#the facade is wearing out too

[valla-chan]

.

[wickmitz]

I decided to start talking about Wick and Rocky's relationship because I like their dynamics too, I like seeing Wick scared of Rocky and Rocky being aggressive with him, which is unusual because Rocky is rarely aggressive with anyone, but of course Wick is an exception to rule

Also my mini opinion about their possible relationship, I think that if Rocky didn't have to fight for his place, then he and Wick could become friends, or at least tolerate each other a little, I also see some superficial similarities, their gentlemanly and romantic natures, and their common love for explosions (remembering the quarrymen chapter), but this is my assumption, I think that I don't understand the characters' personalities well, so I can be wrong in this assumption, something like that. So, what do you think about their relationship?

for starters, i cannot thank you enough for this ask! as i’ve said previously, i have many thoughts on these two, so it’s nice to finally be able to share some of them. although given the extent to which i think about them, i apologize in advance if this is sloppy and sort of everywhere … while i’ll try to structure things the best i can, i cannot promise i’ll succeed! but hopefully this is an enjoyable reply nonetheless.

one of my favorite things about rocky and wick’s relationship is absolutely how aggressive rocky is towards the aristocrat ; he is prone to glares and cruel jokes and borderline hissing whenever the man is within his line of sight, or can be brought to a wailing-fit over the mere mention of his name from miss m’s mouth. there is a childishness to it, but a very prominent threat as well in spite of rocky’s usual incompetence. so he goes out of his way to posture around wick, readily lying and adorning himself with the gangster drapes he so badly wants to wear, in the hopes that it intimidates … will even badmouth wick’s family and make fun of his name and rock related obsession to mitzi, and so on so forth! yet all of this is very reminiscent of schoolyard bullying rather than anything too severe, though we as the audience understand rather quickly that rocky would bash wick’s head in with a tire iron if he could. ( translation : if it wouldn’t earn the tears or hate of a certain beloved mitzi may ) and it’s all very intense despite the absence of actual violence! and i understand why many fans see this as unusual for rocky and believe that it’s only wick who makes him act so aggressively, but i’d argue it isn’t really wick at all that prompts such scary reactions from him … and that rocky is a deeply angry character who’s a.) been boiling quietly for a long, long time and b.) has turned wick into a punching bag of sorts for this inner world of resentment and hurt. basically, when he’s judging the well-to-do or poking fun, his eyes don’t look at wick and actually acknowledge him as sedgewick sable ; instead this is a being, something vague and metaphorical, who threatens to upseat rocky’s permanence in the lackadaisy and steal away his savior, and he’s had a hand in the violinist’s misfortune for a long time.

obviously, rocky doesn’t think wick robbed him of his family twice over and made him homeless, but he is channeling the fear and anguish of those events into his loathing for wick, if that makes sense? it’s easier that way -- to finally have an outlet for everything bleeding inside of you, to be able to bite and claw at something without feeling conflicted or having to take personal accountability for your own mistakes … which is something that i think rocky does struggle with to a degree. he is sort of a finger pointer! his pain has to be worth something, it has to be for someone else ; spending years homeless and losing his last bit of family was for freckle, and the scrambling of his literal brain was for mitzi, and that means he can’t ever be angry with them! well, except that he is, somewhat, but he buries it deep down instead of feeling it. with freckle there is a sense of strain between them -- an air of ‘you owe me’ from rocky to freckle as he uses freckle to appease miss m, and he constantly pokes fun at his cousin too. it’s lighter than his jabs at wick, but there’s a constant pestering, a reminder of how good freckle has it : how he’s got the mom and the house and the job and the girl most notably. i don’t think rocky is intending to come across as mean, and to his credit he hardly does! but it’s rather clear to me that some part of him, some hidden and deeply hurt part, is rather indignant about taking the fall for freckle all those years ago. which he can’t understand, because how could he? he made that choice, he decided to take accountability for something he didn’t do because he loves freckle and knows it’d be so easy to believe this family tragedy was roark’s fault ; the devilish child he was, all troublesome and too broken to properly fit anywhere. so there is a disconnect born here, where rocky can’t comprehend that he’d be angry at freckle, so instead these not so great feelings are placed elsewhere and silently boil over time. and with mitzi … i don’t think he’s angry at her per se, but there is a frustrated and desperate chorus of : why him and why not me, when i’m the one out here dying for you? which is certainly unpleasant. of course, rather than allowing those feelings to be more aimed at miss m, whom he feels unloved by, he ( again! ) represses these emotions and allows them to fester into his greatest fears and fantastical complexes. i think there is a lot of other miscellaneous anger he could have towards others too … perhaps some part of him is sore upon seeing ivy’s normal lifestyle, watching her go to university and knowing that’s been taken from him. or an ache felt when hearing stories from zib and the band and how they used to travel successfully, living as nomads, and rocky is all too reminded of his similar lifestyle and how he couldn’t make it work as effortlessly. people with immense trauma are more prone to irrational anger and jealousy, to viewing everything around them as unfair and believing it’s even more unjust that so many people get to live comfortably while they’ve suffered. a situation that gets more messy when you’re someone like rocky, a man who’s willingly made choices that have harmed himself and wants to continue on with his smiling, bumbling fool of an act. he does not want to be angry, does not want to see it within himself, i think, which leads to an accidental increase of it.

all of this is to reiterate that wick is a scapegoat for rocky and nothing more. it’s why he’s rather hypocritical whenever it concerns the man. for example, it was stated by tracy that he looks down upon wick for his excessive presence at the bar, yet he appears to enjoy hanging out with zib -- who drinks just as often! he makes fun of how all wick ever talks about is rocks, when he himself is prone to poetry rambles that people find irritating or boring, and etc etc. this is also just a human nature thing, to critique someone you heavily dislike and even going as far as to belittle things you love or do in your own day to day because you just hate them that bad! but given rocky’s willingness to befriend anyone, it more so reeks of a dehumanization element. wick is every obstacle in his way, every divine force that threatens to send him packing again, so he is equal parts unnerved by wick’s presence and angry about it. it is mostly a fear response we are seeing, an emotion that’s morphed into long held resentment and anger. so his actions are extremely defensive, with him trying to push wick far away and keep him and mitzi separate, like some sort of animal attempting to ward off a threat that’s come too close to their home. despite the loaded animosity there, this hate has hardly reached its peak … but it shall only grow more intense as things continue onward i’m afraid, since as it stands ( in the comic at least ) rocky is at an all time low … and is ten times more desperate. i’d honestly say wick has become so warped in his mind’s eye that he can only strive towards ‘winning’ over the other man, because that’s all he can see anymore. i think mitzi implying that wick willingly helped her out, the intense head injury, and rocky’s fragile emotional state is exactly what pushes him towards premeditated murder in look-see. i don’t know how people perceive that arc, but to me it’s very clear that rocky actively sought to see the deaths of wes and fish that night. going as far as to lament that he’d be, “very disappointed if ( he ) dreamed them,” and purposefully luring the marigold duo away to have freckle pick them off. while you could argue that this was a smart move, in a gangster sort of sense, there’s still no denying that rocky is oddly chipper about the whole thing and is now seeking death out ; whereas before his methods of vengeance were just, well, ruining people’s livelihood but ultimately leaving them alive. this isn’t to discredit the fact that rocky is going through something! he is in a very muddled and dark place, mentally and physically, but even tracy has said that the head injury hasn’t changed rocky’s personality -- it’s only brought things to the surface.

source : q&a with tracy .

which, yeah! makes sense! head trauma can cause a person to become a wreck emotionally ( think mood swings, irritability, etc ) but it doesn’t completely morph someone either. personality changes may occur, but it’s not like you’re being rewritten entirely, you know? and given tracy’s old statement, it’s clear that ‘personality changes’ aren’t a side effect he’s suffering from. something that adds to my beginning statement, which is that rocky is a deeply angry and troubled person, more so than fans give him any credit for.

however, to touch upon your mini opinion about these two, i actually wholeheartedly agree that rocky and wick could become friends if circumstances were different. they do in fact have many superficial similarities, but one of the more prominent things they deeply share is never really belonging in the groups they frequent. this is more overt with rocky’s character, yet wick faces it too in subtle ways. the well-to-do crowd, seen through the investors, find the gentleman to be lacking in about every place imaginable ; to them he is an obsessive freak who cares too deeply for meager rocks, something they constantly mock him for, while he’s also being noticeably set apart from the rest of them … he seems younger than the investors, more excitable, passionate, and a little less experienced, and doesn’t seem to care for money or reputation as much as them either. there is a constant rubbing between him and them, where what he enjoys is seen as wrong, such as his love for the lackadaisy and his choice in paramor, a grieving widow with extremely dangerous ties. we also know that wick doesn’t have many friends at all, with the only two he has being lacy and church ( church is listed as such on his character profile, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek way ), both of whom work for or with him. they are obliged to hang around, and while they care in varying ways, they are prone to judging him just as much. honestly, it’s not shocking that wick seeks refuge at his chosen speakeasy! but even there he is rather distant from everyone else. he doesn’t speak to zib ever in the comics, nor seems all too close with viktor, ivy, or horatio … it is merely mitzi he is close to, even if he knows of the other people who work there. and, once again, wick very obviously doesn’t fit in. he is not gangster material, could never be an atlas may replacement, much less someone who could get his paws dirty in such an active way. so he has his feet in two different worlds and doesn’t know how to fit into either of them, or which one he actually wants to fit into more. i think in many ways rocky could relate -- these are two very lonely people who wish to belong somewhere and be accepted by some group or another but go about it in all the wrong ways. wick, who is too hesitant to fully commit to what he wants and is worse off for it, and then rocky, who obsessively throws himself against what he wants until he breaks every bone in his body. they also have explosives to bond over, lol, and other miscellaneous things like their taste in women i suppose … but this potential bond adds to the tragedy of lackadaisy, where we see two people who on every level should get along but we’re burdened with the knowledge that it’s an impossibility anyway, because there’s no removing the circumstance of which they’re in.

though i like to believe that despite wick’s fear of rocky, he maintains a kindness towards him regardless. i think his worries about rocky are rather surface level … he doesn’t know the boy at all, really, and thus can’t make heads or tails of him, hence him believing the lie in balderdash. so when i’m feeling particularly self indulgent, i like imagining a world where they’re forced together and sort of ‘stuck’ together ; to which rocky finally breaks and exposes his wounds to wick, in every sense of the word, and wick finally gets him. the aggression, the possessiveness of mitzi … it is all fear and desperation and a profound sadness, things he’d sympathize with. if rocky was able to explain that he loathes wick because if he saves the lackadaisy then mitzi won’t need him anymore and that it’s not fair that wick gets to so easily fix things when rocky would give his soul for his home, for her, and how wick could render every sacrifice he’s already made for naught by smoothing things over with some greenbacks and he can’t lose this, he just can’t --! … which, well, wick is too kind of a man to be able to do anything except feel awful, even though it’s not his fault at all. here we have two people who could coexist! and they should, since rocky logically can’t do every speakeasy job ( band member, rumrunner, mitzi’s shadow, also the guy who gets the money for the hooch ) by himself, just like how wick can’t save the lackadaisy with only his cash and limited booze stash. it’d be a joint cooperation, a collaboration between them, both equally important in the grand scheme of crime’s every turning wheel … but rocky’s rage and fear won’t let him see that, and likely never will. still, in scenarios where everything ends up alright for the lackadaisy and the people involved in it ( which is not how canon will go, by the way ), i fancy wick and rocky getting better within their relationship. rocky will always be prickly and quick to upset around the other man sadly, but perhaps he could see wick in a softer kind of light. or at least understand vaguely enough that he isn’t out to get rocky, so to speak. and then maybe wick learns that pancakes soothe rocky’s ire and poorly makes them anytime he wishes to talk to the man, and other fun things like that! but you should have more confidence in your character analysis skills, because you were spot on ( at least in my eyes ) about them potentially getting along if things were different. it’s certainly a fun aspect to play around with, and is important to note when discussing their relationship so you can fully understand just how warped rocky’s perspective on things are. and how unstable and traumatized he is too, of course </3 sidenote, but i also hope that throughout everything i’ve said here, or anything i’ve said before on my blog, that my love for rocky and my own sympathy for him comes across well enough. while he’s deeply flawed and i have no qualms discussing said flaws in depth, i also don’t think of him as some insane freak who’s evil at his core or anything like that. honestly, i adore analyzing him so much as a character because of how far down his issues go! he’s very well written, i’ll say, as is wick and many of the other characters, but i digress.

once more, thank you for the ask! i’ll end this here because i fear if i don’t i’ll start going in circles, since their relationship is so vast and very important for rocky in a character sense. hopefully i shed some more light on it though! i love these two to bits and pieces and i wouldn’t be half as invested in lackadaisy if their dynamic wasn’t so monumental -- at least to me.

[triglycercule]

in a just kidding kinda mood. canon nightmare is so serious and then i made her. she's a total dweeb she thinks that she's allat just because she ate a black (rotten) apple once and it was so bad she thinks she she's a goopy monster. that's not actually how she got to this (she got bullied in elementary school and wants to express her true self now in high school) but the black apple was involved (she ate a rotten apple and it was so bad she remembered her embarrassing elementary school fantasy and realized she liked it).

she's totally goth but she doesn't realize it (and i CANNOT be bothered to draw a goth esque outfit combined with the jk uniform). the book club is her headquarters and whoever joins the club becomes part of her gang (friends! because she's terrible at socializing and this is a way of being more outgoing) and then they have to do usual stuff goons do like helping nightmare study for tests (so she can further her insatiable quest for knowledge) and going to the mall with her (carrying her bags obviously. a queen cant be seen with shopping bags.) her goons MUST call her lady night or else she'll get upset. god jk!nightmare you're such a goddamn loser how many more dumb ideas can i come with for you

comments from..... oeople??? here's dream. they're on good terms because i hate dreamtale angst and i want them to be happy and healthy siblings. nightmare also uses her gang to moniter dream and make sure she's not getting in trouble. but then she also gets to play villian with dream where dream is the damsel in distress. or the hero. depends!

"well, one day nighty just came downstairs for breakfast dressed like... that. she spoke in a different way and acted different and especially looked different. needless to say, the family and i were confused."

"but, after she explained it, it actually made a surprising amount of sense despite the... change. nighty used to get bullied back in our old elementary school, and she claims that now that we're in high school, she wants to "embrace the true self that's been whispering pleas of freedom". er... whatever that means."

"of course i support it, she's my sister and all! i'd even say this persona of nightmare's is much funnier to interact with, and she's even made some friends thanks to her new self of the sort. honestly, as her sister? i couldn't be more happy to see nightmare thriving compared to before."

"but my only concern... is her makeup safe for long-term use?"

all of the mtt (most of the school actually) did NOT fall for the little act nightmare's putting up. even killer. no matter how brainrotted she is from the internet even she wouldn't fall for that. nightmare invited them to the gang (club) and both killer and dust were on board to join. because killer found her funny and dust likes books. and then horror was dragged along because of course she was. live laugh love jk!mtt

"nightmare?? oh, you mean lady night! yeah, i know her. pretty well, in fact~ she's appointed me as her right hand woman, which means i get to do all sorts of cool things, like coming up with literature recommendations and organizing when the gang meets up! she's pretty cool, y'know? i just gotta make sure to stop laughing whenever she calls me a "goon", hehe..."

"nightmare's nice. she likes reading, i like reading, so obviously i had to join the gang. she likes more fantasy style stuff, but i prefer sci-fi. not that big of a deal though, considering we read a variety of books in the clu- i mean, her "gang". sorry. don't tell her i said that, or else i'll be sent on a "mission" to "battle her homework" or whatever."

"oh, "lady night", "queen of negativity"... she's hilarious. it's so funny seeing her act like she has magical powers and all the yada yada about "the black apple" and "multiversal conquering". i mean, not many people in the school really believe her little schtick she's got going on, but most humor her. 'sides, she's a genuinely good person under all that makeup and acting anyways, so i like her. all i wanna know is, why does she keep her shoelaces untied?"

this idea is SO DUMB IM DYING. feared multiversal terror turned into a high school girl with the worlds most EMBARRASSING delusion. what universe are we in (the jk!universe dummy!). anyways dream design in the works (i already have the design done just need to color it!) and then quite possibly more aus will be jk-fied. ink may possibly be the first sans to NOT wear a skirt. who know,,,,s,,,,,,

[yaoianimeremade]

Soon im rly gonna do it

[poptartmochi]

i think that i will never be able to rid myself of Magdalena, despite my disdain for her source material, because she's just such a fun little inversion character 🤧

[winxanity-ii]

SACRILEGIOUS DEVOTION [1/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: So, Father Charlie is out here losing all his morals and sanity on Grotesquerie and my mind couldn't help but match it, so what's a better idea other than channeling all the religious trauma/journey into a spicy one-shot? i for one feel like it's a mini-therapy, but enough rambling, enjoy 😩🫶🏾 i'm in love with a holy man, mother 😔…. second part: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Father Charlie Mayhew was a sick man.

Not in the manner of flesh, but of spirit. He could feel the sickness festering in the quiet corners of his heart, a sinful yearning that had taken root there, twisting itself around his thoughts like creeping ivy.

It was a sickness that, he believed, made him a grotesque parody of the holy man he was meant to be. For how could he call himself righteous, devoted, when every whisper of prayer felt stained by the way his eyes followed you, Sister ____?

You were a vision of purity, an embodiment of the kind of gentle devotion that Father Charlie envied and craved all at once.

He watched you from a distance, always careful not to draw your gaze, afraid of what you might see if you looked too deeply. How dutiful you were, sweeping the church aisle with a focus that made him forget the dust and see only the graceful motion of your hands.

The sun, filtered through stained glass, seemed to seek you out, casting colors on your habit as if to mark you as someone far beyond his grasp, almost holy in your mundane tasks.

It was in the mornings, when he heard the soft chime of your laughter in the courtyard as you fed the pigeons, that he felt the deepest sting of his wretchedness.

The world seemed simpler in those moments, your laughter echoing off the stone walls, the warmth of early sun painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He wondered if you knew how your kindness drew even the animals to you, their heads dipping into your palms as if receiving communion.

There was a stillness to you, a gentleness in every gesture.

The worst of it was during your services. Father Charlie had seen you on your knees before, hands folded in earnest prayer, your lips moving softly as you whispered your devotion to God.

He would stand at the back of the chapel, watching with a mixture of awe and something far darker. He told himself it was admiration, but the truth festered beneath that facade.

It was longing, a hunger that ached at the edges of his soul.

A storm raged outside the convent one evening, winds battering the church walls with a fury that mirrored the tempest building in his chest. The clouds were bloated, dark as his thoughts, and thunder rolled across the sky with a violence that shook even the faith he held so dear.

You had come to his chambers in the dead of night, your knock barely audible over the howling wind. He had been preparing for bed, freshly out of the shower, wearing only his boxers when he heard you at the door.

The creak of the old wood seemed to echo forever as he opened it, and there you stood, eyes wide, looking so impossibly fragile in the dim candlelight of the corridor. Your modest night slip clung to your form, the thin fabric shifting in the draft that sneaked in from the hallway.

Charlie's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you, innocence incarnate, seeking refuge with him.

He hesitated for only a moment before allowing you in, quickly wrapping himself in a silk robe that hung loosely on his shoulders, barely tied. He knew he should not let you enter, but there was something in the way you looked at him—so trusting, so devoted—that made him abandon every rational thought.

You had come asking to pray with him, your soft voice trembling as you spoke. The storm outside seemed like a reflection of the turmoil within him as he let you step past the threshold, closing the door behind you.

Now, you were here, kneeling before him, your eyes upturned and wide, waiting for his command, for his instruction like the obedient servant of God that you were.

Your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts, a gentle, "Father...?"

Charlie could only lament to himself how sinfully pure you looked. He hummed softly, his eyes dark as they trailed over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the delicate line of your neck.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across your skin, highlighting the innocence that made his hunger all the more unbearable.

"Yes, forgive me, Sister. Let us now pray," he finally said, his voice low and rough, the words nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind outside. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead, and you leaned into the touch without hesitation, your eyes closing as if his hand was a blessing.

He swallowed hard, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the forbidden desires he had tried so desperately to keep buried.

He began to pray, his voice low, raspy, each word a struggle against the chaos inside him. "Heavenly Father, we come before you tonight..." But the words felt hollow, their meaning slipping away as he watched you, kneeling so obediently at his feet.

His eyes darkened, wandering further down, tracing the lines of your form. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath—it all seemed to pull him further from the sanctity of the moment.

He should have been thinking of God, of salvation, of the purity of the prayer—but instead, he was thinking of you, of the way the thin fabric clung to your skin, the soft curve of your breasts visible through the modest slip.

He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the delicate line of your collarbone, the way it rose and fell with each breath you took.

The more he spoke, the less the words mattered. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his body, his thoughts growing more erratic, each word of the prayer slipping further from its sacred meaning, twisting into something profane, something filthy. "Protect us from all evil..." he whispered as he traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, the words a bitter irony as he felt himself drawn further into the darkness of his desires.

His hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a hunger that he could no longer deny.

He could almost see the curve of your bare skin beneath the thin fabric, the outline of your body that he should not be imagining. He tried to focus on the prayer, but every word felt like a lie. He let out a shaky breath, the prayer faltering on his lips. "Guide us... guide us in your light," he managed, his voice thick with the weight of his longing.

The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if to warn him, but Father Charlie could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears as he looked down at you, so trusting, so willing.

As the final words of the prayer fell from his lips—"Amen"—you echoed him, your voice soft and unwavering. You blinked open your eyes, looking up at him with such innocence and Charlie felt himself slip past the point of no return.

He knew that no amount of prayer could ever cleanse him of what he wanted, that he could no longer pretend, no longer fight against the pull that drew him to you—the sweet, precious nun who had unknowingly captured his very soul.

Father Charlie stood, his robe slipping slightly from his shoulders, exposing the toned muscle beneath. The wind howled outside, and thunder bellowed again, followed by a flash of lightning that lit the room in a brief, startling blaze of white.

You were still kneeling before him, your wide eyes following his every movement, the flickering light casting you in both shadow and radiance.

Charlie bent at the waist, his fingers reaching out to cup your jaw, thumb caressing your bottom lip as his half-lidded eyes trailed over your face. "Sister ____," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of affection, his name for you almost reverent, as though you were something sacred, something he could worship in his own unholy way.

You blinked, shifting slightly beneath his touch, a soft stutter escaping your lips. "F-Father...?"

He grasped one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around yours, and as he stood, he gently urged you to rise with him. His gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and full of something raw. He began to speak, his voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy with confession. "As a man of God, there are expectations placed upon me," he started, his tone wavering between remorse and something darker, something that made his grip on your hand tighten. "I am meant to guide, to protect, to remain steadfast in my faith."

His other hand moved, slowly pulling your trembling hand against his bare stomach, pressing your palm against the hard planes of his abdomen.

You gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your hand trembling beneath his. The heat of his skin burned into your palm, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Charlie continued, his voice lowering, growing more intense as he spoke. "But these days... these days, Sister, I find myself at war. At war with desires that threaten to consume me..." His words trailed off, and he let out a low hum as he rubbed your hand across his stomach, the movement slow, deliberate.

Your hand hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his skin making you tremble as you instinctively pulled back. But his grip was firm, guiding you back, and slowly, tentatively, your fingers splayed across his stomach, your touch feather-light.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering down before you took a timid step closer, as if drawn by some invisible force. Your gaze shifted to the side, your cheeks warming with embarrassment at the proximity, at the way you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.

Father Charlie's eyes never left you, and he could see every ounce of hesitation, every flicker of uncertainty that danced across your face. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against your forehead as he spoke, his voice a low murmur, "There's no need to be afraid, Sister. You are safe here... with me."

You blinked, your lashes fluttering as you dared to look up at him, your eyes meeting his through the veil of uncertainty.

There was something in his gaze, something dark and magnetic that pulled at you, made your pulse race. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw; the touch almost comforting, but there was an intensity behind it that made you shiver.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to speak, your fingers trembling slightly against his skin. He smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips, and he hummed again, satisfied with your silent answer.

His other hand moved to rest against the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, his robe parting further, exposing more of his chest.

Your breath hitched as you felt the distance between you closing, the way his body seemed to envelop yours. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the storm of emotions and the strange, electric pull you felt toward him.

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watched you. You felt your pulse quicken, your knees weakening under the intensity of his gaze.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and something darker, something that made your heart pound even harder. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your body react, leaning in just slightly, as if craving more of his warmth, his touch.

His fingers trailed lower, coaxing your hand along his body, and you felt the tension, the desire in every muscle. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a husky whisper, "Let me show you, Sister ____... let me show you what devotion truly means."

He kissed you then, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. His mouth moved hungrily, tasting, devouring, and you felt his tongue lick into your mouth, coaxing a soft, surprised whimper from your throat. His groan vibrated against your lips, the sound raw and desperate.

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the sheer need in his kiss.

You pulled back, gasping for air, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss. He didn't give you a moment to recover; his lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.

He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, to make your knees weaken beneath you. The heat of his mouth trailed down, his tongue flicking out to soothe each small bite, and you felt your body trembling, a warmth pooling low in your belly.

Charlie's hands were relentless, holding you steady as your body threatened to give out, your knees buckling as his mouth worked against your skin. He pulled back only long enough to whisper your name, his voice thick with something between reverence and hunger.

Before you knew it, he had scooped you up, his arms strong and sure as he carried you towards his bed. Your breath hitched, your fingers clinging to his robe as he moved, each step filled with purpose.

He set you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His eyes roamed over you, dark and filled with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Father Charlie moved quickly, his hands deft as he pushed your slip off your shoulders, the fabric sliding down your skin and pooling around your waist. His lips followed the path of the falling slip, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your shoulders, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

You shivered beneath his touch, the cool air of the room prickling at your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling in response.

His eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he let out a low groan, his hands running along your bare arms, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "You're like a goddess," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and lust. "Perfect. Untouched. A temptation I can't resist." His lips found your collarbone, kissing, nipping, his words vibrating against your skin.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, trailing down the center of your chest, his hands spreading across your back, urging you to arch into him. His kisses were relentless, each one making your breath catch, making your body react in ways that felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.

You couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, unsure of what to do, where to touch.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He pushed you back against the bed, guiding you to lie down, his hands never leaving your body, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't bear to be without contact. He looked down at you, splayed out before him, your slip barely covering you, and he licked his lips, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin.

"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dripping with a mix of adoration and hunger. "So innocent, so pure... and all mine." He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands working the slip further down your body, baring you completely to him.

The cool air made you shiver, your body exposed, vulnerable, and you couldn't help the way your legs shifted, instinctively trying to close.

Charlie's hands moved to your knees, gently but firmly pushing them apart, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction. His lips moved from your mouth, trailing down your jaw to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as he groaned against you.

He pulled the slip away entirely, tossing it aside, his hands roaming over your bare skin, mapping every inch as though he were committing you to memory. "You are... perfection," he muttered, his voice strained, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch.

His lips moved lower, trailing down your body, leaving a heated path across your chest, your stomach, and further down. His hands were strong, keeping your legs pinned open to the bed, his fingers pressing into your thighs with a possessive hold. He kissed along your inner thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You instinctively tried to scoot back, to move away as you felt his breath getting closer to your core, but Charlie's grip tightened, his hands holding you firmly in place. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, almost predatory, as he whispered, "Stay still, Sister... let me worship you."

He breathed you in, a deep, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if savoring the scent of you, and then he leaned in, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit.

A squeal, half surprise and half pleasure, escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the bed.

Father Charlie's tongue moved with a purpose, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands kept your legs spread, his grip firm and unyielding as he worked his mouth against you, his groans vibrating against your core.

He was relentless, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you.

You could feel his smooth skin against your inner thighs, the sensation only adding to the overwhelming pleasure that built inside you. His tongue moved in slow, teasing circles, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, his eyes flicking up to watch your every reaction.

The sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath—only seemed to spur him on, his groans growing louder as he tasted you.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hips bucking against his mouth, a whimper slipping from your lips. Charlie's hands moved to hold your hips down, pinning you to the bed as he continued, his tongue delving into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he worked, utterly consumed by the taste of you.

He was lost in it, in you, his tongue moving faster, his mouth desperate as he devoured you.

You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, your body trembling beneath him. The heat built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, until you felt like you might break apart. His name fell from your lips, a breathless plea, and he groaned in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.

Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body ready to fall apart under his touch.

Your first orgasm washed over you without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you feeling weightless, your entire body trembling as you came undone beneath him. You melted into the bed like butter, your limbs going limp as the intensity of it left you breathless.

Charlie's mouth moved against you with a fervent hunger, drinking in every bit of your release as if it were the most sacred offering.

A small whimper escaped your lips as the sensation grew overwhelming, your body growing sensitive to his touch. He didn't stop, his tongue moving lazily, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, his mouth still savoring you.

Your grip on his head shifted, your fingers now pushing at him, trying to get him to stop, but his hands only gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you in place. "W-Wait..." The heat in your stomach was already starting to build again, the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue igniting another fire deep within you.

Charlie groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his face buried even further between your legs, his tongue relentless.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, your body trembling once more as the pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your mind spinning as you tried to form words, but all that left your throat were broken, incoherent sounds—static that filled the room as you babbled.

You tried to scoot back, to move away from the overwhelming sensation, but Charlie's strong arms wrapped around your hips, yanking you back down, his grip unyielding. His own hips pressed into the bedding below, his desperation evident as he devoured you.

You teetered on the edge once more, the pleasure too much, too intense, until it finally broke over you again, your body arching, your mind going completely blank as you came undone a second time.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on you, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming ecstasy that left you gasping for air.

As you came down from your high, your body trembling, Father Charlie finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. He stared up at you with dark, lidded eyes, his expression filled with hunger, with desire that seemed insatiable.

There was no hesitation, no regret—only a raw need that made it clear he no longer cared about going against his vows, no longer cared about the priesthood or what was right.

All that mattered to him was you.

A/N: i'm sorry, i just watched Grotesquerie last night and i've become obssessed.... ugh, the tension between father charlie and sister megan is just *chefs kiss* it's clear that megan is obviously meant to be y/n and the screenplay was written in the intent of it being catered to the female gaze because wheeeeww 😩...

[cherubfae]

Hi 👋

I'm loving your work so far and had to follow for more!

I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you could do the scenario when the reader tells them i can hold the whole world in my hands and the other looks confused and the reader holds their face in their hands with the hazbin crew + striker and how'd they react to it?

If not, it's totally cool. I look forward to what you put out next! 😊

"𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡" || {𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢}

"I can hold the entire world in my hands. Wanna see?"

tags: gn!afab! reader// gn!ftm! for angel, fluff, cuteness, established relationships

Alastor

A crackle of radio feedback as his eye twitches when you reach for him, calms for a second when you cup his face. His clawed hands rest on top of yours. He's rather confused, how is this holding the--

"You're my whole world, Alastor~!" You grin up at him, lovingly.

The facade of a smile he always wears slips for only a second. But it's one second too long and you catch it. His eyebrows relax, lids drooping, cheeks pushing upwards and he beams at you softly. A genuine smile crossing his lips. He cups your face in return, puffing your cheeks like a fish and a muffled laugh track plays. Leaning his forehead against yours, he grins.

Softly, he whispers, "And you are mine, mon cour."

Lucifer

Immediately his eyes well up. He doesn't have the need to act all cool and collected when he's a total softie. He leans his cheek further into your palm, his eyelids fluttering shut allowing for a moment of respite. Tilting your chin upwards, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss.

"I love you more than anything. You are my life, sweetling, my galaxy. I would dismantle Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to keep you and Charlie safe."

Charlie

The meeting with Heaven hadn't gone to plan and now, she's curled up like a little blanket burrito in her crimson comforter. She doesn't say anything when you announce that you can hold the whole world in your hands, but she's definitely curious in the way she immediately watches you with interest. She's confused when you cup her cheeks but soon gasps loudly in realization, eyes welling up. You always know just what to say when she's feeling blue.

"M-me? I'm your whole world? But you're my whole world, too!" Charlie grunts, breaking free of her blanket cocoon to cup your face in return. "Look! Now I can hold the world too~!"

Vaggie

She expected your reaction to be much worse. Vaggie finally admitted, albeit she was forced to tell, that she had been an angel this entire time. You hadn't been sure how to react and it was clear you were hurt by her secret and she respected that you needed time to process all of this new information. What she hadn't expected was you approaching her a few hours later, gently cupping her face and telling her that she was your entire world.

A valve breaks loose and Vaggie begins to cry. She wanted to tell you for so long! She really, really did, but she didn't know how! You hold her close, slipping down onto the floor with her letting her cry on your shoulder.

"I didn't want to keep this part of me a secret, but there was so much risk in people knowing-- if they would directly come for you, I just... I couldn't risk your safety if you knew what I truly was. I love you so much, I just wanted to keep us safe."

Husk

The glass he had been wiping down would've shattered on the ground had his tail not caught it. His wings instinctively fluff up, setting the cup on a rack with the rest of the clean, empty glasses.

"Didja have to get up there to tell me this?" He clears his throat deeply, gesturing wildly to ask what you were doing. You, currently perched on top of the bar counter on your knees cupping his face.

"Yeah!" You chirp with a grin. Husk sighs, grabbing you by the waist and hefting you down and off the countertop. He doesn't say a word when your legs wrap around his waist and your arms slide around his shoulders. His cold nose presses to your cheek and he chuckles softly, utterly happy and in love.

"You're a dork, huh, hun? But you're my dork." Husk purrs softly, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

Angel Dust

Owlishly, he stares at you. That confusion melts into a genuine smile and a soft chuckle. His third set of arms materializes, tugging you in by your hips while the other two wrap around your shoulders and waist respectively. Pressing his soft cheek to yours, he affectionately nuzzles you with a laugh.

"You're full of surprises, ain't ya, toots? Y-you're my everything, baby. My world. The one light in this whole damned darkness I call my life."

Vox

He was expecting something much different from you when you climbed into his lap, turning his attention away from his displayed monitors. Red eyes flickering, he's confused when you grasp both sides of his monitor screen. This is new...?? Vox's gaze widens as you finish your statement, chuckling deeply. Covering your hands in his, he places your hand to his chest where his dead heart would still be beating. You make him feel alive, no heartbeat and all.

"Fuck, baby, that's pretty cheesy. But I liked it." Vox grins, red dripping from the corners of his mouth. "C'mere, sweets. Wanna kiss ya."

Blitzø

Why do you have to say some of the cutest shit? Ugh, it makes his heart feel all weird and he's not sure how to react, but he does appreciate it nonetheless, especially with the two of you being alone. You know he's been working on his emotions, trying to do better. When he can't find the words to say, he nuzzles your palm softly and gives you a wobbly smile before harshly rubbing at his eyes.

"Th-thank you, ah, fuck.. Why am I crying? Must be a damn ninja chopping some fuckin' onions somewhere." He sniffles, deeply sighing. He grasps your hand in his, squeezing it softly. "I'm not sure if the world is a large enough example.. To, y'know, express my love or whatever.."

Loona

She's pretty taken aback by your statement, a soft blush staining her cheeks. Her tail gives a little wag and she smiles. Bending down to your height, she gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, her hand slipping into yours.

"You're such a sap, babe, but I love you too. You're my world as well. C'mon, let's see what kind of chaos Beel is having at her party tonight. Not every day I can show off how amazing my partner is."

Striker

Saying that he's surprised is an understatement. He recovers quickly, a smirk curling up his lips and he chuckles softly. He kisses each of your palms, gently removing them from his face. He tugs you in close, tail swaying behind him. Tilting your chin up, his claw running along your lower lip. He leans in close, lips only inches away. His voice noticeably deepens.

"You're sweeter than pie, ain't ya, sugar? Got my heart and stomach all twisted in knots like somethin' awful. I'm not the best with words but I'd be happy to show ya just how much your tender sentiment is mutual. If you'll have me."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱ��ᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[eatfishies]

Black Lace and Trouble All Over Your Face 🔞

summary: A black lace underwear vs a lust-driven Sylus.

or

He may or may not have seen a peek of what you wore beneath your dress.

word count: 2.5k tags: NSFW, sylus x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, squirting and ejaculation, overstimulation, choking, blowjobs, slight fluff, panty kink (?), deepthroating, pet names, nipple play, established relationship, creampie, degradation fish notes: please and PLEASE heed the tags oki !! only read if ur comfy but yes anyways i decided to share my smutty sylus fic here too ^__^ forgive me if it's a lil rusty, i haven't wrote in awhile T__T ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ song recs: guess by charli xcx

She honestly didn’t know how it even came to this point. From trying on an innocent dress to now, laying and spreading out before the most fearful man in the whole N109 Zone. And yet, Sylus finds her the prettiest like this — flustered and bewildered. The dress she was trying on hiked up a bit, showing off her bare, smooth legs.

Sylus could no longer ignore the gnawing primal hunger he feels towards her. It was torturous, having to hold back his desires and maintain a facade of nonchalance when all he wanted was to ravage her and make her feel like she’s on top of the world.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at him. Red eyes swirling with multitude of thoughts. “W- what are you doing…?” She asked, slightly confused, yet mildly curious. Of course, she knew what he was thinking about it, she’s not entirely dumb.

Sylus traced her jaw ever so softly. “Don’t play coy with me, kitten. You knew what you were doing wearing this dress.”

Well, it wasn’t really a revealing dress per se, it’s just that… she was in the middle of picking up her phone that had dropped to the floor when he walked in on her. Bent down and revealing a peek of what’s underneath her cute little dress. Sylus briefly caught a glimpse of a black lace underwear, but he couldn’t be too sure. He needed to see it for himself to confirm his suspicions.

If only Sylus hadn’t come home at this exact moment, then maybe she wouldn’t have been in this exact predicament. Not that she’s complaining much but she is more or less a little bit surprised that it took Sylus longer than she anticipated to make a move. For someone so bold with his adoration towards her, he is awfully slow when it comes to voicing out his inner desires. Perhaps this train of thought goes way deeper and… dirtier than it seemed.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just trying on a cute dress I had just bought online. It’s not my fault you saw my underwear. You should’ve knocked before you entered anyways.” She spoke, trying to remain casual and calm but only he knows how fast her composure is slipping the more she is pinned beneath him.

He only smirked, as he wasn’t particularly phased or bothered by it. The tent on his pants says otherwise though. He really is curious to know what lies beneath her dress. For once, he’ll let go of his pride and bite the bullet. After all, he couldn’t resist her, no matter how hard he tried. She’s the only one that can conquer the depths of his heart.

“Well then… care to satiate my curiosity then? Or is my kitten too shy to admit that she wears such a pretty little thing underneath her clothes everyday...”

A blush crept on her face even more. “O- of course not everyday!” She looked away, too embarrassed that she may have worn it because she had also bought it along with the dress. It seemed like her wishful thinking came true after all. Now that Sylus has her trapped and nowhere to go, she could only let herself go.

“Why don’t you take a guess then? What do you think I’m wearing, hm?”

Sylus stared at her, amused by her sudden bold question. “You want me to guess, huh, darling?” He leaned down to gently bite her earlobe, sending tingles everywhere down her body. He whispered hotly in her ear, “I think it’s black and lace. Am I right, sweetie?”

At this point, she was still surprised at how she’s even holding up. She merely croaked out a flustered, “yes” before Sylus smirked and went lower to kiss and bite her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys that would be visible to everyone tomorrow. She could only let out whimpers and moans at his ministrations.

“Sy- sylus! Please…” She begged as he continued to tease her. He pulled back slightly, “What do you want baby?”

With no hesitation, she said breathlessly, “I want you.”

Red eyes gleamed dangerously as his usual smirk tugged at his lips. “As you wish, princess.” In a swift motion, he took the dress she was wearing and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Normally, she’d be a little pissed but now, she couldn’t care less.

Not when Sylus is marveling at the underwear she’s wearing. A black lace, almost see-through underwear with pink bows on it. It should be a crime on how it ridiculously made him salivate at the sight before him.

“Like what you see?” She bit her lip shyly, observing his expression carefully.

“Like it is not even a word for it, sweetie.” His fingers went up to expertly take off her bra, leaving her breasts exposed. He grasped both of them before pinching her nipples, eliciting a moan out of her. Sylus closed the distance between them and kissed her hungrily, addicted to the way she tasted as he played with her tits. He pulled away and gazed at her with a wild look in his eyes, “I am going to devour you.” Was what he said before his lips enclosed on the nipple, feeling it hardened as he continued to twirl with the neglected bud.

Pure ecstasy ran through her body. She can feel herself getting even more wet the more Sylus continued to suck and lick her nipples. He watched her carefully as he trailed kisses along her soft skin, igniting all sorts of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

She squirmed beneath his watchful eyes, “Sy… please. Don’t tease me.” She pleaded, her tone was sweet and desperate. A deep chuckle was all she heard before Sylus slowly moved down to stare at her sopping wet panty. He smirked, finding this amusing, “Already so wet for me, kitten?” He prodded at her soaked underwear, pressing down on her clit.

At the sounds of her whimpers, Sylus continued to rub her clit through her underwear. Edging her closer to release but the moment she arched her back and curled her toes, Sylus stops. Unable to control herself any longer, she begged, “Please… I want you. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Really? Then I shall reward my good girl, hm?” Sylus pulled aside her cute lace underwear, staring in fascination and adoration at her dripping cunt. “Your pretty pink pussy is so eager for me, sweetie.” She blushed, seemingly having a hard time to grasp on his crude, yet blunt words.

Without giving her a chance to dwell on it, Sylus begins to lick her pussy. All she could do was lay back and let out a string of moans– overwhelmed by the pleasure. Ruby eyes gazed at her intensely as he continued to expertly suck on her drooling cunt.

“Haaa..! Ah! Fuck–! It feels so good, Sy…” She moaned out his name and it sounded like heaven to his ears. He hummed, skillfully tonguing her pussy with vigor, aching to witness her orgasm. The tent in his pants is becoming awfully hard, he longed to see her on her knees and choking on his cock. The more she mewls and cries, the faster Sylus laps at her eager cunt.

Her fingers find their way to grasp and pull on Sylus’s soft hair, a plethora of moans and whimpers choked out of her throat as she feels herself reaching her climax. “Ah! Sylus, Sylus! Fuck, I’m so close!” A wave of euphoria washed over her as she came undone on Sylus’s sinful mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He spoke lowly as he licked his lips, she felt herself flush at the sight of his face wet with her juices. Just when she thought it was over, her underwear was pulled down and tossed to the side, revealing her dripping wet pussy. Her cunt clenched around his digits, sliding in and out of her gummy walls with ease.

“Argh…! Sylus… put it in me. I want it. I want your cock.” She whimpered and who was Sylus to deny his slutty girl what she wanted. “Relax, kitten. Let me see how much you can squirt for me.” She bit her lip, hard as he continued to finger her, casually inserting three fingers at once.

He chuckled, “My… someone’s insatiable. Can’t get enough, hm? Such a dirty whore for me.” She could only moan out in response as Sylus sped up, ramming in her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. The room was surrounded by her cries of pleasure and wet squelching sounds, courtesy of her desperate pussy.

Curses and whimpers elicited out of her throat, her cunt spasming against his skillful fingers. Sylus curled his fingers and that’s when she saw stars, coming once more for him. “So… so… good…” She said breathlessly, seemingly in a daze.

Sylus brushed a strand of hair out of her face, drenched in sweat as she stared back at him. Her eyes are unfocused and filled with desire. “Does my slutty kitten want my cock?” He leaned down and began to litter bite marks at her thighs. Sylus loved this, claiming her as his own. Letting everyone know that she belongs to him and him only.

She whined, her hands reaching out to grip on his shirt. “Want it, Sy… please. I’ve been so good…”

He lets her unbutton his shirt, her fingers are itching to feel his skin against hers, while Sylus removed his pants, speeding up the process. Without wasting any time, Sylus stroked his hardened shaft, letting out breathy moans. His gaze remained on her, laying beneath him. “C’mon sweetie, open up.” He said as he guided his cock to her parted lips.

She lets out a whine, swallowing him whole. Sylus was way too big to even fit in her mouth but the more he trained her, the more she became accustomed to it. “What a good cockslut.” He praised her, his fingers tugging onto her messy hair.

Eager to please, she began to bob her head around his shaft while he roughly throatfucks her. Saliva trickled down her chin but all she could think about was him. Sylus is truly the definition of perfect.

The sight of him in bliss and in pleasure turns her on way more than she’d like to admit. Feeling strangely motivated by the looks of his face, she quickened her pace, wanting, no, she needs his cum.

“Ah… yeah, just like that, kitten. Fuck, you’re so good at this. You like sucking my cock, huh?” He stroked her hair as she gazed up at him, nodding. Unable to resist any longer, Sylus grips her hair, and she lets herself be used just like a toy. “You dirty little whore, so good at pleasing me. Fuck, I’m close!” He thrusted inside her hot mouth before finally reaching his high.

As soon as he came, she hummed in satisfaction. Pulling back, she stuck out her tongue and showed him before swallowing. Sylus’s eyes glowed, he’s hungry for more. In an instant, he grabbed her throat, “You pretty little thing, I’m going to ruin you.”

She braced herself when she felt the tip of his cock slowly push inside her dripping cunt. Once he finally slid all the way in, he let out a moan. “Your pussy is so needy. It’s gripping me so hard, sweetie.” She could only arch her back as her fingers scramble to grab the sheets.

Feeling herself clenching tightly around his shaft, she whimpered, “Move… Sylus, please, I need you hard and fast.”

The usual smirk appeared on his handsome face, “As you wish, my slut.” Was what he said before ruthlessly pounding into her with an inhumane pace. His name falls out of her lips like a prayer – a mantra as she feels her pussy drooling and becoming wetter with each thrust.

“Scream for me. Say my name.” His hand gripped her throat, “Say it, you dumb slut.”

She had no choice but to obey his demands. With a choked voice, she screamed out, “Sylus! Sylus! Fuuuuck! Feels so good– ah! Right there, right there!”

He could only admire her as he thrusted deep into her sweet spot. Watching his lover make such lewd expressions makes him feel a swell of pride, knowing that only he could do that. No one else.

He lets go of her throat, thick fingers coming down to rub and flick at her clit. “Cum on my cock, whore.”

The world turned white as soon as she reached her orgasm. Sylus continued to ram into her before coming deep in her tight cunt. He pulled out, staring in fascination as cum dribbled out of her used pussy.

“You did so well, kitten.” He said softly, caressing her cheek as she nodded dumbly, too out of it. Sylus could only smile, knowing that she is still in a state of euphoria. He leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead, “Let me take care of you, my precious.”

The next morning, she woke up feeling sore and satisfied. To her disappointment, Sylus was nowhere to be seen. She frowned as she sat up in bed, maybe he has work? She thought to herself before getting out and walking to the bathroom.

Bite marks and hickies scattered across her skin as she observed her disheveled state in the mirror. She blushed as she recalled their intense activity last night. After she had finished washing her face and brushing her teeth, she walked out and was surprised to see Sylus in bed with a tray of breakfast.

“Good morning, sweetie.” He said, his eyes softening at her appearance.

Her feet instantly moved to sit beside him, “Sylus, did you make this?” She pointed to the fluffy pancakes and a cup of coffee. A smile crept on her face once she realized that the pancakes were shaped like hearts.

“Of course. I dismissed the chef for today. Wanted to pamper you for being so good to me last night.”

If it wasn’t possible, she felt herself falling for this man more and more. She smiled brightly at him, “Thank you, this is lovely.”

He returned her smile with his own, “Anything for you, my sweet.”

The couple enjoyed their morning with breakfast in bed and cuddles. When Sylus was feeding her, he suddenly asked, “Where did you get that underwear from?”

She raised a brow, “I ordered it online. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very. Next time you want to buy something, put it on my card.” He said casually.

A hint of surprise etched on her face, “Oh? Okay then.”

Over the course of a few days, she finds new packages arrived at her doorstep. No doubt the work of Sylus when she shook her hand and sighs as she held up the new lace panty that he had ordered for her.

There was a note at the end of the package, it wrote, “Wear this for tonight.”

She could only smile as she knew she would be in for a treat once more.

[anantaru]

4 RULES TO SURVIVE A DIVORCE (GONE WRONG)

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — deciding to end your marriage with neuvillette might've been the hardest decision you've ever had to make in your life, although now, navigating through the divorce was becoming even more difficult, especially when you suddenly fail to stick to four simple rules you have both set between each other.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 7.8k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, ex! husband neuvillette, divorced couple goals lmao, fluff & crack, p with plot, lovers to strangers to lovers, size kink/size difference, rough sex, unprotected sex, unresolved tension and lots of bickering, sassy comments from the both of you, it's very much giving married old couple, office sex, cumming inside

RULE NUMBER 1: KEEP YOUR DISTANCE AT ALL TIMES

by the sixth day of waking up to an empty bed— with the left side untouched and consisting of nothing but a feeble scent of vacant perfume, neuvillette has decided that he's had enough.

which wasn't to say that he's had enough of sleep, even though that's certainly a potent route to take, yet the neuvillette the people of fontaine knew was only the one they believed they knew.

in this agonizing moment in time, he wasn't sure on how long he could act out this picture-perfect facade for the sake of his people.

they thought he was brilliant, attractive, chocolate-box pretty.

a radiant, enigmatic dragon that was quite the sight to behold, his smile reminding the flowers of spring-time to blossom to their original beauty— awakening their way of life— ah well, such lovely things to ruminate on, or when they decide to appreciate his delicateness, how uniquely he viewed the world and how otherworldly soft he chose to explore it.

in a true sense, the alluring stories the people of fontaine told each other got one single piece about him right; that neuvillette was very handsome and soft to someone's eyes.

with all ones heart, the man unquestionably had enough of the irrefutable coldness wearing down on his shoulders, sitting there alone in an empty bedroom that was previously essential to his well being, with misery written all over his face and bursting at the seams of his mental health, just enough for him to stop talking all at once.

the cold bedspread was rough against his naked body, the mattress too soft to rest on and giving in beneath his weight. wholly crestfallen did neuvillette realize that sadly, the only way to return to the life he's lived a couple months ago, return to where he should be, was to somehow learn on how to travel back in time and make things right.

which from the bottom of his heart, was impossible.

it was confusing, he has to admit, because the only factor he found somewhat common now was on how empty the bedroom was— besides his own belongings, which weren't a lot in the first place, everything else was taken by you weeks ago, beloved items that were brimful of memories stacked in cold boxes and delivered to your new home.

a predictable event, he knows, and how embarrassingly predictable it had gotten that neuvillette found himself in teething trouble, precisely the issue of his sleep schedule in this bed— one you had bought together, shared together every single day, one you had made love to each other every single night.

a slump of mindless memories waft through his psyche, resembling a wicket current of catastrophes as he ultimately came to the conclusion that the reason he was unable to sleep must be because of you— his serious issues on being unable to rest, it has to be because of you.

neuvillette's thoughts and judgments were all scattered, rummaging through the vortex of problems he had endured through the weeks, a matter much more pressing than all of the other issues put together— he continuously waits and aches, hopes and dreams, and before he notices he's slowly healing, it all comes crashing down on him again.

a recollection long gone relives itself in his mind's eye, and his previous gaze gets overturned by a new, haunting stare.

this is why he had bought the bed in the first place, he remembers it vividly now, it's because you fell in love with it right away, you liked the way it felt underneath your body, heedless of how he personally never really found it comfortable.

concealed from everyone's eyes, neuvillette was deeply saddened, but he hadn't given his mental health much thought yet, because how do you even process that your wife has left you?

how do you tell anybody that you failed as a husband?

and it's raining again? what a hassle, although now he's acquired another way to fault himself on, most importantly hurt himself, because no one deserved the bad weather other than he himself did.

for the first time after gaining the position of the iudex of fontaine, neuvillette did not want to go to work. what if someone begins to ask too many invasive questions when he visits the palais mermonia today?

if that's the immediate case that was going to happen, he begins to think about it more clearly— a person asking about his private life was definitely trespassing his boundaries, right? he could immediately do something about it and put them on trial.

by that logic of his, neuvillette cannot fathom how humiliating it was, his face clouds with a mixture of desperation and disappointment in himself, because he can already imagine the hot off the press headlines on the cover of the steambird;

ATTENTION! ATTENTION!

IUDEX OF FONTAINE LEFT STRANDED BY FORMER WIFE! ARE YOU WONDERING WHY WE THINK THIS MARRIAGE WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START? GO FIND OUT IN THE NEW ISSUE OF THE STEAMBIRD. ©this article was written and published by journalist charlotte, do not plagiarize under any circumstances

up to the minute he was able to calm himself down, until imagining the wildfire of emotions an article like that would cause in fontaine.

all the unpleasant hours of arguing with you, even attempting to understand each other without actually coming to a conclusion on how to navigate a situation like that. aside from wanting to keep it all hidden from the outside world, leave it concealed and let the people of fontaine forget about the fact that you two had been married in the first place.

who cares, right? who gives a damn if it's husband or ex husband now? what even was the difference between a wife and an ex wife, you see that it's all the same?

ugh, who was he fooling besides himself.

the whole 'ex-wife' was aggravating him to the point where it made him physically sick.

why can't he just flip a switch and everything goes back to normal like it never happened in the first place. neuvillette wanted his normal life back, the normal life he thought you both loved and would continue to live on until your dying days.

in the end, neuvillette saw no other route around it other than to quit using it all together, maybe stop talking about you entirely.

by all means, it's not like he will talk to anybody about the divorce, maybe besides you when he has to mention it. granted that he might not talk to you about it either, because he wasn't allowed to see you right now, neither were you allowed to see him.

on how it came to that point was genuinely understandable.

after the divorce was finalized, new adjustments had to be made regarding your previous living situations, shared income and the future possibility of seeing each other.

as was anticipated, before he was able to say anything or make suggestions, you had already started to list out a couple of "important rules" that you made up, you called them rules but in the iudex mind he called them pesky little regulations.

regardless of his distaste for them, he wrote them down on a piece of paper as to not aggravate you.

well, he found it a bit bizarre, but neuvillette thought it must be a serious requirement at this point. it was his first divorce so how was he supposed to know how to navigate through one? it wasn't supposed to be easy, that's what he knew, it's very heart breaking and draining his life force.

although funnily enough, his overwhelm strengthens after you waltzed over the fourth rule of the day. that's one rule too much in his opinion.

just how many were there?

"i can't think of a better solution," you state whilst leaning your body against his desk, always facing the ground, you wouldn't want to lock gazes with him during such difficult time.

"we may even be able to talk again in the future, you know,"

but did you really want to?

it's safe to say that neuvillette would want to keep in contact, but it's certain that this would not only stress you both out in the long run, possible new partners could also get weirded out by the fact that you two were still talking and they may become jealous.

neuvillette stifles a groan, scribbling down the second rule that left your mouth before absorbing the letters on the piece of paper, "it's for the best if we keep a distance,"

to say like that was a punch in the gut would be an understatement, despite the fact that you proposed the idea in the first place.

alas and without any of you knowing before setting out those four simple rules, now— weeks after, you had found yourself in a position that made it near impossible to keep a distance from each other, or at least make eye contact in a social gathering.

for you, it has become your life in a literal sense to comb through this difficulty, for neuvillette, the possibility of seeing you in the future would secure his sanity and keep him from turning as mad as a hatter.

patience. the incurable truth was patience.

this afternoon, you have to talk for at least five minutes, with a window consisting of a maximum of ten minutes if one of you talked slowly— it's not like you want to see him, but you have to visit your ex husbands office to sign a paper regarding your previously shared finances and then you're good to go for the day again, you can leisurely exit his office and leave this failed relationship behind, exactly where it belonged in the first place, deeply stored in the past.

previously during the negotiations, neuvillette was quite persistent in leaving you the house which was located a little outside of fontaine. he was in no need of it anymore and wanted you to have it, without payments required.

between us two, it's quite obvious he wanted to get rid of it.

but so did you.

you didn't want to stay there, not now, not ever, you wouldn't sign that damned paper even if the god of contracts suddenly came knocking on your door and force you to.

all the memories in that house would eventually eat you up, they'd definitely destroy you, the gnawing grief would certainly keep you awake at night.

originally after telling your ex husband that you didn't want the house, he was able to find you a flat in the city— it's small but cute, and it had everything you needed. a cozy bedroom, a kitchen that was big enough to dance in while you're preparing dinner and an area where you can set up an office for yourself.

how convenient it was that you were previously married to the person that is in charge of fontaine.

aside from that and the fact that you were practically making neuvillette handle the most difficult parts of this— you realize how a sudden guilt was stored on your shoulders, you could barely face him after that.

the parts he needed to handle included, but were not limited to,  well, a problem slightly more irritating since it was about his life, turning approximately a hundred other problems he deals with on a daily a whole lot easier.

most of the legal process was handled by him, and only him for that matter, meaning that he had to spend additional hours on it and was barely able to move on with his life after losing you.

unlike you did.

well frankly, it's only been a couple of weeks, a month at best since you've last seen him— although it has been much longer since you've last felt him.

there really wasn't a lot going on in your life after breaking things off, it's always a grueling whirlwind of;

waking up, heading to work, walking home, eating, sleeping, repeat.

most significantly, your new bed felt a bit hard as well, it's uncomfortable and drove you insane.

you missed the one you had previously shared with neuvillette— wether it was because of the way it felt underneath you or because of its much better quality.

perhaps it was also that in the past, you had the chance of leaning against a warm body whenever you were freezing— the secret on why you found your new bed worse in comparison to your old one would certainly remain a secret forever.

it can never be answered, because you do not even know the answer yourself.

it's frequent and happens all the time— when you suddenly begin to wonder late in the evening if this was the right decision after all.

then again, a divorce wasn't necessarily something you would just forget from one day to the other— aside from that, there was a reason it happened, considering the countless events of arguing and the inability of you both to find a solid middle ground.

when you notice that a relationship drains the life out of you, or makes you cry your heart out late at night, a decision has to be made eventually, especially before it would turn your love into resentment or make your respect for the other person dwindle away.

was it really that surprising that you had your doubts?

when it comes down to it, neuvillette wasn't a bad man and you would never speak poorly of him. he was everything else but bad, which reminds you of the reason you had fallen in love with him.

but in earlier days, he had a reflection less of the way he was than of the way he wanted you to see him.

it was challenging for neuvillette to open up to you.

but hell, you're certain you won't be able to find someone who'd ever make you as happy as he did, bring you sweet tummy aches when he makes you laugh all night, or be there for you when you're sick and unable to take care of yourself.

you shake your head in embarrassment, your cheeks aflame as you're drawing several deep, steadying breaths— perhaps that's just how you're supposed to think right now.

it's not real, it cannot be.

right now, you feel like you should've never broken it off, but this marriage had been on death's door for months before the decision was finally formed— albeit from afar, no one had ever suspected anything and you're quite proud of that, in fact, both of you made sure no one would notice too much of what had been going on behind closed doors— like good spouses should always protect each other.

among other things, taking into consideration just how important his work and image was, the last outcome you wanted was for your ex husband to endure dreadful gossips about him.

neuvillette did not deserve a single negative word against him, this man deserved nothing but the finest life for himself— furthermore, after spending yet another night without sleep and thinking about your ex husband, you believed that the best for him just wasn't you.

it never has been.

RULE NUMBER 2: NEVER SHOW UP TO EACH OTHERS HOME OR WORK, NOT EVEN ON EMERGENCIES, ESPECIALLY NOT IF YOU MISS EACH OTHER

it's a little clumsy when you first enter his office, accompanied by an unnerving type of awkwardness outstretching across the room as neuvillette meets your eyes right away— but his head drops after around two seconds and he puffs out a wretched sigh, sounding as if he's about to cry.

neuvillette thought that this should've been way easier— but before you, he has never felt real love like yours before, and he was quite certain that this type of love only happens once in life.

the melusines were also happy to see you, and you could tell that they were equally as confused as you were— they probably did not realize what was going on and nor did you really want them to know.

given that their love and admiration for neuvillette was bottomless and you wouldn't want them to suddenly harbor a disdain for you.

nevertheless, when you listened to what they were whispering about behind your back, they were talking about how you must've been away for travel or desperately needed a vacation from fontaine, or one even mentioned that you might've been sick— considering how dead and empty your eyes looked those past weeks.

then there's the "being busy with work". ah well, the excuses were surely endless and somewhat amusing, you know you're not taking care of yourself when every second a melusine talks about how tired you looked and if you needed a glass of water.

everything but a divorce was being spoken about, at least you managed to hide that well.

your gaze lifts to meet his own again when neuvillette stands up from his desk and looks at you from the opposite side of the table.

under further examination of your facial expression, he notices the slight discomfort that buzzes underneath your skin, especially around your eyes and how you could barely look at him for more than five seconds.

beneath the familiar emotion of being in the same room as him, the sharp bite of his aftershave slips down the back of your throat when you suck in a sharp, choked breath, tensing like a tree at each step forward.

why do you look like you haven't slept for days?

it cannot be, right? but he was paying attention to certain details, either relevant or not he notices how you're looking around without focus, or shift the weight of your body from left foot to right foot.

and well, his supernatural senses were sharp, immediately picking up on your heart pounding against your ribs as if trying to fulfill a thousand beats.

his fingers twitch slightly with the document in his hand as he remains in his position, waiting for you to come closer.

"this couch doesn't seem very comfortable for sleep," you point to the sofa in his office, in an attempt to break the awkward tension, your chin forwarding to the left where a neatly put blanket and a small pillow sat on top of the furniture.

just how many nights has he spent here? did he even sleep in the first place? was he taking care of himself and should you worry?

it's safe to say that his work shouldn't be in danger, but it really is killing you that you cannot ask without coming across like a desperate ex, and you're fully aware that it would also go against your rules.

but neuvillette has always taken his important occupation very serious, sometimes even to the point where he forgot about his own marriage and his wife waiting for him at home with freshly made dinner served and his most favorite beverage awaiting him on a beautifully set up table and— yikes, that escalated quickly.

you're beginning to remember one of the reasons as to why this marriage failed.

"i hope you do not mind if i ask," neuvillette stifles a groan, "but are you mentioning this out of curiosity or are you speaking down on my new sleeping area?" the hint of sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable, the underlying scorn making you wince.

and oh, "sleeping area" was a big statement for that little excuse of a couch, you're very much aware that he can barely fit all of him on it and always had troubles finding a comfortable spot when he fucked— uh, well, when you did things to each other there.

yes, you already know how it felt on there, and who could possibly know of the plentiful times you had been intimate with each other on that couch.

wait a minute, was that the reason? was he already having a rebound this soon after your divorce?

no, it cannot be.

not your neuvillette, hold on, scrap that and reverse, he wasn't your neuvillette anymore.

it's stinging and like pins and needles on your heart when you think about neuvillette fucking someone on the exact same place he made love to you— leading to the conclusion that simply looking at the couch made you sick to your stomach, instantly setting off another unpleasant lurch of nausea yet you could still muster enough strength to fix yourself for the sake of this conversation.

he wouldn't dare, okay, this is the last time you're discussing this with yourself;

what if he wanted you to see this, tell you that:

hey, look at me! i am so happy without you stupid witch, and i already have a new partner too, isn't that nice for me? there really is no need for you to be worried about me, so please sign this document and exit my office.

because i am getting my dick sucked every single day!

your heart beat turns feverish in your chest, and you quickly snap your head towards the direction of your ex husband, "isn't it obvious that i was just trying to make conversation with you?" you retort back, swatting away the dust lingering on your clothes while simultaneously coughing out in an awkward manner.

"although i really cannot imagine that this couch is somewhat comfortable to sleep on."

"i believe you must still remember on how it felt laying there yourself,"

yikes, what a great comeback from him, and he didn't mean to say it like he's spitting venom into your mouth, it's almost like he wanted to tell you that it's your loss you cannot make yourself comfortable on here, even though he wouldn't mind bending you on all fours again like he did last— okay, that's enough.

there was a half-visible smirk on his face that aggravated you, the absolute last expression you were expecting to see from him.

you roll your eyes, "trust me, i don't want to," you reply, pinching your eyebrows together while assessing your distaste of his answer.

just when did an innocent question about a dusty, old couch turn into— whatever that conversation was about.

RULE NUMBER 3: DO NOT ASK INTIMATE QUESTIONS ABOUT EACH OTHERS PRIVATE LIFE

no, stop it, that doesn't seem right, neuvillette shouldn't treat you this way.

right now, he was experiencing his worst nightmare and the previous gears of sadness grind to a halt upon perceiving another emotion— one, that certainly scared him.

whatever the case, he wouldn't repeat his mistake, accepting any destiny the universe would bestow on him as he silently promises himself to stop any anger from slipping past the tip of his tongue.

pressing your lips together, you dig your heels into the ground, "okay, forget it, i don't have a lot of time," an unexpected force of confidence pushes you forward until you could feel the wooden desk graze across your thighs, you're so close now and the only thing keeping your bodies apart was the desk in between.

your mind was repeatedly screaming at your frame to stop moving before you actually did, "i have to be somewhere in, uh, about a couple hours, so lets finish this quickly."

what a sweet and pretty liar that you were, terribly aware that the only thing waiting for you tonight was your bed.

what a sad image, but he must not know!

"oh?" neuvillette mutters bitterly, a nervous rasp roughening his voice.

"a date, i assume?"

you would have gasped if you had any breath to spare, because you did not think this would actually work in a million years.

"ah, ah, ah," you note in a triumphant colored tone, happily waving your pointer finger from left to right.

"this, dear iudex, goes against rule number three."

content, neuvillette resumes to the document in his hand before placing it in the middle of the desk, sucking in a short, harsh breath, eyes deepening down south, just any area that wasn't you,

"of course, my apologies,"  his tone was thick, sickly sweet with barely cloaked amusement.

now he knows you're lying— he knows you so well it's almost embarrassing.

"this, is why you came for, right?"

you fumble a blistering retort that died with the hard press of teeth against your tongue, "mhm," you murmur in a low, rich tone, his casual unbothered spirit was dangerously convincing.

oh well, he must have gotten it right— and ah, you were remarkably stubborn too, resisting even the most innocent type of help coming from him as you take a random pen laying across the other side of the desk instead of the one in neuvillette's hand.

your eyes slowly scatter over the document, your brain struggling to put together the authoritative choice of words displayed in front of you.

"please elaborate on that," you press a finger on a significantly befuddling paragraph.

neuvillette muses agreeably before slanting against the desk to see for himself— and when he did you got a real good taste of his perfume suddenly invading your nostrils, playing devils advocate when you flinch back a little.

"do not worry yourself about this," his answer came so quickly you barely caught it, spelled out without a flutter of hesitation.

"everything is accounted for," he adds gently, you only need to put your name, there,"

your once-vulnerable eyes now squint stormily, "that smart mouth of yours surely has been busy, i can tell," as you place the pen on the desk before dropping both arms to your side— the man before you narrowed speechless, burning his eyes through your smug face.

"oh, just how many tricks did you pick up on your way here?" he replies sternly, accentuating the "here" as to remind you on where you currently were— as if that would somehow make him look threatening, you have been in his office plenty of times before, both naked and fully clothed, so neuvillette surely must search for another way to dominate this conversation.

priding himself in front of you with his position as iudex certainly wouldn't work on his ex wife.

"why?" you retort, "you like it?"

"indeed i do, or is that what you want me say, i assume?"

"no," a soft sigh above you echoes your own, "but i do find it weird that you'd want me to sign something without explaining it to me,"

"i did explain it to you multiple times, in fact, last time we saw each other i even asked you if you understood what i was referring to,"

an instinctive flutter of frustration, anger and exhaustion slips down his throat, "and if i recollect my memories," he coughs out and walks around his desk, so that nothing was in between you anymore.

"—you have said your time was limited." the radiating dominance of his body momentarily presses your back against the table, trapping you in the middle, caging between a wooden desk and your ex lover.

"that was weeks ago," you pause, "it's normal for most people to want a quick run through on a document of this importance,"

"it's normal?"

"it's normal," you reaffirm.

"how interesting indeed. i will keep that in mind," 

you lean your weight against the desk as to keep the eye contact with him in an attempt to stand your round, and the two of you have since lost the original purpose of this meeting.

"how could you possibly forget that?"

your voices flap over in an unmusical tune when neuvillette attempts to reply to you, although your tone was far louder than his. 

there was an awkward moment of silence that was practically slicing the air within your bodies and it's unusual on just how strong the tension had gotten in a span of two minutes. not to mention that he was so close— you honestly preferred it when his desk was keeping you both apart.

it was hard to remember anything and keep a rational mind, neuvillette realized that and found himself deeply saddened on how quick this meeting went out of hand and turned to this.

but a whispered sentence reaches your hearing and immediately calms you into a warm, relaxing state, "i apologise," he speaks finally and it surprises you, a nervous rasp shaking his voice,

"i shouldn't have talked to you in such disrespectful manner,"

your eyes widen, "no," and your cheeks grow hot with deep embarrassment, "it's really my fault, i need to apologize to you," as you force out a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten up the mood.

"don't," neuvillette retorts back, contemplating wether he should or not but lastly deciding to rest a hand over your shoulder before he squeezes it, a smile manifesting on his lips— and it was otherworldly radiant, illuminating his complete face with deep warmth and joy.

"i always loved that witty side of yours."

he doesn't say anything for a moment, in fact, neither of you do— and the feeling of him touching you again after weeks of spending apart from each other, and despite it being just his palm on your shoulder, was instantly turning your knees into jelly.

the minute of silence felt like twenty years as neuvillette straightens his body upright, drawing a more serious touch along your shoulder before moving his palm from your collarbone until curving his hand along your cheek, holding your gaze through bright, gemstone-like eyes.

he must be crazy, he thinks— because right now, he's going against everything he has promised himself not to do, and everything you have told him not to do as well. but fuck, he hasn't touched you like this in so long, the last time was long before your divorce, and the helpless intensity of his desire horrified him.

it's when neuvillette suddenly realizes that he has never stopped loving you— not even for a minute, nor a searing second.

it was impossible to stop loving you.

"it's just that i…" your voice grows softer and quieter the more you attempt to speak and your heart thuds feverishly in your chest that you're pretty much aware he must notice it too, "everything feels terrible," you admit hesitantly and flutter your eyes up at him, your gaze fanning over the soft pink across his facial features. 

neuvillette begins to move his thumb across your cheek, "please forgive me for failing us," he whispers weakly, on the brink of tears, "for failing the only thing that made life worth living," his throat adds a slightly hoarse perception to his tone.

your eyes widen as you attempt to drop your head if not for neuvillette holding your cheek in his palm as a whirlwind of crystallines well up in your eyes, sousing your lashes.

your mind was gone, but suddenly you can think more clear— and you're not depending on the damaging daze that was originally controlling your body's autopilot feature— the grueling circle of work, sleep, repeat.

you sniffle between words, "no!" and helplessly slant into his chest as to bury your face in the fabric of his garments, "it's my fault, not yours!" continuing to cry and wail and sob your heart out.

"please don't hate me! don't resent me!"

being able to finally let go of all those stored emotions in your heart felt utterly freeing, as if an unbearable weight was lifted off your chest.

how did you two even end up in this situation? can someone, just anyone, make this agony for the both of you stop?

neuvillette shushes your cries with a soft shhh, folding his arms around your waist before smoothing one hand across your back. he decides to rest his head on top of yours, his warm breath fanning against your hair as you return his hug, pulling him deeper into you.

"i could never hate you," neuvillette sighs, "it's because i have never stopped loving you," before putting on weight around his embrace on you— perhaps as to prepare himself, because he was sure you were about to smack him due to what he just bluntly admitted to you.

while he knows it was certainly deserved as well, no excuse would make this proclamation easier even in the slightest.

but he doesn't regret it, it's over now. he just wanted to get this off his chest even if you'd most likely break off any remaining contact to him— although now he realizes that you've given him so much and he won't let you go again, not before repeatedly telling you that he loves you, loves you, loves you.

despite him believing that his efforts went to waste.

to his surprise, you did not hit him, nor did you yell at him or ask if he's hit his head somewhere— instead, you slowly move yourself from his chest, a saddened gaze meeting his own as a single tear falls from your eye.

your answer dwells a moment before you push it out, "i love you too," and whisper, "i love you so much," before you're peering at him with an expression he couldn't begin to decipher— for what's obvious, it's pure and selfless, a startled hum immediately following the last syllable that leaves your mouth when neuvillette suddenly slants his head forward to feel your lips.

RULE NUMBER 4: DO NOT FUCK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, PLEASE JUST DON'T DO IT, SNAP OUT OF IT, DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SEX WHILE BEING IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER

by all means, this wasn't supposed to happen— hell, you don't even know how you got here.

but his eyes were enticing as they meet your gaze, a deep source of exuberance affecting your delirium and when he leans into you to kiss your lips, his soft lashes clash against your skin, his traces subtle enough to make you feel a faint tingle shiver downwards your heat.

against all odds, neuvillette was terrible at making this any easier for the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to pull away after the third, fourth or fifth kiss, there was no way of ending this and his tongue made sure to clash against yours at each lap— this passion, it had no resistance, it will always find a way to flourish.

nothing more, nothing less, and you've got the iudex right under a fucking spell because even when his life felt depressing after you left him, when he was living through all those weeks and tried to navigate through this divorce— now, his heart had suddenly begun to beat again, although neuvillette knew that this would go against the fourth, and most important rule you had set up.

but he cannot stop.

blood racing, nerves alight, he pushes you against the desk and helps you to get on top of it.

you wanted him to pleasure you, needed him to use his hands and devour those pretty lips of yours— whine as his mouth carvs in a smirk, so excited and sooth as silk when you wrap your arms around his neck to push his frame against your chest, so he could easily rest his entire weight on top of your own.

"you're gorgeous," he coos, "so utterly breathtaking," the thought of you craving his attention to that level was flooding him with pride, it made his skin crawl with a thousand thunderous vibrations that hit the bulge in his pants, your wet kisses and hot traces fueling the withdrawals of your soul on his skin.

the dizziest groan touches your glossed lips— and neuvillette flips over your skirt to expose your drenched panties to his hungry stare, his eyes instantly hard with lust and love, every measure of his yearning openly shown as his cock twitches uncomfortably in his clinging pants. 

you moan a dreamy sigh when the freezing office air hits your most sensitive parts, the tone leaving your lips high-pitched and desperate to feel more of him. in response, you earn a rough groan from neuvillette as he discards of his belt, dopamine shaking his soul alive, manifesting ruthlessly and tempting as you hug him tight, your erected nipples crushing against his strong chest.

you kiss along his neck with tenderness and feel the intense force of redness on his flustered cheeks, your tongue swift to blend over the quivering skin as you lash fiercely at the outline of his jaw between sharp flares of teeth tickling his face— his bewitching expression being held captive by your hand gripping his jaw hard enough to pull him towards you.

unwinding with relief, neuvillette manages to pull his tight slacks off, sighing as he drew out his hard cock and aching balls— instantly taking himself in his palm before fisting it slow in front of your hole. a thrum of arousal around the slit of his tip intensifies his need to crowd you with his shaft, and he gracefully strokes himself until you wrap your fingers around his wrist as to stop him for a second.

"i want you to make love to me," you mumble impatiently, "it's been so long," and neuvillette follows your lead in a flash and a quick nod of his head, making sure that you're sitting all comfortable on the desk and that you wouldn't hurt yourself with a random utensil on the table before he urges you to wrap your legs around his waist, your thighs squeezing his hips close.

"everything you say, i do," neuvillette reassures you, "forever,"

your broken moans and bulging eyes excite him, not to mention when you refuse to let go of him. of course, who knows what will happen after desire subsides and you're both thinking rationally again, after all, you do trust him with your life, but you're still divorced and sure you would look stunning on your second wedding with him, he would very much prefer to marry you right after fucking the broad daylight out of your figure.

gently clutching at your clothes, neuvillette slowly lifts up the fabric until you're wholly exposed for him to feast on, at last working your panties down your legs as they hit the ground, a coy smile spreading across his lips— your naked body was prancing in front of him, reminding him on how gorgeous you were, especially now as your lips hang apart and your lewd whines spill from the tip of your tongue.

your pretty nipples were erected as well, laying a familiar caress up his spine when you grind your chest against his chiseled one, encircling the exposed skin until it comes to meet in front.

"just look at you," he mutters proudly, almost to himself, his cheeks flushed as he ducks his head to hide the beginnings of a pleased smile when he kisses your shoulder. the praises set your blood raising, pumping a hotness into your pussy as you moan out his name in sweet tandem, feeling the slight trace of his cock-head shadowing your hole.

you will do so well tonight, neuvillette thinks to himself, and before he helps you keep your legs parted, he teases your entrance with a half-hearted push of his cock. you want him closer and carry on to search for his entire weight on top of you as his dripping dick slides past the tight edges of your hole, your pussy throbbing as it began to hurt a little— just a bit, and it's important to note that you weren't used to this anymore, used to him, and it's because all the pheromones are currently leaving your body that it was worth having a slight pain come by.

because you knew neuvillette will do anything in his power to make it hurt as little as possible— so you could enjoy his erection painting your walls white as you moan avidly, your pussy rubbing deliciously on him, his hand continuously massaging the delicious, soft skin of your thighs and ass.

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief when he snakes himself half-way in, a gentle breeze of your whimpers scatter across the room as neuvillette continues to push inch after inch of himself into you, your body relaxing underneath his much bigger one as you welcome him, beautiful moans and whimpers spilling from the back of your throat.

oh, how much you missed sucking in his cock like your life depended on it— and whatever issues would arise after this sinful encounter, neither of you was giving an inch of mind to those future concerns.

"there you go, that's what you need," neuvillette grunts, tensing his jaw and limiting his breathing because fuck, how are you still so fucking tight— in any other case, he would never skip foreplay with you, knowing that his size tends to be too big for your pussy, sometimes offering you help in spreading your puffy cunt apart— but he is aware that you're extra wet today, he notices how much easier it was to slide himself through your walls and collect your slick.

a slightest raw edge of desperation made his groan sound almost like a plea when your pussy clamps down on his shaft, and neuvillette moans softly as he bows down to trap your lips against his own, sliding down his tongue and lapping at yours, wet and slow, wet and slow, a low hiss of pleasure accentuating his skilled ministrations.

your pussy squeezes him gently and wets him thoroughly so that his flushed cock glistens in your walls as neuvillette allows himself to nuzzle his face against your neck, humming appreciatively when he began to move his hips, drinking in the light tears that swell in the corners of your eyes as he kisses them away.

everything was so filthy, just like that, and you're back to square one again— it's lewd enough to make his cock throb heavily between your legs when he picks up on his shallow tempo, warm and viscous grinds of his thick cock pounding you in two, wild and passionate burning through your sore hole and matching the rhythm of your hips that were catching his shoves halfway.

fuck, you missed his cock filling you up, shaking at the added stimulation when one hand squeezes your tits— not to mention how heavy it felt to have him deep in your guts again, his slicked erection pawing through your walls and searching for your pleasure spots, until you're practically writhing of overstimulation, most importantly releasing the stress you endured those past weeks.

somehow, everything felt more intense tonight— ecstatic and as if you're drugged of his cock, like you broke off the connection from clear reality each moment his tip inches down the searing spots in your cunt— your screams muffled by his strong shoulder which resulted in your noises coming out in weak cries and sobs.

"i'm— i'm so close." it's the way you said it, the way you wanted him to hear you.

neuvillette glances down on you, "yeah?" he cannot hold back anymore, your walls were too hot and too tight, his thudding erection cornering your bruised pussy as his cheeks turn cherry red— the tip of his ears shading the same color, "will never let you go again..." the following sentence comes from under his breath, a strong utterance, holding graven significance as it ignites flames deep within the pits of your core.

it's so unbelievably sexy when you tell him that he's about to make you cum, and the repeated proclamations of love were aiding your orgasm in unraveling much more intense— neuvillette parts his lips before pinching your nipples in between his digits, never faltering nor losing the steady streams of thrusts on your sex, paying no mind to your minor struggle of keeping his thick member within your sloppy hole.

the moans you sob are bringing him such satisfaction as well, particularly the ones of his name made him swallow down the assembling saliva in his mouth, leaving small kisses against your face as his adams apple bobs harshly against his throat when he grinds his hips into your heat— your slick seeping out at the corners of your hole as your beautiful legs hover over his waist to get into that ideal position.

he cups your pretty face without stopping the shallow tempo on your cunt, "i.. want you to look at me," his rhythm becoming blistering and rapid— it almost pains him to hold himself back, or the desire to cum but wanting to make you climax first. it's like his shaft runs through satin, pressing back and forth the finest silk but it's your pussy instead, so soft and taking his shape, you're made for him and he'll never let you forget.

even though he could hardly breathe because of how achingly hard he was, caged within the tight embrace of your walls as tears spring to his eyes, slip down his flaming cheeks, being wild and free and finally one with you again— in addition to the exciting sounds of wet noises of skin clashing on skin providing the last bonus puzzle pieces to make you spiral out of complete control.

a static crushes as if underwater in your ears— and neuvillette rolls his hips fast and hard, purring deeply when your legs wrap and urge him to penetrate you further. the pleasure buried in you was coiling from the base of your spine and found the candid bubble in your belly before snapping into a million pieces— your gorgeous noises finding his ears as he fucks you faster, yanking his head back and clenching his jaw as you came apart together, moaning into each others mouths and welcoming your orgasm with melting, soothing moans.

you shake your head and bury yourself into his warm embrace, earning you a smile you cannot even see when your thighs shake around his waist as he continues to pump his seed into you, the warm covers of milky whites prolonging your orgasm and intensifying it to a tenfold.

just in time too, his hot gift soothes the soreness on your walls as neuvillette deafens your body with a post-orgasm sensitivity that catches you in a trance, his cock still buried inside and never leaving your tight hole as you work to somehow get a hold of your breath again, letting you ease the stress he senses from you.

the stone-hard desk underneath you was bruising and uncomfortable, but it's bearable when you nuzzle yourself into your ex lover, or, well— current lover? soon to be fiance again?

"do not worry your pretty head," his hand lovingly brushes over your head as you fuse into his trace, "i will take care of everything," as he's allowing you to indulge in the intimate atmosphere you have missed so dearly, "i could marry you right this second, wherever you want," and with that sort of enthusiasm, you hold in every passing word with love, knowing that whatever the case— neuvillette and you will figure out a way, but you'll do it together, as a team.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[yieldtotemptation]

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she��s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

[boltwrites]

Thinking about you and Logan both working at Xavier's and how you'd start to notice all his weird little quirks:

You don't think you've ever seen this man in pants that aren't form-fitting in some way. He's got the black leather for the X-Men suit, bootcut denim for daily wear. And that's all fine and dandy, but one time you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night (stayed up way too late reading a book you got super into) and found him in the kitchen. In jeans. At 2 AM. Did he... sleep in that?

You don't even want to ask about the hair. Scott swears he's seen cans of hairspray in his trash (why were you looking, Scott?) but Rogue is absolutely convinced he just has weird cowlicks. You are undecided.

It's undeniable that Logan actively tries to seem cool, though. You've caught slips in his gruff and sarcastic facade. Namely, the time he was working on fixing Scott's bike, meanwhile humming along to Britney Spears. He definitely didn't think you'd be able to tell through his Walkman, but you'd recognize that melody anywhere.

Oh, and even though he acted like he hated working with the kids? You knew that was a lie too. He wasn't a teacher, per say, but he definitely spent a lot of time helping kids out sparring, or listening to them complain about the other teachers. And you'd caught, on more than one occasion, gifts the kids had given him on his person. There was a bead lizards on his set of keys, and while the bracelets were braided in muted, neutral colors, you recognized the intricate knots of those friendship bracelets. He was a softie.

But by far the strangest was the time he'd missed a meeting and you'd somehow been assigned to drag him out of bed. When he hadn't answered the door, you'd decided to just barge in, irritated at having to wake a grown man in the first place.

But Logan didn't sleep like a normal man, was the thing. Your own standard bed at the mansion came with four pillows, a top sheet, a blanket, and a duvet. Meanwhile Logan's bed looked more like a nest than anything else. There were pillows spilling onto the floor, blankets twisted around each other, at least two comforters - and Logan, curled up in the middle of it all in the smallest ball he could manage, snoring lightly.

[buckyalpine]

18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-

Oop-

It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.

It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"

Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.

She'd always take care of him.

Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.

You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.

"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.

He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.

"B-Baby?"

"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.

God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.

"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"

"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-

"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-

"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-

"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.

I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.

"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.

"Um, sometimes baby"

Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.

"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"

"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"

Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.

"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"

"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.

"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"

"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"

"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-

He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.

Lord I'm sorry.

[dumpywrites]

Facade - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Your friend arranged you on a date with a BTS member. The catch is, you have to pretend like you’re not a fan. 

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, strangers (?) to lovers, idol Jungkook, fan/army reader

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: I obviously don't know how real idol life works, let's just pretend this is how it looks like ok lol

“You did not just set me on a date with Jeon Jungkook.”

Folding your arms, you stood with your eyebrows knitted together, looking straight at your friend who in contrast had a big grin plastered on his lips. You bit into your sandwich, looking left and right, all skeptical about people overhearing your conversation. The guy in front of you then repeated his sentence again just to humor you. 

Undoubtedly, you did not hear your friend wrong. Man really just set you up with the one and only Jungkook from BTS. Being a set stylist in Big Hit and all, it came as no surprise that he knew the boys, but you did not know that he was that close to the point that he could introduce them to you personally. In fact, you were never aware of how close your friend was with them until now.

While it was true that you had told your friend, although mostly jokingly, about how you wanted him to introduce him to someone, you did not mean this. You did not mean introducing to the guy whose songs you literally had in your Spotify wrapped. 

“Felix, you can’t be serious, how??? I don't think I have anything to wear???“

“Here’s the catch.” The guy said sternly, putting down his chilled drink. “You have to pretend like you don’t know him.”

You looked at your friend as if he just turned into a fish. The sentence he blurted out just sounded ridiculous. 

“Okay, okay, I’m aware of how unbelievable that sounds. Obviously, everyone knows who he is. All I’m asking is for you to at least pretend to not be a creepy fan.”

“I’m not a creepy fan.” You looked at your friend, pretending to feel insulted. 

“You took a picture of his Calvin Klein poster at the mall last week.” He argued.

“That doesn’t count, I was asking about the location.”

“You mentioned something about rock-hard abs…”

“Okay, fair.” You rolled your eyes. “But I’m not one of those sasaeng if that’s what you mean.”

“Duh, I wouldn’t have suggested this if you are.” He rolled his eyes back at you. “The other's been teasing him about relationship stuff and your face popped up in my head." He sneered. "When I showed him your picture, he seemed to be interested.”

Your eyes widened. “Which picture of me did you show to him?!“

“Doesn’t matter.” He dismissed you. “But you’re somewhat of a fan, so you must know that he’s mentioned that he doesn’t date fans.”

“I’m aware.” You sighed. 

“I think that’s bullshit to be honest, he’s just saying that for safety purposes. So army wouldn’t fight over him and stuff?” He chuckled. “But just so he won’t get put off on the first meeting…”

“Yeah, I get it.” 

“You sound discouraged.” 

“No, I’m beyond ecstatic, it’s just that…” You stopped to sip your drink. “I don’t know, the idea of lying to his face just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You can tell him later if the date goes well! It’s just so he won’t run away on the first meeting…”

You frowned, contemplating for a good moment. “Alright fine, but you have to help me with the outfit.” 

“I got you covered, girl.” 

**

That was how you ended up waiting in a private room, at restaurant way too fancy for you, sitting down awkwardly at a table that has a paper written “Reserved for Mr. Jeon” on it. Out of nervousness, you kept fixing the non-existent crease on your blouse, the one Felix helped you choose just the day before. 

Felix was the one who drove you there, since he knew the place and both of you basically talked with him as a bridge in between. Your friend did mention the possibility of your date being late, due to the fact that he could not just enter the place from the front door like normal costumer would.

Just around six minutes of fidgeting your fingers, you heard a light click from the door handle and you quickly straightened yourself up. Honestly, you wished he came even later, cause you were nervous as heck. Thank heavens for the good air conditioner or you'd be wetting your outfit with sweat.

And so there he was, walking in full slow motion before your eyes. He was walking in casually, so effortlessly. Running his fingers through his black, slightly permed locks, he closed the door behind him and you swore his black blazer was swaying in an animated way. There was a shine in both his eyes and lips. You were definitely wearing a pink tinted glasses and you were fully aware of it.

“Hi, you must be Y/N.” He flashed a bright smile and took a seat. “Sorry I’m late, had to make sure no one saw me and all…”

“Don’t sweat it.” You said, trying not to sound breathless. 

“You’re very pretty by the way.” He grinned. “Like, actually better than the picture Felix showed me.”

“Thanks…” It was impressive how you manage to not stutter while your heart was doing a backflip. “You look great too… I mean I’m sure you get it all the time.”

“Don’t even.” He laughed. “I look great cause we have a team of professional makeup artists on stage. Today though, I’m just Jeon Jeongguk in the flesh.” 

You wanted so badly to hit him because there was no way this man really just said that his no makeup face was anything but gorgeous. 

“Anyways!” The guy exclaimed enthusiastically. “Let’s order? I’m starving!”

“What do you recommend here? I’ve never been here before…” 

“Oh, I’ve never been here either. I just asked Jimin-hyung to recommend me a good place for a date…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I figured it would make a good first impression.”

“You could just ask me out for a tteokbokki and I would’ve said yes.” 

Wait, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Jungkook’s laughter filled the room suddenly, which taken you by surprise. “That sounds awesome, we should totally get some after this!” 

You couldn’t help but to smile as well. 

“Felix told me you’re a copywriter?”

“Ah yeah, I am. I mostly work for social media stuff.” You explained as you flipped through the menu. “I kinda want to indulge in writing music but I don’t know where to start…”

“You should definitely try it!” He said in excitement. “I didn’t get to actually write my last album since the company decided to go full English, but I’d like to, maybe for my future releases.” 

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

“I can introduce you to my writers and producers if you want?” He looked at the ceiling for a second, pondering. “Have you listened to my song “Seven”?”

As a matter of fact, you had memorized the song lyric by lyric, but you couldn’t just tell him that. 

“O-Of course.” You cursed secretly for stuttering. “It’s everywhere, don’t act like that song didn’t top the charts.”

“Right…” He said, grinning while looking away from your eyes. “I mean, I could introduce you to the writers if you want.”

“There’s no need, I’m sure I can learn a thing or two from you.” You looked at him, testing the waters. 

“Or that! I prefer that, honestly.” He laughed. 

Dinner went extremely well. You were surprised at how at ease you were with him. He was fun and easy to talk to. He was talking about every dish in a very passionate way, which you found endearing. You share the same movie taste as him, which did not really come as a surprise to you, but it absolutely did to him. His eyes were practically glowing talking about the upcoming Deadpool movie. 

The guilt of pretending still lingered in you and you couldn’t just simply ignore it. No matter how comfortable he made you feel, you kept feeling on edge, scared of the possibility of spilling something you’d rather him not to hear. 

“So, are you still up for the tteokbokki?” He asked after giving his card to pay. “I mean, we can’t just eat them on the street like normal people cause you know…” He sighed, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot you can’t just…” 

“I’m sorry, it sucks.” He smiled sadly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job but… I guess it’s just a small price to pay.” 

There was a very clear hint of disappointment in his voice, and you felt awful. “I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, I can just tell my driver to drop by so we can get some and I don’t know, eat in my car? Unless you wanna eat in my place which sounds bad, I don’t think you’ll be comfortable knowing we just met—“

“Jungkook, it’s alright.” You assured him. “We can just get them next time.”

“There’s a next time then?” He said with an eager smile. 

You blushed. “Of course. I had fun…”

“Okay… phew!” He exhaled comically and you laughed. “You know, I’m glad I came today.”

“Me too.” You smiled. 

“Can I have your number?” He said with puffed cheeks as he bit the inner side of his mouth. “It’s not exactly convenient to talk via Felix.” He chuckled. 

After exchanging phone number he offered to take you home with him having a driver as the argument. You refused, but mostly because you didn’t know if you could handle being in a close distance and such small space with him yet. Your heart could barely take his boyish grins and cringey jokes. You certainly needed more getting used to. 

Your friend was so gonna get an earful about this. 

Maybe you’d treat him food too as a thanks. 

**

“So?” 

“I’m in trouble, you don’t get it.”

Your friend laughed out loud while you sighed and palmed your face. 

“Aren’t you happy that it went well?” He snickered, eyeing the unopened notifications from Jungkook popping up in your phone. “He even texts you daily, don’t you know how busy he is?”

“He still doesn’t know that I basically have his album at home.” You groaned, slumping into the table. “Albums! And his posters… his light stick…” You ruffled your hair in frustration. 

“Relax, he clearly likes you! Look at those puppy eyes emojis he sent you.”

“How am I suppose to tell him now?!” You looked at your friend in disbelief. 

“I’m sure he’ll understand, you just gotta find the right timing.” 

“That’s easy for you to say cause you’re not the one dealing with it.” 

“Shut up, look…” Felix took your phone and shoved it in front of your face. 

“Are you free this Saturday? Let’s watch a movie!”

“Oh my god???” You snatched your phone instantly, eyes fully open.

And so here you were again, somewhat dolling yourself up for a mere cinema date. You did not step out before video calling your friend and sending the view casual outfit option you had. 

This time Jungkook insisted on sending you a driver to pick you up, mentioning how it was safer and more convenient for you that way. You felt a bit weirded out by the treatment but you guessed it was only right given his status. He even said that he wanted to pick you up himself if he could. 

The first thing you noticed after stepping into the cinema was how empty it was. Sure it was quite late at night, around eleven, but it was not that late to the point where nobody would be there. You had been to the cinema at the same hour before and you were sure it wasn’t this empty. Although you were feeling suspicious, you showed the staff your booking code anyway and she led you to the auditorium. 

How terrified you were to found the auditorium to be empty also, only the huge screen playing the commercials before the movie. You began to look around, terrified. Was this some sort of prank? You were not sure. Out of the blue a finger tapped your back and you yelped in horror.

“I’m sorry! Did I scare you? I was in the restroom.” It was Jungkook. 

You stood up for a few seconds, still processing the whole situation. Your eyes were glassy due to the fear and your heart was beating rapidly. Jungkook just stood there, wearing an oversized grey hoodie and a baggy jeans, looking handsome as usual, just staring at you with two cups of soda in his hands. He had a beanie over his head, making his face look rounder and pinch-able. 

“Hey… are you okay?” 

You cleared your throat, scratching your eyes. “I was scared I thought I got pranked or something.” You chuckled, vision still quite blurry. 

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you that I rented the whole place… I just don’t want people to see me and make a fuss about it…” 

“It’s okay. I’m here now, let’s just sit down?”

Jungkook followed you as you picked a random seat in the middle of the room. 

He was being awfully quiet as the movie started playing. You noticed how suddenly tensed he was and you saw his hands trembled for a quick second before he shoved it down his pants pockets. 

“Uh, Y/N?” He called. 

You were startled. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I can’t take you on a normal date.”

Your heart melted at the statement. While it was true that you were a fan, but seeing him being a considerate and gentle guy in real life completely swept you away. 

You smiled, looking at his direction. “I mean, as long as we’re spending time together I don’t care where or how.” 

He flashed you a smile, one that could turn you into a puddle instantly. Your eyes darted to a staff that suddenly came to your seats, with two cups of what seemed to be snacks. Your eyes beamed with excitement at the realization of what was served to you. You gasped, covering your lips. You barely mouthed a “thank you” to the staff and they bowed before walking out. 

“I didn’t know they serve tteokbokki here.” 

“They don’t… I just told my driver to get us some.” He said timidly. “I hope that’s okay?”

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been just to eat a tteokbokki.” 

Jungkook breathed out a sigh before smiling brightly. “You know, I don’t even remember the last time I went out on a normal date… I’m sorry if it’s weird to you.” 

“I haven’t been in one in a while either, it’s okay.” You smiled back, poking the tteokbokki and took a bite.

He started stuffing some in his mouth as well. “No, it’s different… I think I will never get the chance to actually date normally, you know? Not in the near future at least. I just wish people respect my privacy more, that’s not much to ask, right?”

“I’m sorry you have to go through this.” 

“Well, at the end of the day, I love what I do and I don’t regret anything.” 

He shrugged and continued to stuff more food in his mouth, making you giggle at the sight. You had seen him eat multiple times on his weverse live but seeing him actually eat with such enthusiast right in front of you just felt different. God was he cute. 

“I’m glad you’re not like those people.” He looked at you, smiling with his mouth full.

You froze. Am I though? You thought to yourself. Immediately the eye contact was broken and you straightened yourself on the seat to watch the movie, the one with plot you never really got to know at this point. You did not realize how you never really responded to his sentence. 

He did not press over it again and you were glad. Instead of opening his mouth to ask for more, he put his hand over yours instead. A bold move, which surprised you, but his touch was oddly calming and in no time you found yourselves intertwining your fingers together. 

After the credits rolled, both of you stood up to exit but Jungkook quickly caught your right hand again, refusing to let go of it yet. You found it really adorable so you let him be. 

“Let me take you home, yeah?”

“But aren’t you worried? What if someone snoops around seeing the same car drops a random girl and then you later?” You reasoned. 

“You’re not some random girl.” 

You were both mad and smitten that he chose to focus on that. “That’s not the point.” 

“I know… it’s just,” He puffed his cheeks. “I wanna spend time with you more, I don’t really get breaks that often so…”

You almost let out an “aww”. You sighed, fighting the urge to just hug him right there on the spot. “Alright.”

“Yes!” He celebrated, throwing his left fist in the air. “Don't worry, I have a driver trailing from behind in case I get followed. I won't drop you in your specific apartment tower too, if that helps."

“You drove by yourself?”

“Kinda wanna chat just the two of us.”

Okay, you were now holding every fiber of yourself not to just jump and kiss him.

“Is that alright though?” You worried. 

“The staffs here already signed NDAs and stuff, so I hope so.” He shrugged. 

Nodding, you followed him to the parking basement, where he parked his car. He did not let go of your hand until he reached his car. Not minutes after starting his engine, he already was asking for your hand. His eyebrows wiggling playfully at you, while he whined about how he could comfortably drive with one hand. 

You were in no position to complain though, your hand felt too comfortable resting against his. It almost felt like it belonged there but saying that about Jungkook made you feel delusional. Despite actually going on a date with the man himself, it was still surreal for you, the idea of going out with your idol. 

“Do you think I’m going too fast?” 

“Your driving? I guess it’s alright.” You raised one of your eyebrow, looking at him. 

“You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “About this whole thing…”

Before you answered, he spoke again. 

“I get way too excited over these things, I don’t have that much experience and not to mention how I don’t really get that much time to do so.” He nervously laughed. “I’m a fucking twenty-six year old guy who gets way too excited over holding hands…” He shook his head. The curse word rolling out from his tongue actually sounded natural, somewhat sexy.

“I think you’re fine the way you are.” You squeezed his hand, patting the top of it with your other one. “Everyone experience life differently, and so what if you get excited over holding hands? You think I don’t?” You chuckled. 

“You do?!” He said cheerfully. “We’re such a great match already.” He joked. 

You rolled your eyes but your lips were curled into a shy smile. 

“I like you, like a lot.” Jungkook suddenly confessed, as if it was nothing. 

You almost jumped in your seat, looking to his direction. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling from ear to ear. 

This was it right? This was the moment of your dreams. You were literally dreaming about this.  The idol who you admired, confessing his feelings to you. But a small part of you thought about how wrong it was. You were putting a facade in front of him. While you did not lie or put up an act just to impress him, he still didn’t know that you were one of his fans. Will he get mad if he finds out? You’d rather not find out. 

“Jungkook, it’s…” 

“You don’t have to answer right now. We’ll see each other again, right?” This time he squeezed your hand, dragging it near his chest. You felt his heart beating rapidly. 

You kept quiet, only nodding silently. Looking at his direction suddenly felt stuffy so you looked at the window instead, the road and traffic lights kept you busy. 

It was not long after and he finally stopped at your destination. 

“I’ll see you again?” He said, voice sounding a little bit like a beg. 

“I… I can’t.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped slightly, he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Why?”

“I’m not who you think I am…” You looked away, backing off so your body hits the car door. 

“What’s that suppose to mean?” He leaned towards your direction, making you nervous. 

Panicking, you finally spilled the beans. “Jungkook, I’m actually your fan.” You breathed out. “I’m an army…”

You were so ready to get yelled and thrown out. This was gonna be the moment you wished you had never met—

“I know.”

“Wait, what???” You replied, voice almost a little too loud.

“I saw your little Koya charm in your bag when we first met, I was waiting for you to bring it up but you never say anything.”

Shit, guess you forgot to take that off. 

“But you said you were glad I’m not like those people…”

“And I don’t mean my fans? I was talking about those crazy stalkers and dispatch.” He looked at you in disbelief, almost as if he felt betrayed. 

“I… I don’t know what to say…” You blushed, the sudden realization hit you that Jungkook in fact had known about your secret since day one. 

“That was it right? That’s the only thing that I supposedly don’t know about you? You didn’t lie about anything else?”

“N-No, of course not…”

“Then my offer still stands, I’ll let you know when I’m free next.” He grinned. “If you want to?” 

“I want to…” You managed to say, in which seconds later the huge built guy launched towards you for a hug. 

“Hey!” You whined, but you were aware of how hot your face felt. Your whole body probably had turned red. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked impatiently, eyes big like a puppy asking for food. “I mean… it’s okay if you don’t want to?” He giggled. 

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me…" You groaned. "You don’t have to ask!” You pouted with your cheeks burning like crazy. 

He showed you his tooth-aching smile, one that turned his eyes into crescents, before he quickly dipped and met your lips. It was a short and soft peck. He did left it lingering for a few seconds before pulling back. You couldn’t lie to yourself, you were lowkey expecting more. 

“Good night.” He giggled. 

“Good night to you too, silly.” You laughed as well, hugging him close and pecked his cheek. 

He finally let you go so you could grab your bag. It was kinda awkward after all hugging in the car seat but oh well. You clicked open the car door, slowly stepping out. 

“Drive safe.” You said, looking back to him. 

He nodded before waving you goodbye. 

That night you went to bed with your eyes wide open. How could you even sleep? The whole scenario felt like you just receive something only someone who had won a war in their past life would get. You took your phone, wanting to text the guy who you totally did not have as your wallpaper now. 

There were already two bubbles of notification from him, but your eyes almost popped out reading the second one. 

“I have arrived safely! No one followed me! Hehe”

“Any chance you want a signed album from Namjoon-hyung? I can give you for a very low price of a single kiss! 💜”

Thank you for reading! 🍷

Prompt request: HERE

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello! Could I request a platonic MC telling Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Leona, Floyd, both Scarabia boys, and Malleus that out of the whole cast, they're her favorite?

I'm not sure if that's too much, but if it is you could you just do Riddle, Leona, Scarabia, & Malleus. Thank you!

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request! I found this one to be rather cute, thank you, Anon! I hope that you enjoy!

Tw: Brief mentions of trauma (Riddle, Malleus, Scarabia duo, and tiny bit in Floyd's)

Request: Boys reacting to being the favorite of platonic!MC

He promises that he isn't mad, given that's when we see his face as red as he is, you just... caught him off guard

Out of everyone, he was your favorite?

Granted, you seemed to have a good choice in mind, it's just that... him?

He didn't exactly have the best upbringing and much of what he does is rather new

But he takes this role of being your favorite very seriously

You are now the best and closest person that he has to family, and ring the honorary 'older brother' and favorite, he wants to be able to give you the things he wasn't able to have growing up

Now, if everyone will excuse him, he has to meet with MC for strawberry tarts and tea

One word, smug

There were literal princes in this college, and he was the one you said was your favorite?

Yeah, he is eating that all up

But he also sees just how serious you are about that declaration with how you seem to stick to him, especially in moments of danger

Big brother mode has been activated

Ace is quite often seen hanging around you a whole lot more

Before anyone asks, no, he doesn't know what happened to his spare jersey is, and yes, it is just a coincidence that you have one that matches

Instantly told his mother the moment that you told him that he was your favorite out of everyone in the college

Low-key wanted to cry

Another who took this role very seriously

Deuce ensures that you have everything it is that you need throughout the day

Food, water, a spare jacket, notebook, or a pencil

He just wants to be able to take care of you, if he is seen as your favorite, he must take on that responsibility

Do you wanna come and watch him during club practice? He will make sure that you have what you need to be comfortable

Please excuse him, he needs a moment

You managed to catch him alone when you told him of this little information of yours

And for the first time, you saw that constant positive facade of his drop for just a moment

Are you sure it's not just the happy side that he shows to everyone that is your favorite?

No?

It's literally all of who he is?

Yeah, a couple tears were shed

You are the only person he let's see him for who he is and much of the time you two are together, you're chilling in either of your rooms

He remembers the excitement he felt when you showed up to the Light Music Club to see him

Will you come more often?

Another one who needed a moment to reflect on what it is that you said, even asked you to repeat it several times

Look, all his life, he's been second place to pretty much anything and looked down upon for his second born prince status

And he is your favorite out of everyone here?

Also a bit smug about it

Will want to hear you say it every day, him being your favorite

Will often give you small gifts here and there ranging from clothes to little trinkets

Protective big bro mode coming out

Oh, you came to see him during Magic shift wearing his dorm uniform?

Well, don't take your eyes off of him. Time to show you all that your favorite can do

Congrats, you're a Leech now

New little sibling, you have been adopted and he's bringing the parents to come and meet the newest edition to the family

If you thought he was latched onto you before, it's at an all new extreme now

He is your favorite person

Meaning he now wants to be with you and take care of you like a good big brother

He is used to people wanting to be more around Jade as they deemed him to be the safer of the twins (an error on their part), so having someone who says he is the favorite?

He takes his last name a bit seriously

Did you just show up to the game in his spare jersey? Well, it looks like NRC is going to secure themselves a win

To be honest, it's a phrase he is kinda used too, given all the siblings that he has, there is no doubt that he has been told that before

But it's different for you

You're new to this world, you have no one here to really turn to, so the fact that you have chosen him as your favorite?

He is quite happy to hear those words and was merely seconds away from throwing a party before you stopped him

If there is anything that you need, please let him know, he will certainly get you anything that you need no matter what it is

Another one who told his family about you and they are all rather excited to be able to finally meet you

Kalim was quite happy seeing you at club practice, want him to teach you? He has no issue with it

Will also make you repeat that statement several times no matter how many days it has been since hearing that statement

At times, it is still a bit hard for him to believe, given how he was raised and his status

He was never anyone's favorite before, so he will be clinging onto that title something fierce

Every time you tell him, you can see the hint of a smile on his face, a real and genuine smile

Constantly ensures you have what you need throughout the day

Unlike with Kalim, he is more than happy to help you out

Homemade meals, tea, even help with studying, just let him know and he will be there to help you out, okay?

Now, are you ready? He just brought everything you guys will need to make a traditional Scalding Sands meal

Well, it isn't raining anymore

It had been a rather stormy day on campus when you had finally found him and shared that little bit of information

Now it was nice and sunny outside and he had a smile to match

Are you saying that you actively went out in that horrible storm with the sole mission to seek him out, and tell him that he was your favorite person?

He had been alone for so much of his life, so to have this conversation with you

Please excuse him, he really isn't trying to tear up

Instantly invited to Diasmonia for a number of things

Has to stop Lilia from straight up adopting you.... even if he didn't mind, he wanted you to be okay with it before anything

Sebek obviously praised your taste when it came to choosing your favorite person, of course you would choose Malleus!

Now, if you will all excuse them, they have some gargoyle studies that they have to attend too

Thank you for your request! Have a wonderful day/night!

[smutoperator]

Under Her Skirt

Choi Yewon (Arin) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, acrobatic 69, anal, ass eating, ass-to-pussy, balcony sex, carry fucking, cheeky, choking, cute but slutty, daddy kink, dirty talk, (lots of) facefucking, face slapping, facial, miniskirt, objectification, rough sex, schoolgirl, socks, spanking, specs, spitting, squirting

Word count: 5143

For the last couple years, you and Arin seemed frozen in time. Ever since Oh My Girl renewed their contracts and moved towards sporadic activities, you have had very few chances to see Arin in person. All your opportunities would come from festivals where they would always play the same songs, and all you could do was watch Arin jiggling her cheeks on stage from afar.

After you saw Arin perform in a schoolgirl outfit, wearing specs and looking cuter than ever, but also sexier than ever, you knew this drought had to end. You had to get Arin at all costs. It had become a matter of life or death for you. As you managed to dribble their managers and snuck into backstage, you found the beautiful, cute Arin right there, her heartwarming smile in full display when she saw you.

"It's been a while since we last met," Arin said. "I still remember when you used to warm me up backstage before Music Bank," she continued. "Can we do this again, even if just for today?" you asked. "Sure, meet me at home; I'll be waiting for you," she said.

Arin sent you a few pictures of her schoolgirl outfit before she even published them on Instagram. Truth be told, she missed you too and had been craving it for a long time; that backstage smile wasn't for nothing at all.

Arin greeted you with her stage outfit still on. Her glow-up since you two last met was quite amazing. The more you looked at her, the more your lust for her grew. Flashbacks of her riding you with her cheeky butt already popped into your mind, of you carrying her and spanking her ass while going nonstop inside her holes. It was long overdue to bring it back.

It turns out Arin wanted it just as much as you did. As you sat on the chair around her house's table, she took a different route, sitting on top of the table itself with her round cheeks and advancing towards you, giving you sexy kisses where you could feel how much she missed you.

"You want this, baby?" Arin asked you. You didn't reply, but the expressions on your face already made your answer clear to her. And your next move, even more so, as you jumped from the chair and grabbed Arin by her neck, immediately answering back her torrid kisses. You took your coat off as Arin's sexy mouth quickly heated you up. "You're still the same whore from the last time we met," you told her, giving her face a little slap. "But I'm a lot more experienced now," Arin pushed back.

"Then let's cheek it; I mean, check it," you said as you reached under her skirt. God, you really missed those cheeks. The moment you grabbed them, you already wanted to explode. Memories of you clapping it and spanking it hard flashed into your eyes. You placed Arin's body on top of the table and already took her panties off. Her lifted skirt stays on, just like her socks and specs. You are very much enamored by this look on Arin, like you never were before, and ready to show it to her.

You duck your head under Arin's skirt and start eating her pretty pussy. That cute schoolgirl facade is only present in her outfit. Everywhere else, Arin is just the moaning slut you always knew her for, as she closes her wonderful thighs around your head the more you stimulate her sweaty pussy. Soon, your fingers replace your hands as you kiss Arin and let her taste her hole while your hands make her even wetter. Arin just falls back onto the table and enjoys the finger-fucking session.

"Yes, please, please," Arin begs right before you kiss her. But you've got different plans. Carrying this petite doll was always one of your favorite things, and you do it again as Arin clings to your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"Turn around," you say as you drop Arin to the floor after a little while. As you give her skirt a little lift, the thing she's most known for is already on full display. You waste no time ducking between her fat cheeks, circling your tongue around both her holes. But this time, her asshole gets the most attention, as you already tongue it deep and soon remind yourself how much better it tastes when sweaty. Arin just moans and spreads her legs.

Arin starts jiggling her ass as you eat her out and grabs your head to dunk it deeper between her cheeks. Her reaction makes you go even crazier, as you suddenly get up and give Arin an order: "Let's get this off," you tell her, as she tries to take her top and tie off while you choke her and finger her pussy at the same time.

"Ohhhh, I missed that touch so much," Arin says. "Of course you did; you're an insatiable whore, always jiggling those cheeks on stage," you punch back, yanking her top off. "It looks like you enjoyed that jiggling, didn't you?" Arin said. "Look at how hard you are; I've been noticing it the moment you entered my house," Arin replied, touching your pants right where your erection lied.

"Then get on your knees and worship it, bitch," you tell her, unbuttoning your pants. Arin quickly wraps her hands around it and licks your shaft from top to bottom multiple times before she sloppily sucks it. "Open that mouth, bitch," you tell her as you grab her hair and start fucking her beautiful face, your balls slapping nonstop against her chin. As you stop with your cock impaling her throat, Arin moves it even further, testing herself and getting ready to gag hard on that shaft.

"Spit on my mouth, please," Arin says, opening it even further as soon as she gags on your meat. You give her what she wants and kiss her once again shortly after, quickly moving to keep the facefucking going. You had forgotten how messy she gets when her pretty face gets pounded, going from a cute, classy maknae straight into a slutty cocksleeve.

"You like to fuck that cute little face, don't you, baby?" Arin asks as she goes back to blowing that pipe off. "But you like it better when I turn into this cock-sucking slut, right?" she says as she finishes her aggressive blowjob, taking all your shaft in, including giving a lot of love to your balls.

"You're going to detention today, you slutty schoolgirl," you poke at her, aggressively taking Arin's bra off and exposing her perky tits. More kissing ensues while you rub Arin's cute boobs before slapping them. "Tell me who's daddy's whore?" you ask her. "I am!" Arin laughs.

"Get in there," you say as Arin places her small head between your legs. You feel really dominant watching her face get fucked in that position, giving you the perfect view of your manhood bulging under her throat while your balls hit the glasses in her specs.

"AHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH." Arin screams from the top of her lungs once you pull out of her mouth. "Shut up, bitch," you tell her, covering her mouth with your hands as soon as she screams. Instead, Arin licks your fingers nonstop. "My pussy tastes really good," she says once she finishes it.

You take your shoes off, making a stomping noise on the woody floor of Arin's house. Clearly, she hasn't learned the lesson. Now you fuck her face with your fingers, going deep into her pussy. "How does that taste, cunt?" Arin tries to say some words, but your cock mutes them. "Louder, I can't hear it," you tell her.

Arin coughs all over your cock, but little does she know you're about to get even spicier. You grab her by the waist and flip her upside down. "Don't let those specs fall down," you say to her. "YESSSS!" Arin gets excited and licks your cock as you grab her lower body and eat her pussy while she's upside down. Down low, she maniacally licks your shaft.

"Who told you to do this?" you ask her, spanking her ass and thrusting your prick right back into her face. Arin gets punished hard as her cheeks slowly turn into your favorite color: red. Upside down, a cock deep in her throat, a tongue deep in her cunt—it's incredible that Arin still manages to keep those specs on and still finds strength to bob her head on your dick as soon as you stop fucking her face, which leads to yet another punishment spank from you.

You flip Arin back and kiss her. "Yes, baby, it looks like you enjoyed that 69, didn't you?" you rhetorically ask. "But we are just starting," you say as you grab her neck once again. "Bend over," you order right after, placing your hands in her cheeks as you go back to rubbing her cunt.

"Time to get punished, bitch," you tell Arin, sliding your cock in her pussy. "Oh fuck," Arin gets caught by surprise with a monster suddenly inside her cunt, but instinctively bends over from long years of experience. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK IT!" Arin yells as you are already clapping her massive cheeks, giving her no room to breathe and attacking hard from the start. "Please destroy my pussy, AHHHHH," she begs as you pick up the pace.

"Fuck me just like that, hit me deeper," Arin keeps demanding as you pump her pussy nonstop, spreading her cheeks and moaning while you grab her arms behind her back. You push her body towards yours and give her a crazy pounding in standing doggy, treating her pussy like a fleshlight and making her cheeks let out loud noises each time you thrust deep inside her.

Arin has to cling back onto the table not to get obliterated, as you stop a bit to admire her meaty cheeks. "Get down," you tell her, taking advantage of a submissive Arin is bending over to eat her desirable butthole as she jiggles her ass and lets her cheeks hit your face. You put a finger up her asshole, but it's so warm you can't resist but to shove your whole cock inside it shortly after.

"Use my asshole; I know that's what you want the mo... AHHHH," Arin says. "Don't worry, bitch, I'll use it like my personal toy," you tell her, fucking her ass and spanking her cheeks nonstop. "Please, shove that cock deep in my ass," Arin continues to say. You love how her facial expressions change with each pumping and spanking you give her. "Oh my God, you fuck me so hard," Arin says. Even for a slut like her, it's hard to take such a big cock at such a fast speed in her butthole.

"USE ME. USE ME. USE ME. DESTROY MY TINY LITTLE ASSHOLE, FUCK!" Arin keeps screaming. The more she talks, the harder you fuck her ass, and the louder her cheeks clap. Not even five minutes in, but she can barely stand up, getting fucked like an animal as you go raw on her.

"I love how you fuck me," Arin says as soon as you finish ramming her. You slap her face as soon as you hear those words, which she loves. "Are you going to fuck me like your dirty little bitch?" Arin asks, clearly wanting more. You let your actions do the talking, grabbing her and leading Arin towards the balcony, pinning her against the glass door. Arin can barely hold onto the glass as you manhandle her ass, her moaning mouth, and her sliding hands, leaving an imprint on the glass on this foggy, cold day. 

"OH. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," she screams, her little tits now hitting the glass nonstop as she has no control over her body, getting plowed like a slutty fuckdoll that she is. Arin gets grabbed from behind, and your primal urge to destroy her only grows as her whole body gets suffocated between that glass and your dominating self, forcing her to cling as hard as possible to any support, holding the door with all her might just to survive your rough anal rampage.

"Lick that glass, you dirty whore," you say, spitting on it right after you stop pounding Arin, who follows. "I want you to fuck me so bad," she says once she finishes. "What did you say?" you ask her, grabbing Arin back inside the room. Arin laughs. "Then shut up and show me," you say, lifting her leg against the door. "Ready to put it back in?" she demands, giving you a lustful stare. "Give me that ass," you say; indeed, you can't say no to it.

You fuck and spank Arin's ass like crazy. "Keep going, daddy," she says, masturbating herself at each thrust and even using different languages: "Follame el culo," she demands, in Spanish, as you grab her cheeks, but a different one in this case, those in her cute slutty face. Arin gets her face slapped multiple times, but she also retaliates and spanks yours as well, showing she's truly an untamed slut. All that while getting fucked hard in the ass.

"Make me fucking take it," Arin says as your anal addiction to her only grows. "I want you to treat me like the biggest whore you've ever met," she continues. You switch to a standing doggy once again; never stop fucking her butt. "Sí papi, así, así, así," she says once again in Spanish. "Fuck me harder, fuck me harder," she then says.

You indeed fuck Arin harder, making her hold against the door not to get destroyed. Her entire body jiggles, even her little tits. "Make me fucking take it, daddy," she continues. And you make her, gabbing Arin from behind. "GOD, I'M GONNA CUM," she says right after. As you just seem to have endless energy and never stop, her butt keeps getting spanked, her body used like a fleshlight. Her neck choked in such a way that it clenched her entire throat. If Arin really wants to be treated like a sex object, you sure won't object.

Arin gets on her knees to suck your cock. Despite the rampage she just endured, she seems just fine and ready for more, savoring her asshole like a dinner meal and making loud noises with her mouth as she gets very sloppy. Soon you're treating her face just like her asshole, fucking it hard as she nods with your cock deep in her throat, ready to choke on it. You spit on her face as soon as you finish it. "Give it back," she asks for more as you fuck her face with her still jerking your cock off.

"Come in." You grab Arin's hair as she crawls inside on all fours like a dirty puppy. You slam her body into the table and start eating her pussy. "Yes, daddy, make me fucking cum, ahhh," Arin moans as she moves her hips to meet your mouth inside her cunt. Soon, your mouth is replaced by that huge cock, sensing that Arin wants it back inside, begging and moaning as you pump her pussy in a hot missionary position before shoving your whole hand inside her mouth to shut her up.

Arin bites your hand as she chokes all over it, trying to let her moan out as you put the heat in her pussy. As you free Arin's mouth, you give her no time to collect herself, switching straight back to her asshole. The spanking continued, as this time you targeted her milky thighs. "Yes, that's what I want; spank me, spank me," Arin said as you kept hitting her.

You make things even harder for Arin as you shove your hand inside her pussy to add to the pumps you were already giving her asshole. She's on the edge of the table, having to be careful not to fall down. "FUCK. MAKE. ME. CUM," she says, each word becoming more and more of a struggle to come out of her mouth. "Fuck, I'm cumming," she says right after, her nipples fully erected and her body overwhelmed by the anal and vaginal stimulation you give her simultaneously.

Hearing those words makes you increase your speed a lot more, pounding Arin's ass until she squirts and cums all over your hands. You pull out and set your sights on fingering her wet cunt as Arin slides her legs out of the table. "Slap my fucking cunt, yesss," she begs as juices come out of it, and she wants the slapping session to extend into her entire body.

Arin romantically kisses you as she finishes her orgasm. You then turn her body around and place her head, falling out of the table, to fuck her face. "Give me all that cock," she begs as you plow her throat balls deep, and she savors your shaft, letting out loud moans that you can't hear an audible word of. Arin coughs deeper on your cock once you stop your pounding motion, engulfing it with ease. You two spend a couple minutes on this routine, with Arin lasting longer each time you shove your prick deep in her throat, coating your dick full of her spit and creating strings of saliva coming out of your throbbing shaft.

"Fuck that face up," Arin demands as you treat her mouth like a human onahole, reaching under her needy pussy to finger it while your pole is buried deep in her throat. "Yes, gag on that dick, you fucking whore," you tell her. "Fuck yeah!" she answers back.

With Arin still recovering, you grab her body and carry her. She answers immediately by bouncing on your cock while up in the air, showing why it's one of her favorite positions. Her moans are music to your ears as Arin impales herself on your big dick, and you enjoy how easy it is to spank her cheeks. Soon, Arin is kissing you while getting pounded and spanked mid-air.

But you want to pump her harder, dropping to the floor and without pulling out, hammering her pussy upwards as Arin has to hold herself to the edge of the table, getting pounded nonstop down low in her cunt. Your balls slapped onto her cheeks multiple times, turning both of you on even further. "Make those fucking cheeks clap," Arin orders as the pounding continues, only stopping for a couple seconds for you to switch holes and do the same thing but to her already sore ass.

You let Arin twerk on your dick as she made it disappear under her big cheeky butt. You love how she energetically jumps on that dick like an insatiable slut, spanking her cheeks and telling her to go fast, which Arin follows to the degree that your cock slips out of her butthole. Rather than complaining, you just take advantage of it to slide it back in her cunt and be the alpha man, obliterating it once more as your balls go all the way up into hitting her anal entrance with the speed you pump Arin's pussy.

"Let me fucking ride it; I need your fucking cock right now," Arin says as you pause a bit, letting her take control of the ride and impale herself all the way into her cervix. You kiss her and give her already red cheeks a little tap to praise her before she stops, and you two have a clingy and romantic moment filled with kisses, but always with your cock deep inside her.

You push Arin to the top of the table, lying on it while doing so, letting her enjoy a ride while standing tall. "There you go," you say as Arin spreads her legs and settles them on the table, giving long bounces on your dick, going all the way up your tip and then pushing all the way down your balls. "You want to feel this warm, needy pussy?" she asks. "Yes, just like that," you reply. Arin's moans get sexier as she shows her love for riding big dicks. "All the way deep in my pussy," she says while her bounce continues, and you get a perfect view of her hole getting stretched out every time she takes your cock in and out of it.

Arin's moans get louder as she spreads her cheeks. "Look at me taking all this fucking cock all the way in," she brags. "Time for you to use that fucking pussy again," she commands, as you push up it and Arin gets her sex manhandled while mid-air, the loud noise of her clapping cheeks filling the room once more. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," is all she can say, defenseless as your cock stabs her cunt like nothing, making her skirt wave at each thrust.

"FUCK. FUCK, I WANT ALL OF IT," Arin screams, still mid-air. "Nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop," she starts singing one of her group's hits while giving you an order at the same time. "YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. FUCK. I'M CUMMING." Arin gets destroyed as you show no mercy for her cunt; the more her cheeks clap, the harder you pound her. As soon as you run out of stamina, Arin grinds her pussy on your cock sideways, coating it with her juices, and kisses you to show gratitude for fucking her like a whore.

Arin flips to the opposite side, diving to taste your cock full of her juices from both holes. You get up a bit to watch her marvelous mouth work all the way down your shaft as Arin deepthroats it in full force and makes even louder noises as she keeps coughing on that dick. More deepthroating ensues as you duck her head into your crotch until she gags.

"Is that what you want? To fuck me hard like a dirty little slut?" Arin asks as you choke her, and she fingers herself. "Put it back in my ass, please," she says, lying on the edge of the table as you penetrate her already gaped butthole. "Give me more; destroy my tiny little asshole," she continues as she moans, and you spank her little. "Use that fucking asshole, yeah," she keeps saying. "Choke me," Arin demands as you oblige, while placing your thumb in her mouth.

"Back and forth, switch between my holes," Arin keeps demanding as you take turns between her anus and cunt and tease her before settling for another hard ass-fucking that she loves. "Yes, please, stretch my ass like that. I love it. I love it in my fucking ass. Stuff me up, stuff me up," she tells you. The anal pounding continues, but you surprise her with another switch to her pussy, enjoying the whole back and forth hole-stretching, but truth be told, Arin has a favorite one.

"Please put it back in my fucking ass; I want you to use it," she begs. You go back into her asshole just as she wants, turning her cheeks even redder. "My ass is so fucking wet for you," she keeps talking dirty and praising the wonder of her tiny little stretched anus. 

You clap Arin's cheeks against the table as you increase the speed of your anal fucking. "KEEP FUCKING ME, PLEASE!" Arin screams as her asshole gets destroyed. "Harder, harder, yesss!" She pushes you to the edge, demanding the best effort you can bring to fuck that ass, yelling nonstop even as you choke her. Your thobbing cock tingles, and you almost cum at the spot as her clenching butthole smashes it, but you respond, fucking her even harder as she tells you she's ready to cum again.

"FUCK YEAH. USING MY FUCKING HOLE!" Arin gets even louder as she squirts after a long and rough round of anal. You aid her into releasing those juices as you massage her clit, letting a geyser come out of her cunt as Arin gets into a fetal position for you to slap her cheeks once again, her body sliding over the slippery table as you dive to eat both her holes out and then spit on her slutty face.

"Keep going down my fucking clit, daddy," Arin says as you continue to eat her pussy, her skirt fully lifted as you dive under it. More passionate kisses ensue between both of you as Arin puts her long legs over her head, letting you take her in a mating press up her asshole.

"Drop that fucking cock deep inside me; drop it in my ass," Arin tells you as you push it back in her anus. "All the way deep in my fucking asshole, please," she continues, sticking her tongue out. "Shut up, little cunt." You have enough of her slutty antics and shove your fist down her throat, fully topping Arin as she lies over the table.

You go slow and deep, taking a more passionate approach this time. "Keep going, right in my fucking ass," she says as soon as you free her mouth to speak. However, that makes you flip a switch as you start giving her a rough mating press deep in her butt, making her cheeks clap once again. Arin screams as her swollen butthole keeps taking pounding after pounding.

You move sideways, anally pounding Arin in spooning this time, your balls hitting her cunt while she fingers her clit. "Oh God, fuck," she moans as you grab her right thigh and stretch her asshole. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she repeats. "I told you to shut up," you say, placing your left hand over her mouth.

Arin is so overwhelmed she starts mixing up languages: "Me encanta the way you fuck my culo, papí," she says right after you go back to choking her. Your balls hit perfectly into her cheeks, making her moan softly. "Ram that fucking ass," she begs, but you have different plans, going back to her pussy as soon as she says those words.

Arin gets softer. "You treat me so well, Daddy," she says as you stretch her pussy out, her eyes flowing with tears of joy. "I love how you use both my fucking holes, Daddy," she continues. You two grow more passionate as you kiss Arin's mouth and neck while never stopping fucking her tight sex. "Keep going, daddy; put that cock deep in my fucking holes," Arin says.

"Slap my fucking titties," Arin demands, wanting to get used like a toy. You follow, hitting her boobs right at her throbbing nipples. Arin laughs as you duck under to suck her tits while still pounding her cunt nonstop, before surprising her and putting her back under a mating press that makes her body slide onde again.

"Fuck, it's so deep inside me," Arin moans as you keep attacking her pussy while up in the air, submitting her to a deep pounding that makes her cheeks jiggle on top of the table as your hips clash hard against them. "AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK!" Arin yells as her pussy clenches all over your cock. You could breed her at the spot, but you hold that urge, pulling her out so Arin can taste her wet juices.

"Fuck my little dirty mouth," Arin begs as your cock approaches her face, pounding her as if you had never left her pussy. "Ahhh, yes, use my face like that," Arin says as you finish, getting number after over 30 minutes of animalesque pounding. And you keep using her face, placing it on the edge of the table, and plowing her throat while lifting her skirt to get the perfect view of her amazing ass. 

At this point, Arin just wants to be a fleshlight. "AHHHH YESSS!" she gleefully screams once you shove your balls deep in her mouth. You push her to the other side of the table, taking a peek under her skirt to finger her pussy while fucking her face, amazed that her specs still haven't fallen off even with her head upside down. Arin bobs her head to meet your thursts as you slow down a bit to massage her cunt. "Holy fuck," you say as she shakes her head all over that meat despite facing down the floor, letting her face fuck your cock instead of fucking her face yourself.

"I want to sit on that cock, daddy," Arin demands. You pick one of the chairs around the table and sit on it, letting Arin slide your cock in her sore asshole, this time in reverse cowgirl, with one of her legs in the chair and another on the floor, giving you an amazing ride. "Daddy still likes to fuck me in the ass like that?" she asks.

Arin puts both legs on your thighs and gives you an amazing anal ride. The more you stretch her out, the more she wants. "Look at this cock so deep in my fucking asshole," Arin brags about her skills, fully impaling her sore anus into that big cock. "Do you like the way it feels in my ass, Daddy?" Arin asks as she keeps talking dirty. "Look how I sit on this cock all the way down in my ass," she continues.

Arin spreads her legs and lets her cheeks clap as she rides your cock, fingerging herself as she increases the pace of her ride. You grab her by the neck, and her butthole clenches even further. "I want to cum with your cock deep in my asshole," Arin says as she continues to bounce, reaching her orgasm shortly after. "Oh, I fucking love it," she says as she stops, giving you free reign to finger her clit and make it squirt nonstop as her legs close and she climaxes.

"Please cum on my face; drop that jizz all over my little, slutty face. I want to feel your warm and hot jizz in my face,  Daddy." Arin rests on the table, recovering from her final orgasm. You jerk your cock off on top of her, and soon she gets what she wants as you coat her specs full of sperm before filling the cheeks in her face with your white paint. Arin stays there, admiring your work of art in her now cum-filled face, sticking her tongue out in pleasure.

"You drained your fucking balls so well all over me," Arin says.

"Oh thanks. I have to go; it was nice fucking, I mean, meeting you again," you reply, as you notice it's already past midnight and you still haven't got back from the concert.

"It's fine," Arin says, with one final condition. "As long as you come back tomorrow to fuck my ass again,"

Damn, she's an insatiable anal queen, isn't she?

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - SWORD AND SHEATH

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : After another slew at sea, you and Zoro have the ship all to yourselves as the crew restocks up on the island. They say that curiosity kills the cat, but what happens when you've tamed the beast?

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. zoro roronoa x f!reader ; swordplay, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, pet names (baby, pretty girl), mentions of squirting, lots of teasing and praise — WC : 5.2k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ First Quarter ! ꒱ ― Kinktober Masterlist

Each glide of the polish-infused cloth along the Wado Ichimonji is slow, refined. Zoro was using his practiced hand to do the process he’s done thousands of times with the blade he cherishes most.

It was a form of art — the way the blade would be reborn with the shine it was always meant to have, no longer weighed down by the blood, dirt, and sweat that would so often coat it.

The sun beats down on him as he continues his ritual. Sword maintenance was just as important as training; it was cathartic, another form of meditation that Zoro relied on to center himself, grow stronger, and keep his tools as efficient as he could. 

Wiping away the horrors each weapon has seen makes him feel a little more cleansed himself. Zoro has never been one to shy away from a fight or doing what he needs to do in order to survive, but the process just reminds him that he won the battle; he’s the one who gets to clean his blades and move onto his next enemy — the next step in his dream.

His wandering mind can’t help but drift back to you — his bright star in the night sky, the one that silently guides him along and encourages his every step on his journey, even going as far as lighting the way when the path seems too dark. 

After a few moments of being with you, he too feels the weight of the blood on his hands fade away as soon as you lovingly take them in yours. The tender skin of your palms kissing, the buzz of being grounded by each squeeze you grant him and he finds himself able to begin again.

Seagulls chirp overhead as he works, polishing his blades with intent, his focus unshakeable even though the world around him demands attention. The gentle lull of the waves, the whispering breeze in the air, he was able to tune it all out.

But the moment you came waltzing onto the deck, his ears perked up and his nose scrunched, signaling that he knew you were there and mentally preparing himself for whatever you had planned next. If only he knew.

“What do you want now?” The last word dies in his throat as he takes you in, freezing in place. You only see it because you know him so well, and have studied his face and all of his expressions far and wide. 

The subtle widening of his eye, barely a fraction of a difference but it’s a difference all the same. The stoic mask he so often wears, acting indifferent to things such as clothes, slips away as no one could ever ward off the power of beauty - especially yours.

The facade begins to chip away as a blush spreads across his face, gears turning in his brain to find something to say as you make your way over to him.

Because today, the Sunny was docked at an island for a routine supply run and you were all too quick to volunteer you and Zoro to stay back and watch the ship together. He should've known right then and there that you were up to no good but your syrupy sweet eagerness disarmed him. 

But now you were stalking closer to him, dressed up entirely in his clothes – or at least some of them. Adorned in his notable green robe, his haramaki, and completed with his bandana securely tied around your head. His gaze rakes over your figure, taking in the way you look wearing one of his favorite outfits. Swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobs in anticipation. He can’t help but feel his throat close up and trap all the words he wishes to say behind a wall of surprise.

“What do you think?” You ask, your lips bending in a coy manner. 

A blush blooms across his tanned skin in a slow crawl, blossoming into a darker shade the more you twirl in his robe that very clearly shows you’re not wearing his pants underneath it.

His jaw clenched, unable to form any words as he continues to drink you in. This was the last thing he expected from you today, but he really should’ve known better.

“You’re blushing.” You grin, going to poke his cheek. But his reflexes were too sharp, instantly swatting your hand away before turning his head away from you.

“Am not! Shut up!” He hisses out, the blush only deepening as you call him out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, woman.”

“Don’t I?” You move to get back in his line of sight, that disarmingly sweet yet taunting smile still resting on your lips. “Just tell me what you think of the outfit, Zo.”

“You’re wearing my clothes.” He points out, stating the obvious. You don’t bother to hide the way you roll your eyes.

“Very astute of you. Did you have to use your Haki to come to that conclusion?” 

Without another word, Zoro throws you over his shoulder, marching back into the ship and straight for the bunks. You squeal, accusing him of being a brute as you lazily pound your fists against his back. 

Zoro slaps your ass with a sadistic grin that you don’t have the pleasure of seeing before he begins to squeeze and knead the plush flesh, unable to move his firm hand away from it.

He makes his way into the cramped room. It wasn’t his favorite place to take you but it was the closest and climbing up the crow's nest would only cause a delay between him and what he desired most.

After closing the heavy wooden door with the back of his boot, he tosses you onto the bed, letting you sprawl out for him while he places his swords to the side – perfectly lined up as always.

“Wearing my clothes around like this…” Zoro trails off as his eye zeroes in on the way the robe slides off of your shoulder, teasingly exposing the sliver of your chest. He can feel his face heat up all over again. “Are you really not wearing anything under this?”

“Well, the pants didn’t fit me and you don’t normally wear a shirt under this.” The impassive manner in which you said that did not hold a candle to the way your eyes were fired up with a diabolical mirth wrapped up with mischief. Always playing the little minx that would find a way to burrow under his skin and make a home there just to torture him. Or so he says.

“You little...” Zoro quickly crawls over you, caging you in under him, elbows digging into the mattress by your head. “You make it so hard for me sometimes.”

“Do I? Let me feel—” You reach toward his pants but his hand encircles your wrist.

“Oi! That’s not what I meant.” he almost hisses out. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them over your head on the flattened pillow on his bunk.

The thread of control he was clinging onto was no match for the ember of desire you spark in him. One single strike and it would be burnt out, turning into ash and falling right into the palm of your hand. 

“I know.” You giggle. The damn giggle that never fails to cause something within him to flutter, stirring it around until he had no choice but to act on it. 

Surging forward, his lips aggressively capture yours. There’s no room for easing into it, just a clash of teeth knocking together, swirling with a mix of heady groans and needy moans.

But that’s one of his favorite things about kissing you — how you were just unabashed about how messy it would get. Swapping spit through the sheer force of each other's tongues shoving their way into hot, receptive mouths.

The amount of passion and unspoken feelings he’s able to express through this simple act is something he flourishes at, excelling at unraveling you. Gripping your cheeks, he tilts your head back slightly so he can deepen the kiss — as if he was trying to spill the words that stubbornly sat on the tip of his tongue and have it reach the bottom of your heart.

The call for air was growing too difficult to ignore and reluctantly he pulled back, letting the string of saliva snap and drip down your chins. He leans down, kissing the droplet off of your skin, ingesting as much as he possibly can before looking at you.

You look back at him through half-lidded eyes, melting into the bed already from the ferocity of the kiss. His steely eye trails away from your swollen, lust-bitten lips in favor of taking in the way you’re panting under him. Need takes over him as he reaches for your — his — clothes.

Zoro has disrobed himself many times, but he’s never had to take it off of someone else like this. He knows the way it unravels open and leaves his chest all exposed before he fights someone, but this isn’t one of those times.

With a gentleness that only love could bring, he languidly undoes the robe, pulling back a bit so he can see how the green fabric bunches around your sides, your heaving chest now out on display for him.

Peppering a few kisses down your jaw, his tongue trails your neck as he works his way down to your collarbone and your supple chest. Each delicious drag has you squirming under him, whining about him being a tease.

“You’re one to talk.” Zoro gruffs out with a bite of sarcasm, giving your nipple a quick pinch. He relishes in the yelp of his name that you beautifully let out before carefully trailing his slick tongue along your skin. 

The way you mewl as his lips enclose your pert bud only reinforces the primal desire that’s been raging inside of him since you first came out dressed in that damn robe.

After giving your other breast the same treatment, he presses his lips in the middle of your chest and lets it linger so he can inhale one of the sweetest parts of your body — the one that lays closest to your heart.

Zoro presses wet, open-mouthed kisses all along your stomach, moving further down until easily slipping your panties off and tossing them behind him.

Running his fingers along your glistening folds, he holds back a groan at the strings of arousal already clinging to him.

“Already so wet f’me.” His eye was trained at the apex between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. “Gonna prep you now.”

Bringing his face closer, he shuts his eye in a hazy bliss as he takes in your scent. The action always made you squirm but he was addicted to every single aspect of your cunt. He could never get enough of your musk, knowing that heaven was only a taste away.

Before you could complain about him taking his time, he dives in.

It wasn't often that Zoro was in a position to praise you relentlessly while his head was normally buried in your heat where you took everything so well for him. 

So, he’s learned to show you his adoration by the precise swirl of his tongue, making out with your clit and giving into every one of your demands. Groaning against your cunt as soon as he got his first taste, never quite getting his fill of it no matter how much he lapped at it.

“Zo – fuck.” The words rush out from your lungs and assimilate into the hazy tension that’s hanging in the sex-filled air. “Feels so good.”

His hands grip your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder before moving to grab your ass, digging into the plushness and bringing you impossibly closer as he continues his assault.

“Tastes s’fucking good.” He slurs, the sound presses directly against your clit. Zoro's attention flickered back up to you, dark and stormy eye swirling around with a primal hunger as if he couldn’t ever get enough. “My sweet girl.”

You let out a soft whine as you clutch his hair, guiding him even closer as his tongue slips into your entrance.

He keeps at it, pinching your thigh — a demanding little code he uses when he wants to hear you more. Your saccharine moans, addictingly lewd mewls, and honeyed murmurs of praise.

“Please don’t stop, ah, ‘m getting close!” There was no way Zoro would stop. Not even if he wanted to tease you, not when he was so lost in your taste that all he wanted to do was let you pull him under your current and drown in it.

He vigorously continues to lap at your entrance, attempting to collect every drop of your sweet essence. His nose nudges your clit and he can feel your thighs begin to tremble, locking his head in place. He moves to focus his attention there, the flat of Zoro’s tongue adds more pressure onto the throbbing bud.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back raises from the mattress when Zoro collects your puffy clit in his mouth, sucking as hard as he can. You choke back a whimper, letting out a noise you’ve hardly ever released before as you claw at his head, humping his face for more.

“Zoro — fuck! Wait, it’s too much!" The words melt into an elongated moan, losing yourself to the drowsy delirium that zoro is spelling out against the bundle of nerves. He gives out a resounding grunt, gripping you tighter in encouragement. 

It’s all you need to let go.

Thank god no one else was on the ship because they might’ve heard the way you cried out his name in ultimate bliss as the taut band within you fully snapped. Zoro didn’t stop, lapping up the slick that gushed from your sweet pussy.

The bottom half of his face glistens in your arousal and he was absolutely drunk off of it as if it was a bottle of the finest sake in the world.

“Keep 'em spread open for me baby, ‘m not done yet,” Zoro said, sitting back on his haunches and taking in your already fucked out expression. “Need you to do that again.”

After sliding off his pants, he grips the base of his cock, giving it a few tentative pumps as his eyes trail back over your body, covered in a sheen of desire. 

If he didn’t crave to be inside of you so badly he would’ve come all over you, making you as messy as possible. His dick twitches at the thought, heat curling in his gut as he imagines you covered in the white of his essence.

“Zoro.” You gasp out, hands digging into the slightly sweaty sheets. The desperation and utter need that coats your husky voice almost does him in. But you’ve had too much control over him today, and he had to gain some of that back.

“Look at you.” Zoro's voice is low, dark and merciless. The deep desire that overtakes him and makes his words more gravely and coarse, sanding over your skin so gratifying it leaves your hips bucking up for more. The sight below him is surely one of his favorites and he plans on drawing it out for as long as he can. “All spread out for me in my bed, still in my clothes.”

Zoro leans forward, lightly tapping his cock against your sticky folds and nudging it through to your entrance, just resting it at your opening, not yet pushing in. His fingers dig deeper into your waist, keeping you in place before you can think about rolling your hips against him, trying to suck him in with all your might. 

“You’re so mean.” A pitiful pout rests on your pretty lips and he almost gives in. Almost. But he knows you so well by now, knows that you’re used to getting exactly what you want and it only makes him want to ruin you more. To put you in a place where all you want is him, all you crave is his touch. And you’re teetering right on the edge, only a simple nudge and you’ll be falling right into his trap. 

“Yeah?” One of his hands returns to his cock, reddened tip angrily staring at you as he starts to pump himself over your mound, spreading his precum all over his length as he preps himself for you. “That’s not going to get you what you want though.”

“Please, Zoro.” You barely breathe out, your need for him so great that it starts to turn painful, the dull ache spreading through your body like a wildfire, screaming out for relief as the flames of desire consume you. You’ve had a taste but you needed more.  The only thing that would satiate you was his cock sliding deep within you. “Please, I'm sorry. Please don’t tease me, come on.”

The whine in your voice has his dick twitching in his hand, ego fueling the blood coursing through his veins. Zoro wasn’t a power-hungry man, he never cared for it in the same way most people did. He liked being strong, he demanded respect, but never wanted to lead — to rule.

But that all changed whenever he’d have you sprawled out beneath him. feeling like the king of the world as one of the most desired women only has eyes for him, begging for his cock, yearning for his love. 

He’d give into you every time, his heart too weak to win against the love he had for you, but he tried to stave it off as much as he could.

“Only if you think you can handle it.” He smirks, tip catching against your clit, your body jolting forward. “See? You’re already so sensitive just from my mouth.”

“Dammit Zoro.” Another mewl that his cock leaps at. Frustration etches across your features, water pooling in your eyes as you continue to paw at him. It’s what he was waiting for — his pretty girl reduced to putty in his hand, ready to be played with. “Please.”

Something possesses him with the plea that pierces his heart — takes over the last cognitive brain cell he has as he lets out an exaggerated spit, the glob landing on his length.

Your breath hitches as he finally pushes himself all the way in, the stretch splitting you open to the point that no noise can come out, finally feeling full of what you’ve been waiting for all day. 

“You turned me into this — fuck — made me like this,.” Zoro swears, his arm wrapping around your back and pulling you flush against him as he feels the way your greedy cunt keeps him snugly in place.

“Are you really complaining about that?” Your voice almost slips into a whine as he pulls back out a little before bullying his way through you as your cunt accommodates his girth — eagerly welcoming him back in. 

“So tight, look at that.” He ignores your snark, opting to fixate on the way you’re swallowing him whole, slack-jawed and practically drooling over the sight. “Made for me.”

You clench at his words which rewards you with one of his sinful grunts, his head bowing slightly as you pulse around his throbbing length.

“Mhm,” You hum, digging your nails into his shoulders, little crescent moons blooming in its place. He lets out a hiss, snapping his hips all the way back in, nudging against your cervix. “Just fuck me already.”

“Always running your mouth off like a damn brat.” He glares down at you but there’s no bite to it — not with the amused crinkles that cradle his eyes with care.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Famous last words.

But Zoro didn’t do what he usually did; flipping you over and fucking you deep in the mattress until the only thing your mouth can do is sing out his name like a mantra.

His eye held the secrets of unspoken words, a question that he refused to waste his breath on — not when he already knew how to decipher the language of his gaze.

You trust me?

As easy as breathing.

Breathy pants escape his lungs as he keeps a steady pace, looking at you. No matter how many times he’s had you under him, you never fail to weaken him.

“I think it’s time we complete your little ensemble here.” 

“Huh?” Zoro doesn’t answer you as he reaches for the Wado Ichimonji. You shift under him in anticipation.

“Relax, baby. I just want you to hold this for me.”

The heavy hilt lays in your mouth, muffling any of the moans that tried to escape it. Zoro's calloused hand runs along your cheek, down your jaw and chin as he appraises the view before him.

The look in his steely gaze was one you were familiar with but with an edge of possession — pride.

Countless times this treasured weapon has been wielded in his own mouth, fighting to protect himself, but more importantly, his crew. Seeing you laid out under him with a lust-blown look in your eye as tears brim your lashes is something else entirely.

“That's it. Keep holding onto it,” His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he slowly begins to thrust back into you. “Just like that.”

You let out a soft whine that sounded like a muffled version of his name. Compulsion drives him to quicken his pace, moving slow and steady until your body jiggles under the ferocity of each stroke.

“There you are. Keep it there for me and I'll take care of you, alright?” 

True to his word, Zoro keeps pounding into you, his other hand trailing down your body and grabbing every bit of you he can get his hand on before his fingers catch your neglected nub between them.

The way you effortlessly clean his dirty hands, having his sword fit in your mouth like this makes it feel like it’s being cleansed in the most pure form possible. Each rapid rock of his hips has your jaw clenching down against it further, all of your enticing noises are muffled by the intricately woven hilt.

“Fuck, perfect.” The praise spills out of his mouth and pools into your gut. “So fucking perfect.”

The hilt started to slip, threatening to clatter against the floor and finishing all the work he had done on it earlier. 

“Hold it.” He hisses, “Don’t let it fall.”

His hips urgently move faster, thrusting harder into you as you try your best to grip the sword in your mouth. But he knows how strenuous it can be on his teeth and jaw, so his hand slips up to cup yours. 

Once you steady the sword, his hand trails down the sheath but his eye never leaves yours. With a bated breath, he begins to slide the sheath off, watching as your eyes widen in curiosity but make no protest to stop him.

The blade was now out, facing him and gleaming under the rays of light that poured into the room from the tiny window. The sight had his hips stuttering — the element of risk now flirting with his innermost desires. 

You were perfectly safe in his arms, he was the one who should be worried. He knows how sharp those blades are, how a tiny graze could pierce his skin.

Yet the siren call of the silver glint beckons him as it sits so prettily in your mouth — a tantalizing sight. You may be the one under him but he was the one surrendering to your power.

Many more possibilities flashed in his mind, darker desires that had him pressing his chest flush against yours, the Wado Ichimonji only a few inches away from him.

But perhaps another time he could fully indulge in the temptations that swam around in his mind, wondering how far you two could go for each other.

For now, he missed kissing you, missed your lips on his, consuming the very air from his lungs and replacing it with your sweet noises that breathe him back to life. So he bends down further, expertly taking the hilt in his mouth and pulling it from yours.

He gives you a few deep thrusts before he rises up, ready to put the sword aside but your arm stops him.

The look in your eyes mirrors the same desire that licks at his gut, and he knows you two are on the same page — just like always. 

“You want me to keep it out?” Zoro can’t hide the tone of surprise in his voice as he lazily humps against your hips. You give him a shy nod. “Why?”

“It could be fun.” The way you’re looking at him right now is killing him, slowly shredding away all of his worries and pushing him into the pits of temptation. 

“It could be dangerous.”

“But isn’t that exciting?” Zoro swallows hard. It could very well be exciting, showcasing your trust for one another but…

“I don't want to hurt you.” He couldn't live with that, knowing that one of his blades had hurt you in a way you didn’t want. He'd rather slit his stomach open than do that. 

“You wouldn’t but I'll tell you if it does, I promise.” You reach up and caress his cheeks with a tenderness that has him choking for air. “Our safe word can be… sake.”

“Okay.” The unease that previously rested on his shoulders flows down his back and far away from him as he lets out a soft chuckle. “Sake it is, you ready baby?”

After a quick nod, Zoro brings the Wado back between your two joined bodies.

The cool metal kisses your skin as it trails along a precise path with absolutely zero intention to harm. But to have the infamous pirate hunter Zoro hover over you, a dark gaze latched onto the point of his katana to your skin that’s budding with gooseflesh sends a chill down your spine.

It takes everything in you not to arch at the thrill, the simple act could nick your skin and end this before it even begins.

“How's that?” Zoro's voice sounds a million miles away as your blood thrums loudly in your ear. The swordsman lets out a groan as you salaciously clench around him, his fist tightening around the hilt as he continues to glide the metal along your skin. 

“So good,” Your breath hitches as he continues to graze it over your collarbone. “Knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Zo.”

“Never.” He gruffs out, trying to keep his eye open although the fluttering of your walls tempts him to shut them in bliss. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out like this.

Trust could be hard to find in this new world, he was lucky to find a crew that he knew would always have his back throughout everything. but this? This was so much more than that.

To be able to have you in the most vulnerable position imaginable with a blade dancing along your skin, and enjoying it not because of the act itself, but because of the trust and respect the two of you have built for each other, growing into something he’d never dream of attaining. 

If he wasn’t careful, he could finish right now as pleasure shoots down his spine, desperately begging to fill you up. But the last thing he’d ever do was leave you ever wanting more. 

Gently putting the blade aside, he ravenously crashes back into you with a new spark of ardor — chest to chest, ferociously driving into your cunt before his lips meet yours once again.

He kissed you and tasted the familiar steel, but mixed with your sweetness that he’d never stop chasing as long any time he’d have to put this blade in his mouth.

“So fuckin’ good.” The words sink into your lips, unable to move away from you for too long. His hips erratically move now, no set rhythm as they chase the high you both desperately seek. Your nails claw into his back and force a guttural groan out of him, wanting nothing more than for you to mark up his whole body. “So fucking good for me.”

Zoro never minded pain, it came with the territory of who he is. But having you inflict it on him was the sweetest sin he’s ever known, his body bursting with pleasure as it threatens to come undone and feed into all of your desires.

“Zo-!” you gasp out, tears brimming with droplets of devotion that he can’t wait to lick up. “‘m close!”

The sweet sound of your cries only fuels him more.

“Go ahead baby, let go.” His gaze is trained on your expressions, soaking them up as it morphs into an unyielding force of pleasure.

As your back arches up into him, he’s quick to flatten his palm there, keeping you flush against him. He can feel every tremor and tremble, each of your nerves and neurons firing off and coursing through your veins.

A wave of ecstasy crashes over your body, freezing each of your limbs in place and threatens to drag you to oblivion. 

“Almost there, just a little longer.” Zoro pumps into you, your cunt clamping down on him to the point he almost has to pull out as you squirt all over his lower half and the already messed up sheets. “That’s it, fuck yes-“

Zoro begins to release in your cunt with a grunt of your name, letting you milk his cock as his body shudders in the eternal bliss you so readily provide him. He pulls out at the last rope of cum, letting it land on your mound before he nudged your clit with his softening cock, ensuring to make a mess all over your pussy.

“Zoro!” your body jolts, fingers gripping his bicep. “‘m sensitive.”

“Then come here baby.” Zoro pulls you into his strong arms, carefully eyeing the blade that was still unsheathed and still set aside. 

Zoro's calloused fingers catch your earlobe, gently massaging it as he inspects it.

“You know, you still need one more piece.” Zoro's gaze is intense as it sets on you. His hands trail down your body, lightly massaging it as he works his way down in a soothing manner.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“When the others get back, we’re going into town so we can get you your own pair of earrings.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Just like me.”

“Really?” The mind fogginess of the shared desire breaks away from the way beams of light emit when you smile at him.

He nods, brushing his lips alongside the temple of your head. Zoro presses his nose into your hair and inhales it.

“Quit sniffing me.” You let out an amused scoff.

“Nah, you just smell so damn good like this.” His lips move to kiss along your face, pressing into your neck before inhaling once again.

“You mean sweaty?”

“Drenched in sweat, arousal and me.” His voice is low in your ear and you crinkle your nose at the strange, but endearing compliment.

“Freak.” You tease, snuggling into him, feeling the way his muscles ripple around you in his strong, unrelenting hold.

“Takes one to know one.” He chuckles, feeling his body start to settle from the intensity of his high, melting into you and the mattress as a nap threatens to take hold. But he just had one more question. “So, if you’re dressed as me, does that mean you can drink sake as well as me?”

“Maybe we should find out.”

tags: @thesunxwentblack @autumnstuffs