend wanted to—kiss you? you lifted your head, locking eyes with his blue and hopeful ones. you let out a sigh as you looked at him. you did find chris attractive, very attractive. you just never told him. and now, you were getting the opportunity to kiss him, you couldn’t turn that down, not at all.
“i would love that.” you expressed, chris’s eyes lit up as he gave you a warm smile. he gently placed one of his hands on your waist, the other hand on the side of your neck. his touch was warm, and comforting. it felt right, it felt like his hands belonged on you. chris slowly cupped your cheek, leaning in closer to you, giving you every chance to stop him, or back out. except you didn’t. he placed his lips on yours, you felt like you were in a whole different universe, the sensation was amazing. chris groaned against your mouth as the kiss was slow and sensual, it was absolutely perfect. chris softly pressed kisses against your neck and collar bone before pulling away completely, getting a good look at your flustered face.
and before you knew it, your time was up.
© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.
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befallenstars-archive · 1 day ago
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Oh, my...I did not read the 15k words part. However, we are here.
Before I yap— Eris, have I ever told you that there's something about the way you write that catches my interest? Can't really put it into words just yet. Maybe if I read more I'll eventually formulate that feeling into words~
Alright, spoilers under the cut! And LOTS of yapping~
Blade
Going for the single bed trope I see...this'll be interesting (¬ ͜ ͡¬)
Okay, but I do find it funny that the reason he wanted to share the bed was for the reader and him to get better rest. Only for the two of them to NOT get a wink of sleep. Reader toss
Love to see a reader that doesn't back down and even takes on a challenge. And oop— would you look at that. Nobody's really getting any sleep now. Hopefully, the bed frame's sturdy enough! And that the walls are thick enough for the sake of the neighbors.
"Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you." Mnhmmm...I'm sure it did.
I think the maintenance of professional distance flew out of the window the moment he said they should share the same bed— to which was literally made for a single person alone. Also when the reader agreed.
Please, just fuck already—
Did I get slightly absorbed in reading that I forgot to make comments? Yes. Sorry. I actually came back to drop a comment about the headboard bc I'm praying for that thing to survive the night.
Also...whoooo *fans self* there's a reason I was a bit occupied with reading than commenting. That bit was VERY distracting.
Ah, a touch of sadomasochism. Love to see it.
Personally, I've always been weak when it comes to the magic phrase "pretty girl". Always will be actually.
Hey!!! The bed frame survived. At least they'll be able to sleep comfortably now.
And the softness of the ending. From passionate and almost feral but gently holding each other and savoring the moment <333
Sunday
THE TENSION.
Ohhh, the underlying yearning and fear of speaking out because of the status. Wanting to just close that small gap and yet it feels like such a wide wedge between two people who simply want to love one another.
I am unwell.
"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours. You don't.
What if I flatline—
Yes. Go, reader! Tell him! That man's holding back too much when he already has such a gorgeous being in his arms who clearly wants him. Stop trying to play hard to get, Sunday.
Did I get distracted? AGAIN? Yes. Yes, I did.
Came back to comment when he said that he'd be gentle. Oh, his constant reassurances, and the way he does his best to memorize and savour the intimate moment with the reader. I am sighing out dreamily and swooning into a fluffy couch. He's even focusing on the reader's pleasure and comfort!!
...all these praises have me looking the side blushing and fanning myself—
THE CONFESSION. I'M TEARING UP AS WE SPEAK. THE WAY HE'S BEGGING??? I'M ON THE FLOOR.
I actually wanted to pick a dialogue to put here and fawn over but all of them are actually too good. I can't pick one. All of them are just— URGH
"His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go."
Lemme see if I can find that one specific meme that describes how I feel rn...
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AHA! FOUND IT!
Did you know? I'm actually an absolute sucker for the lines that go "You're home". Very much so. That was the final nail to the coffin.
Agrenti
Oop— fanboy behavior, huh?
Ngl, I'm fairly new to HSR so I don't really know this character. But he seems like such a sweet guy. Deserves tons of kisses.
"He didn't know whether to laugh or combust." Pretty understandable if someone as lovely and amazing as the reader offers to be your first kiss.
...giving me a wolf hidden in sheep's clothing vibes rn. Interesting. Nvm, he's still a sweetheart <3
He reminds me of a bunny somehow. Like I just wanna pet him and reassure him that he's fine. Very adorable too hehe
Reader has this man completely in the palm of their hand, I fear. Dude is absolutely SMITTEN.
He's so sweet huhu
The ending!! So soft and lovely. Just two people just enjoying the connection they have.
Aventurine
I will never tire of the way you write the reader, Eris! The sassy and confident attitude? Oh, please! I might just started simping for her instead of the men at this point—
"I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.” IM WHEEZING AS WE SPEAK.
“What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.” *cue incoherent fox wheezing noises* NO BC I AM IN LOVE WITH THESE REMARKS.
I just know the dealer's just there looking up to the ceiling and praying to whatever aeon there is to let the reader and this man just get a room before he has to call for both security and clean-up service.
Was the gap between feedbacks a bit...lengthy? Yes. But in my defense it's only 'cuz a certain writer over here really knows her way with words on how to make the tension so thick and palpable that I'm too busy drowning in it to make any comments.
"Let me take care of you." I dunno if you'll be able to tell which part I am on rn but I promise you that I am absolutely blushing and burying my face against my pillows.
"He moans in response" I am currently dying from a nosebleed.
Unsurprisingly, I'm weak towards the specific petname "love"...
I absolutely adore the softness of it all afterwards. My heart's melting huhu
Dr. Ratio
*breathes in*
THE INTIMACY—
Good gods, I am over here just reading the first scenes and I can already feel the tension seeping into my bones. I'm just here with a hand over my mouth, and completely invested in the way this all unfolds.
This one feels so...intimate somehow. I can't really explain it and I am absolutely loving it. I think it's in the way that most of the time the reader is more fiery and sassy while here? It feels like there's a bit more depth to it. Such a good read and I'm literally still at the first part.
"Let's move somewhere private." Yeah, I agree since I recall Aventurine saying they'll be back in a bit. Hell, I'm not even gonna be surprised if they were in the shadows making bets about how this all goes, and didn't want to disturb the moment.
"His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing." + "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."
I AM WEAK IN THE KNEES FOR THIS.
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"He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him..." Hands on my hips rn. I also had to take a moment to go 'Really?' with an exasperated expression on my face.
Devotion. First word that came to mind. I adore that so so very much.
I am feeling this fic was definitely the favorite child.
Wait. Just finished the fic. Lemme gather my thoughts. That— I...uhm..how...wow. Who knew a smut at 8AM could render me speechless in a good way, eh?
I just KNOW this fic was definitely the favorite child. Though the ending was a lot more bittersweet than I expected huhu
Jing Yuan
Ah, last but not the least. Unsure how to feel abt this one since I found him unnerving when I first met him in-game.
"Stop thinking so much." Goddamn, I wish it were a switch I could just turn off—
WELL, THAT THREW ME OFF-GUARD.
Was I once again sucked into the tension that I completely forgot to make comments? Yes. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. Eris writes them too well.
By this point, I truly have a love and hate relationship with this man. Do I still find him unnerving? Yes. But he also extremely attractive that it's unfair when matched with the honeyed-tongue of his.
Struggling rn/lh
...having even more mixed feelings abt Jing Yuan bc of this fic—
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But alas! Setting that aside...
Eris, I am positively in love with your writing <3
༉‧₊˚. Turning Page ˚.₊༉
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Ft. Sunday ノ Blade ノ Aventurine ノ Dr Ratio ノ Jing Yuan ノ Argenti
sum: unintended one night stands with hsr men wc: 15.7k (roughly 2k - 3k per part)
contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in argenti's), oral (receiving and giving), fingering, handjob, college au in argenti's, royal au in sunday's, both had been drinking in ratio's, legal age gap in jing yuan's, loss of virginity (reader's in sunday's part & argenti's in his part)
a/n: argenti's just so sweet <333
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༉ - 2k
The safe house was cramped and freezing, with bare walls that felt as though they'd been forgotten by time. The mission was far from over, and so was the night. Blade had insisted on sharing the only bed, his reasoning being that it made more sense for both of you to rest.
You didn’t argue, at least not openly—but as the minutes dragged on, frustration slowly began to creep in.
But beneath it all, there was an undercurrent, a taut thread of tension that whispered of something unspoken—a frustration you weren’t ready to confront.
The bed was far too small for two people. You could feel his presence constantly, his shoulder brushing against yours with every move you made. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or the quiet tension hanging in the air. The silence between you felt suffocating, far too thick.
You shifted again, desperate to find a comfortable spot, but it was futile. His warmth pressed into your side, too close for comfort. No matter which way you turned, there was only more of him—his body right there, almost too much. You tried to pull away, but the space was so tight you were only met with the sharp edges of the bed, forcing you back into him.
“Stop moving,” Blade muttered, his voice low and laced with irritation. But there was something else, a tension that hinted at a deeper frustration.
“This bed barely fits one person, let alone two,” you shot back, your tone tighter than you intended.
He didn’t miss a beat, “You’re welcome to take the floor.”
It wasn’t a real suggestion, the teasing smirk in his voice was undeniable. You huffed, exasperated, letting out a frustrated sigh as the bed creaked under the smallest of movements. It was maddening—this small space, the constant proximity, his body so close that your nerves hummed with awareness. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. Your heart was racing, and not for reasons you wanted to admit.
Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were your breathing and the ruffling of the duvet. Then Blade's voice sliced through that quiet like a knife. "You're too tense," he said, softer than before but with an edge. "Relax.”
You nearly laughed. Relax? In a bed this small, pressed up against him, with everything swirling between you? It was impossible. Instead, you shifted again, purposefully leaning just a little more into him, testing his patience.
He stiffened, just slightly. "Stop."
It wasn't an order, per se- more of a warning beneath the restraint of desire. The space between you was alive, humming with an unspoken something. Perhaps it was that frustrated buzz of being too close, or perhaps it was simply fatigue from the mission.
"I don't think either of us is getting any sleep tonight," you murmured.
Blade's response was a low grumble, his voice rougher than before. "You're right." Then, ever so slightly, he moved closer, closing the gap until you could feel the heat of his body right against yours again. That subtle shift was enough for your breath to catch in your throat, and the space between you began pulsating with something far more dangerous than mere proximity.
He shifted; his eyes razor-sharp as he spoke, his voice low, almost too calm. "If you're going to keep fidgeting, just say what it is you want.”
You shifted again, your body moving against his in a slow, deliberate motion. The air between you wasn’t just charged—it was thick with unspoken desires and the undeniable pull of him. His heat radiated against your back, his presence a magnetic force that sent a shiver cascading down your spine.
"I don’t know what I want," you murmured, your voice a betrayal. The words faltered under the weight of their lie, and you knew he heard it too. You did know and so did he.
Blade's eyes narrowed, his gaze nearly predatory. "Don't play games," he warned, his voice low.
You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against your ass, insistent and unmistakable. It sent an electric jolt right to your core, making your breath hitch. Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you.
You bit your lip, fighting a moan as Blade's erection pressed even harder against your ass. The intense heat coming off his body seeped into your skin. You knew you should pull away, maintain the professional distance between, but temptation just proved too strong.
You arched your back, pushing against him. A low groan rumbled from his lips and you could feel his control slipping, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his need.
"Don't tease," he growled, low and rough with desire. His fingers gripped your skin, firm and possessive, leaving faint crescents in their wake. A warning, a promise. You should stop this—walk away before the fire consumes you both. But you didn’t. Instead, your body moved of its own accord, your back arching again, pressing your ass against him with deliberate insistence.
The low, guttural sound that escaped his lips was almost feral, reverberating through you and igniting something wild. Blade’s hand slid up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the edge of your shorts. You knew you should probably stop this but as his fingers hovered, promising more, the pull of temptation was too strong and you couldn’t push him away. You didn’t want to.
"Blade." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.
His fingers curled around your thigh, jerking you closer. "Don't say my name like that," he growled, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Not unless you mean it."
You reached back deliberately, slowly, your hand finding his wrist. But instead of pushing him away, you pulled his hand higher, guiding his fingers to the damp heat between your legs. A low groan escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were, how much you wanted this.
Blade's fingers circled your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. His touch was electric, making your body shake with need.
His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, and making you ache for more. You arched your back, pressing your ass harder against his bulge. The friction was maddening; the heat between your bodies was almost unbearable.
"Please," you whispered. The word slipped out before you could catch it. "Blade, please."
The low growl was his immediate response, and his fingers slipped inside you. "Fuck," he growled, sounding rough with desire. "You're so wet."
You gasped as Blade's fingers plunged deep inside you, your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he thrust his fingers in and out, setting a brutal pace that had you seeing stars.
"That’s it-" he purred, his voice low and rough, sending shivers skittering down your spine. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, the words a seductive growl. "Take what you need."
The thought of his cock filling you, made your head spin. Your hand moved instinctively, fingers fumbling in a desperate attempt to free his cock. Blade's breath caught as your fingers reached around to his cock, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. You turned in his arms, facing him now, his eyes were dark with lust as you straddled him. "I want you," you breathed.
His hands gripped your hips,  "Are you sure?" he growled, his voice rough with restraint.
You nodded, your lips skimming his.
His resolve shattered. You reached between your bodies, your hand slipping inside his pants to free him. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, the tip slick with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, teasing him, delighting in the low, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest. Blade’s control cracked further as his hips jerked into your hand.
"I'm sure," you breathed, positioning yourself above him. "I want you to fuck me, Blade. I need it."
With that, you sank down onto him, taking his cock deep inside you in one smooth motion. A low moan tore from your throat at the sensation of being stretched and filled so completely. Blade's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake.
"Fuck," he growled, his head falling back against the pillow. "You feel so good."
You started to move, rising up and sinking back down, finding a rhythm that had sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Blade matched your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours, driving himself deeper inside you.
The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin, the bed creaking beneath you while you rode him.
"Harder," you demanded, your nails raking down his chest. "Fuck me harder."
Blade's response was to flip you onto your back, never once slipping out of you. He loomed over you, his eyes wild and hungry, his hips pistoning into you with a force that had the headboard slamming against the wall.
Your legs coiled around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, urging him to claim you fully. A moan tore from your lips, unbridled and desperate. "Yes," you gasped, your fingers clutching the sheets as his cock stretched and filled you, the sensation both overwhelming and addicting. "Don’t stop—just like that."
He silenced you with a bruising kiss, his mouth crashing against yours with a fervour that bordered on feral. His tongue danced against yours, matching the rhythm of his hips, exploring and claiming. You met him with equal hunger, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, the taste of copper blooming as you bit down. The sharp pain only seemed to drive him wilder.
Blade’s rhythm faltered for a moment, becoming chaotic, each thrust harder, deeper, as if he was losing control. His breath was ragged against your mouth, his groan reverberating low in his chest. "Fuck," he growled, the word guttural, strained, trembling with need. "I’m so close."
Your nails raked down his sweat-slicked back, leaving fiery trails along his skin. "Me too," you managed between breathless gasps, your body arching into him, seeking the climax coiling tight within you. "Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."
His movements turned punishing, each drive a collision of raw power and desperation, his body demanding your surrender. The pressure inside you built to a fever pitch, a tether about to snap. Blade’s voice cut through the haze, low and commanding, "Come for me, pretty girl."
Those words, spoken with such command, were enough to send you over the edge. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down around Blade's cock as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of intense, overwhelming pleasure.
"Yes -God yes!" you cried out, your head thrown back.
Blade followed, his hips slamming into you one final time as his release overtook him. His guttural groan was almost primal, his cock throbbing inside you as he poured himself into you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as some of his cum dripped out, running down your thighs.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was of your mingled breaths. Your bodies shone with sweat, were entwined. His weight pressed you into the mattress, exhaustion in his muscles.
Blade’s lips brushed against your temple, softer now, a contrast to the raw passion that had consumed you both moments before. And as your heartbeats slowed, his presence became the only thing you knew—a warmth, a gravity, pulling you under.
Blade rolled onto his back beside you, his arm pulling you close. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest.
"That was..." you started, but words failed you.
Blade chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "It was."
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༉ - 2.8k
The corridors are quieter than usual tonight, save for the faint echo of your footsteps and the sound of Sir Sunday’s armour as he walks beside you. You have done this many times before: this midnight escort from the ballroom to your chambers, accompanied by your knight. But there was something about tonight that felt different and maybe that’s because the event was hosted to find you a suitor.
The silence stretches, broken only by the soft rustle of your gown against the polished floor. His presence always feels heavier, and there's an edge to the air between you, something unsaid pressing against the confines of propriety.
"They were all good choices," Sunday says at last, in a low and even tone.
Your brow furrows. "Were they?"
He doesn't look at you as he replies. "I'd expect so. The court wouldn't invite anyone unworthy.".
You look over at him, catching the faint tension in his jaw. There's something restrained in the way he speaks tonight, something tightly wound beneath the surface. "And yet, I didn't choose any of them.".
He exhales sharply, the sound barely audible over his steps. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”
You slow your pace just enough that he has to adjust his stride to match. “Would you like to know them?”
His gaze flickers toward you briefly, a flash of gold under the dim light. “I doubt they’re for me to know, Your Highness.”
You stop to face him. The soft light casts shadows across his features, sharp and unreadable as always, but there’s something in his stance—a slight hesitation, the way his hand hovers just above the hilt of his sword—that betrays him.
"Maybe they are," you say, softer now, your voice barely enough to draw his attention fully.
For a moment, the distance between you feels insurmountable, though it's only a step or two. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, but his eyes search yours, as if trying to piece together what you're not saying aloud.
"I dismissed them all because none of them felt…" You pause, to think over the words. "....Right."
Sunday's grip tightens on the hilt of his sword. "You'll have to choose eventually," he says, deliberately keeping his voice neutral. "The court won't let you wait forever.".
"And what if I don't want to?"
The question hangs in the air, daring him to respond. You watch the flicker of something in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he’s worked too hard to keep buried.
“You’re the princess,” he says, but the words are softer this time, almost hesitant.
"And you're my knight," you reply, closing the distance.
He doesn't back up, but you notice the way his shoulders tense. "Exactly. And that is all I can be.".
Your breath catches at how his voice drops on the last word. There's no anger in it, no bitterness—only a quiet resignation.
"You think so, huh?" you whisper, not much louder than a whisper.
He turns away, tongue against his cheek. "I do."
You lift a hand before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing against the cold steel of his chest plate. The contrast between the armour and the warmth of the man beneath it sends a shiver through you. He freezes at the contact, his gaze snapping back to yours.
"Sunday…". His name is too familiar on your lips, but you can't stop.
"Don't." His voice is rough, but his hand rises, fingers curling loosely around your wrist. He doesn't pull you away, though; he doesn't move at all. "If you say anything else, I won't be able to forget it."
"Maybe I don't want you to."
The words have barely left your lips when he takes a step closer, erasing the distance between you. His eyes still remain so intense that they're pinning you in place, but there's a flicker of uncertainty there, too.
"This isn't a decision you can take lightly," he says in a low, hoarse voice.
"I already have."
He watches you, a silence building between you, gaining more and more weight with each passing second. Then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he lets go of your wrist only to frame your face with both hands.
"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours.
You don't.
His breath catches as you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, "I won't ask again," he whispers, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.
You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly that you are sure he can hear it. But you don't step back. You don't tell him to stop. You simply tilt your chin up, just a fraction, an invitation he doesn't need twice.
His lips brush against yours, tender at first, then pressing. It's the sort of kiss that seems like one great confession, revelation, and promise all at once. His hands move to the small of your back, drawing you closer, and you can't help but melt into him, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic.
When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your stomach flip.
"We can't…" he begins, but the words are half-hearted, not very convincing.
"We can," you correct, your voice steadier than you feel.
He looks at you for a long moment, something fierce and tender warring in his expression. Then, with a low groan, he surges forward again, capturing your lips with his own. This kiss is harder, more urgent, and you can feel the way his body trembles against yours.
“Your chambers” he mumbles against your mouth. “Now.”
Without any warning, he sweeps you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest as he heads down the hall. Your heart races with the sudden motion, but you do nothing to protest it-merely wrapping your arms around his neck for balance.
The castle is quiet at this time of night, most people having gone to bed. You feel as though you have the whole world to yourselves as Sunday carries you swiftly through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the stillness.
He doesn’t wait around when you reach your chambers: he kicks the door shut behind you and pins you against it with his body, hands roaming over your curves, mapping out your form through the layers of your gown.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he growls, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. “Wanted you.”
You arch into him, your head falling back as you let him in closer. "Then take me," you whisper, fingers curling in his hair.
He makes a low sound in his throat, something between a groan and a growl. His fingers find the fastenings of your dress and begin to undo them one by one, till the fabric pools at your feet. You stand before him clad in nothing other than your chemise, the thin material doing little to mask the signs of your body's reaction to his touch.
His gaze rakes over you, hungry and appreciative. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist.
He lifts you easily and sets you down on the bed. The sheets are cold against your bare skin as he lays you down, his body following yours, looking down at you with an intensity that takes the breath from your lungs.
"You sure about this?" he asks low, his voice rough with emotion.
You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you whisper.
That seems to be the only confirmation he needs. He bends down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that sends a tide of heat through your body, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste you thoroughly. You moan against his lips, your hands roving over his hard back.
His lips trail down your neck, tracing a path of fire in their wake. He pauses to suckle at your pulse point, and you can feel the way your heart races beneath his tongue. His hands slip under your chemise, and his calloused fingers skim the sensitive skin of your stomach.
"Sunday-" you gasp, arching into his touch.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Just relax.”
You do your best to listen, focusing on the feel of his hands on your skin. He explores you at leisure, learning every dip and curve, every spot that makes you sigh or whimper. By the time he carefully removes your panties, you're trembling with need.
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with wanting. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, his fingers teasing at your entrance.
"Don't-please-."
He pauses, his fingers stilling above your pussy. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. "Are you-" he starts, his voice soft.
You nod, knowing exactly what he’s going to ask, "I've never…”
His expression softens further, if that’s even possible. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “We’ll take this slow.”
As you nod, he drops between your legs and his breath ghosts over your folds. He starts off slow, his tongue tracing delicate patterns and teasing you with light touches until, gradually, the pressure builds up, licking and sucking on your clit until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.
His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you with his mouth. He is patient, very attentive, judging by your reactions and modulating his technique accordingly. When you're trembling near the edge, he slips a finger inside you, then two, stretching you slowly.
"That's it," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin.
He groans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers through you. "You taste so fucking good," he mumbles, his words just a little slurred. "Can't get enough."
As he continues to lap at your clit, his free hand slides down his own body, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. You can hear the slick sound of skin on skin as he begins to stroke himself.
"Fuck," he gasps, his hips bucking into his hand. "Want to be inside you so badly."
He redoubles his efforts, his tongue delving deep, his fingers pumping faster. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls starting to flutter around his fingers.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. I want to taste you."
With a few more well-placed licks, you're there, crying out as pleasure crashes over you in waves. He laps at your release, his own hand moving frantically over his cock, his groans muffled from where he’s buried himself against your folds.
He easily settles himself between your thighs, his cock at your entrance. His eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness as he looked down at you.
"You ready?" he asks, his voice low and rough.
You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes," you whisper. "I'm ready."
With a low groan, he starts to push inside, slow and careful with his movements. There's only a slight sting as he pushes in deeper, his eyes widening in concern.
"Does it hurt?" he asks, his brow furrowed.
You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I'm okay. Please, don't stop."
He searches your eyes for a moment, then nods, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.
You can feel every inch of him as he stretches you, filling you in a way you never have been filled before; it's agonisingly slow, but he refuses to be selfish and make this about his own pleasure.
"Fuck," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel incredible."
He gives you a moment to adjust, his hips pressed flush against yours. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and shallow at first. Each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you can't help but moan.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Let me hear you."
He increases his pace gradually, his hands gripping your hips for leverage. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and cries.
He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans. His tongue delves into your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his hips.
"You're taking me so well," he praises, his breath hot against your ear. "Such a good girl."
His hips roll in a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through you. One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple. The dual sensations make you gasp into his mouth.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours. "So perfect."
He shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. You cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you.
"There," he groans, doing it again. "Is that good?"
You can only nod, your nails digging into his back as he drives you higher and higher. The pleasure builds with each stroke, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.
He groans, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself deep inside you. "Fuck, angel," he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. "I love you. I've loved you for so long."
The confession bursts from his lips in something like prayer, and his eyes shine with its vehemence. It is as though a dam has burst inside him and all his pent-up feelings are pouring out in this moment.
"I know you're s'posed to pick one from the court," he goes on, his pistoning never flagging. "But don't. Please. Don't give yourself to anybody else."
His hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging in soft. "Choose me," he begs, his voice cracking. "Be mine. Only mine."
You can almost feel the desperation in his words, the raw need. It's readily apparent how the thought of you with another man is tearing him apart.
"I'll do anything," he whispers, his forehead against yours. "Anything to keep you. Just say you'll be mine."
His words are like a warm bath washing over you, filling your heart full of something that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. In this moment, you know without a single doubt that you want to be his and his alone. 
"I'm yours," you breathe, legs wrapping around his waist. "Now and always." He surges forward, capturing your lips in a reverent, passionate kiss. He picks up speed, his hips moving faster, harder, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of love he has into you.
"I love you," he gasps against your mouth. "I love you so much."
His thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Fuck," he groans. "I'm close. So close."
You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his cock pulsing with each stroke. Your pleasure was mounting to a crescendo as well, your inner walls fluttering around him.
"Come with me," he pleads, voice ragged. "I want to feel you come undone." His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, and that's all it takes. You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of it. 
He follows a moment later, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep inside you. He falls on top of you, his weight pinning you to the mattress. His cock still is buried deep inside, pulsating with aftershocks of his orgasm.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "That was... incredible," he murmurs, his voice muffled.
His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his lips brushing your pulse point. "Don't leave me."
You curl into him, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. "I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm right here."
He sighs contentedly, his grip on you loosening slightly. "Good," he murmurs. "Because I don't think I could bear it if you married any of them."
You smile, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. In this moment, everything feels right. The world outside might be chaos, but here, in his arms, you're safe. You're home.
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༉ - 3.1k
Argenti sat on the floor of your dorm room, trying his best not to feel completely out of place. He’d been here a few times already—enough to recognise the familiar scent of citrus from the candles you always kept burning. But even so, it still felt a little surreal. You, the girl everyone at the university seemed to know and admire, had somehow invited him into your space.
He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One night, a random chat at a party turned into shared laughs, then another conversation, until the two of you were talking long after your friends had left. Since then, you’d found reasons to hang out, even though it seemed to baffle everyone around you. You, the social butterfly, and him, the reserved guy who somehow ended up regularly meeting up with you outside of classes.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” you suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence as you lounged on your bed.
“What’s weird?” Argenti asked, glancing up from the guitar pick he’d been absentmindedly fiddling with.
“Us.” You made a vague gesture between the two of you, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I mean, we’re just very different”
Argenti blinked, unsure of what you meant. Was it a good different? Or a bad one? “I—I guess,” he stammered, his voice unsure. “But it works, doesn’t it?”
You tilted your head, studying him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, it does,” you finally said, your smile softening. “You’re sweet, Argenti.”
“Thanks?” he mumbled, his face warming up. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the compliment made him feel a little lighter.
You laughed at his blush suddenly wondering if there was a reason he became so flustered over small things. Sitting up, you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”
Argenti froze, his face going red in an instant. “Uh… why?”
You shrugged, clearly amused by his reaction. “Because you’ve got that look. You know, like you’ve thought about it a lot but never actually done it.”
“I don’t… have a look,” he muttered, but even his awkward attempt to brush it off didn’t work. “But no. I haven’t.”
Your eyes widened, and then you laughed—a genuine, playful laugh that felt more teasing than mean. “Wait, seriously? Not even like a dare or something?”
He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. “No,” he mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “I just… never really had the chance.”
You didn’t let up. “You’re telling me you’ve gone your whole life without even one kiss?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” he blurted out, immediately regretting it. He winced, wishing he could take the words back.
“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, the teasing gleam in your eyes shifting into something more playful. “Are you saying you want to change that?”
“I—I didn’t mean—” Argenti stammered, his face burning. But then your hand brushed lightly against his arm, and he looked up to find you studying him, a mysterious glint in your eyes.
“You want me to teach you?” you asked, your voice quiet now, though still carrying that playful edge.
His heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”
“Relax, Argenti,” you said, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m not doing this out of pity. Trust me, you’re a good looking guy, pretty face.”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or combust, but before he could say anything, you were already moving in, your gaze locked on his as you tilted your head. “Okay,” you murmured, voice soft. “Here’s how this works. Don’t overthink it. Just… follow my lead, alright?”
He nodded, his thoughts jumbled as he fought to find his bearings. Then your lips brushed against his—gentle, almost tentative, testing the waters. It was quick, almost too quick, and when you pulled away, you studied him with an amused expression, clearly pleased by the way he’d reacted.
Argenti’s mind spun for a moment, still reeling from the sudden soft pressure of your lips. But as your eyes met his again, something inside him clicked. The hesitation, the awkwardness—it all seemed so distant now. This was real, and there was no way he was going to let it slip away.
Without thinking, his hand rose to cup your cheek, gently pulling you toward him. His heart raced as the space between you vanished, and in a smooth motion, he leaned in again, this time with a newfound confidence.
The kiss came quickly, without hesitation, and it was unrestrained, still soft, but with a sense of urgency he hadn’t expected. He kissed you with intention now, the sweetness and eagerness spilling out in the way his lips moved against yours. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you just a little closer as if he wanted to lose himself in the moment. He’d never felt anything like this before.
The kiss wasn’t perfect. He stumbled a little, his lips not quite finding the rhythm, a few moments of clumsy movement as he tried to keep up. But in that imperfection, there was something pure. There was something real about it. Each time his lips brushed against yours, a little out of sync, you were patient, guiding him back.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a seasoned kisser. He made up for it with sweetness—lingering just a little longer than necessary, his hand never leaving your cheek, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Each time he leaned back in, he was driven by a need to prove that he could do this, that he wanted to be here with you.
When he finally pulled back, his breath coming in shallow gasps, he couldn’t help but glance up at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’d just run a marathon. His lips were swollen, and a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I probably messed that up.”
But when your gaze met his, there was no judgement, only amusement—and something softer, something deeper in your eyes.
“No,” you said gently, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You didn’t mess it up. It was… sweet. Really sweet.”
Argenti’s heart did a flip at the praise, and the knot in his stomach began to loosen. “I just—wanted to do it right,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to mess it up with you.”
You smiled, that familiar teasing gleam still in your eyes, but now with something warmer behind it. “Well, you didn’t. And if it helps, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s just… practice.” You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling mischievously. “And maybe a little bit of confidence. But don’t worry, I’m happy to teach you.”
The words sent a thrill through him. “I think I could learn from you,” he said, his voice a little breathless, his smile genuine. He was starting to feel more at ease, less unsure of himself. “I don’t mind practising.”
You laughed softly, your fingers brushing across his cheek, sending another wave of warmth through him. “Good,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “Because I’m not letting you off that easily.”
He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any distance between your bodies.
He could feel the warmth of your skin through your clothes, could smell the faint scent of your perfume. It was dizzying, overwhelming in the best way. He lost himself in the sensation, in the taste of your lips, the softness of your mouth.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Argenti's eyes were dark, pupils dilated with desire. "I want..." he started, then faltered, unsure how to put the ache inside him into words.
"What do you want, Argenti?" you asked, your voice a husky whisper. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.
"I want to touch you," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "I want to see you" He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I want you."
He watched as your eyes searched his face, saw the moment understanding dawned. A slow, seductive smile spread across your lips, and your fingers tightened on his shirt. "Then show me what you want." you whispered, your voice low and sultry.
Argenti's breath caught, his body responding instantly to your words. Emboldened, he reached for you, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing inch after inch of smooth, warm skin. He drank in the sight of you, committing every curve and dip to memory.
When the shirt fell away, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. You tilted your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along your collarbone. His hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.
He could feel your heart racing beneath his touch, could hear the hitch in your breath as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. With a deft movement, he unhooked it, letting the garment fall away. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, naked from the waist up, your breasts full and perfect.
Unable to resist, he cupped one in his palm, marvelling at the feel of it, the softness. He thumbed your nipple, watching it pebble under his touch. Your breath hitched, and you arched into him, wordlessly encouraging him.
He took the hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing nips.
Your skin was hot beneath his hands, your body pliant and responsive. He could feel the heat building between your legs, could sense your arousal growing with each passing moment. It spurred him on, fuelled his own desire.
“Let me-” you whispered, wanting to help him out, noticing his obvious bulge.
Argenti's breath hitched as your hands moved to his belt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buckle. He watched, transfixed, as you slowly unzipped his jeans, your knuckles brushing against his straining erection.
He swallowed hard, his hips twitching involuntarily at the contact. "I want to make you feel good too," he managed to say, his voice rough with need.
You smiled, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Patience," you purred, pushing his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. Argenti groaned, his head falling back as pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking into your touch.
You increased your pace, your grip firm but gentle. Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them in your palm. "It’s pretty" you murmured, your breath hot against his ear.
Argenti's heart raced as your hand worked him over, pleasure sparking through his veins with each stroke. His cock throbbed in your grip, the sensation almost too intense to bear.
"Your hand—it feels incredible," he panted, his voice strained with need.
You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. You lowered your head, your tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up his shaft. Argenti's breath caught, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
You took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each descent. The wet heat of your mouth was exquisite, driving Argenti wild with pleasure. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he fought the urge to thrust into you.
You hummed around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.
Argenti's grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, your throat constricting around his throbbing cock. The sensation was indescribable, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pleasure built at the base of his spine, coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of your tongue.
He could feel his orgasm approaching, the tightening of his muscles. But he didn't want this to end, not yet. He wanted to savour every moment, every sensation.
He quickly pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire.
"I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you around me when I come."
You chuckle at his neediness as you lean across your bed, grabbing a condom from your drawer.
Argenti's eyes widened as you retrieved a condom from your drawer, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in his stomach. He watched as you tore open the packet and then rolled the condom onto his cock, your fingers brushing against his sensitive skin, making him shudder.
Once the condom was in place, you turned around, giving Argenti a tantalising view of your ass as you bent over slightly. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, revealing your pussy to him.
Argenti's mouth went dry at the sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pressed himself against you. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin.
Argenti's hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his condom-sheathed cock nudging against your slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, beckoning him to plunge inside.
"I've never done this before," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I want to do it right. I want to make you feel good."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Just go slow," you murmured, reaching back to guide him forward. "And don't worry about doing it perfectly. Just focus on how it feels."
Argenti nodded, taking a deep breath as he began to push forward. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced - the tight heat of your pussy enveloping him, drawing him deeper. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the feeling. Inch by inch, he sank into you, until he was buried to the hilt.
Argenti bit down on his lip, fighting the urge to come right then and there. The sensation of being inside you was overwhelming, your tight heat gripping him like a vice. He could feel every flutter of your walls around his cock, every pulse of your arousal.
"Shit-” he gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wanted this to last, wanted to make it good for you.
Slowly, carefully, he began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before sliding back in. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, measured strokes. Your moans filled the room, spurring him on. He could feel your body responding to his, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.
"Is this good?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
Your reassuring moans and the way your body moved against his told Argenti all he needed to know. He continued to thrust, gradually increasing his pace as he grew more confident.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathy gasps and his low groans. Sweat beaded on his brow as he lost himself in the sensation, in the feel of your body beneath his. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to make sure you reached your peak first.
His hand slid around your hip, finding your clit. He rubbed in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Argenti's fingers worked your clit in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him as your pleasure mounted.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me feel you."
Your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Argenti knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder, faster, his fingers circling your clit with increasing pressure.
Suddenly, your back arched, your head thrown back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched around him, rippling along his cock, and Argenti groaned, the sensation pushing him over the brink.
With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his vision whiting out as he rode out the intensity of his release.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, both lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Finally, Argenti slipped out of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside you on the bed. He turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile on his lips.
Argenti's heart swelled at the gentle press of your lips against his forehead. The simple, tender gesture spoke volumes, conveying a depth of care and affection that he'd never experienced before.
He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you down for a soft, lingering kiss. It was different from the heated passion of before, this kiss. It was sweet, almost chaste, a physical manifestation of the connection growing between you.
When you pulled away, he gazed into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.
“You’re a natural.” you joke with a soft laugh as you wrap your arms around him.
Argenti chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he rested his head against your chest. "I think I'm a quick learner."
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༉ - 2.5k
The casino floor was alive with energy, especially  at your table. You and Aventurine had been on a streak for so long it was starting to turn heads. Chips piled up in neat stacks in front of you both, the gleam of gold and the scent of success making the night feel almost unreal.
“Another win,” Aventurine announced casually as the dealer slid another stack his way. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, the picture of effortless cool. “But let’s be real here. This run? It’s all because of me. Clearly, I’m your lucky charm.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms as you gave him an incredulous look. “You’re my lucky charm? I think you’ve got that backwards. If anything, you should be thanking me.”
He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Oh, is that how it is? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’ve been carrying this team all night.”
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Carrying? Please. I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.”
Aventurine laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a pleasant thrill up your spine. He tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your pulse quicken. “You talk a big game for someone who wouldn’t be winning without me. Admit it—you’re having fun because I’m here.”
You leaned in closer, matching his energy. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. “It’s so much fun watching you pretend you’re the reason we’re winning when we both know who’s really the lucky one here.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, the playful challenge in them unmistakable. “Careful, or I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”
You grinned, tapping a finger on the table. “What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.”
Aventurine barked a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “A slot machine? That’s the best you’ve got?” He leaned even closer, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got some nerve.”
“And you love it,” you said with a wink, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your words.
Aventurine’s grin widened, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head slightly. “You know what? You might be right. Guess I’ve got a weakness for confident types.”
The air between you shifted, the playful banter taking on a sharper edge. You refused to back down, instead, you leaned in, your faces just inches apart now.
“Careful, Aventurine,” you said, your voice soft but laced with teasing. “If you keep flirting like that, I might start thinking you’re not just here for the gambling.”
His gaze flicked to your lips for just a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes, his smirk now decidedly more dangerous. “Maybe I’m not.”
The tension between you and Aventurine was electric, the noise of the casino fading into a distant hum. His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with mischief and something more daring. Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, metallic keycard.
He twirled it between his fingers like it was a chip, the move impossibly smooth. “You’re good at reading between the lines,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Think you can figure out what this means?”
Your gaze flicked to the keycard, then back to his face, your heart pounding as your brain scrambled for a witty retort. “Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re trying to skip ahead in the game. Aren’t you supposed to take me out to dinner first?”
Aventurine chuckled, the sound rumbling and warm. He slid the card across the table, stopping it just in front of your hand.
You picked up the card slowly, holding it between your fingers as if weighing your options. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he said smoothly, leaning back with a confidence that was infuriatingly attractive. “Unless you count spending more time with me. But if that’s too much of a gamble, I’d understand.”
He collected his chips as he stood up, leaving the table, “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Wouldn’t want that luck to run out, now would we?”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you stood, slipping the card into your pocket. “Not a chance.”
You locate the room number on the keycard and slide it into the lock. The door swings open to reveal a spacious suite, all sleek lines and modern decor, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights below.
Aventurine is leaning against the wall by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turns as you enter, his eyes glinting in the dim light.
"I wasn't sure if you'd actually show," he says, his voice a low purr. "But I'm glad you did."
You close the door behind you, turning to face him fully. "And miss an opportunity like this? Not a chance."
He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between you with a few easy strides. "Opportunity for what, exactly?" he asks, his gaze roaming over your features with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
You meet his eyes boldly, refusing to be intimidated. "For whatever you have planned," you say, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart.
Aventurine's lips curve into a smirk, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Careful what you wish for," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You might just get it."
Your pulse races at his touch, desire and anticipation coiling tightly in your belly. "Promises, promises," you breathe, tilting your head into his palm.
His answering chuckle is dark and full of promise. "Oh, I always keep my promises," he says, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.
And then his lips are on yours, hot and demanding, and you're lost in the taste and feel of him, the world falling away until there's nothing but the two of you, caught up in a dance.
You melt into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in Aventurine's hair, pulling him closer as you press your body against his. He responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.
He tastes of whiskey and sin, and you can't get enough. Your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath your palms. He groans into your mouth, his hips pressing forward to grind against you, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.
"Bedroom," he rasps against your lips, his voice rough with desire.
You nod, breathless and wanting, allowing him to lead you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind you, then spins you around, pinning you against it with his body. His hands are everywhere, slipping under your clothes to stroke heated skin, his mouth trailing fire along your neck.
"You're so fucking sexy," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."
Your breath hitches as Aventurine's hands roam your body, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You arch into him, craving more, needing to feel every inch of him against you.
He groans, low and primal, his hips grinding harder against yours. His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and off, leaving you bare from the waist up. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with lust.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts. He leans down, his mouth hot against your skin as he kisses a trail down your sternum, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipple.
You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for, only knowing that you need more, need him.
He chuckles, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love," he purrs, his hands sliding down to pop the button of your jeans. "We've got all night."
And then he's on his knees in front of you. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes hooded and full of promise.
"Let me taste you," he murmurs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your jeans.
You nod mutely, your heart pounding in your chest as Aventurine slowly slides your jeans down your legs, his hands caressing your skin as he goes. He tosses them aside carelessly, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which are already damp with arousal.
He leans forward, his breath hot against your panties. "You're so wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the damp spot. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."
You squirm under his touch, desperate for more. "Please," you whimper, your hands fisting in his hair. "I need..."
"Shh," he soothes, placing a kiss over your clothed pussy, licking a stripe along your covered slit. "I know what you need. Just relax and let me take care of you."
And then he's pulling your panties aside, his fingers stroking through your slick folds. You gasp, your hips bucking into his touch. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin.
"So responsive," he praises, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "I can't wait to taste you."
And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping at your essence. You cry out, your head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crash over you.
He works you skilfully, his tongue alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks against your clit. His fingers join in, pumping in and out of you, curling to hit that spot inside that makes you see stars.
Your legs tremble as Aventurine's skilled mouth works you over, his tongue delving deep, lapping at your essence. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.
"Aventurine," you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair, pressing his face harder against your aching pussy. "I'm... I'm going to-"
He moans in response, the vibrations sending you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumes you. You grind against his face, riding out the waves of pleasure, his name a broken cry on your lips.
He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to wring every last drop of pleasure from your body. Finally, you collapse back against the door, boneless and sated, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Aventurine rises, his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips, his eyes dark with hunger. "So sweet," he purrs, his voice rough. "I could do that forever.”
You can only moan in response, your body still thrumming with aftershocks. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He takes your hand, leading you to the bed, pushing you down onto the plush mattress. He crawls over you, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the sheets.
"I need to be inside you," he growls, his hips grinding against yours, letting you feel the hard length of him through his pants. "I need to feel you wrapped around me, squeezing me.”
You reach down, fumbling with the button of his pants, desperate to free his cock. He helps you, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to spring free, his erection bobbing against your stomach.
"Please," you whimper, wrapping your hand around him, stroking the velvety soft skin. "I need you, too. I need to feel you stretch me, fill me."
He groans, his hips thrusting into your hand. "Fuck, you're killing me," he pants, reaching down to position himself at your entrance.
With a single, powerful thrust, Aventurine pushes his cock all the way inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your body struggles to adjust to his size. He stills, giving you a moment to acclimate, his forehead resting against yours.
"Breathe," he murmurs, his hips flexing slightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."
You take a shuddering breath, your inner walls fluttering around him. Slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips against his, urging him deeper. He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.
"You feel incredible," he pants, his lips brushing against your ear. "I could stay buried inside you forever and die happy."
You clench around him, relishing the feel of him stretching you, filling you. "More," you demand, your nails digging into his back.
He laughs breathlessly, complying with your request, his hips snapping against yours with increased force. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.
Aventurine's thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he nears his peak. His hands grip your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he pounds into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed.
"Come with me," he demands, his voice a guttural growl. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."
Your body tenses, your inner walls fluttering around him as your orgasm approaches. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he finds his release.
The feel of him coming inside you is enough to push you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows you, his hips jerking as he spills his cum deep within you.
You collapse back against the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Aventurine follows suit, laying down beside you. He leans over peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. "You’re beautiful" he murmurs, his voice soft with satisfaction.
You smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked skin.
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I aim to please," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I'm not done with you yet, love. Not by a long shot."
You shiver at the promise in his words, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Is that so?" you ask, arching an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" 
His grin is wicked, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "Oh, I think you'll find out soon enough.”
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Topaz’s flat was warm and inviting, the perfect spot to unwind for a casual evening. Soft amber light spilled across the room, casting a cosy glow  that made the space feel like home. Somewhere in the background, faint music played  that blended perfectly with the gentle clinking of glasses and low chatter.
“We’ll be right back,” Aventurine called out, with Topaz trailing close behind as they disappeared toward the kitchen.
You had settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa, a glass of wine in hand and Veritas lounging beside you. Tonight, he seemed different—relaxed in a way you rarely saw. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie discarded, and his usually immaculate hair slightly mussed, as though he’d finally let the weight of the day slip away.
The air between you buzzed with the kind of easy familiarity that only came with years of friendship, though tonight there was something else–.
“Another top-up?” Veritas asked, his voice smoother and slower than usual as he reached for the wine bottle on the low table. Without waiting for an answer, he topped off your glass and then poured more into his own.
“You’re a terrible influence,” you teased, though you made no move to stop him. “If I wake up with a headache tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”
He smirked, swirling his wine with an air of mock innocence. “I’d argue it’s your fault for being such agreeable company.”
The words lingered, their meaning sharper than his usual dry humour. You glanced down at your glass, suddenly unsure what to say. Was it the wine, or was there something more in his tone tonight?
“Quiet now, are we?” he teased, leaning in just slightly. “You’re usually quicker with a retort.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Just giving you a moment to bask in your supposed wit.”
His chuckle was low and warm, the kind of sound that settled somewhere deep in your chest. His knee grazed yours, a light touch that didn’t feel accidental. When you shifted slightly, his arm brushed against yours and lingered, just enough to make you wonder if he’d noticed it too.
“I’ve always admired that about you,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Admired what?” you asked, your pulse quickening.
“You have this way of making even the most tedious conversations feel alive.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, he wasn’t the sharp, collected man you knew so well. “Though I don’t think this moment qualifies as tedious, does it?”
You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. It doesn’t.”
Neither of you moved for a moment. His hand found yours, his fingers warm and steady, and though the gesture caught you off guard, you didn’t pull away. His thumb traced slow circles over your skin, sending a rush of heat up your arm.
“Veritas—” you began, but your voice faltered.
“Too much?” he asked gently, his brows drawing together, as if he was ready to let go at the slightest hint of hesitation.
“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not too much.”
His shoulders relaxed, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his lips. He shifted closer, his arm sliding along the back of the sofa until his fingers brushed your shoulder. The scent of his cologne—something crisp with a faint warmth beneath it—lingered in the space between you, making your head swim.
The world beyond the sofa seemed to fade. His presence filled the room, his thumb still tracing light, deliberate circles on your hand. When his fingers grazed your neck, their touch feather-light, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you.
“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and earnest. “Should I be worried?”
You turned to face him, and suddenly his face was so close to yours. His gaze locked onto yours, and your breath hitched. It felt impossible to look away.
“Not worried,” you managed softly. “Just… thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he quipped, though his voice held less humour now. His hand shifted, brushing along the curve of your jaw. His touch was barely there, yet it lit up every nerve. “Care to share?”
You hesitated, not because you didn’t know what to say, but because the words carried weight. “I was thinking,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart, “that you don’t seem as restrained as usual tonight.”
A flicker of something—surprise, maybe—passed across his face before he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual teasing smirk; it was softer, quieter, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Restraint,” he murmured, “has its time and place. And this… doesn’t feel like one of them.”
The charged silence between you was almost unbearable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to stop him, but you didn’t.
When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tentative, like he was testing the waters. It was fleeting, yet it left your heart racing. His hand slipped to your jaw, steady and warm as he kissed you again, this time with more certainty.
You melted into him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was fast beneath your palms, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“We should…” His voice was rough now, laced with restraint. “Move somewhere more private.”
Your heart jumped at the suggestion, and you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Yeah.”
He stood smoothly, his hand slipping into yours as he cast a quick glance toward the kitchen. When he was sure your friends were still out of sight, he guided you down the hallway. His touch was firm, grounding, but there was a tenderness in the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
At the end of the hall, he paused outside a closed door. His free hand found the handle, turning it slowly. The hinge creaked softly as he pushed the door open, revealing the spare bedroom. He guided you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room was small but cosy, with a large window that let in a silver glow.
Veritas turned to face you, his expression a blend of uncertainty and desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We can stop if you want to."
His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing.
You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your palm, and you marvelled at the softness of his stubble against your fingers.
He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, they were dark with want.
He captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was nothing like the tentative brush of lips from earlier. This time, there was no holding back. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the firmness of his muscles.
You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. He tasted of wine and something uniquely him - a flavour you knew you'd crave forever. His tongue teased your lower lip before delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming with a passion that left you breathless.
Slowly, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you. "Tell me you want this," he breathed, his hands settling on your hips. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."
The words were a plea, a confession. In this moment, the usually composed and controlled Veritas Ratio was laid bare before you, vulnerable and wanting. Your heart swelled with affection and desire.
"I want this," you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest to link behind his neck. "I need you. Please, Veritas..."
His name on your lips seemed to break the last of his restraint. With a groan, he kissed you again, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.
It wasn’t long before Veritas' fingers deftly worked at the zipper on his trousers, his movements quick yet precise, revealing the bulge straining against his underwear. With a deft tug, he freed his cock, the hard length springing forth, already flushed and throbbing with need.
He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him. Moonlight spilled across his body, highlighting the contours of his muscles, the defined lines of his abs. His cock was long, with a prominent vein on the underside.
You wasted no time, sinking to your knees before him. The plush carpet cushioned your knees, but you barely noticed. His cock jutted out, hard and proud, the tip glistening with pre-cum in the moonlight.
Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. He was hot and heavy in your grasp, the skin velvety soft over the rigid flesh beneath. You stroked him slowly, savouring the weight of him, the way he twitched and throbbed against your palm.
Veritas groaned, his head falling back as he savoured your touch. "God," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "Feels so good-”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. The taste of him exploded across your tongue, salty and musky, uniquely him.
Emboldened, you took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. He was big, filling your mouth completely, but you revelled in it. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.
"Fuck," Veritas gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that, baby. Take me deeper."
You obeyed, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you held him there, your nose pressed against his pelvis, breathing in his scent.
Veritas’ grip on your hair tightened, his hips rocking forward slightly. "God, sweetheart," he moaned, his voice strained. "You're incredible."
The praise washed over you, spurring you on. You bobbed your head, setting a steady rhythm as you worked him with your mouth. Your hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm.
Veritas' hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you further down his shaft. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take all of me."
You complied eagerly, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward until your nose nestled against his pelvis. The scent of him filled your senses, musky and intoxicating. You held him there, savouring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he throbbed against your palate.
"God, beautiful-" Veritas gasped, his hips rocking forward slightly. "You're so good at this. So fucking perfect."
His words sent a thrill through you, stoking the heat building in your core. You pulled back slowly, letting him slide from your mouth with a lewd pop. Strings of saliva connected your lips to his cock, glistening in the moonlight.
"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I want to see you get off while you suck my cock."
Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you didn't hesitate. Your hand slid beneath your skirt. You were already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin.
You circled your clit with your fingertip, gasping at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you. Ratio watched with hooded eyes, his cock twitching in your grip.
"That's it, baby," he urged, his hand guiding your head as you took him back into your mouth. "Make yourself feel good. I want to hear you moan around my cock."
You obeyed, increasing the pressure of your fingers as you sucked him deeper. Your other hand came up to fondle his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. The combined sensations were overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing second.
Veritas’ breath came in short, sharp gasps as you worked him with your mouth and hands. His cock throbbed against your tongue, the veins along the shaft pulsing with need. You could tell he was getting close, his hips rocking faster, his grip on your hair tightening.
Suddenly, he pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. "As much as I love your mouth," he panted, his eyes dark with lust, "I need to be inside you."
You nodded eagerly, your heart racing at the thought. He helped you to your feet, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. With a swift motion, he pushed your skirt up around your waist and tugged your panties down your thighs.
Veritas gently pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger. "Always been so pretty" he murmured, his hands skimming up your thighs to your hips.
He settled between your legs, the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You could feel his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Slowly, he pushed forward, stretching you open around him.
You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. He was so big, filling you completely. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm.
"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.
His words sent shivers down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He obliged, his thrusts growing harder, faster.
The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. Veritas' hands gripped your hips, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. But you didn't mind the pain, not when pleasure was coursing through your veins like liquid fire.
Despite the intense sensations coursing through your body, you bit your lip, muffling your moans and gasps. The thought of Aventurine and Topaz hearing you in the other room was enough to keep you silent, even as Veritas’ thrusts grew harder, deeper.
He seemed to sense your restraint, his eyes locking with yours in the darkness. "Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want to hear you.”
You shook your head, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You couldn't risk it, couldn't bear the thought of your friends walking in and catching you in such a compromising position.
Veritas frowned slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, swallowing your silent cries of pleasure.
His hips never stopped moving, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body. You could feel your climax building, getting closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear.
"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Let go. I've got you."
His words were your undoing. With a muffled cry, you came undone, your body convulsing beneath him as you gushed around his cock. Veritas quickly pulled out, his cum shooting out and splattering on your folds.
You lay there in the aftermath, your chest heaving, your limbs trembling. He  collapsed on top of you, his weight a welcome comfort.
Slowly he rolled off you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you close, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his heart racing, matching the pounding of your own.
He kissed your shoulder softly. "We should probably get cleaned up and head back out there," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "Before Aventurine and Topaz come looking for us."
You nodded, leaning in to kiss him one last time before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth.
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The training grounds hummed with the steady rhythm of swords meeting swords, the sharp ring of steel echoing in the air. You were lost in the rhythm, your every move precise as you worked through the drills Jing Yuan had set for you.
The weight of the training session was starting to catch up with you—your muscles burning, sweat trickling down your back—but you refused to stop. His gaze was always on you, but today, there was something about it that made your heart race a little.
Jing Yuan was a study in effortless grace, each movement fluid and controlled as he parried your strikes. His hair shimmered in the sunlight. His composure was unmatched—he never seemed to break a sweat, even when you were struggling to keep up. And yet, his every motion felt like a reminder that you still had so much to learn.
“You’re improving,” he said suddenly, his voice a smooth, unwavering contrast to the intensity of the training. He dodged your strike so easily it was as if he already knew it was coming. “But you’re still too tense. Stop thinking so much- Let your instincts take over.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his words. You couldn’t quite explain it, but his praise always felt so... personal. It was like he wasn’t just teaching you how to fight; he was seeing something deeper. And you hated how giddy that made you feel.
The practice continued, but with each passing moment, it became harder to focus. Every glance he gave you seemed to leave you a little more flustered, his every compliment a spark that made your heart flutter. You tried to shake it off, to stay in the moment, but your movements became a little less fluid.
“That’s better,” he said again, his eyes narrowing as he watched you catch your breath. “You have the power. You just need to learn to channel it.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin. It wasn’t that you weren’t good at sword fighting, but when Jing Yuan spoke to you like that, it felt different. His words were a quiet evaluation, but they made your heart feel exposed, as though he was seeing right through you.
Minutes blended together in a haze of quick movements and hurting muscles. The sweat on your forehead trickled, and you could feel the strain in your arms and legs, but you pushed yourself harder, determined not to disappoint him. Finally, when the session was over, you dropped your sword, your breathing heavy.
"That's enough for today," Jing Yuan said, his voice quiet yet imperative as he stepped toward you. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the fatigue in your eyes, the way you were trying to steady your breathing. "You have worked hard.
You managed a small smile, though the weight of the session left you feeling drained. "I'm fine," you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You weren't sure if you were convincing anyone, least of all him.
He studied you a moment longer, his sharp eyes picking up the subtle signs: the way you were holding your breath, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly. With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The touch was light, but it sent a ripple of warmth through you, and you couldn't quite keep the flutter from your chest.
"Let me check you over-" he said, his voice dropping an octave soft yet purposeful. "make sure you're not hurt."
The words should’ve been routine, should’ve been just another part of the training, but the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered a little longer than usual, made everything feel different. His touch was so careful as he ran his hands over your arms, your shoulders, your ribs—light and methodical, almost as if he were memorising every detail of you. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks through your skin, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally.
“Does this hurt?” His fingers pressed against a sore spot near your ribs where you'd taken a hit earlier.
You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat, before shaking your head. "It's a little sore.
His eyes softened, a glint of concern in them as he regarded you, yet there was something else, too-something more than mere mentorship. The air between you grew thick with unspoken tension, not exactly teacher and student, but something else entirely. His presence overwhelmed you; the way he watched you-also so intense-made it even harder to think clearly.
Before you could catch yourself, your fingers grazed his chest-just the lightest touch, but it felt like an electric jolt went through you. The space between you contracted, and the pull you'd been fighting became too much. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a fleeting, impulsive kiss.
The world seemed to stop for that second, and then Jing Yuan froze. His body stiffened, and for a second you thought you'd made a terrible mistake. But when he pulled back, his expression wasn't anger or confusion-it was soft, searching. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he were trying to understand the emotions swirling there.
You stepped backward in haste, heat flooding your face as you muttered, "I- I didn't mean-"
But before you could get the words out, his hand was cupping your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. His thumb stroked your skin with soft gentleness-a motion that made your heart thud. "Don't apologise," he said, his voice soft, low-assuring. "You don't have to be sorry."
The air between you seemed to thicken with the weight of the moment. Jing Yuan leaned in just slightly, giving you space to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You stood there, your heart racing in your chest, the tension building with each breath you took.
“I think…” he began, his voice a little quieter, “you’re not the only one who’s been holding back.”
Your breath caught in your throat. That was all he needed to say, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The spark between you wasn’t one-sided. And maybe this was the beginning of something neither of you had expected.
Slowly, hesitantly, you reached up to cover his hand with your own, pressing it more firmly against your cheek. "Then what’s stopping us?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Jing Yuan's eyes darkened at your words, a flash of hunger in their depths. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.
You nodded, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
With those words, Jing Yuan closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate, desperate kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you.
You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervour. The world spun around you, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips on yours, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing.
You felt yourself being pulled into Jing Yuan's embrace, your bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that left you breathless. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, his taste, his very essence.
Time seemed to stand still, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. Jing Yuan's hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. You arched into him, craving more of his touch.
Jing Yuan broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was a flicker of concern there too. "We should move somewhere more private," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "There are too many prying eyes here."
You nodded, your heart still racing as you glanced around the training grounds. He was right. Anyone could stumble upon you like this, could see the way you were clinging to each other, the way your lips were swollen from his kisses. The thought sent a thrill through you, even as it filled you with a sense of urgency.
Jing Yuan took your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as he led you away from the training grounds. You followed him willingly, your steps quick and eager, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his touch. He led you through the winding paths of the gardens, past flowering bushes and babbling fountains, until you reached a secluded grove hidden behind a curtain of willow branches.
As soon as you were out of sight, Jing Yuan pulled you into his arms once more, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you kissed him back. His hands roamed over your body, slipping beneath your clothes to caress the heated skin beneath.
Your hands fumbled with the fastenings of Jing Yuan's robes, your fingers shaking with a mix of anticipation and nerves. He helped you, his own hands working to remove your clothing with a practised ease that belied his gentle touch. Soon, the fabric fell away, leaving you both bare in the dappled sunlight filtering through the willow branches.
Jing Yuan's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze appreciative as he drank in the sight of you. "You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. His hands skimmed over your curves, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Your fingers trailed over the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his abdomen, marvelling at the feel of his skin beneath your palms.
Jing Yuan groaned at your touch, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You could feel his cock, hot and insistent against your stomach, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. Your own body responded in kind, aching and throbbing with a need that was almost painful in its intensity.
His lips found your neck, his teeth nibbling, and tongue leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the sensation. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.
"Jing Yuan," you gasped, your voice breathy and needy. "Please..."
His response was to lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you. Jing Yuan pressed you against the cool stone wall of the garden, his body pinning you in place as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your legs tightened around his waist, drawing him closer, craving more of his touch.
He held you up with one arm as the other delved lower, his fingers finding your pussy. You were already wet, your body ready for him, and he groaned at the feeling. "So ready for me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."
His fingers circled your clit, teasing and stroking, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You rocked your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Jing Yuan obliged, his fingers sliding lower to dip inside you, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come.
You could feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need. "Please," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."
Jing Yuan's eyes met yours, "I've got you," he promised, his voice low and husky. And with that, he pushed forward
Jing Yuan’s cock pushed inside you slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your face for any sign of discomfort. You could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, filled you, your body adjusting to his size. It was a delicious burn, a sweet ache that only made you want more.
"Dove," he breathed, the pet name a reverent whisper on his lips. His hips pressed forward, burying himself deeper inside you, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. "So tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips for support. "So perfect."
You clung to him, meeting his thrusts. The pleasure was immense, overwhelming, and you could feel yourself already teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Jing Yuan's thrusts grew harder, faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he lost himself in the feel of you.
His thrusts grew more urgent, more demanding, as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. His hips slammed against yours, driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.
Jing Yuan's lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you harder, deeper. His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, circular motions. The added stimulation was too much, and you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure, blinding ecstasy.
"Atta girl," Jing Yuan growled, his voice strained with his own impending release.
Your walls clenched around him, milking his length as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax. Jing Yuan followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he emptied himself inside you, ropes of cum spilling inside you.
As the final waves of your shared ecstasy subsided, Jing Yuan held you close, his body still intimately connected with yours. He peppered your face with soft, tender kisses, his hands gently stroking your hair and caressing your back. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had just consumed you both.
"Think that was a good training session" he joked, his voice low and content.
You couldn't help but laugh, a breathless, giddy sound that bubbled up from your chest. "I think that was the best training session I've ever had," you replied, your words laced with a mix of humour and sincerity.
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reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3
© lovesculprit → do not copy or translate any of my works
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azsazz · 3 days ago
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In Safe Arms (Part 2)
Bodyguard!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Hey ! Ik u are hella busy and I am so proud of ur for ur publication , but if u ever get time could u do a Celebrity reader x bodyguard az?
Warnings: A little PTSD for reader alluding to a horrific incident but not much described besides blood.
Word Count: 3,702
Notes: Happy New Year my loves!
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You’re jolted awake at the rocking of your SUV dipping into a pothole.
Your spine straightens on its own accord and your bleary eyes snap open, frantically scanning the space, on high alert. Your heart pounds in your chest as you desperately try to take in your surroundings. Outside the window, there is nothing but darkness, the skies and scenery draped in midnight-hour black.
It takes you more than a second to realize where you are. In the back of an SUV on your way to your parent’s charity gala that you cannot miss. Except that the weather in New York took a turn for the worse, a heavy blizzard that no news stations mentioned before you fell into an exhausted sleep last night. No planes in, and no planes out.
Which meant that you had to find alternative transportation to make it to Chicago before the gala, which meant that Azriel had to arrange safe travel for you to get there on time, his job already on the line from his mistake only days ago.
Not the kiss. Not the weak fucking moment he had in the bathroom of your suite after a passerby tossed an unknown object at you that split the skin above your brow.
Your parents don’t know about the kiss. You tried to convince Azriel that it wasn’t worth telling them, and he tried to convince you that it couldn’t happen again.
His eyes had been hard. He’d been wearing that same stoic mask he showed up on his first day with. “We can’t do that again,” he’d said, like the kiss was transactional. Like he didn’t feel the passion that lit your entire body up, the wanting in your bones.
No kisses have happened in the days since.
Your eyes connect with Azriel’s through the rear-view mirror and the sight of your infallible bodyguard has you relaxing against the warm leather seat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Azriel says softly. His rough, gravelly tone sharpens his apology.
“It’s fine,” you brush off, but it’s not fine. Nothing that has anything to do with you is ever fine.
Silence takes over the car. He hasn’t even turned on the radio to keep him company while you slept. You frown at the thought, then realize that silence is probably what Azriel is used to, what he prefers.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you admit.
Azriel’s gaze stays focused on the road, not another vehicle in sight. “You needed it,” he defends, and you shrug.
“Where are we?”
“A few hours away from the Ohio border,” Azriel answers. You glance at the neon glow of the clock. It reads just past one in the morning, which means that you still have seven or so hours of driving to go, depending on how bad the road conditions are.
You’re supposed to be in Chicago by ten a.m. for brunch with your parents and the charity director for the gala, but with all of the delays that have happened since New York, you’d much rather spend as much time as you can away from the crazy normal that is your life. This unexpected road trip feels like a breath of fresh air that you didn’t know you needed.
You squint, peering around the passenger seat. The roads are clear from snow, piled high on the sides of the highway, but that doesn’t mean that there can’t be patches of black ice to look out for.
You decide to keep Azriel company. You don’t want to be sleeping the night away peacefully while he navigates through four states to get you back to your parents. You know for a fact that he’s gone days without speaking a single word nor getting an ounce of sleep, but right now, with the dark of night blanketing the car, it feels cruel.
Azriel protests when you unbuckle and climb over the console, claiming the front passenger seat. His hands are white-knuckled around the steering wheel and he tries to keep his focus on the road, though you do catch him sneaking a protective peek over at you more than once. It makes you want to snort with amusement, there’s no threat here, unless he hits a patch of aforementioned black ice, but you trust Azriel with your life, so you should be fine.
And you are. Azriel’s shoulders don’t lose a strand of tension until your buckle slides locked with a click. Even then, he can hardly relax. “You shouldn’t be up here.”
“And you shouldn’t be driving this late at night,” you retort easily, kicking your feet up on the dash. Azriel’s hand comes down over your knee before you can fully prop up your legs, guiding you in a gentle yet stern matter to keep your feet on the floor. You follow his command so that he doesn’t banish you back to the back seat.
He hardly acknowledges you, focusing on the task at hand. Delivering you in one piece to Chicago in time to arrive at all of your scheduled meetings. He will not fail your family a second time.
With his focus pinned on the road, you drink your bodyguard in. His eyes flicker from the rearview mirror to the side mirrors to the windshield in meticulous rotation. You trail your gaze down the straight slope of his nose to his pink, plush lips. You haven’t stopped thinking about his mouth on yours since the desperate kiss you shared in your hotel room two nights ago, and a warm heat coils low in your stomach at the memory, waking you up.
“You look tired,” you murmur, distractedly. He does. The gray circles under his eyes aren’t the only thing giving Azriel’s exhaustion away. It’s in the way he blinks slowly, but forces his eyes wide. It’s in the way he drums his fingers against the steering wheel for something to focus on other than the road. It’s in the empty cup of coffee stacked on his old ones. He’s stopped thrice tonight for a caffeine boost and you slept though them all. He’d be jonesing for another if you hadn’t climbed up into the seat beside him. His entire body is tightened with alert now that you’re here.
He isn’t tired, he’s wired. Three large black coffees might have been too much, but it’s your presence that has Azriel more alert than anything. His skin heats at the feeling of your eyes on him, can feel every movement you’re making from across the console.
He taps his fingers against the wheel to expel the nervous energy. You wonder what’s going on because Azriel’s resolve never cracks like this. Everything was fine when you were in the backseat, asleep. He didn’t have to interact, possibly mislead you. He was free to dig into his mind, overthink every little thing that’s happened between the both of you since this little journey began.
He knows you too well. He has to. He’s read your file, like he does with all of his clients. Somehow, you’ve managed to worm your way into his mind, deeper than a flesh wound.
“I’m fine,” he assures. He rubs a hand down his jaw, the short stubble tickling his skin. He needs to shave.
“We should stop for the night,” you protest, catching glimpse of a sign on the side of the highway that shows that you’re only a few miles away from a town to get gas and sleep.
“We need to be in the city early,” Azriel refutes. He chances a glance over at you. Your arms are crossed over your chest and you’re wearing that stern, determined look on your face that makes his cock twitch in his pants. He keeps himself carefully still. “We don’t have time to stop.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that we stop for the night, Azriel,” you reply. “I was telling you that we are going to stop for the night.”
He should protest, he knows that he should. He doesn’t know anything about this town, if it’s filled with lunatics or people who’d try and harm either one of you for your expenses. The decked-out, expensive SUV is a sign screaming rich.
You don’t remove your glare from him until he veers the vehicle onto the exit ramp.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“I’ll take the chair,” Azriel says, eyeing the single bed in the room. “I won’t be sleeping anyway.”
Your nose scrunches. You stare at the chair for a long second and return your gaze to Azriel’s. The entire point of stopping for the night was to rest, to let the storm that caught up to you play out and hopefully finish the drive with clearer conditions.
Something clenches in your chest. You’re not sure if it’s your heart or your stomach or both.
He won’t sleep because there is only one bed.
“So, you’re going to sit in that chair,” you repeat like you don’t understand. You don’t, and you point to the faded green armchair. The rests are made of a blonde wood and the back of the chair sits so straight that there’s no chance anyone could actually fall asleep in it. “And do what? Watch me sleep?”
His jaw sharpens, the muscles flexing as he clenches his teeth. His hazel eyes follow the point of your finger for a fleeting second before returning to yours.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s watched you sleep.
“I’ll turn the chair toward the window,” Azriel answers like this is a solution. If it makes you uncomfortable, he will even wait in the car.
The real solution would be for him to get in the fucking bed with you and sleep for a few hours. You saw the stack of empty coffee cups in the car. You saw the strain in his posture, the way he was forcing himself from giving into his exhaustion.
A disbelieving noise crawls up your throat. He’s so fucking stubborn. It’s not like you’re both eighteen and the prospect of touching looms over you. No, you’re both adults. You’ve seen him sans clothes, even if it was an accident, and Azriel has been in the room with you during fittings with designers your father fully didn’t trust. He may have been turned toward the window, you toward the mirror, but there was always the thrill that maybe he’d peek over his shoulder, give you a long once-over, that maybe some sort of want would infiltrate his hard, hazel eyes.
You’ve imagined it more than once.
“Azriel,” you scold. You busy yourself with moving your luggage to the empty desk in the corner. The table wobbles as you set your things on it, but it stays upright. You quickly move back toward the bed and tug the blankets back, doing your best to reign in your cringe as you think about the possibilities of what could have gone on in this dingy motel room on the side of the interstate. You’re used to luxurious, five-star hotels catering to your every need, not rundown motels that reek of mothballs and crime.
Ghosts. Are there ghosts?
“We stopped here specifically so you could sleep,” you try to argue, but you sound distracted, and Azriel’s gaze snaps to yours, his shoulders straightening like he’s going into protective mode.
He catches you staring dazedly at the bed. Your fingers are curled tightly into the blankets, lips pressed together tightly. Your chest is rising and falling more quickly, and he rounds the bed, coming to your aid.
Azriel knows the life you’re used to living. What you must be thinking about a place like this. He could say something mean, mention how spoiled you are, how it’s just like the hotels you usually stay in, minus the amenities. He wants to tell you that people have done worse things in nicer rooms, especially the ones you tend to stay in, but he knows that your frozen features are due to something else, a dark memory that edges up every once in a while.
“Let me get you some fresh blankets,” he murmurs. His hand comes down around your wrist gently, drawing you slowly from your daze. The heat of his body sears through the thin fabric of your pajamas, and you latch onto that as you squeeze your eyes shut and force the memories away.
“No,” you choke, sounding much more put-off than you’d like. Azriel knows your past, you remind yourself, he knows everything about you, this isn’t you looking weak. You’re only human. “It’s fine, I—” you swallow roughly as a smatter of red conjures behind your eyelids. You try hard not to flinch, but it’s there, the blood on the walls like some fucking mural.
You look down at your hands, painted with the same crimson. Your clothes, and as you drag your eyes up to the bed—
“Hey,” Azriel snaps, hand planted firmly on your cheek, tearing you from the awful memory. You blink and your eyes latch onto his worried hazel ones. You didn’t even notice Azriel turning you around, how your hand went from clutching the sheets to fisting in his black button down. “You’re not there, you hear me?”
You nod because your throat is too tight to do anything else. Tears brim your eyes and Azriel wipes an escaped drop that drags down the apple of your cheek. His touch is too soft, too tender.
You pull away, ripping yourself from his hands. You turn toward the bed and don’t allow the dreadful recollection another thought. You slip between the sheets and try to hide your trembling movements by tugging the blankets all the way up to your chin.
You can feel Azriel’s presence behind you. You always can, whenever he’s in the room. It’s like the two of you are magnets. There is an attraction to him that you can’t place.
He knows that you won’t be sleeping now. That the harrowing memory of what you’ve been through lingers in the surface of your mind and if you should fall asleep, it will only haunt you worse.
Azriel’s known about your past, the terror that you’re trying so desperately to run from, to forget. It chases you like death is on your heels, ready to grip you with its bony fingers and drag you into the dark. He’s been briefed on how you might respond when the trauma inevitably claws its way back, but this is his first time experiencing it happening to you. How it grips you around the throat and threatens to consume you.
His jaw aches from grinding it so tight. The one thing that he can’t protect you from is the one thing he wants to protect you from the most.
He has a job, and this is part of it, he tells himself as he kicks his shoes off.  
“Shove over.”
“What?” You ask, confused. You peer over your shoulder to see Azriel shrugging off his jacket. It leaves him in a black t-shirt that clings to his body exactly the way you want to. You never thought you’d be jealous of a piece of clothing, yet here you are. You carefully tear your gaze away.
“You need to sleep and I know your stubborn, spoiled ass isn’t going to do it if I’m not doing it with you” he pauses. That sounded so fucking wrong, but Azriel trudges on. “So, shove over.”
You fight the smile that threatens to curve your lips at his comment. If it was coming from anyone else, you’d be offended, but you know that Azriel doesn’t mean it as anything other than a joke. You scoot further toward the edge of the bed, shivering at the cool sheets. Your goosebumps only prickle further when Azriel’s weight hits the mattress, and the warmth of his body washes over you.
You try not to let your breathing shallow as he settles himself in. He’s not even touching you, for Mother’s sake, and yet you’re responding as if you’re a teenager lying beside her childhood crush.
“Don’t think about it,” Azriel’s voice startles you.
You might smile at the rough demand in Azriel’s tone if you weren’t feeling like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to come up behind you and shove you off.
“Easier said than done,” you mutter. When the light flickers out, your body locks, and the memory explodes in your mind like a fucking gunshot wound.
“I said, don’t think about it.” Azriel’s voice is a gruff command in your ear, snapping you back into reality. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, and you can hear the struggle in your lungs as you try to gulp down what little air makes it through your constricting esophagus.
Hands wind their way around your waist and you don’t have a second to struggle before Azriel tugs you back into his chest, molding his body against your back. A warm, heavy arm is draped across your side, and his hand finds your shaking ones beneath the blankets, offering you a lifeline.
You clutch onto him. Azriel murmurs softly in your ear but you can’t make out the words. They’re in a different language. French or Italian or Spanish, you think. You sure that if he was speaking English, you still wouldn’t understand with the way that you’re focusing on fighting past the demons in your head.
The room is pitch black. You always sleep with a light on, even if it’s just the screen of your phone lighting up the darkness. You haven’t been in a blackened room like this since that night, and Azriel knows it, which is why, with some maneuvering, he turns on the flashlight on his phone and sets it on the bedside table, illuminating the room in an awful white light that has you all but melting into his body.
“Thank you,” you whisper. It sounds much too loud in the quiet of your motel room.
“Go to sleep,” he answers plainly. His bluntness almost makes you smile.
But you can’t go to sleep, and not just because of the lingering aftershocks of your memory. As those slowly eke away, you focus on the feeling of Azriel’s body pasted tightly against yours.
You swear you can feel every muscle that is packed onto his hard body through your clothes. Your ass is nestled against his front, and you want to wiggle oh-so badly, to writhe against him in the hopes of feeling what he’s working with down there.
He’s still fully clothed, you notice. Didn’t think twice about climbing into the bed behind you to console you. You wonder if he’s uncomfortable before realizing that with his military trained past, he must have slept in worse conditions than this before.
Which makes you cringe. Here you were, freaking out about a fucking motel when there are people who are going through much worse. Embarrassment flares your body and you squirm uncomfortably.
Azriel’s arms lock tighter around you, and he tugs you closer. You didn’t think there was a closer, but there is. His breath fans across your ear when he speaks. “If you keep moving like that, we’re going to have a lot more than a blizzard and stiff fucking sheets to worry about.” He sounds callous, but there’s a strain to his tone, one that has all of the fiery feelings in your veins converging between your thighs.
Your movements halt immediately. “Sorry,” you say, but there’s no sleeping now. Not when his words are out there, hanging in the air. That if you kept moving, you’d have a different kind of stiffness to think about. One that you’re much more interested in than the starchy sheets.
You close your eyes anyway, trying to fight off the interest stirring low in your gut. The image of Azriel naked, rolling on top of you drifts into your mind. Your pussy clenches when he slowly parts your legs and flashes you a devious smile before lowering himself between your legs.
Movement has your eyes jolting open. You’re holding your body so tightly that Azriel would be terrible at his job if he didn’t know that you weren’t asleep like you should be.
“Sleep,” Azriel reminds you brusquely. His hand splays across your stomach, his thumb stroking across the soft fabric of your shirt in a soothing motion, or what would be a soothing motion if you weren’t three seconds from creating the foulest dirty thoughts about him or two seconds away from actually doing something about it.
“Okay,” you breathe, trying to force annoyance into your words instead of the arousal that slips out anyway. Azriel’s thumb falters and you swear you feel something against the curve of your ass twitch. Your breath catches in your throat and now you know that the movement against your hind wasn’t a part of your imagination.
The noise you let slip has blood pooling into Azriel’s cock. He refuses to move, refuses to do anything except squeeze his eyes shut and practice the techniques he learned in the Royal Marines to keep himself in fucking check. He promised that after the kiss in the bathroom that he would keep away from you, that this relationship would stay professional only.
Professional feels so fucking far away from this.
You find the courage to whisper. “Azriel?”
He grunts in response, to let you know he’s awake and listening, and you like the sound all too much. “That doesn’t sound like sleeping.”
“I’m not sure that I can,” you admit.
Azriel sighs softly, his breath tickling your neck. “You didn’t even try,” he answers simply, but his fingers begin tracing a soft, soothing pattern across your forearm. You latch onto his hypnotic touch, wishing it would move further south. “Just think of better things. I’m here, and you’ll be alright.”
I’m here, and you’ll be alright. Because he’s your bodyguard, your protector, and he won’t ever let anything happen to you, mentally or physically.
You shut your eyes and think about those words, the soft touch from a man so callous and strong, long until you fall asleep.
251 notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 2 days ago
Text
Lovestruck
Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader
Word Count: 4.2K
Summary: Little do you know, after being in the wrong place at the wrong time- that you've gotten yourself on the radar of some very bad men. Thankfully, you now have the protection of one very good man (and Steve, also good) but when Javi first lays eyes on you he knows he wants so much more than just to protect you.
Author's Note: Again, I apologize for deleting this post a second time. The tags are just not cooperating. I really hope things work this time! Thank you again to those who gave me notes, hope you can enjoy again! No reason for more Javi other than I can't seem to get over him and I don't want to so yay! He's been on my mind extra lately. Wishing you all a very happy New Year filled with love, health and happiness! Thank you for all the support and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: lots of tension and flirting, some soft sweetness too, Javi is forward but not in a bad way, he saves the day in more ways than one and might be in a little over his head (which he's not used to), fingering, smut (unprotected p in v- but just for fanfic folks lol)
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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“Keep staring like that and you’re gonna blow our cover man.”
Steve’s comment goes unnoticed as Javi continues to do just that. Stare.
You’re standing against the bar, drink in hand and talking with your friend, unaware of the pair of dark chocolate eyes glued to you.
“Hey,” Steve says again.
Javi tears his eyes away from you and pins Steve with a glare.
“What?”
Steve gives him an exasperated look. “You’re not supposed to fuck her. Just protect her.”
Javi grunts before finishing off his drink, his eyes sliding back to you as you saunter over to the juke box.
He’s been watching you for days now, his infatuation only growing the more he learns the little nuances of your body and the brightness of your smile. Barely conscious of his feet moving and Steve’s disgruntled objections, he starts toward you, unsure of his intention but at this point, unable to stop himself.
You shuffle through the songs on the screen, chewing your lip with indecision. His teeth sink into his own bottom lip in response, wishing it were yours. As he gets closer, your startled gaze flies up to meet his.
Lightning rockets through his system. If he thought you were beautiful in the photos and from across the room, it’s nothing compared to what he sees standing in front of him now.
He takes a step closer. Talking to women is like second nature to him, yet he finds himself stranded in silence, second-guessing everything that pops into his head.
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And if he doesn’t speak soon, his closeness will begin to alarm you. Exactly the opposite of what he should be doing.
“I can’t let you do that,” he blurts out.
“Can’t let me do what, exactly?” you retort, turning to face him with a raised brow.
Your voice slides like silk across his skin and it takes him a minute to recapture his train of thought. He tilts his head toward the song on the screen of the juke box.
“Not that song.”
You smirk. “Elaborate.”
“Everyone picks that song. Aren’t you tired of it?”
You peek up at him, a laugh flirting around the edges of your mouth.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Of course,” he replies. He tries not to stare at your lips. “I like to dance so for me, something like…”
He leans in and starts to scroll through the song list, his warmth and scent sweeping over you in a magnetic wave.
He stops on a song you don’t recognize but when it begins to play the beat is lively and makes you want to move.
Your eyes meet his once more, humor lurking in their depths. “I like it.”
“Oh yeah?”
You nod and with a sultry smile over your shoulder you head back toward the bar and your friend, an extra sway to your hips that matches the music.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Steve says when Javi returns with a smug grin. “You could blow our cover.”
“How?” Javi asks before he motions for the bartender.
“I’m surprised you let a woman get to you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Are you just going to answer all my questions with more questions?”
The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts with his last string of words and he waits as Javi just looks at him blankly.
When the song ends Javi turns his attention back to you and he finds you watching him. Without a second thought he walks over.
He smiles at your friend then asks you, “what did you think?”  
“I liked it,” you tell him. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“I should definitely play another one then. And you should dance with me.”
He catches your sharp intake of breath and realizes you might be waiting for a significant other. He feels a sharp jolt of jealousy that surprises him.
“Are you here with someone?” he asks.
Your brow quirks at his growled-out question, but you answer anyway.
“Just my friend here,” and you motion to Samantha.
Relief washes over his expression.
“So why not dance with me?”
“I’m here to spend time with Sam,” you explain, even though you can tell she wants you to go dance with him.
“She can hang out with Steve,” Javi says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in Steve’s direction. “He’s loads of fun.”
“He’s cute,” Sam chimes in, giving Steve a little wave.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Javi says, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam.
“So, is that a yes?”
You look incredulous. “No. The only thing I know about you is that you like to dance.”
“What would you like to know about me?” he shoots back as he leans against the bar, looking more than comfortable.
“Nothing. I’m not dancing with you. In fact, how do I know you’re not some creep trying to abduct me.”
At your unintentionally keen words Javi gives up the battle with a smile. “I’ll get you dancing sweetheart.”
“We’ll see about that…”
“Javi,” he finishes and holds out his hand. “Javier Peña”
You hesitate a moment but then hold out your hand and give him your name-even though he already knows it.
“Pleasure,” he croons as he lifts your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.
Warmth tingles up your arm and down your spine, rendering you speechless for a moment. Samantha pulls you from your stupor when she nudges you in the side.
“Enjoy your night ladies,” he says but not before looking you straight in the eye and adding, “I’ll be seeing you again.”
When Javi is back at Steve’s side he sighs.
“What happened? She tell you to fuck off?”
Javi practically rolls his eyes. “Not exactly.”
“Well, hope you didn’t freak her out too much because we have a job to do.”
As the night goes on you catch Javi looking your way more than once and you find it hard not to look back. He doesn’t approach you again though and the disappointment you feel is unexpected.
By eleven pm Sam is ready to go so you say goodbye and go to use the restroom before heading out. The night air is damp with impending rain, and you jog quickly to your car, hopping in and setting your bag down on the seat.
You put the key in the ignition and turn it. Nothing happens. No lights. No sound. Nothing.
“SHIT!” you shout and hit the steering wheel. Is it your battery? A faulty starter?
You’re just about to dial Sam when you hear a light rap at your window. You jump but quickly see that it’s Javi and let out a relieved breath.
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You press the button to roll down the window.
“Problem?” he asks with a sideways smile.
“My car won’t start,” you sigh.
His lips turn downward. “Shit.”
“That’s what I said.”
“I can try to jump it if you want,” Javi offers.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
Javi pulls his car up close and starts to fiddle around in the trunk for the cables. Once he has everything ready you meet him by the hood.
“How come you were out here anyway?” you ask, watching as his long fingers make easy work of the clamps and wires.
“Just a feeling,” he says nonchalantly.
After following his directions and trying to start your car again you realize it must be more than the battery and let out a string of curses.
“Sorry sweetheart,” Javi says. “I’ll give you a ride home and you can deal with in the daylight.”
“I can just call Samantha.”
“You can, but it’s after midnight,” Javi says, looking at his watch. “I’m already here.”
You study him. His strong jaw, the dark hair that falls boyishly over his forehead, and the way the open collar of his shirt frames his long neck, the tempting hint of collarbone peeking out just enough to make you want to kiss it.
“Ok,” you say without further thought.
He opens your door and helps you out then waits for you to lock it before he opens the passenger door to his car.
“What about Steve?” you ask suddenly.
“Steve?” Javi repeats. “Oh, yeah. He’s fine. Has his own car.”
When he pulls up to your building he frowns when you don’t wait for him to open your door. You ride up the elevator in silence, the atmosphere between you feels charged.
You’d been more than willing to go up to your apartment yourself, but Javi insisted on walking you.
So, when the elevator opens you breeze out and past him, taking quick steps to your door.
“This is me,” you say without turning around.
You unlock the door and open it, stepping inside and setting your bag down. When you turn, Javi is filling the doorway, one hand on his hip and the other casually resting above his head on the frame like he owns the place.
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“I don’t live far. If you need anything…” He holds out a card, his name and number printed on it under the Police Department symbol.
“You’re a cop? You could have told me this earlier. I would have been less worried about you murdering me.”
“DEA agent,” he corrects. “And that was never my intention.”
Your eyes meet and you feel a frisson of heat at the intensity there.
“Well, thank you for the ride.”
“Anytime sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”
He throws you a wink and pushes away from the doorframe, his long legs taking him easily down the hall before he rounds the corner and disappears.
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The next morning you drag yourself out of bed and get ready to go about your day. Your thoughts are mostly occupied by Javi, and you’re almost done with your coffee before your brain registers the rest of the night and how your car failed to start.
“Shit,” you grit out. “Ughhhh.”
You think about calling Javi and asking him to take you back to the bar to get your car but then you think it might be asking too much after what he did last night. Instead, you call Sam, who is happy to come get you.
Your car is just where you left it and so is an unmarked cop car, parked right next to yours.
Javi steps out into the sunshine, a sleek pair of aviators perched on his nose and a smile on his face.
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“There you are sunshine. I was wondering when you’d be back to get your car.”
He walks close and nods a greeting to Samantha.
You stand there like a fish out of water, your mouth hanging open in shock.
“What are you doing here?” you finally ask.
He shrugs with a devious grin. “Working.”
“The bar is closed.”
Ignoring your comment he continues with, “you have someone to fix this?”
“You mean like a mechanic?”
“Yeah sweetheart.”
“I was just going to call the closest shop.”
He shakes his head, clearly not liking your idea. “I got a guy. Come on.”                 
Samantha leaves you with Javi and he takes you to the shop, helping you settle everything and getting you a good price.
“I hope it doesn’t take too long to fix,” you sigh. “But thank you for helping me out.”
“Anytime gorgeous…now how about that dance?”
“You’re still hung up on that?”
He raises his brows with a tilt of his head, his smile devious.
“Fine, but how am I getting back to the bar tonight. No car. Remember.”
“I’ll pick you up. Seven.”
With that he pulls up to your place and practically jumps out of the car before it stops, rushing around the hood to get your door before you can open it.
You step out and he reaches over you to shut it, trapping you against the car.
“Thanks again,” you whisper as you lean into him.
He dips his head, but you can’t see his eyes, so you reach up to pull the sunglasses off his face. He smiles, lifting his eyes from your mouth to meet your gaze.
You hang them on his shirt, the collar open like it always seems to be, and smooth your hand down his chest. He watches you intently, one hand sliding off the car to settle on your waist. He tugs you forward, lining your body up with his using his other hand to cup your cheek and brush a calloused thumb across your soft skin.
“I told you sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Anytime.”
With one final glance at your lips he slowly moves away and you’re thankful for the strong metal of the car at your back, keeping you upright.
With a steadying breath you peel yourself away and head toward your building, looking over your shoulder to find him leaning against the car, long legs crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed along his chest.
His glasses are still hanging from his shirt, and his hair is slightly messy from the breeze. Your eyes linger and he smiles, pointing his long finger in your direction when he says, “you’re mine tonight.”
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The knock at your door makes your breath catch in your throat.
“Be right there,” you shout.
You open the door and his hot gaze sweeps over you from head to toe.
“Hi Javi…”
Before the words are completely out of your mouth, he has you spun around and backed against the wall.
“Did you get all dressed up for me sweetheart?”
Biting your lip, you nod, loving the way your answer makes his eyelids lower; his breath quicken.
He dips his head and runs his nose along your neck with a deep inhale, then places a soft kiss just under your ear. His lips move across your cheek and stop just above your mouth.
“Ready to dance?”
Your knees nearly buckle underneath you, but his weight keeps you upright and you manage a nod.
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The bar is crowded but you and Javi find yourself an open space at the bar and order drinks. He stays close. A hand always at your back or on your waist and when he sits on the stool, placing his feet on the bottom bar, he pulls you between his spread legs.
Your hands land on his thighs and you dig your nails in.
He growls into your ear and smooths his hand up your spine, grabbing the back of your neck to drag your face closer.
Right when you think he’s going to kiss you, he stands and pulls you toward the juke box, scrolling through the songs until he finds the one he wants. He presses play and holds his hand out.
You place your fingers in his palm, and he closes his hand around yours. With an ease that steals your breath he tucks you against him as the music starts, slow and sultry. The way he moves his hips so sensually borders on inappropriate, but you can’t find it in you to care.
Instead, you lose yourself in the way he moves and the way he feels. It’s the best kind of foreplay and when the song ends you cling to him, wishing the music could go on forever.
You tuck your head against his chest, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your face to his. He’s grinning, and the way it exaggerates the lines around his eyes and softens the angles of his face makes a flutter erupt in your stomach.
A haze of electricity settles around you and you’re unable to look away. His eyes drop to your mouth and his warm breath fans your cheek as he bends, brushing his lips lightly across yours.
His moustache is soft but still tickles your skin and you want nothing more than to feel it along every inch of your body. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, and you whisper his name just before your lips meet.
But then his mouth is gone, and a rush of cool air fills the space between your bodies.
“Steve,” you say with confusion.
Steve stands next to you with a tight grip on Javi’s arm.
“We have to go. Now,” Steve says.
“Javi?” Your stomach is fluttering for a whole different reason now, nervousness and fear taking over.
“I’m sorry sunshine,” he says, wrapping you up in his arms. “I need you to go home. Right now.”
“But…” you start, clinging to him.
“Please,” he begs. “Just trust me. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
“I don’t have a car,” you sputter out.
“Here,” he says and reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his keys before dropping them into your hand. “Right home ok?”
“Ok,” you say while nodding your head vigorously. “But I don’t understand…”
“I know,” he says, grabbing your face with his hands. “I promise I’ll explain later.”
He stares at you, clearly torn between wanting to kiss you and having to leave. You make the decision for him and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, lingering long enough that when you pull away his eyes are still closed.
“Be careful,” you whisper.
“You too,” he says before jogging off with Steve, but not without looking back one last time.
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Back at your apartment you wait and pace the floor. There isn’t much more you can do and it’s driving you nuts.
By the time you hear the knock on your door it’s past midnight and you’ve fallen asleep on the couch. You wake with a start and stand on shaky legs. Thankfully, you have enough sense to check the peephole before opening the door.
On the other side stands Javi. His leather jacket hangs open and his hair is messy and hanging loosely in front of his forehead. He looks tired but otherwise ok.
“It’s me sweetheart,” he says quietly.
Your door flies open, and you throw yourself at him. He catches you and lets out a huffed laugh that quickly dies off when you slide down his body and move back, a clear invitation.
 His eyes rake down your body, lingering on the way your dress is rumpled and sitting high on your hips, exposing the soft skin of your legs. With an audible swallow he takes a step inside, and you shut the door with a definitive slam.
“Are you ok?” he asks.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
You can’t blink away from his steady gaze and your blood seems to vibrate. After a calming breath you point to the couch.
“I want to know what’s going on.”
He moves past you and takes your hand in his, tugging you toward the couch before he sits. You stand at the edge, waiting.
His head drops and he presses the palm of his hand to his forehead.
“I…you already know I’m a DEA agent.”
You nod.
“And Steve and I work together…we’ve been trying to bust this drug trafficking group for a while now and somehow you got on their list…”
“List?” you repeat, feeling your palms sweat.
He stands again and takes a tentative step closer.
“Yeah, wrong place wrong time type of thing and it got you on their radar. We got tipped off from one of our informants and Steve and I were put in place for protection.”
“So, all the flirting, the dancing…you’re only here because you’re protecting me? Not because…”
He holds up a hand to stop you.
“No sweetheart,” he says. “Well, I mean yes initially that’s all it was but then I saw you and like a dick couldn’t stay away and…I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
He looks up at you with pleading brown eyes.
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“Actually, that’s a lie. I wanted to take you home from the moment I first saw you and it took everything in me not to.”
You can see he’s starting to ramble, and you soften at the way he seems desperate to make you understand.
“I promise this has nothing to do with work…I want to be here…”
“Javi.”
“And you’re safe. I promise that too. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Javi.”
He opens his mouth to speak again but you press a firm finger to his lips. He goes silent and with your gentle push falls to the couch again.
Slowly, you climb over him, settling in his lap on top of his thighs. He stares at you, eyes shadowed, and adjusts his posture to set two large hands on your waist, warm and strong.
You lean in but he meets you halfway, crashing his lips to yours. His mouth is soft but commanding and he tilts his head, coming at you better somehow, and deeper, his lips parting, one hand wrapping around your hip to pull you flush against him, the other sliding up your neck, cupping your face.
You’re undone by the way his breath shakes against your lips and the quiet groans he strangles down when you sweep your tongue across his.
You roll your hips against him, but instead of bringing relief it only makes you wilder. His mouth chases your kiss, swallowing the sound you make when he rocks up, the thick line of his cock pressing exactly where you need him.
His hand roams up your back, around your ribs, cupping your breast while the other drags you down again, pinning you to his body. You’re rewarded with another groan, and another when you grind against him.
He doesn’t stop you as you reach for his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders before going for his shirt, one by one undoing the buttons until you feel the warmth of his skin along your palms.
His mouth is on your neck, his fingers curling around the strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder and lower, until your bra goes with it, and you’re bare to his mouth. He sucks and kisses and your fingers find purchase in his soft hair, pulling and tugging when he continues and his lips close around your nipple in a delicate bite.
With soft grunts into your skin, he encourages you to pull harder, moving with the gesture to where you want him. Rough and desperate hands sneak under your dress to slide your panties down.
“Sweetheart?” he asks into your neck, and you nod, because frankly, he has permission to do whatever he wants.
Long fingers wrap imposingly around your thighs and his palm slides back up, teasingly slow, his kiss still rough, and then his fingertips graze over you, slippery and hot for him. His mouth goes soft and overcome against yours before he pulls away a fraction, watching your face as he fucks you with one finger, and then two, achingly slow.
And you stare at his mouth, the way it shapes the groaned curses and then tilts upward in a smug grin when he presses a thumb to your clit, and you let out a low moan.
Under your impatient fingers, his pants are soon loose and down his hips and you slide yourself over him, coating him and teasing you both until you’re a fevered mess, kisses sloppy and biting, the head of him pressing into you.
It’s a slow, perfect torture. His focus is on your expression and the sounds you’re making. But then it goes from careful to starving the second he’s all the way inside you. His grip on you is bruising, the sharp, rhythmic gasps he makes making you feel out of control.
He stares down between your bodies, slowing to watch, moving to touch you, his thumb stroking.
“That’s it gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You want to hold back, make it last forever, but it’s too good. The pleasure hits you in a wave, his name falling from your parted lips and your body clenching around him until he captures your mouth and finishes with a lewd groan, slowing and holding you against his chest.
Your face falls to his sweaty neck and your fingers curl around his open shirt. After catching your breath, he gently brings your face to his, pressing his lips softly to the corner of your mouth and then running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip.
He lifts you off him, reaching for the tissues on the side table and helping you clean up. His actions are careful and gentle and once you’re settled he takes the blanket off the couch and drapes it over you before he wraps you in his arms and lays down.
You tuck yourself closer and kiss his neck.
“Javi?” you whisper.
“Yeah sunshine.”
“Will you stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, kissing your cheek.
His lips tease along your jaw and you shift to give him better access, feeling his cock stir against your stomach. When his mouth reaches your ear he tugs on the soft flesh, running a hand along the curve of your spine to pull you closer and whisper, “I didn’t even get to use my tongue on you. I hate not knowing how you taste.”
Your little gasp makes him smile and his kisses continue.
“But lucky for me,” he murmurs with a brush of his lips, “we have all night.”
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cameronsprincess · 11 hours ago
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thinking about… rafe buying you an anklet with his initial on it. saw this post and automatically went insane.
CW: smut! 18+ only! piv sex, praise, rafe kisses on your legs.
daydreams
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“hi baby girl, i got you something.” rafe says softly as he approaches you, a smile on his lips.
you sit up on the bed, tucking your knees underneath you as you smile back at him. “what is it?”
rafe reaches you in seconds, sitting on the bed, his large hands grab your legs, pulling them across his lap. he softly grabs at your right foot before pulling a black velvet box out of his front pocket.
he opens the box, revealing a beautiful silver anklet, a diamond encrusted “r” dangling from it. you smile brightly, watching as your boyfriend removes it from the box, unclasping it and gently putting it around your right ankle.
“perfect.” he whispers, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.
you moan against his mouth, moving to straddle his lap but he quickly tosses you onto your back, crawling on top of you and pressing his body weight into you. rafe kisses you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth, digging his fingers into your oversized t-shirt. he slowly slips the shirt up your body, finally breaking his lips from yours to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor.
his hands find your breasts, softly kneading them in his hands. he pinches your nipple, rolling the hardened bud between his fingers, pulling the sweetest sounds from you. you roll your hips into him, craving the feel of him inside you.
you push your hands between your bodies, running them down his t-shirt covered chest all the way down to his belt. your fingers fumble with the metal buckle and rafe pushes up off you, undoing the belt and pulling it through the loops of his jeans. he quickly pops the button, pulling down his zipper and shoving his jeans and boxers off.
rafe slides your panties to the side, lining his swollen tip with your entrance, running it through your arousal to coat himself in your wetness. he slowly pushes himself inside, the two of you moaning in unison as he buries himself to the hilt.
he grabs your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders as his hips begin thrusting into you. his pace was slow and steady, taking his time and making sure you felt every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of you. rafe tilts his head to the side, his lips kissing softly at your right leg as he fucks into you, whispering sweet praises between kisses.
“look so pretty with my initial on your body, even if it’s just a silly little anklet.”
you moan, straightening your head and staring into his eyes as he continues to slowly thrust himself inside you. “s’not silly to me, i love it.” you whisper back, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as rafe’s hips pick up in pace.
he grins down at you, bending your knee enough to where your ankle was lined with his face. he dips down, kissing at the spot where the diamond “r” was dangling, “m’glad you love it baby, now be a good girl ‘n let me take care of you, alright?”
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ehhhh. i don’t hate it! just thought this was hot ‘n cute!����🤞🏻
tagging some moots: @nemesyaaa @starkeysbabygirl @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @cameronwillow @oceandriveab @littlelamy @cherrygirlfriend @httpsdrewstarkey
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dxckgrxsonx · 11 hours ago
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Between his Teeth
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 2.1k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - Biting Biting BITING!! - Lil mention of choking - Unprotected Sex - Multiple Orgasms - (F) Receiving Oral - Possessive!Jason - Overstimulation - Swearing - Crying - Dirty Talk - Fluff at the End :) Notes: Happy New Year! it’s been awhile since i've posted anything of a decent length so um?? hi?? Not sure how im feeling about the quality of this but inspiration struck and here we are! i hope you enjoy <3
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MASTERLIST
**
Here's the thing: there are nights in Gotham where patrol slows down. It's not a regular occurrence, something more akin to an irregularity really–but it happens. And when it does you're faced with an interesting quirk, a personality trait most would consider concerning.
Or dangerous.
Jason Todd gets bored.
His baseline as standard is marked unnatural. The death of a child recognised and reversed. Murdered soul poured back into what feels like a brand new unmarked body–everything once recognizable to him lost by a pool of Lazarus green. A pool on some nights he can still taste like bile in the back of his throat.
Patrol slows down and Jason finds himself molar deep in something terrifyingly restless.
Sometimes, the fight never materialises and Jason, who's been fighting across two different lifetimes, doesn't quite know how to react in the face of it. There's always been a cathartic edge to combat, a catch and release that leaves him breathless and exhilarated all at once. Adrenaline is one hell of a defence mechanism, swells right up to the top of his head, and if there's no decompression at the end of it his skin buzzes, eyes glowing bright and haloed in Lazarus green.
And so when patrol gets slow, Jason seeks out the brilliance of release by fucking you absolutely stupid.
**
He’s got two stupidly talented hands and they’re touching you everywhere.
The base of your spine, the shivering curve of your waist, two fingers hooked into your smart mouth to wrench every little sound out of your chest. His cock is thick and heavy and every thrust into your spasming cunt burns like he’s tearing you open.
“Fucking Christ–” A heaving, half delirious whine vibrates against his fingers like a phantom echo of your voice and Jason grins when your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He grins because taking you to pieces like this is the absolute best, most unbelievably satisfying way to burn through the frightening magnitude of energy stirring in his veins. “Ugh shit! Are you coming again? You greedy little thing.”
He can feel you squeezing at his cock, your pussy clenched up so tight it’s almost like fucking his own goddamn fist.
Jason pulls his fingers from your mouth–the digits now dripping in spit–and curls them oh so sweetly around your throat. He tightens his grip, forces you to work for your breath and the drag of air under his palm forces blood to swell up to Jason's head.
He watches you carefully, catalogues the curve of your mouth, the way your eyes roll into the back of your skull, the bliss and trust you tuck under his skin.
Fingers flex tighter and your mouth moves but instead of words, he gets a low, drawn out moan.
“Of course you are. You just can’t help it, can you?” He pulls his hand up and away from your throat, grabs firmly at your chin, and you jolt like a live wire, eyelids fluttering, thighs shaking horribly around his hips. Pressing forwards, Jason grunts at how wet you are, the base of his cock ringed in your creamy arousal. “You can take it though. You will take it. Just for me, because you’re such a good girl.”
A broken noise drags up your throat and Jason gets the flaring urge to have something–fucking anything–between his teeth.
It's not the first time he's looked at you and clamped his jaw around the desire to mark you. The possessive flicker igniting something of near biblical proportion in his veins. You're something wonderful. A person he adores beyond measure.
There's times you look at him like he's everything and it makes him feel brand new, born into a universe where home is nothing but you and your two hands that have never once hurt him.
He thinks the urge comes from that, comes from the desperation of wanting to broadcast you as his, of never wanting to be apart.
Your head tips back, throat bare, and Jason doesn’t hesitate–not even for one single second–a feral sort of thing bubbling up from the bottom of his spine.
He bites you.
He bites you so hard your vision collapses in on itself, existence bursting into a kaleidoscope of colour.
Jason sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin above your pulse point and you choke as if he’s slipped a knife underneath your rib to steal your breath. You choke and you clench up so tight around his cock he can’t fucking move.
Your knees draw up in a desperate attempt to wedge between you, back arching into the bed. You twist your hips against his weight and you grab at his shoulders, his hair, nails scratching a long line down his back, but Jason simply renders you immobile, reminds you he’s buried balls deep in your pussy and has no intention of being anywhere else.
It’s not quite pain, but it’s a blunt sort of thing at the very edge of the scale and blood rushes up under your skin to greet each indent left behind. The sting of it detonates something permanent in your psyche, life unmoored between his teeth.
Jason pulls back and he licks at his teeth, there’s no blood, but the action alone makes you swelter nonetheless. You think it might be the look on his face, the flicker of something promising devastation in his eyes.
“Fuck you.” It’s your own voice, breathless, trapped between aggravation and arousal. “How am I supposed to cover that up?”
Jason drags his fingers down to your cunt and rubs at your fat, swollen clit. Every thought fractures apart in your mouth, vowels and consonants splintering into pieces that dissolve on your tongue. You know that’s what he wanted. You don’t care.
“You’re mine.” Jason says, like that in itself is an explanation. “You’re mine and no one else’s.”
The bite mark on your throat looks brutal even to his own eyes. A perfect match to every tooth in his mouth. Your skin is starting to puff up a little, irritation blossoming into a wicked bruise. Jason hums–mostly to himself–and fucks into you hard enough that there’s an obscene squelch of your pussy every time he bottoms out.
You’re perfect. You’re his. He wants you to come again.
“I can’t. Ah fuck! Not again–” The pitch of your voice climbs when his pace fails to falter, sticky fingers still strumming at your clit. He can feel it throbbing despite you coming twice already, and he wonders how many he can get out of you this time. “Jason–I don’t think…I can’t.”
“That’s it, empty that pretty little head of yours. You don’t need to think, y’just need to keep squeezing that sweet cunt around my cock, yeah? You’re so wet for me, and you know what that means?”
A sobs works free from your mouth, thighs clenching tight around his strong hips, each thrust into your peach flesh cunt makes Jason feel like he’s bursting out of his own skin. You close your eyes in the face of pure, overwhelming pleasure and he can see how wet your lashes are.
“Ugh–no don’t–” A whimper hooks into the back of your throat. “Don’t fucking say it.”
Jason grins, half wicked, even though he knows you can’t see it, “It means you like this, little bird. You might complain and try to get away, but your pretty little pussy can’t lie to me.” Your face screws up. Jason fucks you harder, his thick thighs smacking against your ass. He pauses his movements on your clit and listens to the pitch of your whine wobble in disappointment. “You want to come again, don’t you? Hm. No. You need to come again.”
“Nooo.” You try, embarrassment flustering up your neck. “I can’t. Please. S’too much.”
Your eyes blink open and Jason thinks it’s so sweet when you’re on the verge of tears whilst he’s fucking you. Your hands reach out to grab his shoulders, to search for comfort, and you cry out his name when he touches your poor, oversensitive clit. Jason licks at the mark on your throat, his tongue catching against the swell of your near broken skin and your cunt tries to force him out.
"Let me fuck your pussy, sweetheart. Don't push me out like that."
Another desperate cry when he forces your pussy to yield to his powerful thrusts and you suddenly gush around his cock. Wetness soaks his thighs and Jason huffs in amusement when he hears you heave in a strangled breath, then sob, tears streaming down your face.
You’ve never done that before.
By the time he’s finished–by the time he’s worked through the insistent pulse of pure restlessness and settled back into what he considers a post patrol, or postcoital haze–he thinks he’ll make you do that once more at least.
**
Jason quietly appears behind you the next afternoon as you glance in the mirror, gentle fingers probing at the huge mark splattered on your neck.
His approach is eclipsed by silence and you’re struck with the awe of how quiet he can be when he wants to. The talent and skill that must go into knowing how to plant yourself so no sound escapes your trajectory, it’s staggering, and slightly alarming.
You can easily trace the outline of Jason’s bite and there’s a heavy sort of discomfort when you touch it; the sensation of pressing on a bruise in the early stages of healing, not painful but heavy and aching, impossible to ignore.
The corner of Jason’s mouth twitches upwards when your face flickers into a slight flinch, almost like he wants to smile in a self-satisfied sort of way–how typical of him to find satisfaction in something that has you labelled as owned (loved) but you meet his reflection in the mirror and settle on a half-hearted scowl.
“You’re a real dick, Todd. You know that?”
Tugging the neckline of your hoodie up, you just barely manage to cover the mark.
“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re not wearing pants.” Jason points out, redirecting the conversation by eyeing you appreciatively. “And I don’t remember you complaining about it last night.”
Memory sparks-your own desperate, fucked out voice flaring to the forefront-and you feel heat splash up your throat.
Ducking your head to avoid Jason's stare seems like a good idea, but you know with absolute certainty that he'll request you look at him regardless–he might even press a finger under your chin to tilt your head up–all because he wants to watch you fumble over your words like an idiot.
“Yeah, uh–that’s because you fucked me stupid.” He grins wolfishly at that, then his eyes flash with either an idea, or interest. Both of which are dangerous. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing…don’t.”
Smoothing his hands from your waist, down to your hips, then the curve of your ass, Jason drops to his knees behind you. Your stomach swoops, the beat of your heart slipping temporarily out of rhythm. He hums thoughtfully and presses a kiss to the small of your back, then tugs your underwear to the side so one cheek is bare.
Confusion kicks up in your head, brain following one thread whilst Jason in typical fashion follows his own, “You've already eaten me out at least once today, for the love of fuck give me a break. Aren't you tired of eating me out?”
Jason positively growls.
"Don't ask me stupid questions." He grumbles, his tone nothing but a hard edge. "I'll never get tired of tasting your pretty cunt."
You figured that out already. Waking with his head between your thighs, talented tongue lapping at your swelling clit until you sigh his name so prettily, falling apart as he holds you open by sheer force. Reminded again when you settle down for lunch in the kitchen and Jason sits you on the counter so he can nose at your slit, mouth wrapping around your sensitive clit and sucking until you cry.
Sometimes he might as well be dating your pussy and not you.
You feel the warmth of his breath for a single, shining moment, "Then what the hell are you doin–"
He bites you.
On your goddamn ass cheek.
“There. Now you can’t complain because the only person who’s going to see that is me.”
Spinning around in retaliation you glance down and level Jason with a glaringly unimpressed look, “Yeah, congratulations. But you’ve failed to consider one very important thing.”
“No I haven't." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "What else is there to consider?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to sit down?”
**
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redeemingvillains · 3 days ago
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the new girl (pt.2) - mattheo riddle
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summary: you come to find that keeping your situationship with mattheo a secret is harder than you anticipated.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: suggestive content, 18+, please read responsibly my dears.
a/n: dedicated to the brilliant person who thought mattheo should be italian. i am kissing you.
ˋ°•*⁀➷ part one here
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Mattheo’s lips glided over your neck, alternating in a pattern of kissing and sucking that had your eyes fluttering closed as his hands wandered over your body.
“How long are we going to keep this a secret, bella?” he murmured against you without ceasing.
“Mmm, why? Aren’t you having fun?” you responded coyly, your own hands moving to untuck his shirt, to run your fingers over the firmness of his abs.
His body was electric for you and his mind wiped completely at the sensation of your touch as he pulled back to take in the vision of you, pinned against the wall, the way your heavily lidded eyes met his, unwavering, and the way you subtly pouted at the loss of contact, if only for a second before he kissed you hungrily.
“F’course I’m having fun” he mumbled against you. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you to my room every once and awhile, as nice as these accommodations are” he said, referring to the broom closet you were squeezed into.
“I got here three weeks ago and I’ve spent nearly every day since like… this” you said breathlessly as his hands wound into your hair, kissing you deeper.
“So?” he said, in the briefest pause.
“So I don’t want people to draw conclusions… I don’t want to get a reputation.”
“And what reputation would that be cara mia, hmm?” he asked as his hands wound down your body.
“That you have good taste?” he prompted, his fingers dancing over the waistline of your skirt.
“That you like a bad boy?” he continued, his voice huskier as his hand slipped beneath your skirt and you could feel the cool metal of his ringed fingers against the inside of your thigh.
Your body shuddered in response. I don’t want people to think I’m…easy you thought, even though you knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone else, but there was something about Mattheo was simply irresistible, eclipsing your every waking thought and you had a sneaking suspicion he felt the same way.
“Maybe we wait—” you started as his fingers brushed against you, exactly where you wanted them and your breath hitched “—a little while longer” you whispered.”
“Whatever you say, principessa” he said before losing himself in you.
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Mattheo was so fucking smitten with you he didn’t know what to do with himself.
He loved the thrill of your current… arrangement… how exhilarating it was trying to rile you up and keep you quiet at the same time as you snuck into broom closets, abandoned bathrooms and the deepest corner of the restricted section of the library to be together. You swore to him over and over again that this was totally out of character for you, that you never did anything like this before, and that drove him even crazier, knowing that he brought out a side of you that simply couldn’t get enough of him, especially because he felt the same way.
But despite the heady cloud of lust and adoration that seemed to carry him throughout his day, he couldn’t forget the words his friends had said about you that occasionally echoed in his subconscious.
 “She’s all anyone can talk about”
“I would take a bludger straight to the head for just a taste of that”
His palms curled into fists at the memory until he flexed and released them. His friends knew better than to run their mouths like that now, but he was quickly finding that only left him with the rest of the school to deal with.
In potions he could hear Cedric Diggory and Michael Corner talking about you, how hot you were, debating again if it was true that you had dated professional quidditch players, a question that kept resurfacing in a way that was beginning to bother him. He turned around to glare at them but when they caught his eye, he realized he had nothing to say and no reason to stop them, so instead he had to sit through the rest of the class nearly shaking with fury at their comments.
Then it was his teammates in the locker room before quidditch practice, placing bets on who would be the lucky guy to get with you first. He slammed his locker closed and stormed onto the field.
But it all came to a head when he passed you in the corridor, you breezed by each other, each surrounded by your group of friends and enough students that the burning gaze you exchanged with one another went completely unnoticed, even though he picked up the way you subtly bit your bottom lip at him, a tell he’d come to know as you being incredibly turned on. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw you over his shoulder right there as you passed by but then a voice reverberated in the hall.
“YN! YN!” it shouted and he turned to see Seamus Finnegan yell at you as you passed him by.
“Want to see my wand, beautiful? It’s solid oak and 12 inches long!” His comment was met with a host of laughs and jeers from other Gryffindors and you rolled your eyes in a way that made it seem like this sort of thing happened to you all the time. Mattheo’s blood was boiling and he realized he was creating a commotion all his own by the way he was standing still and staring at you in the crowded thruway, his face grimaced and the tic on his jaw evident. Your cheeks flushed at the look of fury on his face until one of your girlfriends pulled you away.
That night in the library, you traced your fingers over the ridges of his bruised and battered knuckles before your eyes flickered to his, doe-like and innocent as you batted your eyelashes at him.
“What happened?” you whispered.
“S’nothing” he said, gently pulling his hand from your grasp and moving to cup your face, desperate to touch you, to kiss you.
“Doesn’t look like nothing” you pressed.  
He shook his head, blowing the comment off and moving closer to you until you said, “And what might Mr. Finnegan look like at the moment?”
“Like he’s taking a good, long, fucking nap in the infirmary with a pair of black eyes” Mattheo said, his voice low and rough.
And before you could comment, he added, “And I don’t want to spend another minute with you hearing another bloke’s name on those lips” as he kissed you firmly, seductively and grasped your face in his hands.
And then you were awash with him again, adrift in the sensation you’d come to crave from him, dripping with an air of possessiveness that had you coming apart faster than you had any time before.
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You rode the high of Mattheo knocking someone out in your honor for days. The perfect combination of the way he lavished you and equally had such a capacity for violence excited you, thrilled you.
Your mind was drifting in and out of thoughts of him as you re-applied your lipgloss in the bathroom when you heard Pansy Parkinson and Astoria Greengrass chatting a few sinks over.
“Are Nicole and Mattheo still hooking up?” Astoria asked, catching your attention.
“She said he’s been ghosting her” Pansy replied. “Why, you want in on that?” she joked.
“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it, haven’t you? You heard what she said about him.”
“Gods yes” Pansy agreed. “Maybe send him a little pic, you know he can’t resist that.”
They brushed by you and you realized your hands were shaking as you gripped the sink in front of you so tightly your knuckles were white.
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That night Mattheo noticed something decidedly different about you, the way you twirled your tongue with his, the way you ran your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and sent shivers up his spine, like you were trying to tell him something without words, until finally your hands were on his belt and you pulled back from his lips for just a moment.
“Maybe this doesn’t have to be a secret anymore?” you said quietly.
His heart leapt in his chest, whether at the precarious position of your fingers at the present moment or the words you’d said, he wasn’t entirely sure.
“I’m not complaining, but why the sudden change of heart?” he asked.
You pouted and fidgeted and he realized there was no facial expression you could make that didn’t make him want to do absolutely sinful things to you as he kissed your pouted lips, turning them into a smile.
“Hang on. This doesn’t have anything to do with Nicole and Astoria getting expelled today, does it?" he said, a smirk blossoming on his lips in revelation. "I heard they had a bag of weed and a load of enchanted quills in their rooms.”   
Your eyes glinted as they flickered to his and you tugged him closer to you by his belt, softly biting your bottom lip as you shrugged halfheartedly, daring him to say more.
I fucking love this girl he thought clearly.
“If me spending every night on my knees for you wasn’t clear, cara mia, I am absolutely mental over you. And I’d love nothing more than for every girl in this school to know it, to know that I’m yours. Va bene?”
“Molto bene” you said, drawing the words out against his lips as you enveloped them, the sound of his native language coming from you demolishing him as he pulled you tightly against his chest.
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