#this is why I can’t maintain good relationships | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enviedear · 5 months ago

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stay, little valentine, stay ｡𖦹° jason todd

🎧ྀི your roommate makes the fateful mistake of passing you, his roommate, off as his girlfriend to his boundary ignorant family. now the both of you are tasked with maintaining a faux romance for the entirety of a dinner at wayne manor—simple enough, right?

wc 4.2k | roommate!jason, lowercase intended, fem!reader, brief mention of booze, cursing, mutual pining, two idiots fake dating…truly what more can i say (a lot, so). please, enjoy my 'funny little valentines' day special ᯓᡣ𐭩

“there’s not enough room in the freezer for the ice trays. either move your booze or enjoy an ice free apartment,” your voice is tinged with annoyance as you stare down your long-term roommate.

he’s laid back on the shared couch, right cushion side, staring back at you with a impish grin on his face, “or, you could finally throw out that cake you bought for your ‘promotion’ party. since, the fuckin’ promotion never happened and it takes up half of my freezer.”

“our freezer.” you add. “and fuck you, i could still get that promotion any day now. i can always unfreeze it—good as new.”

jason seems to be beginning to tune you out as your eyes drift to a new letter on the fridge, stuck on with an ‘i hate gotham’ magnet. the print is fancy, cursive, bold black ink—YOU’RE INVITED—it reads.

“what are we invited to?” you ask, ice tray debacle not at all at the forefront of your mind now. not when you can tell your roommate’s got an invite from his estranged past guardian, none other than bruce wayne.

he hums a reply at first, still zeroed in to the rerun of some prison show. when he finally picks up on your question he sours, visibly, “some idiotic anniversary dinner for dick and kori. we’re not going, you weren’t even invited.”

you pout, “i want to go! why can’t we go?”

jason’s got a stern look on his face now, and you’ve always found it so unnerving how quickly he musters it up—usually so relaxed in your shared domain.

“we’re not going because i told a lie, and if we show up…everyone will know.” he groans, “just drop it, i need a little more time to ride this out.”

suddenly more intrigued, you prance over to him on the couch, flopping down beside him, “a lie?”

“don’t. just drop it.” he huffs at the obvious annoyance on your face, “it’s just stupid.”

“c’mon, we know all of each others ‘stupid’ shit. what was the lie, todd?” you’re being genuine, riddling your appeasement with a sweetly sardonic tone.

finally, after a good minute of staring at a very completive jason, he cracks, “i might have alluded to being in a relationship with you.”

your smile cracks before he even finishes his admission, oscillating between confusion and sheer giddiness—trying to halt the part of your brain that wants to imagine a life where a relationship isn’t such a laughable idea.

you curl your lips to stifle your last giggles before looking back up at him, “why?”

jason shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the question. his eyes dart away from yours, finding sudden interest in the television screen, "bruce kept...asking about my life here. if i was settling in, if i was happy." he runs a hand through his dark hair, "and then, all the others got involved, asking to set me up with people. i needed them to stop asking. and you-" he pauses, scratching the back of his neck, "you were the most believable option.”

you stare at him, unblinking, trying to process his words. "most believable option…” you repeat slowly, testing how the phrase feels on your tongue. a warmth spreads across your chest-whether from flattery or something else entirely, you're not quite sure. "so, what? think i can’t pretend to be your girlfriend for a dinner?" the idea sends an unwelcome flutter through your chest. you curse yourself.

jason's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite read. "you'd do that?" he asks, his voice carrying an unusual note of vulnerability.

"of course," you reply, trying to keep your tone light and casual. "what are roommates for? plus, free fancy dinner at wayne manor? count me in." you're aiming for nonchalance, but your heart is racing at the prospect.

jason's jaw clenches, a tell-tale sign of him thinking too hard, "it's not that simple. they'll know it's fake. bruce especially—dick and tim too—they’re too observant for their own good.”

"oh please," you wave off his concern, settling deeper into the couch cushions, "we've lived together for what, two years now? we already act like an old married couple anyway. i know your coffee order, you know my work schedule. we share groceries, we fight about ice trays—“ you gesture broadly to the kitchen, "it's practically method acting at this point."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, with an expression you can't quite read. "you'd really do that? pretend to be with me in front of my entire family?"

"of course i would," you say softly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "what are friends for if not to fake date each other to avoid awkward family dinners?" you try to keep your tone light, ignoring the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you that rare, genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"fine." he finally concedes, shrugging his shoulders, "but we need to get our story straight. no holes, no gaps—i figured we'd keep it close to the truth. roommates who gradually realized there was something more." he pauses, then adds, "the best lies are built on truth or some shit, right?”

you nod, and start crafting the imagined romance with jason. over the next hour, you both piece together your relationship timeline—how you first bonded over late night takeout after his patrols, the way you'd patch him up after particularly rough nights, and how somewhere between shared grocery runs and movie marathons, faux you fell for him. or him for you—the both of you can't agree on that just yet.

you try not to focus on how easy it is to imagine, how some of these made-up memories feel more like documentation rather than fabrication.

"okay, and when did we actually get together?" you ask, pulling your knees up to your chest, trying to ignore how invested you're becoming in this alternate reality.

"three months ago." jason answers quickly, too quickly, like he's already thought about this. "after that night I came home really beaten up, remember? you were so pissed at me for being reckless."

you remember that night vividly—how he ever thinks you could forget, you’re unsure.

him stumbling through the window at three in the morning, blood seeping through his stupid jacket. how your hands shook as you stitched him up, how quiet he was, how close his blanched face was to yours. you’d attributed the racing of your heart to fear, but now…not so much.

"yeah," you say softly. "that works."

the rest of the week flies by in a blur of preparation and anxiety, until suddenly it's the night of the dinner, and you're standing in front of your mirror, wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

you're wearing a deep red-toned dress that hits just above your knee—something you'd bought on a whim (a fifty percent off sale) months ago and never found the right occasion for. jason had given it an approving nod when you'd shown him, which somehow makes you feel more nervous than reassured as you stare yourself down.

"ready?" jason's voice comes from behind you, and you turn to find him adjusting his tie in the hallway mirror. he looks…different. good different. the suit fits him perfectly, and you wonder briefly if alfred had something to do with that. the older man has a penchant for doting over your overgrown battling ram of a roommate.

"as i'll ever be." you manage, trying to keep your voice steady. "but, um, how convincing do you think we need to be?"

jason's eyes meet yours in the mirror, "enough to fool the world's greatest detective," he sighs, "and his army of protégés." he turns to face you properly, and something in his expression softens, but he looks away too quickly for you to discern, "you look really pretty."

"thanks." you mumble, fiddling with your clutch. "so do you. very…boyfriend."

he laughs, but it sounds slightly strained. "that's the idea, isn't it?" he offers his arm to you, "shall we?"

the drive to wayne manor is muted. jason's knuckles are white on the shifter, and you find yourself reaching over to place your hand over his without thinking. he startles slightly, but he doesn't pull away—even keeps contact as he switches gears.

"hey." you start softly, "we've got this. we know each other better than anyone, we live together. besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

jason sighs, his hand tightening slightly under yours. "you clearly don’t know how bruce and tim get at these things. anniversary or not, they'll smell blood in the water if we slip up."

"relax," you assure him, glancing out at the looming trees lining the driveway. "i doubt they’ll care about your relationship timeline when they’re busy fawning over how happy dick and kori are."

jason shoots you a look that clearly says 'don't tempt fate', but his grip on the wheel loosens slightly. "just…follow my lead. and if it gets too weird, we can always fake a medical emergency."

"that...is always an option." you grin, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips when he smiles back.

the manor looms up ahead, and as jason pulls up to the gate, you feel his hand squeeze yours briefly, almost indecipherable.

"last chance to back out." he murmurs.

you intertwine your fingers with his, ignoring the voice in your head that whispers how right it feels. "not a chance, todd. you're stuck with me."

the gates open, and as you drive up the winding driveway, you're unable to shake the feeling that you're about to cross a line you can't come back from. but with jason's hand so warm and relaxed in yours, you're not sure you want to.

jason parks the car in front of the house at the partition, "in case we need a quick exit." he shrugs.

"i think you're too worried, jason. i doubt they'll even question it. you said they wanted you dating anyway, i bet they'll just be happy." your voice is quiet, hand hovering in front of the doorbell.

he sighs, "you don't know these people, they question everything."

before you can reply or try to alleviate his doubts, the double doors fly open. you grab jason's hand in your own and pull him closer, just as alfred sets eyes on the pair of you.

alfred's eyes visibly brighten at the sight of both of you, his normally reserved expression softening into something fonder, "master jason," he greets, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "and miss, how lovely for you to be joining tonight. everyone is very excited to meet you, i fear my few stories were not enough to quell them."

you smile, a real genuine one too, "it's nice to see you again alfred! i hope we're not too late—jason decided to change his tie last minute."

alfred hums and beckons you both inside, "fashionable tardiness, miss. i assure you."

jason, hand now sweaty in yours, chuckles, "he's being nice since you're with me. he's usually irate by my lateness."

you shoot jason a pointed look as alfred continues. "master richard and miss kori have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. their anniversary dinner is a rare occasion they’ve pulled out all the stops for, you see."

jason grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, overachievers.

the sound of multiple voices echos through from a room, and you feel jason's grip tighten slightly. you've heard stories about his family for years now—mostly complaints, occasionally fond remembrances, and everything in between during late night conversations over takeout.

"master bruce insisted on formal dining tonight." alfred mentions, though his tone suggests mild disapproval. you've learned over your visits that alfred much prefers when the family dines in the kitchen.

jason scoffs quietly, "because god forbid we eat somewhere comfortable." you squeeze his hand again, a silent reminder of your emergency exit strategy. two years of living together has given you an extensive library of non-verbal communications.

the dining room, when you enter, is exactly as alfred has described it countless times—grandiose in a way that speaks to old money and older traditions. the table stretches long and elegant, set with what you recognize as the ‘good china’ alfred often mentions.

your muscles tense slightly as you finally notice all of the eyes on you—staring and studying—you have to think before you step.

bruce wayne rises first, and despite all of jason's stories, despite seeing him on tv and in newspapers, you're struck by his presence. "jason." he greets, then turns his attention to you. "we've all heard quite a bit about you from alfred, though significantly less from my son."

you feel jason's posture stiffen, but you're prepared for this. "oh, you know how jason is with sharing things." you say easily, the words flowing naturally after years of defending his privacy to nosy neighbors and concerned coworkers. "though, alfred's probably told you all my embarrassing stories by now."

dick grayson—exactly as handsome as the magazines suggest—breaks into a wide grin. "actually, alfred's been surprisingly tight lipped. just kept saying we should ask jason ourselves." his eyes sparkle with mischief. "which, of course, got us nowhere."

"some things don't need to be broadcast to the whole family." jason grumbles, but his thumb is mindlessly drawing small circles on your hand, a gesture you've learned means he's more comfortable than he's letting on.

"oh, but this is so wonderful!" a melodic, cheerful voice chimes in, and you glance up to see koriand’r—kori to most—seated beside dick, her vibrant curly red hair catching the light as she smiles radiantly. "you must forgive us for prying, but jason does not often share such…delightful surprises."

"by 'us,' she means her." dick cuts in with a smirk, earning a playful nudge from kori.

"yes, and what of it?" she replies lightly, turning her attention fully to you. "you see, jason is like a tamaranian grisnek—so fierce and protective on the outside, but underneath, he is all kindness and loyalty. how could we not be curious about the person who has captured his heart?"

"great. glad we're all analyzing my personal life at the dinner table." jason mutters, though his hand stays on yours, his grip steady.

"do not be fooled," kori says in a whisper that is anything but subtle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "jason pretends to be irritated, but inside, i know he is glowing with happiness."

your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself, and jason sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging with mock defeat. "i think i'm gonna need another drink."

kori leans back, laughing softly, the sound warm and lilting, as she looks between you and jason once more. "you are lovely." she adds sincerely, her tone softening. "and jason could not have chosen better."

tim drake, who you've only seen in passing when he's stopped by your apartment to drop off miscellaneous ‘private’ documents, raises an eyebrow. "yes, it's all very sweet." he hums it almost, tone carefully neutral but eyes sharp, studying you.

"sweet indeed." you agree, letting some of your genuine fondness for jason color your voice. it's not hard to fake being in love with someone when you've spent two years memorizing their coffee order, patching up their wounds, and falling asleep on their shoulder during movie marathons. the hard part, you're starting to realize, might be pretending it's all pretend.

bruce barely looks up from his plate as he speaks again, cutting through your blissful thoughts of jason, “a shame i wasn’t aware you two were involved.”

jason tenses beside you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. ��yeah, well. guess you don’t know everything, old man.”

bruce sets his fork down with deliberate slowness. his gaze flicks between the two of you, assessing, “i never said i did.” his voice is even, unreadable. “but you don’t bring people around often. that’s worth noting.”

jason scoffs, like he couldn’t care less, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, unease, probably both.

jason’s hand finds yours under the table. it’s definitely not a calculated move, not a necessary nor obvious display for the act you’re putting on. it’s just—there. warm and solid, his fingers curling around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you don’t let go.

dinner progresses with a strange mix of tension and ease. You find yourself falling into natural conversation with dick about your work, while jason maintains a careful distance from bruce's attempts at engagement. still, his hand hasn't left yours, and you're starting to wonder if he's forgotten it's all for show.

"so—how did you two finally get together?" dick asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

you exchange a quick glance with jason, settling into the story you've rehearsed. "it wasn't really some big dramatic moment," you say, the lie feeling uncomfortably close to the truth. "we just...realized we work."

jason picks up the thread smoothly, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "she was patching me up after a rough night, mad at me for being so bruised," he says, and you can hear the genuine emotion in his voice. "and i just...i dont know—knew, i guess."

tim's watching you both with analytical eyes, and you wonder if he can see through the charade. "that tracks." he says finally. "you two have always been...close."

"speaking of close," dick interjects with a grin, "i think it's hilarious jason used to insist you were 'just roommates', and yet never went on any of the dates i set him up on. i should have known, really." there's a pout on his face, humourous.

you laugh, perhaps a bit too nervously, "well, we were. for a while." the irony of the statement isn't lost on you. you can see jason watching you from your peripheral, face stoic—but his eyes are soft. the way they watch over you, simply affectionate.

bruce, who's been quietly observing, finally speaks. "i'm glad jason has someone looking out for him," he says, and there's something in his tone that makes your heart ache. "he's always been...independent."

jason's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "yeah, well, some things change." he mutters, but there's less bite in his words than usual.

the conversation shifts to safer topics—work, current events, alfred's latest culinary experiments. you find yourself relaxing despite the pretense, falling into familiar patterns of banter with jason, finishing his sentences, and sharing knowing looks.

it's during dessert that damian, who's been suspiciously quiet, finally speaks up. "you're good for him," he declares with all the authority of a youngest sibling. "he's less annoying when you're around."

jason chokes on his tiramisu, and you pat his back automatically, the gesture so natural you don't even think about it. "thanks, damian!" you say, fighting back a smile. "i think."

as the evening winds down and dinner ends, you find yourself in the manor's vast library, having wandered away from the group for a moment of quiet. besides, you feel somewhat redundant against their coded phrases and stories. jason finds you, as he always does.

"hey." he speaks softly, coming to stand beside you. "you doing okay?"

you turn to face him, suddenly very aware of how close he is. "yeah, i'm good. your family's...intense, but nice. just like you said."

he laughs quietly, but there's something different in his eyes. "you're amazing, you know that? playing along with all this. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to." you admit, and it feels dangerous how true those words are. "besides, what are fake girlfriends for?"

jason's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. but then dick's voice calls from somewhere far off in the house and the moment gaps.

"we should head back." jason says, but he doesn't move. "before they send a search party."

you nod, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "yeah, we should."

but neither of you moves, caught in this strange liminal space where pretend and reality blur, and you're no longer sure which is which. even less sure if you hunger for dreams or waking existence—which is which? for a split second, you want to reach out. you desperately want to feel him—to possibly transfer the devotion you’re still too afraid to admit you harbor.

jason’s breath is staggered, coming out forced and shallow. his eyes, darker in the dim light, are flitting between you and the door—until he focuses in on you, fully. you’re too confused as to why he’s getting closer to you to react accordingly when his lips brush yours.

your first instinct is to furrow your brows, still confused. then, you kiss back. hungrily. confusion still fogs your mind, but nowhere near the way jason does. his lips are chapped, plump, and still tasting faintly of expensive dark liquor. his body cages you close him, hands respectfully at your shoulders. of course the only thing you can recognize is jason.

you err on the side respectfulness—opting to tug him closer by the tie. there’s a flash of the memory of him putting it on, and you can’t fight a small smirk from slipping onto your lips. jason must notice, because he finally breaks away to peer down at you.

“what?” he whispers, panting and staring down at your lips.

“what do you mean, what? we kissed.” you still feel giddy from his kiss, but reality begins to settle into you like a winter chill.

jason watches you closely, his expression a mix of smugness and unease, “hmmm—playing it dangerous.” he finally murmurs, shaking his head.

you arch a brow, feigning derision. “you say that to all the girls, todd?”

he exhales a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he huffs. “that grand number of...you.”

before you can say anything, footsteps echo just outside the library's door. jason instinctively steps back, widening the space between you just as dick pokes his head in. “there you two are! we were about to send out a search party.”

you smile, pushing down the lingering tension. “sorry. just taking a little tour.”

dick’s gaze flickers between you and jason, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “right. well, come on. we're playing charades—and bruce is actually smiling. you don’t want to miss that.”

jason groans, but he follows you and dick back back toward the others. his hand brushes against yours in the hallway, and for a second, you think he’s going to take it again. but he doesn’t.

charades is winding down by the time you return, alfred putting away various dry erase boards and markers with the kind of efficiency only a butler can possesses.

kori beams when she sees you, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “lovebrids! you have returned!" she gestures to herself and grayson, "thank you for coming—we would like to extend our support to your relationship.”

jason lets out a little breath, like he wasn’t expecting that—like he isn’t sure what to do with the sincerity. “thanks, kori.”

bruce, too, seems slightly less intimidating now. “thank you for coming—you’re welcome here anytime, both of you.” he tells you, and it sounds like a rare offering.

something about it all settles in your chest, warm and unexpected. you’ve spent so much time being jason’s person in private—patching him up, watching his back, making sure he gets home in one piece—that it’s almost startling to have it acknowledged in front of everyone else.

goodnights and goodbyes come soon after, and tim catches jason by the elbow before the pair of you can walk out the door, pulling him aside for a hushed conversation. you linger near the doorway, talking with kori and dick, but you can’t help the way your attention keeps flickering back to jason.

when he finally returns to your side, his expression is unreadable. “ready to go?”

you nod, murmuring your goodbyes as you both step back into the night air. jason doesn’t say anything as he leads you back to the car, but his hands flex at his sides.

the drive back is quieter than before, the easy banter from earlier replaced with something heavier, something neither of you seems willing to touch just yet. jason’s grip is tight on the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road.

it isn’t until you’re pulling into the familiar streets near your apartment that he finally speaks. “they bought it.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “yeah? i told you so.”

jason’s eyes flick to you for a fraction of a second before he exhales. “thank you, seriously. you were great.”

you glance at him, something warm curling in your chest. “we just make a good team.”

something glints in his expression, something hesitant, something aching. “yeah,” he agrees, voice quieter. “we do.”

the silence stretches between you as he parks the car. you unbuckle your seatbelt, but neither of you make a move to get out. stuck stagnant.

“so, this is was fake...” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

jason’s fingers drum against the steering wheel, knuckles red. “yeah.”

you should leave it at that. you should forget the kiss. you should revert back to just his roommate. you should laugh it off, make some joke about how convincing you both were—but you don't—instead you say, “does it still feel fake to you? us...tonight?”

jason’s breath catches. for a long moment, he doesn’t answer. you almost let doubt seep in.

then, he turns, his eyes dark and searching. “god, no.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and you swallow hard, pulse roaring in your ears. “good. me neither.”

for a second, he just looks at you, like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to laugh it off. but you don’t, you won't. and when he leans in—slow, hesitant, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away—you don’t.

you decide to meet him halfway, instead.

writer’s note .☘︎ ݁˖ all of my thanks to the helpful, @sunnie-angel for being my beta reader for this fic! thank you again for your services—and your sweet comments on this little story, very very happy to have a moot like you !!!

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works

#jason todd x reader #redhood x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x y/n #redhood x you #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd #the red hood #dc jason todd #dc red hood #dc x reader #jason todd thoughts #batfam #redhood #redhood jason todd

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nohoney · 11 months ago

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bakugou can’t stand your beat up sneakers. they’re kinda worn out but not quite falling apart. the laces are a far cry from the pristine white that they used to be, there’s scuff marks all around the shoes, and you complain sometimes that your heel gets a little bit blistered when you walk around in them too long. but still, you wear them because they’re easy to slip on in just three seconds and they are still pretty comfy.

and it’s not like your shoes are limited edition or whatever; it’s your basic design that everyone wears.

it’s why bakugou gets a little annoyed that you keep saying that you’ll eventually get a new pair but you don’t. he’s been with you the past few months and you‘ve yet to actually follow through on finally changing out your old sneakers to a new pair.

so he goes out of his way to just do it for you himself. he comes to your apartment with the shoe box and hands it over to you. “here, can you please stop wearing those beat up pairs now?”

you hold the left shoe up and awe over it, “oh wow, i almost can’t believe that this is what they look like brand new! has it really been that long for me?”

yes, fucking yes.

you try them on, stepping in place for a few seconds before looking down at the shoes with a small frown. “they feel funny.” you comment.

“what they feel is new.” bakugou shoots back.

you shrug a little but make a face that says you’re right.

“let’s go for a walk to break them in.”

it sounds like a good idea so you’re happy to walk out the door and get your feet used to them. however bakugou ends up having to carry you on his back because the new shoes started to hurt a little only fifteen minutes in.

but much like a new relationship, it takes a bit of time to break in and get used to them. slowly you wear the new sneakers for a bit longer, this time with better maintenance as bakugou insists that you wipe your shoes clean bi-weekly so that they maintain their appearance and washing them when needed. and then they become as comfortable as the old pair, slipping on easily as bakugou waits by the front door with keys in hand for the both of you to do errands together.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #recently replaced my adidas grand courts with a new pair and goddamn—the old pair was fucking BEAT

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burst-of-iridescent · 3 months ago

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kat.aang fails as a friends to lovers dynamic for multiple reasons, but one of the most egregious is that katara’s friendship alone is never once valued by either the narrative or aang.

a good friends to lovers romance bases the will-they-won’t-they on the potential consequences of rejection. what if confessing ruins your friendship? what if by trying to be something different you lose what you already have? not only is this a relatable and interesting conflict that maintains romantic tension without making it seem contrived, it also does something more important: it denotes the importance and meaning of the characters’ existing bond, thus making it a worthwhile, believable framework upon which to build a romance.

but this is never the case in kat.aang. not once does aang worry about what confessing his feelings might do to his friendship with katara, or even entertain the possibility that their relationship could be strained or ruined as a result. rather, the romantic tension in kat.aang is driven by the fear of rejection itself: the worst outcome of this situation is not the loss of aang’s supposedly close friendship with katara, but the dreaded confirmation that friendship is all that will ever exist between them.

katara and aang don’t work as a friends to lovers ship because their platonic/familial relationship is framed as an obstacle to their romance, not a stepping stone. this is made most evident in the ember island players, when actress katara’s re-affirmation of her sisterly feelings for aang (coupled with her interest in zuko) is the catalyst for aang’s confrontation and subsequent violation of katara. katara’s platonic love here is a source of frustration to aang, not comfort; a reminder of what he does not yet have instead of what he stands to lose.

aang wanting “more” than friendship is not inherently bad, and his desire for a romance with katara does not, on its own, invalidate their relationship. but you cannot predicate a romance on friendship all while disparaging the continuation of said friendship in its current state as the worst thing that could happen to the dynamic of these two characters! doing so not only cheapens kat.aang’s platonic bond, it also reinforces the idea that the only type of relationship worth having with women is a romantic one; that friendship is nothing more than a poor consolation prize for the romance women rightfully owe their male friends. it’s a leaf taken right out of the good old Nice Guy misogyny and amatonormativity playbook.

and if even the narrative can’t be bothered to respect or buy into kat.aang’s friendship as the foundation of their romance, why exactly should i or anyone else be expected to do so?

#anti kataang

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heyimkana · 3 months ago

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guildmaster!jinwoo and secretary!reader?????? omg kana you’re feeding us THANK YOUUUU😭😭😭🫶

being his secretary means coming along with him and the ahjin guild to the international guild conferences. imagine all the high ranking hunters around the world have their attention on him—his presence practically exudes power and immeasurable amounts of mana, it’s no surprise that he immediately draws all eyes in the room. but the hunters can’t help but notice “that pretty thing” walking alongside him, their eyes inevitably straying towards you for far longer than jinwoo would like. cue possessive!guildmaster!jinwoo 🫢

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD YES OKAY IMAGINE THIS

WC: 1,4K | Warnings: sex, swearing | Continuation from this

Let's say the international conference happened a week after they had sex for the first time.

So, they went to another country together, not getting the chance to talk much because people always surrounded him. That day when Jinwoo kissed and made love to you in his private office... As wonderful and passionate as it was, it only happened one time. He had been very busy with his schedules after that, so you had no chance to speak privately with him.

Through your eyes, with how he kept his demeanor nonchalant and reserved, you assumed he had no interest in taking the relationship to the next step. You had also been too afraid to ask him about your status since... Well, he was a national-level hunter, and you were nothing, not even a hunter. You were just a normal person—a nobody.

Surely, he wouldn't want to be in a relationship with someone like me.

You didn't know that the real reason why Jinwoo never asked you out was because he didn't wish to make you a target for having a special relationship with him. He couldn't risk it, not after what happened with Jinho. He decided it was better if your relationship with him stayed strictly business, no matter how much he wanted to hold you, take care of you, and love you the way a lover would.

You could still feel his eyes on you every now and then, and sometimes he smiled a little softer than usual when he thanked you for your assistance, as if seeing you stand so close to him but could never be entirely his melted and broke his heart at the same time. You didn't think too much of it, though. You told yourself not to.

After the conference ended, you returned to the hotel you had reserved for the night. You escorted him back to his room, helping him carry over the documents. Jinwoo had been quiet for a while, though you weren't sure why. You wondered if he was exhausted. After all, he was never fond of long meetings, and that conference took the entire day. You were worried about him, but... There was nothing you could do. You were just his secretary, never his lover.

"Take your rest, Mr. Sung," you said, maintaining your perfect formality even when it was only the two of you then. "I'm sure you're exhausted. I will be in my room next door should you need me. Good night."

You pivoted on your heels, making your way outside, but the second you stepped into the hallway, his fingers caught your wrist, yanking you back into the room. He slammed the door shut and pinned you against the door, his torso pressed flushed against your back, his fingers splayed at the front of your throat as his mouth latched hotly on your neck.

His heart was pounding, fueled by desire and frustration, while yours beat in the exhilaration of finally having his hands on you again. After enduring a day of watching other hunters leer and ogle at you, Jinwoo couldn't hold back any longer. He needed you, and he needed you then. His large hand seized your hip, pulling you even closer, his grip firm and possessive. His control slipped away, his desire for you taking over.

"M-Mr. Sung, what—"

"Don't call me that," he said, almost in a low growl. His lips found your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he spoke. "I want to hear my name on your lips. No 'Mr. Sung', no formalities."

You shivered, "J-Jinwoo..."

"Fuck." He angled your face to the side, kissing you so roughly, breathlessly, consuming enough to make your legs grow weak. He pressed you further against the wall, his bulge pressing hotly against your behind, his palm sliding underneath your blouse, tightly kneading your breast. "You don't know what you do to me, do you?"

"Jinwoo, what..." Your breathing started to tatter. "What are you doing?" You were confused. You thought he didn't want anything to do with you anymore.

His breath was hot against your ear, his voice gruff and filled with need. "What does it look like I'm doing, Sweetheart?" He placed a gentle yet passionate kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“You… I don’t know..." You chew on your lip to restrain your moans. "You seem... angry.”

"Damn right, I'm angry," he let out a low grumble, his grip on your hip tightening, nails digging into the skin. "Do you know how many men were staring at you during that conference? I could barely focus on the damn meeting."

He pushed up your skirt to your waist with one hand while the other applied pressure on the spot between your shoulder blades. You bent forward the way he commanded you to, clawing against the door as Jinwoo gripped your hip and guided your ass toward him, his zipper teasing your lingerie, his lip bitten at the sensation of his bulge grinding against your behind.

"Every time a man looked at you and smiled," he leaned forward, his teeth grazing your shoulder. "I wanted to wring his goddamn neck. You looked too fucking good, and they were all looking at you like you were some piece of meat. It took everything I had not to go over and punch someone in the face."

He meant his every word, and it sent quivers down your body. You'd never thought someone as composed as Sung Jinwoo could lose his composure like this—all because of you.

You needed him terribly, your body aching for him that you started pushing back, giving him the message for him to do as he pleased.

"Seeing them all looking at you... touching you..." He took off his belt with one hand, tossing it to the side. "God, I wanted to grab you and mark you as mine right then and there."

He pushed his pants low enough just for his hard, leaking cock to break free. "You're mine, aren't you, Angel?" He rubbed his tip against your entrance, his own breathing jagged. His hand slithered to your neck, framing your face as he took the shell of your ear between his teeth. "No one can have you but me, right?"

"Y-yes," you shut your eyes close, wanting him to be as close as possible, to be as deep as possible. "Jin, please—"

"Say that you're mine."

The dominance, the possessiveness in his tone nearly petrified you. "I'm yours—" You barely finished your line when he thrust inside, deep and hard, pushing all his length in one drive of his hips. It burned in all the right ways, your walls stretched and used, molded into his shape. You choked on your breath, your fingers clenching into fists as you tried to balance yourself.

"Again," he demanded, one hand pinning your wrist against the door while the other held you still by the hip. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you—ah—" One sudden thrust made you fall forward, your body pressed flat against the door with his cock sliding in and out. He was fucking his anger and frustration into you, every pound of his hips was a testament to the control he had over you. It felt so good, so raw, so feral, and you found yourself sobbing out his name in pleasure.

"I think I've changed my mind," Jinwoo said breathlessly, one hand hooked around your thigh, lifting your leg to give him more access, to bury himself deeper inside. "I'm going to let everyone know that you're mine. I'll take the risk. I'll keep you with me at all times. I'll protect you no matter what it takes, even if it means putting my life on the line. I'll show the whole fucking world that you belong to me."

The thrill of being owned by a man who could have anything—anyone—in the universe, sent you to the edge. "Jinwoo, I'm—I'm close—"

He held you tight against him, his hips rocking erratically against yours. "Come for me, Angel." And as you let yourself go, your body weak in his arms, your mind reeling in the afterglow, Jinwoo kissed your cheek, his touch soothing compared to how he used you just a second ago.

"I'll never let you go," he whispered, embracing you close. "You're mine to protect, mine to claim, mine to possess. Don't ever forget that."

His fingers tightened around your throat, far from hurting but enough to assert his power over you. And through gritted teeth, he said—

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lokisswiftie · 4 months ago

Text

Satisfied

2.5k Words

Summary: Spencer can’t take his eyes off of your mouth once he notices your fixation…

Warnings: Smut!!! So much smut!!! Reader has an Oral Fixation, post prison Spencer, Dom!Spencer but he’s pathetic guys, Slightly rough Spencer, Oral (m receiving), Reader wears lipgloss?

A/N: hey guys!!! I’m back with more Spencer and I can’t lie I absolutely loved writing this. I’m taking requests, read details on my pinned post! Enjoy, and tell me what you think ;)

———————————————————————

Spencer knows the exact moment that he became aware of your fixation. It happened at night, when he was among the only people still in the bullpen working away at his mountain of files. He figured that the endless piles of papers to complete are a good distraction from the thoughts that follow him home. So, there he was at his desk, dutifully filling in the paperwork with focused efficiency. That was until his eyes briefly glanced up from his work, with the sole intention of taking another sip of his coffee.

Instead, they landed on you. Spencer had grown close to you since his return from prison, and found himself opening up to you, the newest agent. You were sweet, and hard working and growing on him fast. So, he felt very ashamed for the way he was becoming hard at the sight of you.

Very clearly wrapped up in your own stack of files, your brow was furrowed as you read over the writing. Your hair looked especially gorgeous in the low lighting- but that wasn’t what had him slack jawed. It was that you didn’t even notice that you were chewing on the lid of your pen. Your lips are parted around the cap, your tongue flicking out against the lid. He realised with a shuddering halt that a number of things you had done around him were adding up.

While speaking to him once he can recall you frequently wetting your lips. Another time, he can remember you sucking on a sweet treat. Now, Spencer Reid realised very quickly that you definitely had an oral fixation. And he felt very guilty for how much he was turned on by that. He didn’t say anything, just returning to his files and fighting to ignore the tent in his trousers- but from then on he was always noticing you, even when he tried not to.

He tried over the next few weeks to stop his eyes from drifting sinfully to your lips, whenever you would mindlessly chew on your pen without even noticing. Or, the way you almost always had some sort of candy on your tongue, even in the field. It seemed to him that you couldn’t stop wanting something in your mouth, and it was growing frustrating to him that he was so fascinated by this. It was making his life much harder, when everytime he was around you he was only able to focus on your soft lips, that he keeps picturing wrapped around him.

It was wrong. He knew that, as your colleague and your superior he has a role of responsibility around you. But with your friendly nature it’s not like you ever give him time away from you- always at his side talking animatedly about cases with an enthusiasm he can’t match. He can’t, because he’s always focused on your goddamn mouth. His stomach twists in guilt every time he finds himself staring at you, and he forces himself to look away.

The obsession- he’s given in and started calling it that- has gotten to a point where he lays awake at night, unable to sleep for thoughts of your mouth. He always feels shameful when he wakes up the next morning, and the wet patch on his boxers is evidence that he once again fell asleep to thoughts of you. Thoughts of what he would do to keep your pretty mouth busy.

So far he’s convinced himself he’s doing well at maintaining a professional relationship with you. The problem is, you’ve noticed the difference in Spencer in the past few weeks. It’s becoming increasingly more obvious that he’s been avoiding you, and you’re growing tired of it. In all honesty, you miss the casual interactions before he started putting distance between you.

That’s why when you’re about to leave for the night and notice Spencer staying late like usual, you decided that the pile of paperwork on your desk would be a perfect excuse to spend more time around him.

Spencer Looks up briefly as you return to your desk, and grab a file from the stack. He quickly looks away but internally his heart is racing. A quick glance around the room tells him that everyone else has left- leaving him alone with you. Sure, this is fine. It’s fine. Only, when he cautiously glances at you again he’s pained at the sight of your lips wrapped around the lid of your pen while you’re deep in thought. His cock is already perking up in his trousers at the sight and it feels almost mocking how your lipgloss catches the light in that moment.

“Spencer, why are you staring at me?”

You sigh in frustration, and Spencer doesn’t feel the surprise at your words for a good few seconds, as he’s so busy watching the way your mouth forms them. He snaps his eyes to yours, mouth agape and floundering beneath your gaze.

“I- uh- sorry, I didn’t realise I was- sorry.”

He pathetically stumbled the response, his mouth going dry. God, he feels ridiculous. It’s like you’re doing this on purpose- looking so pretty every time he sees you. He’s recently noticed You applying that shiny lip gloss that feels like it was made specifically to torment him. He wets his lips and shifts behind his desk conspicuously.

You raise your eyebrows and stay silent, staring at him while you lift your pen to your mouth again. You stare at him, analysing his fidgety nature. As far as you know, you haven’t done anything to elicit this kind of reaction from him. He’s been acting off with you for weeks and you’re determined to know why.

“You’ve been being weird with me- what did I do, Spencer?”

You question him seriously, and when you’re done talking you put your pen back between your lips again. The funny thing is, you don’t even realise you’re doing it again. Your tongue flicks against the lid, and Spencer groans prompting you to raise your eyebrows again.

“Fuck- that.”

He gives in relatively easily to the question, and he could kick himself for it. But it’s not entirely his fault- you’ve worn down on his capacity to lie convincingly, with your mouth haunting his mind. You furrow your eyebrows at him, and squint at him with a puzzled expression.

“What?- Spencer, what are you talking about?”

You feel your cheeks get a little bit heated at the way Spencer’s eyes are so locked on you. You squirm a little under his gaze. Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore- not when your bottom lip brushes the cap of the pen again when you speak. He grits his teeth and gets up as your eyes follow him. Pacing over until he’s standing in front of you, Spencer places his hand on your jaw which goes slack in shock.

“That. The fucking pen- you keep biting it. You don’t even know you do it, do you?”

His voice has gotten lower- rightfully so, this conversation is not for work. You stumble for a response, and you find that your heart has started racing with his touch.

“I- I don’t-“

“-You bite your lips too. And you-“

Spencer interrupts your weak response with a low tone, and you don’t make an effort to interrupt his impromptu ramble. His palm remains seated on your cheek while you gape up at him, gripping the pen in your grasp. It’s true, now that he’s pointed it out you run your tongue over your bottom lip. He groans at that, and goes silent.

There’s a moment after that where he just looks down at you, gritting his teeth and his mind racing. His brow has a crease in it telling you he’s thinking intently. His trousers have a tent in them that tells you what those thoughts might be.

“You have an Oral fixation. You seek out stimulation through your mouth- by sucking on those candies or biting your pen.”

He finally says, and the words sit on your head and then fly away. You can’t much think past his crotch in your eye line. From above, Spencer exhales slowly and then his hand firmly directs your head to look up at him. When you do, you can’t breathe much for the fire in his eyes.

“But you’re never satisfied. You drive me insane with that mouth of yours.”

The words spilling from Spencer’s mouth have been restrained for weeks. Weeks since he first noticed your mouth in this lewd way, and he’s watching the way they affect you just as much. Slowly, he sinks his hand back to grip your hair firmly as he speaks with his voice barely above a whisper.

“Do you want me to help you fill it?”

You feel your heart stutter in your chest, and without really meaning to you tip your head back for him. When his words register in your brain you realise the throbbing between your legs. You’ve surely soaked through your panties by now. Your mouth goes dry and then when your eyes glance back down to his bulge, you find yourself almost salivating at the thought.

“Yes- please, Spencer.”

You nod eagerly and he groans, which turns into a dry chuckle. He feels like this might be another one of his dirty dreams about you- but at this point he can’t be bothered to care. Instead he gently brings your head closer to his aching crotch.

“Yeah, I thought you might… be good for me, undo my belt sweetheart.”

He exhales. Your hands jump into action and you can’t believe this is happening. You drop the pen and it skids away, while you fumble with his belt hurriedly. The thought of Spencer in your mouth is making you press your thighs together. You’ve always had a tiny crush on your fellow agent, ever since you joined the bau and were introduced to him. You always thought that he was impossible to have… but now as you tug down his slacks and come face to face with his tented boxers, you realise you’re not the only one who wanted this. You pause and look up at him, finding him panting and his pupils blown wide in those brown eyes.

“Fuck- c’mon sweetheart, use that pretty mouth for me.”

He says, his chest rising and falling fast. His hand tenses in your hair, eager to direct you to the source of his arousal. The sight of your face so close to his aching cock is making him impatient. Thankfully, you grin and oblige him, pulling down his boxers. He’s painfully hard, his cock hitting off his stomach and pulling a hiss from his lips. Meanwhile, you have to take a moment to stare at him.

Fuck he’s bigger than you expected. You wet your lips as you think about having to take all of him in your mouth, and you decide you want that challenge. Pearly beads of pre-cum form steadily at his tip, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around his base and directing his head to your mouth. You deliver kitten licks to him, and look up to find him a mess already.

“Oh fuck- god-“

His eyes closed for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as he gathered himself together. You swirling your tongue around his sensitive head is what snaps his eyes open with a broken moan. He draws in a breath before his hand tightens in your hair and lightly tugs you closer to him.

“Don’t fucking tease me- you know you want to take it all. So fucking take it.”

His voice is low and strained, and it’s making wetness pool between your thighs embarrassingly fast. You wet your lips at his words and you don't wait any longer to wrap your lips around him. The sound that spills from Spencer’s mouth when you start taking his cock into your mouth is borderline pornographic. You stop for a moment in surprise and look up, but when you lock eyes with him and see the desperation in his face you promptly take him all the way in your mouth.

“Oh my god!-“

Spencer’s head tips back, and his hand grips your hair tightly, keeping you like that for a moment while he gets his breathing in check. His eyes have drifted closed and he feels like he’s left the planet for a good few seconds.

“Feels so fucking good baby-“

His voice breaks into a moan when he looks down at you, and you fight the urge to smile around his cock. You slowly start to bob your head in a rhythm, the salty taste of his precum spurring you on. It gets to a point where he can’t take it anymore, and it pulls a choked moan from your throat when he grabs your hair more firmly and starts to direct your thrusts.

“Fuck- just like that baby- you love this don’t you?-“

You’re not surprised that he rambles even now, when your mouth is wrapped around his cock. You smile around your mouthful, and when he sees that he thrusts against your throat with a shuddering moan. The throbbing pulse of his vein on your tongue is addicting. What’s more addicting is that everytime you come up, You swirl your tongue around his head. That pulls the most pathetic of moans from his throat.

“Oh god- oh fuck baby- I’m close, I’m so close-“

Spencer starts to babble, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch you. When he fixes his eyes on you he sucks in a breath. Your eyes wet with tears from taking him so well, and drool pooling at the sides of your lips. Your lips- you pull back and then he’s hit with the sight of your lipgloss smeared around his cock. when he sees that, you feel him grip you and slam himself back into your mouth again.

“I’m coming- fuck- I’m gonna come-!”

His voice gets higher, whimpering as he proclaims to you in warning. As if you don’t already know what’s coming, with the way he throbs on your tongue. You lock eyes with him when it happens, and the sight is obscene.

Spencer’s dark eyes almost roll back entirely when he comes with a moan down your throat, his hand holding you firmly in place. You take it all, your hand coming to stroke his hip while you swallow everything he gives you. After the waves wash over him his hand grows slack on the back of your head, and you pull off with a pop.

“Spencer, are you with me?”

Your words come out sly, as you wipe the corners of your mouth from any residue. Spencer’s eyes flutter open, and the moment he looks down at you he’s a mess again. No dream could compare to the satisfied grin on your lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words spill from his bitten lips without any hesitation, and his hand slides to cup your cheek. For a moment the two of you look at eachother, a wrecked smile on his face and a satisfied one on yours. When he catches his breath he fixes himself up- though no matter what he does with his clothes, the fucked our expression on his face remains.

His hand strokes over your cheek and he almost falls down to his knees in his hurry to connect his lips with yours. You decide when your lips lock together that you’d happily let Spencer take care of your cravings like that again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #dom spencer reid #smut

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honeyslibrary · 1 month ago

Text

Native Tongue | Nico Hischier

Pairing; Nico Hischier x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Smut, cursing? (can’t remember lol), fluff, established relationship, edited once

Summary; Reader asks Nico to teach her some Swiss German

Word Count; 4.6k

Authors Note: This is so simple and the smut is more rushed than I’d like but I still love this so much. This was my first time writing for Nico and I’d say I did pretty okay? Translations are from Google so hopefully those aren’t too butchered 🙏🏽 Love you guys!! Accepting requests for Nico pls send if you have any 🩵🩵 -Honey

P.S: Scrolling Pinterest to find pics for the title/cover and oh my God is he beautiful. The brown eyes and dimples combo will do it every time I’m actually giggling at work I want him sooooo badly

The soft glow of a bedside lamp cast shadows across Nico's apartment, the warm light complementing the muted tones of his bedroom. Outside, Newark was alive with its usual evening bustle, but inside, time seemed to slow to a gentle rhythm. It was one of those rare off nights during the season. No game, no travel, just time to breathe.

You had been dating Nico Hischier for just over three weeks now. Everything still carried that new relationship electricity: the flutter in your stomach when he texted, the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you across a room, the way his Swiss accent thickened when he was tired or excited.

Tonight was simple. No fancy dinner reservations or planned activities, just you and him, lying on his bed, shoulders touching, talking about anything that crossed your minds. The conversation flowed easily between you, jumping from childhood memories to favorite movies to plans for the upcoming weekend.

His hand was resting in yours, and you traced the lines of his palm with your fingertips, feeling the calluses that told stories of countless hours gripping a hockey stick. These were the hands that had cradled pucks, won face-offs, and occasionally, thrown punches in defense of teammates. Now, they were relaxed in yours, trusting.

"Does this feel good?" you asked, pressing your thumb into the center of his palm in small, circular motions.

He hummed in contentment. "Very. Where did you learn to do this?"

"I had a friend who was a massage therapist. She taught me a few things." You continued working on his hand, moving to his fingers, gently pulling and stretching each one. "Hockey players need hand massages, right? All that stick handling."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "It's not something we talk about, but yes. Hands, wrists... they take a beating."

"Well, consider this a service to the Devils, then. I'm helping maintain their captain."

His smile was visible even in your peripheral vision. "Very thoughtful of you."

You both fell quiet for a moment, comfortable in the silence. The soft whirr of the heating system provided a gentle backdrop to your thoughts. Outside, a car horn honked, distant and unimportant.

"Can I ask you something?" you said finally, your voice soft in the dimly lit room.

"Anything."

"Would you teach me some Swiss German? Just a few phrases?"

Nico turned his head to look at you, his expression curious. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged, still focused on massaging his hand. "I don't know. It's part of who you are. I want to know all parts of you." You paused, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. "Plus, I think it sounds beautiful when you speak it."

He was quiet for a moment, and you worried you'd said something wrong. But when you finally looked at him, his eyes were soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name.

"That's... no one has ever asked me that before." He shifted to face you better. "What would you like to learn?"

You grinned, excited. "Start with the basics? Hello, goodbye, thank you?"

Nico nodded, looking thoughtful. "Alright. So, 'hello' is 'grüezi' in Swiss German."

"Grüezi," you repeated, the unfamiliar word clumsy on your tongue.

His smile widened. "Not bad for a first try. Try again, but it's more like... 'GRÜE-tzi' with emphasis on the first part."

"Grüezi," you attempted again, trying to mimic his pronunciation.

"Better! Now, 'goodbye' can be 'uf widerluege'."

You laughed. "That's a mouthful. Uf... wider..."

"Widerluege," he finished, his voice patient. "It literally means 'until we see each other again'."

"That's actually beautiful. Uf widerluege," you tried, the words feeling foreign but fascinating on your lips.

"And 'thank you' is 'merci vielmal'."

"That sounds part French!"

Nico nodded. "Swiss German borrows from many languages. We're surrounded by different cultures."

"Merci vielmal," you said, feeling proud when his eyes lit up at your decent pronunciation.

"Perfect! You're a natural."

The praise warmed you. "What else can you teach me?"

Nico thought for a moment. "How about... 'I like you'? That's 'Ich mag dich'."

"Ich mag dich," you repeated, looking directly into his eyes as you said it.

Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkening slightly. "Very good."

"And how would you say 'I really like you'?" you asked, your voice dropping to just above a whisper.

"Ich mag dich würklich sehr," he replied, his voice equally soft.

You repeated the phrase slowly, "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His eyes never left yours as you spoke, and you noticed the way his breathing seemed to have quickened slightly. Feeling emboldened, you placed his hand down and shifted to face him fully.

"What about..." you hesitated, "how would you say 'kiss me'?"

The atmosphere in the room changed, charged with unspoken tension. Nico's eyes dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again.

"Küss mich," he said, his accent thicker than before.

"Küss mich," you whispered.

He didn't move immediately, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as his lips met yours in a soft, questioning kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious, almost lustful. "Say something else," he requested, his voice rougher than before.

"What should I say?"

"Anything," he replied. "Just... in Swiss German."

You cast your mind back to the phrases he'd taught you, feeling a strange power in knowing how much it affected him to hear you speak his native language.

"Grüezi," you said softly, watching his reaction. "Ich mag dich würklich sehr."

His exhale was shaky. "Again," he whispered.

"Küss mich," you repeated, more confidently this time.

He closed the distance between you once more, this kiss deeper, more certain. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you responded eagerly, your own hand coming to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palm.

When you separated, both of you were breathing harder. The look in his eyes was intense, almost vulnerable in its honesty.

"You have no idea what it does to me," he admitted, his voice low, "hearing you speak my language."

"I think I'm getting an idea," you replied with a small smile. "How do you say 'I want you'?"

His eyes darkened further. "Ich will dich."

"Ich will dich," you repeated, maintaining eye contact.

A soft groan escaped him. "Your pronunciation is terrible," he said, but his tone was affectionate, teasing.

"Then teach me," you challenged, shifting closer to him.

"Say it again," he instructed, his hand now resting on your waist.

"Ich will dich."

"The 'ch' is deeper, from the back of your throat," he explained, his fingers drawing small circles on your hip.

You tried again, inadvertently making the same mistake.

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips despite the intensity in his eyes. "No, listen to me. Ich."

"Ich," you repeated, still not quite getting it right.

"Here," he said, bringing his hand up to touch your throat gently. "You feel it here when you say it correctly."

You tried again, focusing on the sensation under his fingertips.

"Better," he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now the whole phrase."

"Ich will dich."

"Perfect," he whispered, and then his lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, his hand sliding from your throat to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he pulled you closer.

You responded in kind, your hand moving up his chest to his shoulder, then to the back of his neck, feeling the short hairs there. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you granted readily, a small sound of pleasure escaping you.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath. "How do you say 'beautiful'?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Schön," he replied, equally quiet.

"Du bist schön," you attempted, guessing at the structure.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before crinkling at the corners with his smile. "That's right. You're learning quickly."

"I have a good teacher," you replied, running your fingers lightly through his hair.

He closed his eyes briefly at your touch, then opened them again, his gaze intense. "It's strange," he said softly.

"What is?" you asked, still running your fingers through his hair.

"Hearing someone speak my language... it's like hearing a piece of home." He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. "Especially someone I care about."

The tenderness in his gesture made your heart flutter. "Even if my pronunciation is terrible?"

"Especially then," he laughed softly. "It's... I don't know how to explain it. When you speak English, you're just you. But when you try to speak Swiss German..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "It's like you're reaching for a part of me that not many people here get to see."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "I want to see all parts of you, Nico."

His eyes darkened at that, and he shifted slightly, bringing himself closer to you. "Say it again," he murmured.

"What?"

"Ich will dich," he prompted.

You repeated the phrase, trying your best to match his pronunciation, "Ich will dich."

A small groan escaped him, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent than before. His hand moved to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his tongue sought entrance, which you granted eagerly.

When you broke apart, both breathing heavily, there was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. "I don't know why it affects me so much," he admitted. "Hearing you speak Swiss German. It just... does something to me."

You smiled, feeling a surge of power at the knowledge. "Then I should probably keep practicing," you said, your tone deliberately innocent even as you shifted closer, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his hand moving to your waist, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. "It's important to practice."

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

He didn't need to be told twice, his lips finding yours again as his hand splayed across your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the solid strength of him as he held you.

"One more phrase," you breathed when you separated for air. "How do you say 'I want you to touch me'?"

His eyes, already dark with desire, seemed to grow even more intense. "Ich will, dass du mich berührst," he replied, his accent thicker than usual.

You tried to repeat it, stumbling over the unfamiliar sounds, and he smiled, the expression somehow both tender and predatory.

"Close enough," he murmured, and then his hand was moving, tracing a path up your side with deliberate slowness.

"And how do you say 'don't stop'?" you asked, your voice catching as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"Hör nicht auf," he told you, watching your face intently.

"Hör nicht auf," you repeated, the words turning into a soft gasp as his touch became more purposeful.

His hand slid higher beneath your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your ribs tantalizingly slow. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent shivers down your spine, each touch igniting something deep within you. His eyes remained fixed on yours, gauging your reactions, seeming to find satisfaction in every small catch of your breath.

"Another phrase?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that you could feel through his chest where it pressed against yours.

You nodded, not trusting your voice as his thumb traced lazy circles just below the underwire of your bra.

"How about 'please'?" you managed, your voice slightly unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small smile. "Bitte."

"Bitte," you echoed, the word barely audible.

Something flashed in his eyes. Hunger, affection, and something deeper that made your heart race. "Say it again," he instructed, his hand stilling its movement.

You understood his game immediately. "Bitte," you repeated, more urgently this time.

His smile widened slightly, satisfaction evident in his expression as his hand resumed its exploration, this time venturing higher. His touch was confident but gentle, asking permission without words.

"Yes," you breathed, answering his unspoken question.

And then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hand finally moved to cup your breast over your bra. You arched into his touch, a small moan escaping into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, his kiss deepening as his thumb brushed over the fabric covering your nipple.

Your own hands weren't idle, moving to explore the firm planes of his chest through his t-shirt. You could feel the defined muscles beneath the soft cotton, the result of years of athletic training. Feeling emboldened, you tugged at the hem, silently asking for permission to remove it.

Nico broke the kiss long enough to help you, sitting up slightly and pulling the shirt over his head in one fluid motion before tossing it aside. You took a moment to admire him: the broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered freckles across his skin that you'd never noticed before.

"Schön," you said softly, using one of the few words he'd called you that seemed appropriate.

His expression softened at your use of his language. "That's my line," he replied, reaching to touch your face with gentle fingers. "Du bist wunderschön."

"What does that mean?" you asked, leaning into his touch.

"You are beautiful," he translated, his eyes never leaving yours.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned forward to press your lips to his collarbone, then moved higher to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear that you'd discovered during your earlier make-out sessions. He inhaled sharply, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair.

"Your turn," he murmured, tugging lightly at the bottom of your shirt.

You nodded, allowing him to help you remove it. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, but they were quickly replaced by warmth as Nico's hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer again.

His kisses became more insistent, trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure as he found a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

"How do you say 'more'?" you asked breathlessly.

"Meh," he replied against your skin, the word followed by a gentle nip that made you gasp.

"Meh," you repeated, and felt him smile against your neck before he continued his exploration, his mouth moving lower to the swell of your breasts above your bra.

His hands found the clasp of your bra, but he paused, looking up to meet your eyes. "Is this okay?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You appreciated his care, his constant checking in. It was one of the things that had drawn you to him, his consideration, his respect, his unwillingness to assume.

"Yes," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Ja."

He unhooked your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your arms and setting it aside. There was reverence in his gaze as he looked at you, his hands coming up to cup your breasts with gentle pressure.

"Beautiful," he whispered, this time in English.

You felt a flush spread across your chest and up to your cheeks, but there was no embarrassment in it, only warmth at the naked admiration in his eyes. He lowered his head, replacing one of his hands with his mouth, and you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

His tongue circled your nipple before taking it between his lips, the gentle suction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, encouraging him.

"Nico," you breathed, his name a prayer on your lips.

He hummed in response, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation. His free hand wasn't idle, moving to give your other breast equal attention, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in rhythm with his mouth.

The dual stimulation was intoxicating, but you wanted more. Your hands moved down his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath warm skin as he moved. You traced the ridge of his spine, then moved lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

He lifted his head from your breast, eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough.

You considered using one of the Swiss German phrases he'd taught you, but in this moment, you wanted complete clarity. "I want to feel you," you said simply. "All of you."

His expression grew serious, though the hunger in his eyes didn't diminish. "Are you sure? We don't have to rush anything."

The care in his question made your heart swell. Three weeks wasn't a very long time, but in those weeks, you'd spent nearly every free moment that he had together. You'd talked for hours, shared meals, watched games, exchanged stories about your lives. There had been countless kisses, increasingly heated make-out sessions, but you'd both been content to take things slowly. Until now.

"I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "I want this. I want you."

He turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, the gesture unexpectedly tender amidst the heat of the moment. "I want you too," he replied, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "But we go at your pace, okay? You tell me if you want to stop, anytime."

"I will," you promised.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then leaned down to capture your lips again. This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. His hands moved to your waist, then lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He looked at you again, a silent question, and you nodded.

With careful movements, he unbuttoned your jeans and helped you shimmy out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes traveled over your body with appreciation, but there was also something protective in his gaze.

"Your turn," you said, reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants.

He helped you, pushing them down and kicking them off. Now both of you were down to your underwear, the thin fabrics the only barrier between you. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that you affected him so strongly was intoxicating.

His hand moved to your hip, fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. "May I?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Please," you nodded, adding with a small smile, "Bitte."

The corner of his mouth quirked up at your use of Swiss German. Slowly, maintaining eye contact, he slid your underwear down your legs, his touch leaving trails of fire on your skin. Once they were removed, he took a moment just to look at you, his expression a mix of desire and something that looked remarkably like awe.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief. "I don't know what I did to deserve this."

"You're just you," you replied simply, reaching for him. "That's more than enough."

He came willingly into your arms, his body covering yours, the weight of him a delicious pressure. You could feel every inch where your skin touched his, chest to chest, hip to hip, legs tangled together. His hand moved between your bodies, fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, then lower, seeking permission in your eyes before venturing further.

You nodded, your breath catching as his fingers found your core, exploring with gentle curiosity. He watched your face intently, learning what made your breath hitch, what made your back arch, what drew sounds of pleasure from your throat.

"Küss mich," you whispered, remembering the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

His eyes darkened at your use of his language, and he leaned down to comply, his kiss hungry and deep as his fingers continued their skilled movements. You were lost in sensation, the world narrowing to just this, his touch, his taste, the weight of him above you.

When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes were serious. "Do you want to continue?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

"Yes," you nodded without hesitation. "Do you have...?"

"Protection? Yes," he confirmed, reaching toward the nightstand drawer.

You took the opportunity to help him remove his boxers, your eyes widening slightly at the sight of him fully naked. He was beautiful. All lean muscle and smooth skin, his body a testament to years of athletic discipline.

He retrieved a condom from the drawer, and you watched as he rolled it on with practiced movements. Then he was hovering over you again, his weight supported on his forearms on either side of your head, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked one more time, his voice gentle.

The care in his question made your heart swell. "I'm sure," you nodded, reaching up to touch his face. "Ich will dich," you added, using the phrase he'd taught you earlier.

A groan escaped him at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he positioned himself. "Tell me if you need me to stop," he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he began to push forward, entering you with carefully slow. The sensation was intense, and you focused on your breathing, on relaxing, on the feeling of him gradually filling you.

When he was fully seated, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breathing as uneven as your own. "Okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice despite the strain of holding still.

"More than okay," you assured him, shifting your hips slightly to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "You can move."

He started slowly, with gentle, measured thrusts that allowed both of you to adjust to the sensation. His eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of discomfort, but all he would find was pleasure building with each movement.

Gradually, as your body relaxed and welcomed him, his pace increased. Your hands moved to his back, feeling the play of muscles as he moved above you, within you. The room filled with the sounds of your combined breathing, occasional moans, and the rustle of sheets.

"Okay?" he asked again, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.

"Yes," you gasped, arching to meet his thrusts. "Don't stop—Hör nicht auf."

His rhythm faltered momentarily at your use of Swiss German, a groan escaping him. "You're killing me," he muttered, but there was affection in his tone beneath the desire.

He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars exploded behind your eyelids as he hit a spot deep within you that sent pleasure coursing through your veins. "There," you breathed, "right there."

Understanding immediately, he maintained the angle, his thrusts becoming more purposeful. One of his hands moved between your bodies, finding the bundle of nerves at your center, circling with just the right pressure.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pleasure building rapidly within you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation.

"Nico," you gasped, feeling the tension coiling tighter.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice strained but reassuring. "Let go. I want to see you."

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and fingers, pushed you over the edge. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body arching against his as you cried out his name. He worked you through it, his movements slowing but not stopping, prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

As you came down from your high, you became aware of his still-rigid length inside you, of the tension in his muscles as he held himself in check. You reached up to touch his face, bringing his eyes to meet yours.

"Your turn," you said softly, clenching around him.

A groan tore from his throat, his control visibly slipping. "Are you sure? I can—"

"I want to feel you," you cut him off, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Let go."

Something in your eyes must have convinced him, because with a shuddering breath, he began to move again, his rhythm more urgent now. You watched his face, fascinated by the play of emotions: pleasure, concentration, and something deeper that made your heart race.

His movements became more erratic, his breathing harsh, and you knew he was close. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down so that your bodies were pressed together, chest to chest.

"Ich will dich," you whispered in his ear, remembering how strongly he'd reacted to you speaking his language earlier.

The effect was immediate. He groaned, deep and guttural, his hips jerking against yours as he found his release. You held him through it, hands stroking his back, murmuring encouragement as he shuddered above you.

For a long moment afterward, neither of you moved, content to stay connected, his weight a pleasant pressure, his breath warm against your neck. Finally, he shifted, carefully separating from you and moving to dispose of the condom in the bathroom.

When he returned, he immediately gathered you back into his arms, pulling the rumpled sheets over both of your cooling bodies. You settled against his chest, listening to the gradually slowing beat of his heart, feeling utterly content.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft in the dim room.

You nodded against his chest. "More than okay."

His hand moved to stroke your hair, gentle and soothing. "That was..." he seemed to search for the right word.

"Amazing?" you supplied, tilting your head to look at him.

He smiled, the expression soft and genuine. "Amazing," he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "But I meant what happened between us. It's not just physical for me."

The vulnerability in his admission made your heart swell. "It's not just physical for me either," you assured him, reaching up to touch his face. "I really care about you, Nico."

His eyes softened at your words. "I care about you too," he replied, his accent thicker with emotion. "Very much."

You settled back against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. Outside, Newark continued its evening bustle, car horns honking and sirens wailing in the distance. But in here, in the soft glow of Edison bulbs, there was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and newfound intimacy.

"Teach me one more phrase," you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"What would you like to know?" he asked, his voice rumbling beneath your ear.

You thought for a moment. "How do you say 'stay with me'?"

He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "Blieb bi mir."

You repeated it, looking up to meet his eyes as you did. "Blieb bi mir."

His expression was tender as he looked down at you. "As long as you'll have me," he promised, pulling you closer.

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bernardsbendystraws · 4 months ago

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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt finds out about your self harm.

Warnings: Self harm, mentions of not eating, angst, overall dark themes. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: Please reach out to hotlines if you are struggling, you are not alone <333

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00: Not-so-sweet escape

Everyone needs an escape. Reality is harsh, too painful to bathe in every second of the day. All you wanted was something you could cope with, something that would make the ache of breathing sting a little less.

It started small—very small. Sometimes you’d purposefully just not eat, purposefully make your body feel weak. But it escalated. Like everything else, the addiction became lethal.

01: Fake it

You’re exhausted. Every bone feels like it’s withering away beneath your itchy skin. It’s like your body is reacting to your mind, mimicking how dead you feel.

The bathroom is dark. You’ve been sitting on the cold tile for ages, wishing that the dark would somehow consume you. But it doesn’t. All it does is mock you in silence, the quiet peace haunting your running thoughts, jealousy burning through your face as you feel tears swell in your eyes.

“Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?”

Matt. He knocks softly, his brows furrowed as he sees the lack of light illuminating from the door gap from the floor. He’s worried. He doesn’t wanna say anything, he barely has a reason to be concerned other than the fact that he can just feel it—feel something awful as if it’s contagious.

The lump in your throat is thick. You bite down hard on your inner cheek, letting the back of your head fall against the wall. “Yeah, that… that sounds like fun.”

You don’t have it in yourself to do anything but pretend.

02: Pretty Weak

It’s running smoothly until it doesn’t. The way you fake it is sometimes too convincing. You find yourself truly believing in hope until you’re alone again, feening for some sort of relief that you don’t think will ever come.

The sun is rising, your mind is barely awake. Matt has your face nuzzled in his chest, his hand wrapped around the bottom of your thigh as he pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

“You look so pretty,” he compliments.

And then it stops. Those words trigger your body to stiffen just the slightest before falling lifelessly. You don’t feel pretty. And it wasn’t necessarily about your body either, it was your eyes. They looked so… dull—like something inside your body had failed, leaving you as some sort of corpse left to rot in reality.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? You stay here, I wanna eat in bed with you.”

His words are sweet, truly. But they make you feel guilty. He’s so full of love, everything good. And you’re full of… well, you’re full of nothing. Your blood feels like dust, your tears caressing your cheeks like dry clouds.

It’s just so empty, so useless.

As Matt leaves the room, you can’t help but stare towards the bathroom. You want it. You want it so bad. The relief is all that seems to linger when you recall memories of such a brutal coping mechanism. You can’t find it in yourself to search for the reasons why you stopped in the first place.

But you don’t. You can’t.

He’ll see it.

Anywhere you put a single mark, Matt would always see it. You live together, he constantly helps get you dressed, sometimes you even shower together. But right now? Right now you just don’t care—not when you feel this unbearable urge, an unbearable itch. You need it.

And the worst part? The worst part is that you feel so weak. Nothing bad has even happened. Your boyfriend’s making you breakfast after calling you pretty and somehow that isn’t enough to make you happy.

03: Cope

Relationships are supposed to be built and maintained on bricks of trust. And that’s what you have with Matt. Well, used to. You’ve been lying to him constantly, giving excuses, avoiding him like the plague—even though you feel like you’re the disease.

But it’s just too much. You can’t put this on him, you won’t. Not when this isn’t his battle to fight, not when you gave into the past addiction so easily.

“Sweetheart, do you wanna take a bath together? I got all the fun stuff,” he says excitedly, lifting items out of a plastic grocery bag, showing you all the best things—bubbles, candles, scrubs… everything.

He didn’t do it for any other reason other than wanting to spend more intimate time with you. Physical touch is important to him. It doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but he craves your skin on his, he needs the rawness of being close to you.

You feel bad rejecting the offer. In all honesty, it sounds so nice. But you can’t. Not when you know he’ll see it. Then he’ll worry. And he doesn’t need to worry. This helps you, he wouldn’t understand that.

Matt’s shoulders slump as he tries to spare a small smile, not wanting to seem too disappointed. The awful guilt crawls up your chest, creating a lump in your throat.

And there’s only one way to cope.

04: He Knows

His heart feels like it’s ripping out of his chest. The more hints he slowly picks up on, the more he realizes what’s really going on. He doesn’t want to believe it. Denial is logical to him. Afterall, you’d tell him, right?

The trust he has for you is unfathomable, immeasurable. He’s certain you’d tell him. He’s certain he’d know immediately if things were that bad.

And then he stops feeling the ripping of his heart in his chest. Instead, he hears it—a loud cry leaving his lips.

Matt was never one to snoop. He respects your privacy more than anything. But he saw pink water resting above the shower drain after you had exited fully clothed. You’re not on your period, he knows that for a fact. And—you didn’t really shave in that quick of a shower.

He knows.

05: Lose

They’ve gone missing. Every tool you’ve ever used and hidden in your bathroom drawer—they’re just… gone.

Your stomach drops, your fingers aching as you furiously shuffle through the miscellaneous products in your drawer, trying to find anything. But it’s not there.

Matt couldn’t bring himself to fully confront you without knowing more. The pink water haunted him as he flipped through the pages of your journal, his stomach twisting in knots when he saw the dates trace back further and further.

How did he not know sooner?

What if he had never known until it was too late?

Even the thought makes him sick. He can’t fathom the thought of you completely out of his everyday life. He needs you.

Matt hears you rummaging through the drawers, his chest shaking as he tries to take a deep breath.

He’s just not ready to lose you.

06: Lost

Horrified fear. The look on your face is viciously distraught, your hands twisting into fists as you sit on the edge of the bed, Matt’s voice ringing through the air. He explains the pink water, how he didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, he was only concerned.

Part of you is angry. You want to snap at him for going through your stuff. But he had a valid reason—he wasn’t wrong.

“-and I’ll help. We can look into therapists, I’m here every step of the way–”

“You don’t understand, Matt.”

Your words are bitter. Matt’s face scrunches, almost as if he’s in pain. It hurts to look at someone you love suffering—especially when they’re looking at you with pure hatred. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Although, you don’t hate him, you hate how he makes you see yourself. You’re weak. You couldn’t even reach out for help to your boyfriend who has never failed you.

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve lost you. But as you walk out the door, it kinda feels like he has.

07: Escape

Oh god it hurt his heart. The pain in his chest is the most brutal violence of emotions he has ever felt in his life. And he just wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Not when he’s holding you, consoling you as you scream at him.

“I know it’s bad! I’m not fucking stupid, I just-”

Your words fall weaker, your fists hammering against his chest starting to unclench as you let out a sad cry.

“I just needed an escape.”

08: Revolving Door

Your cheek is raw from how often your teeth seemed to knaw into the muscle. Matt’s sitting on the desk chair, trying to not stare at you as you write down in a journal.

You refused to go to therapy. The thought of saying everything out loud made you sick. So, this is the best he could come up with—put it on a page so it doesn’t have to rest in your mind. And honestly, it helped. It helped more long term than anything else.

But you just missed it—the immediate relief.

Matt assures you that you’re not weak when you explain this to him. He’s there to let you cry and sit numbly, as long as he’s there to make sure you’re safe—not walking into the revolving door until you’re so scattered that you don’t even know how to get back out.

He loves you—even if it’s not as a lover and just as a soul. He’ll hold open any door, take you places that make it easier to breathe. He makes you feel strong—strong enough to not turn back to that revolving door.

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unholybacon355 · 6 months ago

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What's under my christmas tree?

Shin Ryujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 6 K

TW: Incest.

Part 2

A/N:

I have to say some important things.

First, they are deeply wrong and damaged. Please notice that.

Second. I was supposed to release this on christmas eve but things happened so I'm posting it now.

And third, this is the continuation of Day 1 of my Kinktober stories. You don't need to read that after this, since is a short story gives zero context to this one. But if you want to read it you can find it on my profile.

And last one. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I thing would be better if I split it in two. So second chapter is coming soon.

CHAPTER ONE

Another family dinner, as the thousand you have had since you’re alive, nothing special about this one that makes it memorable. Just a complete normal family dinner with your dad, your mom, and your older sister. Everything normal, nothing to care about, not at all. Just the usual things like Ryujin making fun of you for being a loser and not getting bitches. She is loving messing with you while she’s rubbing her foot against your crotch under the table. Just a totally normal Christmas dinner with your family.

You’re hard and nervous at the same time. You want to take off your pants and let your sister perform a proper footjob, but for obvious reasons you can’t do that in the middle of the family dinner. She knows that and you can see in her deep brown eyes that that is exactly the reason why she’s messing with you right now.

You can remember exactly how this insane side of your relationship started. Was years ago during one of your vacation that she found you smelling an used pair of panties. You thought it was from one of her friends, Chaeryeong, who was with your family on that vacation. But ended up being one of Ryujin’s used panties instead. That crazy night she maybe had drank more than she should have and one thing led to another so you ended up putting a show from your sister and masturbating in front of her, smelling her pussy aroma from her dirty underwear while she was making fun and encouraging you at the same time. From there things were periodically escalating within days, and by the end of the vacations you two eventually ended fucking.

You seriously think that you should feel bad about the fact that at least once per month you cum inside your sister’s pussy, but seriously she’s so annoying on a daily basis that you believe that is a great compensation.

You aren't getting bitches, as Ryujin always says, and she takes advantage of that by always messing with you. Always rubbing her body against you in the most subtle ways, like for example how she did during the family photo this same evening.

You were sitting on the couch accommodating for the said photo and Ryujin just sat on your lap. The problem was that she was rubbing her ass on your crotch, causing you a massive erection. The almost imperceptibly slow and circular movement of her ass made your shaft stab her, and she was smiling all the time. No one could notice it on the photo but you were holding it to not bend her over the carpet and fuck your sister in front of the christmas tree.

And now you have her foot rubbing your erection while she's making jokes and asking you mom to pass her the salad. Your sister is a truly evil being, but you have to give credit to her for maintaining this charade. She should venture into acting since is too good at putting on that poker face while doing nasty things.

You know how fast her expressions can change since one of her favorite activities is ruining your orgasm by looking right into your eyes with her most dirty and slutty face, and in the right moment changing to a disgusting or angry face. Your sister could easily be an actress and win an Oscar.

Is incredible how Ryuijin can manage to look like a good daughter while bringing you to the very verge of an orgasm. Her foot works on your crotch pressing and rubbing your erection with expert and precise movements, as if she had done this countless times. And maybe she did it, since even you know the rumors about her that people tell in her campus. And it is her expert foot that finally makes you cum, but is a disappointing orgasm. Totally ruined by the fact that you can make any noise and have to maintain your composure since you're in front of your parents, still at the family dinner. Ryujin's foot immediately leaves your erection in peace when she notices that you have already cummed.

Somehow you managed to maintain composure and not moan right there. Only your mom noticed something was wrong and asked you if everything was ok. You were quick to tell her that you have eaten so much because everything was delicious, and that's all. That was just you having a full stomach and nothing more. Deflecting all doubts into a burst of giggles from your sister. At least she helps you with this one.

After dinner came the exchange of gifts, which you had to go through with your boxer soaked in your cum. It feels dirty and makes you worry that your parents might smell it, or your pants get stained and they could notice it. Luckily for you nothing happens and everything goes right, you even get a pretty gift from Ryujin. Which considering what she just did to you at the dinner was giving you mixed feelings.

After all, family night ended up being beautiful, as a christmas night should be for everyone. All the fun and family games ended sooner than you wish because your parents had to leave to attend a friend’s party and obviously you weren't going to be hanging out with your sister in the living room. So one second after your mom let you know that they aren’t coming back till tomorrow lunch and leave the house, you're running to your room without giving any chance to Ryujin to mess with you again.

Hours have passed but you are still awake, being occasionally distracted from your studies by the snow falling at the other side of the window, and for your sister’s steps coming down and up on the stairs. What she’s doing is a mystery for you and honestly you don’t wanna know, maybe she’s sneaking one of her friends in the house to get her guts rearranged. In which case you don’t wanna know, or maybe you want and you will use the sounds of Ryujin getting railed to jack off properly. Since she ruined your orgasm at dinner, that sounds fair. You’re now curious but to your surprise her steps stop in front of your door.

“Are you still up, loser?” Ryujin asks after carefully opening your door and sticking just her head in the room. For some reason she’s wearing makeup and a christmas hat.

“Get out, I'm studying. I have an exam next week.” You make her a gesture with your hand to leave the room but instead she blatantly steps inside. Know you really don't know what is happening because Ryujin is dressed like some kind of Santa Claus. The all red costume could be considered sexy in some way because she’s wearing a miniskirt that barely covers more than her ass, thigh highs and a crop top jacket leaving her stomach exposed. All of that topped by a cape, that is actually what is preventing her ass to be seen, and said hat. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh come on! Stop being a loser. Is christmas.” She’s putting on a show here because is pouting and stepping on the floor as if she were some kind of spoiled child. Which in part she is. “Don’t you wanna watch a movie with your sister and have a nice night? I already settled everything on the first floor.”

“Why are you suddenly being so nice?” You have the right to be suspicious since clearly your sister is plotting something here.

“Come on Loser, is christmas. I don’t wanna waste my night sleeping, not tonight. Besides you study a lot, you're practically the first in your class. You deserve a rest too.” Well, at least she was right on that. “I already prepared hot chocolate and cookies. But if you don’t want it, all it's gonna be for me.” And recovering her bratty attitude, more or less her true nature, Ryujin sticks out her tongue and leaves your room. Obviously she didn’t close the door.

When you were about to close the door something made you change your mind and instead you shouted to the first floor. “Wait for me, I’m coming down in a minute.” Maybe she’s right and you deserved a rest after hardly studying the entire year.

Minutes later you're amazed by what Ryujin prepared for your little movie night. She has moved things in the living room, making a big space in the middle. There on the floor she placed blankets and some pillows piled against the big couch, making a bed for you two. There is also a center tabled with what seems to be a thermos with hot chocolate and some christmas cookies, two mugs of that hot chocolate have been already served and are steaming there. All of this is being illuminated by the light of the christmas tree and the big freaking 85 inches tv your dad insisted your family needed. This scene could be romantic if not were because you two are siblings.

"Why are you suddenly doing this?" This seems like too much coming from your sister. “What are you plotting?”

“Can you not be a prick for a moment?” Ryujin seems to be a little offended by your doubts, or maybe she’s acting up again. With her you never know. “Already said it. Just wanna have a nice christmas.”

“Ok, ok. Maybe the Christmas spirit possessed you or something. Can I pick the movie or have you already prepared that too?” You ask sitting in the blankets.

“No, you can’t.” Ryujin sits beside you and covers you two with one blanket. She puts a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and press play. Your sister had selected a romantic comedy. One of those movies that always happens in New York where a young couple inevitably falls in love, but at least it was a Christmas movie so that’s something.

The night was so relaxing and for the first time in months you were just there having a good time. The movie ended up being quite good and you were able to enjoy it, you two were having fun after all. You didn’t even notice how or when Ryujin hugged you, this time without trying to inappropriately touch you, or how she was feeding you with pieces of cookies by putting them directly in your mouth. So for almost two hours you and your sister were laying there enjoying the movie and having a lovely night. The fact that at times this seemed more like a date than two siblings watching a movie together flew over your head, you were completely blinded by enjoying the warmth of your sister hugging you instead of fighting with her.

By the time the movie credits appear on screen Ryujin had her head resting on your shoulder and you were petting her. This was maybe the first time you were like this in years; with no fights, no jokes, no sex, just both of you enjoying a lovely moment. But the spell broke once the movie came to at it inevitable end. That trance that blinded your eyes during the movie wasn’t present now and for the first time you were aware of Ryujin’s body pressing against yours in a tight hug.

“Was a good movie after all, but it is late now.” You broke the reigning silence in the room, and despiste your word you weren't sure if you wanna stop hugging your sister.

“Did you like it?” She asks with her head still on your shoulder. “Never thought my little loser was into that kind of movie.”

“I’m not into it, but this movie was good. And…” Suddenly the realization that she called you “My” hit you. “Why did you call me like that? I’m not yours. Why do you always call me loser?” Your arms are no longer surrounding her body.

“You have to ruin everything, right?” Ryujin pushed you and stood up. The blanket that was covering you fell to a side, the cold hit your bodies now since each other warm was missing. “You’re my brother and I’m the only one that calls you Loser. Can’t I show some love for you now?” This sudden change in her mood surprised you.

“Ok, just calm down.” You're standing too now. “Maybe I’m suspicious since you decided to give me a footjob in the dinner. Did you forget that?”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t enjoyed it.” Well she was right, once again. “You're always so happy to cum on me and then act like if I were using you or something.” To your surprise she pushed you. That caught you off guard causing you to fall into the couch.

“What’s wrong with you?” You quickly stand again and grab her hands when Ryujin tries to push you again. Despite being younger you were visibly taller and heavier than your sister so it wasn't too much difficult for you. “Seriously, what is happening with you?” Ryujin tried to escape from your grasp but you didn’t let her go anywhere. “The footjob, the present, the movie, and now this. Are you crazy or something?”

“Let me…” She finally can free herself, or maybe you let her go because you just noticed how tears were forming in her eyes. “ I’m just tired and really wanted to have a nice moment with someone that at least loved me in the past.” She was holding tears.

“Ryu…” You can control yourself and you surround her with your arms in a tight hug. “I still love you. You’re my sister. Yes, you’re annoying most of the time, but I still do love you.”

“Then why do you have to treat me like your sex toy?” She was sobbing now. “ Why can't you be gentle? Why at least you can’t be gentle with me?”

“Ryu, what’s happening.” You really don’t understand what’s happening here, what is this all about. “I don’t know. Maybe because you bully me when we fuck? But I like it, and… And… Maybe I don’t wanna admit that I enjoy fucking my sister.” This is really the first time you say that because it is truly the first time you two get remotely close to talk about this.

Ryujin tries to push you away but your hug is thigh. “Lier, you’re just like the others. You want me because you can fuck me everytime you want.”

“What? Nooo Ryu, no.” Seriously, this is going to a weird place. “Are the rumors true?”

“Yes, they are. I’m campus's easiest slut to fuck as everyone knows, even you had hear that.” She sobs loudly” I’m so tired of people faking that they are close to me because they wanna fuck me. I’m so tired of people trying to get me drunk because in that way is more easy to fuck me.” Your sister was losing the battle against tears because some had dropped over her cheeks. “I’m a person too. I’m capable of more things than getting my holes stuffed and moaning. I just can’t stop, I can’t feel ok if I'm not drunk or messing with you.”

“Ryu stop!” Maybe you said that a little louder than you should have. “What are you talking about?” Now you hold her face with one hand and dry her tears with the other. “You’re more than that to me. Remember, you're my sister. Don’t you remember who pulled me out of the lake that time I almost drowned when we were kids? Did you forget that time when I broke auntie’s Joohyun porcelain and you said that it was your fault so that they wouldn't scold me?” More tears came from your sister’s eyes when she heard your words. “Have you never noticed why I’m always studying so much? Is because of you. When I started college I wanted to have the same good grades as you because you're so smart. You don’t even need to study. Even now that you're drunk almost every weekend you still have good grades. How can you not see that I do care for you?”

“Lier…” Ryujin wasn’t fighting anymore. She was just there crying in silence, grabbing you tightly by your jacket.

“Ryu, please. I really enjoy our times together… I. “ This is something you don’t wanna admit, not even in your mind, but maybe this is the only moment you could do it. “You wanna know why I’m not getting laid? Isn’t because I’m a nerd or something, in fact some girls have asked me to go on dates with them but I can’t. They aren’t annoying like you, they aren’t as smart as you… I can’t go with them.” Yeah. Your relationship with your sister was really fucked up, and for the things you were saying this was a point from no return.

“You…” Her hands were shaking. “ You really mean it?” Even with the poor light you could see a bright in her eyes when she asked that, and wasn’t the bright of her tears.

“Yes, and you can call me your loser if you want.” Now Ryujin is the one who hugged you, hiding her head in your chest but never stop crying. “But please stop crying. We still can have a good night. We can watch another movie or somet…” You weren't able to finish what you were to say because Ryujin grabbed your face and kissed you.

Was a shy kiss, something different to everything you had ever had with her. Normally your kisses are dirty, furtive, charged with sexual tension and short. This was different, more needy for something that you can’t describe at the moment, but you were kissing her too. Her tears were wetting your face while your lips were dancing together. One of her hands was still holding tightly the side of your jacket.

After what you said, after what you admitted, this feels so different. Suddenly you're hungry for your sister, you want more from her but you remember what she said and don’t wanna break this moment. You seriously love her for more than her pussy, after all she’s your big sister, but now this kiss is doing things to you.

You don’t need to worry anymore for whatever you should do because it is Ryujin who hugs you by your neck and makes her body closer to yours. Since the blanket isn’t covering you anymore, the temperature on your bodies has started to drop, but this kiss is bringing up the thermometer. The kiss is becoming needy and her hands are playing in your neck.

You grab her by the waist , a shiver ran through her body when your hands meet her skin making her tremble for a moment. Ryujin broke the kiss panting for air. She’s not crying anymore, instead there is this new light in her eyes. Something has changed on her. You try to say something but she muted you with a quick kiss on your lips and start lifting your jacked. You help her to take off the garment and your shirt goes along with it. The cold of the winter didn’t bother you because Ryujin's hands are over your chest, you feel a strange warm coming from where she touch you and spreading across your entire body.

“Ryu…” But she muted you again with a kiss before taking a step back. Without taking her eyes from yours Ryujin opens her jacket, leaving her cape on, and lets it fall over the blanket on the floor. She’s not wearing lingerie or something fancy as someone would think, instead she’s wearing a normal bra like she would wear on a normal day. In some way you prefer it like this, but at least said garment is red, matching the thematic of her outfit.

She attempts to take off her thigh highs but you stop her. “No… leave the stockings… Please.” She says nothing but just takes off her miniskirt instead. Ok, she wasn’t wearing lingerie but her underwear matches, even when they were simple pieces they were matching. You found that a lovely gesture because you understand that you weren't meant to see that since she wanted to have just a nice moment with you instead of hooking up. So the makeup and all the prep was just for her to feel better and pretty.

Your sister looks beautiful standing on the blankets, wearing only her underwear and cape. To you, the light from the television and the twinkling lights from the tree don't do justice to her flawless skin. You wish this had been a moonlight night so she could be bathed for the silver light, but instead the snow is falling and pilling outside.

You both are nervous to make the first move, as if you were a couple having their first time instead of a pair of siblings that had known each other since forever. But it is Ryujin that finally reaches you first. She hugs you and soon her hands are playing with your neck again. You can help but find her lips and share a kiss, more passionate this time. Your hands wander across her skin, caressing her waist and tummy.

Despiste Ryujin exercising regularly, her body is not that toned. It's just on the verge between being fluffy and muscular, and you find that so attractive. You can see her biceps contract when she’s carrying something heavy, or punching you, but also can see her thighs jiggle when she walks around. Seeing your sister half naked like this is like a heavenly vision to you.

By this point you have been fucking around for almost two years, but you never have seen her completely naked. Well maybe that time when you ate her pussy from behind when she was about to take a shower. But that was just for a brief moment, nothing like this where she's yours to watch and touch, even when she isn’t completely naked. Your encounters are always fast, subtitles, hiding and trying not to make a noise so your parents can´t fin their children fucking. But here and now both of you know that you can give free rein to your darkest desires.

Ryujin again is the first to move and reach your waistband making you pant fall to your ankles. Your boxer does a miserable job at hiding the tent that formed where is your dick. But how not to be hard when you’re doing this with your beloved sister? It’s impossible not to.

“My little loser is already so excited.” Of course she has to make fun of you in a moment like this, can’t be in another way. “Let noona take care of you tonight.” She whispered that into your ear with her raspy deep voice, and made a shiver run through your spine. Or maybe it is because Ryujin is stroking your erection, and even when is covered with your boxer she still can feel your bulge throbbing in her hand when it is being inflated with blood.

You moan and kiss her again. Maybe the loudest moan you had ever allowed her to cause on you, but is quickly muted by the kiss. Your tongue invades her mouth and she accepts it, but she’s still the one that’s guiding the kiss. After all, your sister is the one with more experience here. You only have kissed a couple of girls before rejecting them, so your sister’s are the lips you have tasted the most.

She takes off your boxer too and you kick it away with the rest of your clothes. Now you're totally naked and in her hands to do whatever she wants. The imbalance of power is evident here but you don’t care, after all Ryujin said that she will take care of you and you believe in her. So the gentle push she gave you on your chest didn't take you off guard this time, but still made you fall into the couch.

“Shhhh.” She muted you by putting a finger over your lips when you opened your mouth to say something, and instead of letting you know what she was gonna do, Ryujin just knelt down between your legs. You knew what was coming by the way she was staring at your shaft with those feline eyes, as if a lion were stalking their prey. Ryujin wrapped her fingers around your erection once again and gave you gentle strokes, immediately a drop of precum forms on your tip.

You feel her tongue on your head collecting your precum, and her warm breath on your shaft. The view you have is amazing and your sister stares back at your eyes, looking to your soul, when she starts engulfing your tip and slowly but never stopping she swallows your meat till her lips touch her hand. A big portion of your erected shaft is in your sister’s mouth, and you feel so comfortable being surrounded by her warmth that you don't even bother on think that this is wrong.

And then, Ryujin starts sucking your dick, but again something feels different. This is not fast, she’s taking her time to give you an actual blowjob and not just some quick blows. She strokes you at a slow pace while her head is going up and dong on your dick, her tongue also is playing around your meat maximizing the pleasure you're receiving. As she said, your sister is taking care of you.

“Relax, loser.” Her voice is so calm, and despiste calling you names you know this time she isn’t making fun of you. All you can do is pet her head and caress her hair while she continues sucking your shaft. The feeling is so amazing, like no other head she has ever given you. Your dick feels so welcome inside her warm mouth.

Your sister doesn't go really deep, just swallowing half of your dick, but this still is so pleasant. Her tongue dances around your shaft in ways that you even knew were possible. That makes your breath heavy and by the look on her eyes she’s proud of that, she likes what she’s making you feel. But she still gives you more and the blowjob becomes messier and sloppy. Ryujin is now coating your shaft with her saliva.

When Ryujing takes your shaft out of her mouth it is so covered in her saliva that some drops fall into your balls. “Come here.” She makes space for you in the blankets beside her, and you let yourself slide from the couch to the floor. Your sister loses no time and sits on your lap, pressing her clothed core into your wet shaft.

She finds your lips again, and despite feeling your taste on her mouth you don’t wanna be kissing someone else. Your hands find her ass and knead her plump buttocks. A needy moan is released right into your mouth at the time your sister starts riding you, and her hands are cupping your face. The way she moves over you drives you crazy and makes her underwear wet, you can feel it even with your shaft coated in her saliva, so her pussy must be completely soaked by her own juices.

“Just let me…” Ryujin raised her body a little to slide her panties to the side, releasing her pussy from the embrace of the fabric. Then she aligns her glistening folds over your tip and descends slowly, taking your dick at a tortuous pace. “You feel soooo stretching me out.” Her voice is so low when she talks again, but you still can hear traces of her raspy tone on it. “You’re filling me so well, Loser.” She don’t move, instead Ryujin just kiss your face and plays with your hair. Right now she’s so far from being the bully and annoying sister that she has been this past years.

When Ryujin moves her hips again, you feel how her walls tighten around your throbbing shaft. That feels delicious, to say it in one way. Her warm wetness is surrounding your hard meat, and her lips are glued to yours in a passionate shared kiss. She rides you slowly, enjoying every movement and releasing waves of pleasure through your bodies.

Once again, as you have been so many times, you're so buried inside your sister’s cunt. But despite all the times you have done this, this time feels more pleasant. Like if you had unblocked a new level of passion between you two. Something that wasn't supposed to be archived by a pair of siblings. A bonding really forbidden.

You need more of her body, so your hands reach for the back of her bra, but you struggle to get it open. You haven’t done it enough times to memorize the process yet. “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.” The words are followed by a small giggle. “Another day I'll teach you to open it with just one hand.” Ryujin bites your lower lip and you get nervous causing your hands to slip from her bra. “Try it again.” Isn’t a order, is most like a petition. “Take off noona’s bra. I want my tiddies sucked.” You finally get the strength and concentration to get the damn clasp of her bra open. She laughs amused and throw her bra way, finally releasing her breasts.

Her tiddies aren’t big, but are big enough to fill your hands. Her nipples feel so stuffed and you caressing them makes them harder. But regardless of the fact that this feels amazing, this isn’t what your sister said she wants. She was clear on her petition, she wants her tiddies sucked and you’re no one to refuse it.

As soon as your mouth meets her right tit you feel how Ryujin’s arch her back. By pure instinct your tongue is playing with her hard nipple, and by the moans she’s releasing you think you’re doing good. Your other hand is on her left breast, playing with it as well. Ryujin practically huge your head holding you in place, so you can’t stop sucking her tits, and you do as you were told. From time to time you change what of her tiddies is on your mouth and what is being caressed by your hand, but you never stop sucking and your sister never stops riding you.

Her movements are now faster and messier. You feel her wetness around you and how her walls embrace your throbbing shaft. The way she makes you feels is so amazing, never ever before fucking your sister has been so pleasant. Apparently she’s having a good time too, because her moans never stop. In fact, they are just becoming louder as she rides you and you play with her tits.

“You're making noona feel so good.” You didn’t need a confirmation because you already could feel it, but her words are well received. The way she’s moaning, the way you make your sister moan and shiver in pleasure make you feel proud. Despite not being experienced you still can make Ryujin have a good time, and not one of those furtive hook ups you have been having.

“God, those batches don’t know what they’re missing.” Ryujin manages to say between her moans and whimpers. “My little brother's cock feels so good inside me.” Her dirty but affirmative words toward you make your dick throb inside her.

You redoubles your attacks over her tiddies, sucking and kissing. Rolling her nipples between your fingers and covering them in saliva with your mouth.

“You want noona to cum over you? To mark you?” You can’t respond because your mouth is busy sucking her left tiddie, but you can suck harder to let her know you want her to reach her orgasm over you, in your arms. Apparently the massage is well received because she changes the pace of her hips.

Now your sister’s movements are slower but conscious, she’s never breaking the pace. Also she’s taking you as deep as she can every time your hips meet, making your shaft completely disappear inside her.

Despite being a cold Christmas night, with snow falling and all, your bodies are warming each other to the point you feel no cold. Plus this is so pleasant that nobody could focus on feeling cold when you have your beautiful sister riding your cock.

“This feel good? Noona is taking good care of you?” She kisses your forehead in a gesture that's way too romantic for the situation, but honestly you don't care anymore. What's the point on denying that you aren't just fucking but you're making love with your sister? There is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see, they say. And maybe it is time to open your eyes and accept those feelings. No matter how twisted they are.

Maybe Ryujin needs someone that actually loves and takes care of her too, instead of just wanting to stuff her holes. And maybe you can be that person, or at least you can be there for her till she finds someone. But honestly, who can be better for her than you?

“My little loser is making noona feel so good.” The control she has over her voice even when is so close to orgasm is amazing. You feel how messy and fast her movements are, but nothing of that can be spotted on her voice. She sounds calm, with her deep raspy voice doing things to you. Making you throb inside of her as if you have a second heart down there.

Finally the wetness of her core drench your balls letting you know she reached the precious climax. But not just that, because you can hear how your sister is moaning right into your ear. Ryujin is still riding you, slowly decreasing her pace till she’s sitting in your lap, with your shaft buried inside her.

She’s practically panting because she did almost all the effort, but hair isn’t what she needs now. All your sister can think is on finding your lips and sharing one of those passionate kisses with you. Ryujin is holding your face, not forcing you but not wanting you to go. She doesn't need hair because she can have that anytime, all she needs now is the only person that doesn't see her as a slut.

Time gets blurry when you are passionately kissing your sister like that. Hungry but also slowly, in a way you have never felt before. No girl’s lips made you feel like this before, is a new hunger that you just found and don’t know if it is right that you are satisfying it. This gluttony may be a capital sin.

“That was good.” Ryujin said before kissing your forehead again and playing with your hair. “Best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.” Your sister hugs you seeking for your body heat on this cold winter night. You are just there, laying on the floor with your sister hiding from the world under her christmas cape and between your arms.

“What about me having an orgasm too?”

“Don’t know if you deserve one.” Her head is resting on your shoulder. “It's your punishment for making me cry.”

“I thought I made you cry with pleasure.” You joke while lovely petting her black hair, as if your balls were not coated on sex fluids for the second time that night. All your sister’s fault.

“Don’t be that bold, Loser. You are still not that capable. But…” She pauses to ponder whether she should say the following or not. “Maybe noona can give you another lesson. Another Christmas gift.” She said before kissing your jaw and asking with a whisper right into your ear. “Wanna be a big boy and fuck noona in the ass?”

#itzy x reader #itzy smut #ryujin smut #ryujin #shin ryujin #gg smut #kpop smut #itzy #fanfic

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abbysplaything · 2 months ago

Text

Just Friends ?

Bsf!abby x fem reader

You and Abby both share a dorm in college, by chance. Becoming close friends throughout the year, learning more about each other’s bodies. Nothing about your relationship is inherently romantic, besides all those times you’ve caught her staring and vice versa, as well as the small, subtle touches. You’ve always felt like the line between friends and something more is a little more blurred than in most friendships. A small crush couldn’t possibly hurt your friendship that badly, right?

You can’t help but notice her physique, it’s impossible to miss. Abby is anything but small. The way her clothes fit her, hugging her in just the right places, highlighting her figure. Abby’s hot. Wayy too hot to remain just friends. But what are you supposed to do?

You’ve been friends all this time, it’s not like you can just go up to her and ask her out…“Hey Abby, I know we’re super close friends, but I reallyy want to fuck you.”, It’s an incredibly stupid idea. That’s why you need to focus on yourself, not her or her stupidly charming smile, big strong hands, or her stomach when her shirt rides up just the teeniest amount while stretching.

How hard can it be to maintain a friendship with the hottest girl on campus, especially when she’s only at arms reach? You can tell yourself to back off all you want, but deep down you know, you want need to fuck Abby Anderson.

“Hey…Abby?” Redirecting her attention during her study sessions is off limits, according to Abby, she needs all the seconds she can get, which is stupid, everything comes naturally to her.

Abby sighs, takes a pause to look up at you then back down at her notebook. “What’s the matter now? You’ve already called me like a million times since I’ve sat down.”, Obviously annoyed, Abby still finds time to cater to your needs.

“I know, I'm sorry, it’s just—I really need to talk to you about last night”, after all this time, you haven’t been able to bring uo to Abby the real reason you’ve been pestering her. “I know I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it, but I’ve been thinking about it and it’s been fucking with me.” Nervously playing with your hair, you wait for Abby to react. She keeps herself collected, as usual, right now, it doesn’t exactly soothe you as a normally would. Abby’s silence bothers you, as if she’s ignoring you. You contemplate calling out her again, before she readjusts herself to face you.

She drops what she’s doing, now focused on the conversation you opened up. Now staring up at you from her desk, Abby looks tense, like she’s bothered by your issue as well. Her hands sit gently on her lap, they look so fucking good, her legs spread—not too much, but enough for you to get a real good look at everything. “There’s not much to talk about, what happened, happened.”, all she gives you is a lazy response, pretending not to understand why you’ve brought this up.

Frustrated, you move off the bed and walk over to her desk. Now you’re staring right down at her. And her pretty little eyes, looking up at you, just the way she knows you like. You have to restrain yourself from giving in and throwing yourself all over her. “You didn’t forget what happened last night did you?” You lower your voice as if it’s a secret, not like it ever had a chance with all the noise you made. “Don’t you remember what we did?” You look around nervously, regretting mentioning this.

Abby scoffs, relaxing back into her chair a little more. “Of course, I remember, how could I forget? You were so noisy.”Abby says, mockingly, looking you up in down with a hint of amusement in her eye. Abby rests her elbows on the arms of the chair, swiveling a bit. “Why’d you wanna talk about this, what’s bothering you?”, She’s beginning to get what you’re hinting at, you want to establish a title, be more than just friends, as if you ever were.

“Abby, I— what are we? Are we just friends? Best friends? Something more?” Your embarrassment showing through your words, more so through your body language; you’re practically sweating, your body so hot Abby could probably feel the heat coming off of you from her chair. “I don’t wanna push anything on you, I’m just confused. I don’t mean to overstep or anything. I totally get it if you just wanna be casual. But don’t you think it’s weird to, you know, fuck your friends?” Now you’re just begging Abby to give you some reassurance, that she wasn’t using you, she meant all of the things she’d whispered in your ear. You wanted her to mean all of it.

She reaches out for your waist, with one hand, rubbing circles with her thumb and the other pressing against your lower back, just above your ass. “Why are you so stressed about this, I like fucking you…but if you dont feel the same way then…” she rolls her eyes, “who am I kidding, I know you love it just as much as I do, moans never lie.” She says slyly, wearing her stupid smirk, Abby looks so fucking hot, when doesn’t she? It pisses you off. Why does she have to look like that? It’s annoying, how does she expect you to control yourself when that’s just what she looks like, never mind the physical touch…

“So what if I like to fuck my best friend? Didn’t hear you complain last night, so…just stop worrying about it. Besides, we weren’t ever gonna stay just friends, I think you know that.” She pulls you in, you’re now leaned over her, grabbing onto the arm rests. As she moves her hands up towards your hair, she grabs a fistful; pulling you down onto her mouth, sloppyily kissing you, your favorite way. You lean into it, arching your back as you moan out.

You couldn’t stop if you tried, Abby was right. You were never cut out to just be friends with her, you needed this.

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Requests - open , Masterlist - Here ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

#cece🤎#Abby my love🤍#abby anderson x reader #abby x y/n #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson fluff #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #abby anderson

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slttygeto · 3 months ago

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"look at the floor or ceiling, or anyone else you're feeling"

pairing: frat! suguru x fem! reader

content warning: slightly nsfw! established relationship, themes of jealousy, suguru and satoru have a frat house and they throw parties, reader has a male friend and they're a little too close.

Jealousy is a foreign, unfamiliar feeling to Suguru. He doesn’t remember a single moment where he felt small or beneath someone when holding your hand or watching you talk to someone else. After all, he knew what he meant to you and he was well aware of the genuine love the two of you had for one another.

But right now, he felt like ripping someone’s head off.

Satoru watches with amusement twinkling in his eyes as his friend’s jaw clenched once—twice, then he looks down at the drink in his hand, runs a hand over his left thigh before chugging down his drink in one go.

“You’re losing it.”

But instead of saying anything in return, Suguru crumples up the red solo cup before throwing it at the white haired male.

“Fuck off.”

“Just admit it dude,” and Suguru feels the blood boil in his veins. “You’re so fucking jealous right now.”

“Why would I be?” He raises an eyebrow. “She’s mine. I don’t got anything to be jealous about.”

Feeling risky and like adding more fuel to the fire, Satoru nods towards you. “Not even the way she’s staring at him?”

He was a friend. Just a friend, you had told him.

A guy whom you had met back in highschool and were extremely close to, someone who had shared a deep connection with you on a platonic level. He was a guy whom you had openly admitted to trusting with your life if Suguru wasn’t around to protect you.

At first he found that endearing, and it was comforting to know that you were able to maintain such a solid friendship with a guy back from highschool.

That was until he met the guy and things changed.

It’s not that he felt insecure, Suguru had never once doubted how attractive he was in your eyes, but there was something about the way you talked to this guy that made his stomach churn.

The inside jokes, the loud gasp when your friend had given you a gift you mentioned once when the two of you were young and naïve. It was the way in which you remembered the menu he used to order when the two of you would have lunch together, the way this friend stood in your kitchen as though he had been there many times before.

But the nail to the coffin was the look this friend was giving you.

Suguru was a large man, tall and broad shoulders and muscular arms which put you in a headlock every time you fuck. He was also a caring lover, tending to your needs and ensuring you were the healthiest you could be.

Logically, there was no need for him to feel jealous.

But God did he want to knock out his fucking teeth.

He doesn’t blame you for looking so fucking good in that short dress of yours, or the way your boobs were almost completely out. He knows that the makeup look you had chosen for that night was breathtaking, and that the lip combo would drive any man crazy.

But at the end of the day, he was going to make you cry your makeup off.

He gets up from the couch, marching through the party crowd and towards the kitchen where he could see you explain to your friend how you sneak in your own snacks to these parties. But your friend’s eyes were all over your body.

“So I walk in with a plastic bag, I try to hide it behind me—“

“Baby,” you look up from the snack plate in front of you when you hear the familiar purring of your boyfriend’s voice, a big smile on your face. “What are you doing?”

But before you could say anything, Suguru’s hand firmly grasps your waist before pulling you towards him. Your back slams against his chest, and your face flushes when his other hand travels down to your hip.

“I— I was eating snacks and you-“

“Oh, I meant the conversation you were having.” You can’t see your boyfriend’s face, but you notice the slight shift in your friend’s face as he looks at Suguru. “Seemed too interesting.”

You giggle nervously as you rest your head against his shoulder, trying to ignore the way his sudden affection was making you feel. “I was telling him about how I sneak in snacks,”

“Oh?” Suguru chuckles, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispers. “Naughty girl.”

Your breath hitches, and you feel trapped between your friend getting a front row ticket to your boyfriend making a mess of you, and Suguru’s large arms holding you in place. Heat travels up to your face and you look away from your friend as your hands grip your boyfriend’s forearms.

Such a familiar feeling to him, but it was missing the nails digging into his skin.

“Stop,” you giggle again, this time out of breath. You try to get out of his grasp, but Suguru goes from holding you in place to trapping you between his body and the counter. His body is looming over yours in a familiar manner, one arm gently wrapped around your shoulders whilst he rests his other hand on the counter. Then he places his chin on top of your head, pressing his chest further against your back.

“Go on, you weren’t done.” He speaks in a low, sultry voice, emphasizing each word with a press of his crotch against your ass.

It throws you off guard, leaving you a flustered mess as you make a poor attempt of collecting your thoughts. You can't look your friend in the eye, he's gone completely quiet as he watches the scene unfold before him.

Suguru's quiet yet loud dominance, the pace at which you melted against him, the lack of hesitance to give yourself completely to your boyfriend. Your friend felt very out of place.

"I get the bag," you start, this time avoiding eye contact. "And Suguru usually comes through the door and--"

"stare at you for a good minute, taking in how pretty you are," he says loud enough for your male friend to hear, and playfully so your face gets hotter.

"T-Then he takes the bag from me and lets me go to his room to finish getting ready,"

"Mhm," he rests his cheek on the top of your head, staring at your friend. "My room always smells like you by the time you're done."

"And Suguru puts the snacks in the pantry where no one goes."

"Not that Satoru lets them," the tall male cracks a joke, flashing your friend a smile.

Next thing you knew, your friend was excusing himself and marching towards the bathroom.

You try to turn and face Suguru, pushing your ass against his crotch so he could weaken his grasp around your shoulders. However, you let out a quiet gasp when you feel something hard against your ass and Suguru trapping you further against the counter.

"Suguru?" you ask quietly, fingernails digging in his forearms when you feel his lips drag down your neck.

"Hm?"

"What was that about?" You giggle when he nips at the skin of your neck. But he doesn't respond, continuing to give your neck open-mouthed kisses until he reaches your shoulders and then your bare back.

"Not here--" you gasp when he kisses the back of your neck, trailing down your back. You arch away from him, but Suguru's hand wraps around your neck and squeezes lightly.

"Right here," your breath hitches at the lust coating his voice, nails digging deeper into his skin. "Let's warm up a little."

#my man my man my man #words cannot describe how much i love him #in my head were dating #i missed writing for himmm #moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jealousy #geto suguru x reader smut

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starsandsuch · 8 months ago

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Nakshatras I associate with fame:

Disclaimer: In this post I seek to reveal Nakshatras that bestow fame yet aren’t usually talked about when it comes to “fame” Nakshatras. We already know the more obvious Nakshatras that bestow fame like Dhanishta, Magha, Aqua/Leo etc but the following naks are ones that I see in the charts of many famous people , influencers and public figures. Sun, Moon, Ascendant or Atmakaraka Planet.

Vishaka -usually popular in the music industry. They accumulate a lot of power and achieve a lot in the public eye. They are polarizing figures -ppl either love them or hate them, but they gain even more fame from having haters than lovers.

Revati - they gain popularity easily and it tends to be long lasting for them. They’ll have a lot of followers on social media and people fawn over everything they do. Like “omg she wore army pants and flip flops, so I bought army pants and flip flops”. They are excellent socialites as well-they know a lot of people.

Punarvasu - they have a global appeal. They’ll be famous where they’re from but also in different countries and cities, worldwide. I notice these natives pictures/content gets reposted on social media a lot. They’ll be popular IRL and online. Many Punarvasus will have a famous spouse/parter and gain fame bc of them.

Ashlesha - there is almost always a current social trend that traces back its origins to an Ashlesha native. Which I talk about in this post about mercury naks. They are always trending on social media, even the most followed people on IG -Cristiano Ronaldo and Kylie Jenner- both are Ashlesha natives. People circulate Ashlesha’s images a lot online, and even if they don’t post frequently a lot of people obsess over their content/images that are years old. They have many “copycats” as well. Hence why certain trends can started by them, but often they might not receive credit for said trends. Marilyn Monroe had Ashlesha Asc and in present day people are still circulating her images and copying her look, decades after her death.

Pushya - this is one of the top socialite Nakshatras. They’re good at being all things it all people, they’re public image is just naturally likable. They have a balanced reputation that is favored by many demographics. They tend to be the “cash cow” for their family, record label, franchise etc so they have big machines/teams of people behind them that prolong and maintain their fame.

Swati - another top socialite Nakshatra. Over the course of their life they accumulate so many different social connections, that they are just undeniably popular. They are great at manipulating their public image to attract bigger audiences. They are polarizing figures, that tend to profit from having haters.

Purva Phalguni - if anyone was destined to gain fame at some point in their life, it’s purva phalguni. These natives will gain worldwide fame very quickly, even at a young age. They “blow up” over night, and people can’t get enough of their theatrics. They love performing and out of all the Nakshatras listed here , I feel like they enjoy + desire fame the most. They’re someone that may be disliked in personal relationships but the public loves them + their image.

Purva Ashadha - they are talented at being theatrical and interesting. Their image in the public eye is a glamorous one. People consider them “goals” a lot of the time, so frequently they have a cult like following.

Leo Nakshatras and fame

Mercury Nakshatras and manipulation

Fame indicators in Astrology

What would make you famous based on your birth chart?

#astrology #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #astro observations #vishaka #pushya #ashlesha #swati #purva phalguni #Punarvasu #Revati #purvashada #2024 #fame #starsandsuch

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navyiera · 6 months ago

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T!TS

vi x fem!reader

tags; smut, fingering, brat taming, dirty talk, established relationship, oral fixation (vi) teasing, lots of nipple play, dom!vi, sub!reader.

a/n: i realised that some of y'all really wanted it when i opened my mail so here it is. Just part 1 so it's the boring part. I kinda had to rush it so it's messy and it sometimes doesn't make sense and reading this back made me realise how little the reader speaks but i've got actual papers to write so i left it as it is. Lets imagine that reader doesn't speak much (please) anyways tq for so much interaction on my Cait fic!! Caitlyn smut coming up. Yessir. Also mdni.

“Violet!” you call, your voice dripping with a mix of impatience and entitlement. The silk sheets pool at your waist as you sit up, hair mussed from sleep. You’re used to getting what you want when you want it—and Vi? She knows it.

But she doesn’t answer.

You pout, your perfectly manicured nails drumming against the nightstand as you huff. Throwing on one of Vi's oversized shirts (the irony isn’t lost on you), you stomp toward the kitchen.

There she is, in all her composed glory. Her hands wrapped in bandages, her sharp jawline illuminated by the morning sunlight, and she’s wearing that smug smirk that always makes your stomach tighten. Vi doesn’t even look up as she leans against the counter, sipping coffee like she owns the world—and you.

“Did you not hear me call you?” you demand, folding your arms.

“I heard you,” she says casually, setting her cup down. Her eyes finally meet yours, dark and unwavering, and you suddenly feel smaller.

You narrow your eyes, determined to maintain the upper hand. “Then why didn’t you come?”

“Because,” she starts, pushing off the counter and sauntering toward you, “I’m not at your beck and call, princess.”

Your breath catches as she closes the distance. You can’t help but take a step back, but the cool granite countertop digs into your spine, trapping you. Vi leans in, her hands bracketing your hips, and the scent of her cologne makes your knees weak.

“I think someone needs a reminder of how things work around here,” she murmurs, her voice low and commanding.

Your bravado falters. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play coy now.” Her hand trails up your thigh, her touch firm enough to leave no room for argument. “You’ve been a brat all day, and I’m done indulging it.”

Her lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You want to act spoiled? Fine. But you don’t call the shots, sweetheart. I do.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “Vi, I—”

“Shh,” she cuts you off, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. Her gaze is predatory, and it makes you feel completely exposed. “Be a good girl for me, and maybe I’ll forgive your little tantrum.”

You nod, your defiance melting into submission under her piercing stare. Vi smirks, satisfied, and tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“See?” she whispers, her lips ghosting over yours. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You don’t get a chance to respond before her mouth captures yours in a kiss that’s equal parts possessive and tender.

"Turn around, baby." she gives your bottom lip a bite before using your hips to turn you around. Vi kisses the back of your neck in delicacy, and she grabs your jaw to make you look up at the mirror infront of you.

"See that chair?" Vi whispers into your ear and all you've got in you is to nod, she pulls back and gently pushes you forward. She's got ideas and you know it.

"Bend over it for me, hm?" she pretends to ask but her tone is more demanding than interrogative. If you get everything the way you want it, Vi gets whatever she wants from you.

She walks over as you do as she says. Her hand coming up to tap your behind, your ears, cheeks and back turning red from embarrassment.

"Can I?" She asks and she pulls the waistband of your underwear, making it snap against your skin when she lets go. Vi doesn't wait for an answer before she's pulling your panties aside.

"Hah! Look at that" her fingers trails between your folds, leaving a slick sound that causes her to smile.

You gasp when she pushes your head further down into the cushions, she kisses the back of your neck, then pulls the neckline of your (her's) t-shirt and bites your shoulder.

"I think I know just what to do with you," she puts a hand to your hips, sending waves down your spine. Vi is quick to throw you over her shoulders and carry you to your bedroom. She'd fuck you in the kitchen but that's something for sometime later.

Your hair sprawls on the pillow as you get thrown down with a faint thud, Vi moves over to you and eyes you up and down before shifting between your legs, placing soft kisses on your abdomen.

"Vi, I—" you start but get cut off by a slap on the plane of your stomach, she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up so that youre sat on her lap

"Ah ah, did I tell you to speak, dollface?" she's getting closer as she says this, until she wraps her strong arms around your waist, holding you securely on her lap as you sit facing her. With no time wasted, she leans down and takes one of your sensitive nipples into her warm, soft mouth.

A whimper leaves your lips, your hands coming to hold onto her shoulders only for her to take them and hold onto them behind your back, earning another whine from you.

"Mhm I know, baby" Vi murmurs, her voice muffled against your breast. "If you behaved earlier, I would've let you touch me."

She suckles diligently, her tongue laving over your tender nipple as she holds your arms back with one hand. Vi's free hand travels to your your other breast, cupping and squeezing the soft mound. She starts to knead and massage the supple flesh tenderly, her thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your other nipple between them.

"Mhng! Please— d-don't bite." You plead but she just bites harder in response, creating an aching friction to the peaks of your tits. Vi switches to your other nipple, suckling it roughly, as she continues to fondle and caress your breast.

"Don't tell me what to do." Vi murmurs, pressing kisses to the valley between your boobs, she lets go of your hands and trails her fingers towards your inner thighs, making sure her nails are dragging and digging into your skin.

"mnmh vi–"

Vi smirks against your skin, the vibrations of her amusement rumbling through you. "Yeah?" she replies, nipping at the swell of your breast. Her hand slides higher, fingertips brushing maddeningly close to your aching core.

"Such a brat." Vi's voice is a low, husky rasp, sending shivers down your spine. "You think you deserve to be touched just because you want to?"

Her nails dig into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, leaving red crescents in their wake. Vi's other hand continues its relentless assault on your sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling the stiff peaks until they throb with need.

Vi's fingers dance along the edge of your panties, not quite touching where you need her most. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and intense, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Beg for it," she commands, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Beg for me to touch your pretty little pussy."

When she hears nothing more than a whimper from you, her thumb presses down on your clit, circling the sensitive nub with maddening pressure. Gosh she drove you insane. Vi leans in, her lips brushing against yours as she speaks.

"Go on, baby. Why're you hesitating, hm?"

With a gulp, you close your eyes, swallowing your pride and ego. You needed this afterall, didn't you? "P-Please?"

Vi chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at pleading. "That's it? How disappointing." she taunts, her fingers still teasing maddeningly along the damp fabric covering your core.

She leans in closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispers, you could tell she was enjoying this moment of having the upperhand. "Try again, maybe I'll listen"

Vi punctuates her demand by slipping a finger beneath the hem of your panties, the tip of her fingers just barely grazing your slick folds. She doesn't push inside, instead tracing your slit with a feather-light touch that has you squirming with need.

"Come on, dollface. I don't have all day." Vi coaxes, her voice an impatient mumble.

Her other hand continues its relentless assault on your breasts, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh, pinching and rolling your nipples until they ache deliciously.

Another breath, another try, another plead, "I—" the words reman stuck in your throat.

Vi hums in acknowledgement and nips at your earlobe, tugging on it with her teeth before soothing the sting with her tongue. She tightens her grip on your wrists, pinning them above your head as she looms over you. Her other hand slips fully inside your panties, a single finger teasing through your slick folds.

"Don't waste my time, baby." Vi scolds, her voice low and disapproving. She circles your entrance, not yet delving inside, as if daring you to try harder. You know it's a lie because she'd fuck you all day yet you believe her just in that moment.

At your continued silence, Vi crushes her lips against yours in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue. She swallows your whimpers and moans, refusing to let you make a sound until she allows it.

Breaking the kiss, Vi's eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, leaning in at the sound of your mumble, "Hm?"

"Ple— nothing"

She rolls her eyes and presses a single finger tip against your entrance, the slightest bit of pressure that has you clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. You still had a massive ego so you still protested against her requests.

Now she was pissed, she started this for shits and giggles but your stubborn and bratty behaviour was getting on her nerve. She loved you. Yes. But as someone who had to work for everything in her life, this attitude was got gonna be tolerated.

"Need'a lesson? Sure, I'll fucking give it to you." Her jaw clenched before roughly shoving two fingers knuckle-deep inside your dripping cunt. They pump in and out at a punishing pace, curling against that special spot inside you that makes your toes curl, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing merciless circles over the sensitive bud.

It is when she kisses down your neck when you break, you needed that closeness, and she gave it to you unknowingly, you didn't want her to be genuinely mad at you but she is and yet she still cares to not hurt you.

"More, please?" It's quiet but you said it. And it counted for Vi, she would've done worse but seeing the look in your eyes stopped her. Despite her tough act, she was a pushover when it came to you.

Vi smiles at your attempted plea, her fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your dripping cunt. "Finally," she sighs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Took long enough."

She scissors her fingers inside you, stretching your walls as her thumb rubs tight circles around your throbbing clit. Vi leans down to capture your nipple between her teeth, biting down just hard enough to make you yelp before soothing the sting with her tongue. (oral fixation evidence)

"I think there's more for you to say though," she murmurs against your tits, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Whimpers turn to moans, and the air is starting to get hot.

Vi's other hand releases your wrists, only to grab your hip in a bruising grip, holding you in place as she grinds her palm against your aching core. She pistons her fingers in and out of your clenching heat, curling against that special spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Please, Vi!" you cry out, too far gone to care about the desperation in your voice. "Please fuck me. Please? I'll be good? P-Promise!"

Your hips buck against her hand, chasing the pleasure only she can give you. Vi chuckles, the sound vibrating through you as she redoubles her efforts, fucking you harder and faster with her fingers.

"That's it, baby. Take it," she murmurs, her eyes glaring into yours, almost in validation for how she's doing a good job at making you feel good. Because deep down Vi needs that and if she has to fuck you till the sun rotates twice. She will.

strap!vi part two.

#vi smut #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #vi x fem reader #vi x reader #vi x female reader #wlw #wuh luh wuh #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane x you #vi arcane x y/n #violet x reader #violet x fem reader #vi blurb #vi imagines #vi oneshot #arcane smut

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