#this one didn't turn out quite how I had imagined
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daryldove · 2 days ago
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Distraction
daryl x gn!reader
summary: you keep daryl company daryl while he recovers in the farm house
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“cut it out,” you giggle, squirming under daryl's hand as he jabs your side playfully. after offering to take the injured hunter some dinner, you manage to convince him to let you stay and keep him company, something he'll deny enjoying if anyone asks. truthfully, you two had become rather close after everything. although from his perspective, not by choice. “You're supposed to be resting, mister,” you scold him with a smirk as you adjust your position against the headboard.
“can't when ya botherin’ me.” you gasp dramatically at his sarcastic comeback. daryl is incredibly charming, even when he didn't mean to be. it's one of the things you quite admire about him, as well as his sarcastic humour, something the others didn't get to witness to the extent you did. you're not even completely sure if they knew it existed. but he knew how to make you laugh, and he seemed to enjoy it.
“is that what this is now? and here I thought you loved my company, dixon.” that earns you a scoff in response. “admit it,” you continue with a proud tone, “im your favourite in the group.” he doesn't respond right away, forcing you to turn your attention from staring ahead to check on him. the sudden, unexpectedly soft look in his eye has you momentarily speechless.
“what?” you internally thank any god out there that your voice doesn't crack in that moment. gaze flicking over his dirty face, you can't help admire how oddly adorable he looks bundled up under sheets and wrapped in bandages. you feel your heart clench. eventually, daryl shrugs it away with a grunt, shutting himself back off. it's something he does often. you can practically see the thought piling up in his mind, but he always holds back. it stirs an unaccustomed feeling in your gut. complicated.
something feels different this time. maybe because for the first time since you met him, you feel safe. vulnerable. he's lying injured before you, both protected by four walls. it feels wrong to take advantage of this moment to open him up, but maybe that's what it'll take. “are your stitches bothering you?” his hand stops yours from reaching out to touch the bandage around his head, freezing you in place. his hand is rough and warm around yours, short circuiting your mind for a split second. you don't pull away, despite him probably expecting you to. instead, you lean closer towards him.
daryl's eyes flick between yours, as if answers to his curiousity reflects in them. you want to tease him, say something out of pocket that will turn him speechless. instead, you move your hand to rest against his cheek. he practically flinches as you cup his face, reacting like he's undeserving of the softness of your touch. but it doesn't appear unwanted. never.
“how are you feeling?” you ask with a light voice. it's not about his injuries, and he seems to pick up on that. he nods slightly and clears his throat before answering. “good… fine.” your smile grows at his shyness.
“that so?” finally, you let yourself be playful, reassured that he won't be so easily scared off. his gaze is intense and unwavering, and you find yourself unable to resist anymore. leaning down until your lips are barely inches apart, you give him just enough time to pull away. part of you expects him to, like the wall you spent all this time breaking down will be pitched back up in seconds. but he doesn't, nor does he shout and fling himself off the bed to avoid you like your anxiety is convinced he would. so you finally press your lips against his.
daryl's eyes widen in surprise and disbelief while yours subconsciously flutter shut. kissing him feels exactly like you imagined. you can feel your cheeks heating up once you finally pull away, a nervous giggle escaping you at how dazed he looks.
“what?” a smile creeps onto your lips as you question him again. you can practically see daryl's mind spinning as he speechlessly stares up back at you. there's an unreadable look in his eye as seconds pass. unable to help it, your eyes fall to his lips. this time, it's him who pulls you in with a large hand on your neck. his boldness pulls a surprised moan that he swallows.
“guess i am a good distraction,” you whisper after eventually pulling away, scoring a rare, soft chuckle from the hunter.
“guess so.”
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takes1 · 3 days ago
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Hello!! (I don't know exactly how to do this)
Could you write something for Tendo Satori being a simp for short skirts with thigh-high stockings?
Thank you so much
tendou is obsessed with your thigh-highs
hi!! you did it right haha. could not stop thinking about this one. great request!! glad to be able to write it so quickly :0
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warnings. nsfw, minors DNI
details. fem!reader / tendou is a thigh guy / thigh high fetish / almost fingering / makin out / reserved!reader / yapper!tendou / endstate situationship / intense PDA / college au / TA!tendou / 2.3k words / potential for part two idk
links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. my imagines requests open
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Tendou clocked your little outfit the second you walked into his study group's reserved room.
As the TA for this course, he tried to keep himself far away from you, just to clear his mind before trying to help. The library was now 40 minutes away from closing, and the handful of students that showed up were nearly all gone.
Helping the last poor soul with practice questions was not quite enough- he found himself praying you would stay another ten minutes for him to try and flirt, just a little.
He wanted to ask what was the deal with such an eye-catching get-up, but he wasn't sure what the best approach was. So, like usual, he just went with whatever felt right.
"Hey!" He was loud, friendly, and accidentally succeeded in startling you from behind.
You turned in your chosen beanbag to give him an unsure look. You didn't say hello back.
There was something different about this guy. You had your guesses at to what exactly ailed him, but they would remain background noise for the time being. Phone clutched to your chest, you collected yourself again in the aftermath of such a fright.
"Did I scare ya?"
He didn't wait for you to respond through your tiny chuckle. He was on a roll, and needed to open this up.
"Whaaat? No homework?" Tendo pushed his weight forward, limp over your beanbag, right beside you, "Don't tell me you're already done?"
Tendou was absurdly quick. Conversations, usually more confined to a specific, academic topic, usually left you spiraling from his fast and unfocused mind. Most of the time, you felt like a passenger in your own talks, but he was waiting for you now.
You hadn't realized how much time had passed, engrossed in a post on your phone for minutes, now. Everybody was almost gone.
"Um- yeah, I am."
There was so much going on behind the squint he gave you. It made you feel all hot and cold at the same time.
He muttered, looking around the rest of the room, "Smart and pretty, cool- that's cool."
Your mouth hung open a little, a blush creeping over your face, but he was onto the next thing. As if he didn't just call you pretty.
"So-ooo do you usually dress up outside of class?"
It was never one question. In this case it led to lots of elaboration, back-to-back.
"Because I totally did not get the memo, if we were supposed to wear something nice. I mean, bro over there is wearing a piano shirt, suit jacket and jeans. I'm-," He paused a moment to snicker at him, "-A little confused. So--,"
His eyes nearly gave him away. They faltered, slipping down to the sliver of skin showing at the top of your thigh-highs, just before the hem of your skirt ended.
"Do you- usually wear this?"
In a natural response, your eyes were following his, and you automatically pulled down on your skirt to cover yourself.
Your voice was quieter, slower, than his by many measures, "I wouldn't call this 'dressing up,' but, um, it is my style."
He had to mask his frustration -the Hellish screaming from inside- with a bigger, sillier thing.
"You got somewhere to be after this?"
Again, more questions. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he asked them so quick, flighty, like he was maybe asking you about course material.
"Like, a date, or something? Going to- I dunno- see your boyfriend? Something like that?"
Now you understood. He was no-doubt flirting. You set your phone on the floor, an inquisitive smile at your lips.
"I don't have a boyfriend," You looked him up and down slowly, watching how he adjusted, plenty aware of it, "Why do you need to know so bad?"
For the first time ever, he was searching for what to say. You grinned.
"Y'know," You shifted, twisted, to look at him straight on, "If you kissed me, I might kiss you back."
Your teeth clinked together in his haste. It was silly, an endearing accident, that made you smile against him.
His lips were soft, and warm, but he kissed you like you were made of chocolate. Something sweet, something to be devoured. There was no room to doubt his intentions because he was so passionate from the start.
A big, strong hand laced through your roots and guided you to get a better kiss from this angle.
It had been a while since your last fling. Tendou could fill the empty space in your heart, between your legs, for enough time to forget how lonely you were. Longevity wasn't something you were after. He was into you and that would do.
"Mm-h," You parted to tell him to come sit next to you, instead.
Tendou wiped the string of spit from his mouth, flushed, but never backed down. His confidence, especially in the face of being such a weirdo, was a turn-on.
"Ya think this is big enough for me~? Let's seeee,"
You watched, amused, at how he slinked into the space next to you and completely filled it up.
"You're... pretty tall," You confessed, shaky. Your hand shot out to touch him, invested in his size, all of a sudden. Hesitation, at the last second, kept you from following through.
"Mhmmm, you know it. 6'2, if you're curious."
Encouraging, he completed your desire to feel him by placing your hand on his shoulder. He did all the hard work so easily.
You were human. You had your preconceived biases. You thought weird, nerdy guys were supposed to be frail and skinny.
Tendou's shoulder was instead strong, and filled out. His shirt was a thin blend of polyester and cotton that was strained at the bicep and not so much at the waist. His legs stretched out much further than yours. All these titillating realizations kept cascading in big waves of shock. It kept you in a state of stillness that directly contrasted his excited wiggling around to get comfortable.
"You okayy?" He laughed, his proximity a safe, but new change. His words buzzed against your cheek between kisses, "You really like tall guys, or somethin'?"
He did usually wear hoodies, in your cold classroom. The way he slouched in it made him look closer to 5'9". It was warm in here so he had set it on the back of a chair a while ago.
You kissed him, falling against his warm chest in an attempt to shut him up.
Though he loved being chatty, he knew when it was a good time to let other things get the point across.
"Mmh-,"
He returned your passion tenfold. Forearm behind your upper back, a hand wrapped all around the back of your neck, he crushed you back down under him.
God, he was good with his tongue.
It didn't take very long to realize you both wanted each other, bad.
You liked what you were finding out about him, the further he went with you- he knew he liked you from the start of the semester, and now got to express his gratefulness for the chance.
"You should wear these more," His dirty, breathy voice matched the rough way he pulled your thigh-highs down.
Tendou was completely lost in the way your thighs squeezed together, how your stockings were just a little too small, your skirt arguably too short for your ass. No wonder you chose a seat like this, far away from the other students.
What he wanted was for you to sit on his face. But even he knew that idea was too much, so he settled for squeezing at your flesh, adjusting to be more over you.
You gave a closed-mouth moan of surprise at the feeling of a stiff cock under his jeans, rubbing on your leg.
The way he had you all spread and squished again for him, a little tight on space, very last-minute and surprised, was exactly how he wanted you. He grinned. Thanks to his features, that made him look intimidating.
"I've got a- a thing, for these," He explained, clearing the air a little, "Now that I think about it, if you wore this to class, I probably wouldn't be able to focus."
Just the idea of keeping him distracted like that filled you with a hot, focused, urgency. You pulled him in, legs parted, for a raunchier kiss.
He groaned against your mouth, biting your lip, and pressed an eager palm against your pussy.
"Ahh-mm-!" Your whine was getting cut short by another carnivorous suck to your lip.
He got you so wet, so malleable, so quickly.
"Fuck," His hips were grinding on your thigh, apparently enough stimulation for him- it made you feel proud, that you could get him feeling so good without much work.
His digits slid under your soaked panties. You gasped against his mouth, fingers filling with the neck of his t-shirt.
"Mmm, fuck that feels so-o good," His confession devolved into more of a growl.
His fingers were using all the wet there to better slide against your clit, a filthy, smooth sensation that kept you writhing.
"Ohh--oh my go-d," You mewled, eyes scrunched shut at how much you needed it. He swallowed up your sounds with hasty, hard kisses.
His groin kept pressed, rolling, against the back of your thigh.
It felt hot, and big from what you could tell, but you were still left to speculate what he was hiding under those jeans.
Never in a million years would you have guessed that he possessed knowledge on how to touch a woman. In any sense, not just explicitly. He was everyone's favorite, goofy TA. Not some womanizer.
Your fingers raked through his messy hair, taking in the feeling of his tongue against yours, all while trying to keep your noise down.
When he began to part, you didn't fight it, because you needed to breathe. But he stopped moving his fingers, and it left you shaky, needy. You rolled your hips and pressed your leg harder onto his hard-on.
"We sh-ould- we should stop," Tendou sighed, clearing his throat.
He was glancing around the empty study room, head on a swivel. He didn't look particularly upset, nor like he had actually heard something. You sure didn't. What the hell was his problem?
You were grabbing at him, groaning, "What?"
Another little kiss to your forehead, and the hottest, most rabid look any guy had ever given you before made you pause.
"I just- uh, I just have--," He was distracted again, squinting around, "A bad... feeling."
"I made you feel bad?" You sounded more whiny, than anything. You would have thought it embarrassing, but your cunt was throbbing with the need for more, and that took priority.
He chuckled, prying his own fingers from between your legs with marked displeasure.
"Noo, no, you make me feel like I wanna tear our clothes off." He thought for a second, sucking the wet from his index and middle finger, "Then run naked into the woods and never come back. Live like our ancestors. Have like, 16 kids."
There was no time to unpack that.
Just as you had fixed your stockings back, and he rolled off of the beanbag to stand -shifting his cock to a less obvious position in his jeans-, the door opened fast with no knock.
"Heyyy!"
Your wide eyes went straight to Tendou, but he didn't look at you. How did he know?
"Hey!" He greeted piano-shirt guy with typical ease.
The unwelcome guest, somebody you vaguely recognized from your class, explained themselves, glancing about the room, "I left my phone here! Have you guys seen it?"
Your voice cracked to say 'No,' and you vowed to remain silent for the remainder of your fake search for this idiot's phone.
Tendou found it in one of the swivel chairs. Part of you couldn't help but feel like he had some magical powers. Once the guy left, you were left mourning all that perfect proximity, all the dizzying desire you had built so quickly.
"Sooo angry," He cooed.
As he invited you for a hug, it was clear that he found your frustration the most adorable thing in the world.
You tolerated it because he held you. More specifically, he held you and palmed your ass from under your skirt. Your arms were stretched, linked behind his shoulders, as you stole more of his perfect kisses. You pushed him to sit on the table so you could stand between his parted legs.
He kept laughing, giggling at least, and messing your kisses up.
"Mh- what? What is it?"
Tendou snickered, "Didn't know you were such a little freak--,"
"Freak?"
"Ohh-kay, okay, not freak- umm," He giggled at the offense you took, cupping your face in his oversized hands, "Sorry. I really like you. I wanna do this more."
You hadn't caught on quite yet, so you leaned in to kiss him again, but only got his cheek. He grinned at your disappointment.
"Nooot here, though."
He was still squinting around, "I dunno, I still don't feel right."
After such a strong demonstration of predictive ability, you couldn't not trust his warning. You glanced around, too.
"Some other time?"
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☆VIP☆
@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco
my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.
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organic-bloodbath · 3 days ago
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Knife Princess
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Chishiya x Reader
Summary: You're Niragi's little sister, and he's not happy of Chishiya's interest on you. When the final game starts and you get hurt, Chishiya takes care of you.
Warnings: 18+ smut, lots of blood ig.
A/N: I was writing a Chishiya request but realised half way i needed to write a prequel for that first lmao. So, this will have more parts coming up ✨️
♤♡♧◇
During your time at the Beach, Chishiya became intrigued by you. He analyzed your movements when you weren't watching - atleast he thought you didn't notice him.
He could see that men eyed you while you were laying by the pool in your bikinis, but nobody dared to approach you. Everyone knew you were Niragi's sister and that terrified the shit out of them.
Why? Because Niragi seemed to be a little overprotective of you. If he could see even one pair of male eyes thirsting over you, Niragi wouldn't hesitate to beat them up. People here had seen that happen several times. Some men thought they'd get away with a little bit of flirting, but Niragi seemed to have eyes everywhere at any times.
One day, Chishiya watched you, sitting by the edge of the pool once again in your yellow bikinis, legs tangling in the water to cool yourself down. You were enjoying the sun, black sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose. You weren't aware of his gaze, you had no idea how his eyes lingered on your skin. Atleast, that's what he thought.
Chishiya turned around just for a moment to leave, and suddenly you had appeared right behind him.
"You like what you see, hm?" you asked and put your hands on your hips. Chishiya stayed silent, an amused look on his face as he turned around to face you. "I've seen you looking at me, you know," you smirked and bit your lip. "You're not as sneaky as you think you are."
"Is that so?" Chishiya hummed.
"Mhm. A lady like me has grown eyes on her back too," you said proudly.
"I see," Chishiya said, intrigued once more. "So, tell me. Why do you wear boots at the pool?"
Chishiya had noticed that you always had the same leather boots on, while most people wore sandals or were just bare foot.
You only smiled and tilted your head, slowly stepping closer to him so you could reach to put your hands on his shoulders. You leaned so close to his face that you were only inches away from him, and he could feel your minty breath when you whispered: "You'll have to take them off and find out."
And then, only with a smile and a wink you let go of him and turned around, leaving him to stand there by himself to go back inside.
Chishiya wasn't sure if he only imagined it, but it felt like you swayed your hips more dramatically than usual as you knew that he would watch you walking away. If your plan was to not let Chishiya's eyes leave your body - you succeeded with that.
"Careful," Kuina said next to Chishiya. "Don't let Niragi see that you were checking his sister out."
"I wasn't checking her out," Chishiya denied, but he knew that it was a lie. He knew that he'd be dead if Niragi found out even about his thoughts on you, but Chishiya also knew that you were a woman with your own choices.
"Mhm, whatever you say," Kuina said, a hint of worry in her voice.
♤♡♧◇
After your short talk by the pool, it took only two more days to get Chishiya to take you into his bedroom and push you on his bed.
You knew that with right words, you could get any man that you wanted. Not every man could be seduced with the same methods, however, so you needed a little time to calculate what kind of person you were dealing with. You let men flirt with you here, even though you didn't plan to actually do anything with them, but you knew it pissed off Niragi and you enjoyed that.
Of course you wouldn't sleep with everyone here, though, you did have quite high standards and a specific taste and none of the men at the Beach had raised your curiosity enough.
Until you met Chishiya. He stood out from the crowd, usually staying mostly by himself or with a limited one to two people. You wanted to get to know him. No, you needed to get to know him. Maybe not emotionally yet, but atleast physically.
Truthfully, you hadn't had sex in months, you needed it much more than you had thought. Chishiya sucked all the stress and worry off you with his touch which gave you pleasure, even if it was only for a moment.
Right now, Chishiya had you pinned on the bed under him, holding your hands above your head and planting kisses around your neck and collarbones. You didn't know how he managed to find all the sweet spots which made you go insane already on your first time together, but he did nevertheless.
He untied the top of your bikini and threw it away, not caring where it would land. He took off his shirt as well to stay fair with you.
He peppered kisses all around your body as he slowly crawled back, until his head was located between your legs. He pulled the bottom of your bikini off, seeing now every part of your body. It didn't take long for him to rub your clit and push his fingers inside, starting to explore your vagina with different movements.
"Oh, fuck," you gasped. He moved his hand away for a moment but you quickly stopped him by grabbing his hair. "Wait, can you- can you do that again?"
Chishiya smirked. "Do what again?" he asked. "This?"
You arched your back as Chishiya pushed his fingers back inside you, curling his fingers just in the right angle like he had done earlier. You had to grab the bedsheets into your fists to stay still.
When he pushed himself inside you, you felt like this was what you had needed the most during your time at the Beach. During all the games.
Sleeping with him was something you felt like you had needed for years. He was the perfect balance of both rough and gentle in the best way possible to give you pleasure in its highest form.
You had no idea how much time passed while you were trapped between his body and the mattress, you were in complete ecstasy and you never wanted him stop what he was doing.
You were sure your body would be full of marks he had created on your body and you'd have to show it off to everyone, but right now, right at that moment, you didn't care about anything besides you and him.
♤♡♧◇
"What's that?" Niragi asked next morning and stepped closer to you, looking at the bruises on your neck, trying to hide themselves behind you hair. He grabbed your hair and yanked it back to see your neck better. "Are those hickeys? Who made those?"
"What is it for you?" you spat. "You can do whatever you want with whoever and so can i."
Niragi narrowed his eyes for your attitude.
"Who," Niragi growled with a low voice, finger pressing on one of the many bruises, his dark eyes directly on yours, "made that?"
You just grinned smugly.
"Try to guess," you challenged him.
♤♡♧◇
"You fucked my sister?!" Niragi shouted louder than ever before. Chishiya jumped back when he saw Niragi storming towards him, pointing his rifle towards Chishiya.
"Well, to my defense, she came to me," he said, lifting his hands up to surrender and trying to ignore the rifle, inches from his face.
"Out of all the girls here, dozens of them, you just had to choose her?!"
"Niragi, we're-"
Niragi put his gun down and instead grabbed Chishiya by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Chishiya winced a little when the back of his head hit hard on the wall but otherwise he kept his regular pokerface.
"What should i do with you now, hm?" Niragi asked. "Shoot you dead right here right now or take a knife and carve little marks on your skin before shooting you. Any last wishes?"
He took a knife from his pocket, pressing the tip against Chishiya's cheek, a little too close to his left eye.
"Did you want to get a revenge on me? I thought we were buddies, man."
"Listen," Chishiya chuckled nervously in Niragi's tight grip. "Just let me down and we'll-"
"I know she's pretty, obviously, it's in our genes," Niragi interrupted, not caring to listen to Chishiya's defense. "But atleast talk about it before to me, man. Don't just go and screw her like that."
"So, if i had asked you for your blessing to sleep with your sister, you would have been okay with that?"
The anger rose back to Niragi's eyes. Chishiya was basically throwing more fuel into the fire flaming inside Niragi.
"Niragi, what are you doing?" you shouted from the end of the hallway before Niragi would be able go put a bullet in Chishiya's skull, walking towards the two guys with long steps. "Let go of him this instant."
"Or what?" Niragi asked. "You'll stab me over this guy?"
"If i have to," you said and crossed your arms against your chest.
"You can't be serious-"
You pulled a knife from your boot and pointed it at him.
"Let. Him. Down." You gritted your teeth, the same kind of anger in your eyes as in Niragi's. "Or you'll lose an ear."
Niragi huffed and let Chishiya go, coming towards you.
"Seriously, Y/N?" he whispered to you. "Him?"
"Mind your own damn business," you spat.
Eventually, Niragi left, but he wasn't in a good mood. At all. You hadn't seen him that angry in a while. You didn't lash out at him like that because he was threatening specifically Chishiya, no. You were just tired of Niragi constantly meddling into your business with men over and over again. Whenever you'd have a single hickey on your neck, and Niragi saw that, he'd immediately lose his temper for someone touching you - as witnessed here. It had been the exact same back at home before ending up to this world, but back then he only had his fists and not a gun. You had tried to make him quit it so many times but he wasn't having it.
You let out a frustrated groan, and Chishiya walked towards you now that Niragi had disappeared.
"So, you always carry knives with you wherever you go?" Chishiya asked, hands in the pockets of his white hoodie and an amused smirk on his face. "That's why you wear boots even with a swimsuit?"
"Shouldn't everyone carry a weapon with them?" you asked seriously, raising an eyebrow. "You never know when you need to defend yourself."
"Fair," Chishiya admitted.
You stepped right in front of Chishiya and put your hand behind his neck, slowly caressing his shoulder.
"Want to have a round two in my room tonight?" you asked, clicking your tongue.
"I'm not sure if i want to lose my right eye for that," Chishiya smirked, still feeling the cold blade against his cheek.
"Niragi's not the boss of me," you said and rolled your eyes. "I'm not some little kid that needs to be protected."
"Oh i can definitely see that," Chishiya agreed and nodded.
"So, my room tonight." You put your finger on hips lips. "Don't make me wait too long, hm?"
♤♡♧◇
The fire was flaming high outside, waiting for corpses to be thrown in there.
When the 10 of Hearts game started and Aguni's men were slaughtering people left and right, you only sat back and watched the shitshow. You knew Niragi would never allow anyone to touch you so you weren't afraid of being accused of being the witch and getting thrown into the fire.
That was, as long as he was there to witness it, and right now he wasn't. Still, you didn't stress about the game nearly as much as the others there.
You had no idea what Chishiya and others were doing, but right now you really, really just craved for a snack and was heading towards your room.
However, before you managed to get any further, someone grabbed you by your hair and yanked you towards them, causing you to let out a small cry for the pain on your scalp.
"Ha! Maybe she's the witch!" a man, who you didn't know at all, shouted at your face, spit flying on your cheekbone. "Let's burn her!"
One more guy joined him to drag you towards the place where the fire was located. But they weren't able to get very far.
You managed to get free yourself from their grip, then reached for your boots and took the two knives out of them. You didn't hesitate a moment longer as you threw the knives towards the two men, the blades digging deep into the men's necks.
You had practiced throwing knives for the past decade - as a nice little hobby of yours.
The men fell on their knees, and you kicked them on their chest, causing them to fall on their backs. You leaned down to remove the knives from their throats, leaving them to bleed out on the carpet. You wiped the blood on the men's shirts, then putting the knives back into your boots and continued your way towards you room.
As you walked through the corridor, you didn't notice two pairs of eyes watching you behind a corner.
"Well, i sure wouldn't want to anger her," Kuina mumbled. She was in shock how such a small girl was able to take down two grown men at that speed.
"She managed to surprise me too," Chishiya admitted, arms crossed on his chest. And very few people did surprise him anymore, both Kuina and Chishiya himself knew that. "Although, she's related to Niragi, so i don't know if i should have been surprised."
♤♡♧◇
A little later, you were leaning against one of the pillars on the 3rd floor, watching Aguni beat up Arisu with all his strength. You felt another presence join you, but you didn't need to turn your head to see who it was.
"Enjoying the show?" Chishiya asked.
"It's like watching a violent theatre play with real blood."
"Mhm," Chishiya hummed. "Hearts games are brutal but this is definitely something else."
"It's kind of entertaining how insane people can go during the Hearts games," you commented and turned your head towards Chishiya. "Did you ever suspect me as the witch?"
Chishiya eyed you for a moment.
"You could have pulled it off," he admitted. "With those knives and all."
"Aw, i'm touched," you smiled, hand on your chest. "If i was proven to be the witch, would you have been able to burn me in the fire?"
"Well," Chishiya started slowly and turned his face back to the crowd downstairs. "Everyone just wants to survive and get out of here, right?"
You didn't say anything back, only followed the events happening two floors down.
After everything had finally started to calm down, the fire suddenly spread and Niragi stepped inside, looking like he had been thrown into the fire too but got out before turning into complete ash.
"Oh, shit," you mumbled.
Niragi started to shoot in every direction possible with his rifle, not caring who he hit with the bullets. He wanted everyone here to die, that was for sure. He shot not only vertically everywhere, also up in different angles.
That meant, also right into your direction. Chishiya pulled you back, but just a second too late. You felt burning pain on your right shoulder and right after your leg, blood starting to pour out of the wounds. You stumbled backwards, but Chishiya managed to catch you and held you up by your waist.
His eyes widened when he saw your shoulder being painted red, as well as your leg.
"This just isn't my day, is it?" you chuckled, trying to ignore the pain radiating through your arm and make fun of the situation.
Chishiya didn't have much time to start patching you up right now, you had to leave this place as soon as possible to get to safety.
"Wait a moment, i'll be right back," he said and left you there on your own for a moment, running to the room where you had previously been. For a minute you were afraid he had actually left you here to bleed out, not wanting to deal with your injuries.
Chishiya grabbed a first aid kid, towel and brought them with him as he hurried back to you as fast as he was possibly able to run.
"Hold these," he said and gave you the kit and the towel, then scooping you in his arms. He knew he couldn't run very fast carrying you, but it would be faster than dragging you by his side.
It didn't take too long for people to burn the witch and finish the game just before the time would run down to zero. You had finally passed the last game.
As you sat outside and watched the mansion burn down among all the other survivors, Chishiya was by your side sewing the bullet wound shut with a needle and thread. The bullet had exited your body on the back, so Chishiya was more than thankful that he wouldn't need to start operating on you any deeper.
You had started to look pale and feel dizzy for all the blood loss, but you managed to stay conscious. He had wrapped the towel tightly around your leg. It had been white, but was now dyed half red.
"Shiya..." you mumbled, but he didn't lift his face towards you, only concentrated on stitching you up. "I promise i'm not getting hurt on purpose just to get you to touch me."
Your words did amuse Chishiya and you could see a slight smirk on his face.
"Good, because i don't have any more supplies to left to treat your wounds," Chishiya said and cut the thread off, leaving you with clean stitches on your skin. He finally looked into your eyes, looking serious and worried. "Let me know immediately if the stitches open and you start bleeding again, got it?"
"Are you like a doctor or something?" you smiled and bit your lip.
"Something like that," he answered, and you could see a little smile on his lips as well.
"I've never slept with a doctor before," you admitted. "Before the Beach, i mean."
"Was it on your to-do list?"
"Might have been," you said. "Along with a firefighter, of course."
"Too bad we didn't have firefighters at the Beach," Chishiya concluded. "Would have saved us a lot of trouble. Or if there was, they clearly failed their job miserably."
"Perhaps," you said slowly. "I would have still chosen a doctor first though."
"Hm, really?" Chishiya wondered. "Good to know. So, your type is men who can save you from trouble?"
"I'm not a damsel in distress," you scoffed, coming off as offended and a bit too defensive.
"And still i did have to carry you out of there," Chishiya pointed out.
"Shut up," you said and gently hit him on his shoulder.
"You'll promise to take it slow with your arm and leg, okay?" he stated seriously.
"Of course, doctor," you teased and bit your lip. "How can i ever repay you for taking such a good care of me?"
"I have a few things in my mind, but i think we should go somewhere private first," Chishiya reminded and sat next to you, putting his hand around your waist for a moment.
"Why aren't we already leaving then?" you asked and brushed your finger against his collarbone, right by the zipper of his hoodie.
"Tempting, but i'd rather have you rest for a moment," Chishiya said and pulled you tighter against his body, whispering right into your ear: "But don't worry, i'll make sure to find us some time alone."
His hot breath against your ear sent chills down your spine.
♤♡♧◇
A/N: I'll have update for the Child of Hearts too at some point no worries, just have to figure out some scenes for it and shape it a lil bit 🫶🏻
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redwinelew · 19 hours ago
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SAVE YOUR TEARS | LEWIS HAMILTON
type written fic (one shot)
pairing lewis hamilton x driver!reader
summary you need a distraction and your teammate is the perfect person for that
word count 3.7k
warnings 18+. smut. nsfw. porn with oh so little plot and even little feelings. unprotected sex. rough sex. emotional sex. prone bone then missionary (idk i tried), praise kink. hints of depression, self doubts etc etc idk lmk what i missed. english is not my first language.
author's note self-indulgent if u couldn't tell from the warnings. that's it. sorry.
masterlist
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lewis didn't expect you to turn up in front of his hotel room tonight night, face wet with tears staining your cheeks, lips trembling as you held back a sob.
nor was he expecting you to ever utter these words to him.
"i need you to fuck me."
lewis' lips parted, unable to get any words out, too shocked by your sudden request. he has a million different questions appearing in his brain all at once. what the hell is happening? why are you crying? who did this to you? and why on god's green earth did you just ask him to— he couldn't even repeat it to himself. it didn't feel real, didn't even sound like you were asking. pleading, more like it, in pure desperation.
he calls your name softly, like he's trying to wake you up from a dream. his thick eyebrows tie together in confusion. "what are you—"
"please...." you cut him off, the last syllable getting more inaudible as it trails away. tears beginning to fill up your eyes again before they drop, reaching your jaw and fall to the floor.
lewis has never seen you like this, and he's pretty sure nobody else on the grid or the public did either. his teammate whom in his eyes, the one who always got her shit together. he's almost jealous at how composed you always presented yourself to be, on and off track, never letting any unwanted criticisms by fans or media from getting to you, always quick to shut them down cleverly. the last person anybody could ever take down, mentally.
then he realized, that he held you to such a high standard to the point where he had forgotten that you were still just a human. it's only a matter of time before you break and if lewis personally had his moments where he was at his lowest, he couldn't imagine being in your shoes right now.
everything immediately clicked for lewis right there and then. he had never invited a girl inside so fast, never undressed her so quickly.
"what's your safe word?" he asks, needing to know before he proceeds.
"pancake."
lewis nods. he was about to crash his lips against yours when you put your hand on his clothed chest to stop him firmly, almost clenching your hand on his shirt, head turn away slightly.
"no," you refused.
kissing means this would get personal. complicated. and you do not want complications in the future. this is not going to be a love-making session. this is going to be lewis fucking you hard until your eyes roll back and your vision turns white. until the thickness of his cock makes your hollow soul lights up again. until you feel alive from his hand around your throat.
nothing else.
and that's exactly what he's doing right now. no kissing. he immediately understood it from the minute you refused his lips, getting what this is going to be.
lewis' tattooed hand fists on your shirt hard as he avoids your lips and kisses your neck instead, finding those spots that make your knees buckle and focuses particularly on there. you remove his hair tie, and tangle your fingers with his braids. he groans, his hair a particular sensitive part on his body. his thick lips travel lower to lay kisses along your collarbone. no marks either, he doesn't need to be told that.
though for some reason he does not understand, it is suddenly quite hard to resist himself from leaving purple bites on your skin. not when he had someone like you in his arms whom he had found beautiful since the first time his eyes laid in you.
no, lewis tells himself silently. this is not about you. this is about her. she's struggling. there's a demon that she needs to defeat and she needs your help. so help her.
you find yourself walking in reverse as he advances towards you, before your back hits the soft mattress of his hotel bed.
"yes." you say, already breathless, letting him know this is exactly how you want it. no tip-toeing, no hesitation or being overly careful, because you trust him enough to know that he knows what he should and shouldn't do, or you wouldn't have knocked in his door. you might be mentally fragile, but not your body. you need him to get to work quickly, to get you out of the mess that is currently your mind right now. he doesn't need to be gentle, because all you desire is the exact opposite.
lewis does not respond. instead he takes off your shirt and bra, throwing them somewhere on his floor without caring where they land. you do the same with his. lewis climbs over you, leaving neither of you time to admire one another's half naked bodies. nothing to gawk over. this is not what you came here for and lewis was quick to understand that.
his lips were fast to attack your bare chest next. his tongue swirls over your nipple, coating it with his spit before sucking hard, creating sounds as lewd as your moans right now. he also groans silently, the vibration sending more waves of pleasure inside you. he lets you gather his braids to press his face harder on your breast while one of his hands went to grope on the other, flicking your already sensitive nipple before giving it the same attention with his tongue. your back arches, and you find yourself pressing both your thighs together, desperate for relief on your lower half.
he senses it and leaves your chest. he pulls down your pants next, then your panties. you catch the way he visibly swallows at the sight of your dripping pussy, his own cock starting to throb in need.
"tell me what you need," he asks breathlessly, his voice huskier than usual, making your walls clench around nothing.
"your fingers." you answer without hesitation. the rational part of your brain manages to slip through, making you wonder for a split second just what made you so bold tonight, demanding all sort of things you never even had the courage to ask anybody.
maybe it's demons in your head, the one you are desperate to get rid off so you are forcing yourself to do the absolute craziest, just to feel like your old self again.
lewis nods. part of him is still in disbelief over what is currently happening but he tries to leave it at the back of his head. you let him spread your legs with ease and he doesn't waste any time to slide his digit smoothly over your fold to gather your arousal, earning a sharp gasp from you. he spits on your cunt, his saliva mixes with your wetness before he pushes.
still he was careful, only using one finger for now. he's well aware of the thickness of his digits and not sure how much you can take if he immediately adds more.
"m-more." you're whimpering already and the sound goes straight to lewis' dick, forcing him to take a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to calm his twitching cock.
but it's difficult. this is lewis hamilton, seven times formula 1 world champion. the greatest of all time. admire by billions. and yet when he has a pretty girl like you underneath him, at his mercy, your beautiful cunt clenching hard around his fingers, suddenly lewis is just a normal man. one who is not sure how much longer he can hold himself from claiming you all for himself.
lewis takes a deep breath. this is not about you, he tells himself again. you need to listen to her. give her what she needs. you can get any girl to come to your hotel room for fucking, and yet she only has you, the only man she clearly feels safe enough to ask of this.
"faster." you ask and lewis starts to deliver, pushing your legs apart even further before his hand picking up its pace, until the only sounds in the room are your ragged moans and the slickness of your cunt.
you are gorgeous. absolutely breathtaking, lewis thinks to himself. the way your face is flushed, sweat staining all over your face and neck. how your figure, hypnotizing as if it was blessed by aphrodite herself writhe underneath him, chasing that high. sinful moans and whimpers from your lips, enchanting his ears, making him curl his fingers until they find that one spot inside that makes you only whine louder, addicted into finding even more ways to earn those sounds from you. your legs part even wider as if not getting enough, silently begging for more than just his fingers.
"fuck...." lewis cannot help but groan. he sees the way your breath is getting shorter, more ragged. following his own impulses, lewis stops, withdrawing his hand from you.
you whine shamelessly at the sudden emptiness. you look up, watching lewis licking your arousal clean from his lips. the sight should be dirty, should make your pussy pulses in lust but instead your brain is protesting, head thrown back on the mattress in frustration. no, no, no, no, the brain says. you were far from reaching your peak since lewis had just started fingering you but you were at bliss at how preoccupied your mind was, having no room to think about anyting but his fingers inside you.
the insecurities starting to come back. the demon has gone back to work, playing in your ears and whispering doubts into you again.
maybe lewis is regretting this. he thinks you're sick in the head and he wants you to leave. he's going to tell the team—
"you're gonna come on my cock only."
oh—
oh.
you don't have time to be dumbfounded when lewis gets off the bed to remove his pants, eyes stay on yours. a hiss leaves his lips as he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his rock hard cock that already leaks with pre-cum while keeping his lustful gaze on you the entire time before he gets back to the bed to you.
your mouth almost waters at the visual. yes, you came to his hotel room, crying, begging him to fuck you. and yet it's unbelievable to see lewis like this. the champion, feared by the rest of the grid, respected by the whole wide world, is currently hard and throbbing in front of you. for you.
your cunt is wet again, pulsing around air thinking about just how he'd fit himself inside you but before you could do anything, he flips you flat onto your stomach. you yelp, caught off-guard by his sudden action. the mattress dips as his knees sink into it on either side of your body. he grabs his pillow before shoving it under your belly.
condom is on and when you feel his tip pressing against your entrance, you gasp silently, already gripping the sheets.
"we can stop if you want." he says, lowering his voice down to a softer tone, giving you a way out. he's willing to ignore the way his dick twitches, begging to be taken care of, if you desire to stop. but instead....
"n-no." you shake your head fast, voice shaky but with a hint of firmness behind it. "no, i don't want to stop. please."
"what do you need then? tell me exactly."
"i don't want to think. please, just— use me. i don't care. don't be gentle. i want it hard. i need it rough."
part of lewis regrets that he asked because holy fucking shit. sweet baby jesus. he doesn't recognize the sound that he makes, deep from his chest, filled with lust after hearing your dirty, desperate request.
on one hand, he's more than happy to fulfill your desire, knowing this is just going to be sex and nothing more. it's easier for the both of you in the future, knowing that this is a one time thing and absolutely no feelings would be involved.
but on the other hand, though lewis presents himself to the public and media as the calm and collected person you'd see on TV, but like every other man, he has his own wants and needs as well. and you have absolutely fucking idea what the hell you had just woken up inside him.
"fuck. fuck, you can't just fucking say that. you're fucking killing me, baby girl."
you moan at the nickname, then the volume becomes louder when you feel him pushing himself inside you slowly, one palm on a side of your head while the other is gripping your hip so fucking hard no doubt it'll bruised tomorrow.
you want it to bruise. and you know what you just asked of him. it's nothing like you had ever asked of a man before. to take you like a ragdoll for him to be used, to be toyed with whenever his please. to use you like you exist only and solely for his pleasure. because the thoughts that you are having about yourself are way worse. you want it to bruise, to hurt. you want to still be able to feel him for days. to have difficulties to walk so you will always be reminded of tonight. because at least your mind will be distracted from wandering to places you have been working so hard to avoid again.
lewis slides in easily but the stretch burns. you whine, fingers gripping the bedsheet tightly as you try to breathe properly in order to relax yourself so you can accommodate to his size, which is bigger than anyone you had ever taken. what he lacks in height, he certainly makes up for it in his length.
when he's fully inside, lewis gathers your hair before yanking it hard, making your neck arches back and you cry out. the pain in your scalp is weirdly delicious, combines with how he's making you feel so full having his dick deep inside, unmoving.
"say thank you." lewis demands, his tone no longer kind amd gentle like before, goosebumps prickle all over your skin. you never heard him using that kind of tone during work, never even imagine that he'd be the type to sound like that in bed. "thank me for fucking you."
"t-thank you."
"louder." he bottoms out before slamming into you hard, pulling a loud gasp from you.
"thank you!" you choke out.
lewis starts out slow at first, looking for the right pace. he remembers how you want it but he's not going to give it right away, out of care and of course pettiness.
but as he continues, he couldn't help but craving to hear more of those sweet bits of noises that you keep making. to hear the way your breath hitches at how he's filling you up to the brim, at how good he's fucking you.
lewis lowers his body, caging your body from behind but still careful not to crush you completely with his weight as his pace increases, ramming his cock inside you, his restraint getting thinner.
"take it. you want me to fuck you so bad? fucking take it. you asked for this." he grunts, and you whimper with no shame left in you. it's difficult to care, not when you could feel yourself getting dumber on his dick, which is exactly what you were asking for. and all this couldn't be more perfect.
lewis' movements grow harder, rougher by the minute. your moans mixed with his and the sound of his hips snapping against your ass echoes to the entire room. you wish you could be quiet, knowing that this whole hotel is rented by your entire team. but the way lewis is fucking you is making you do the exact opposite. you know he wouldn't want you to be quiet either, the mechanics be damned.
it's starting to be too much. nails digging into the bedsheet, you find your body inching forward. you are not sure if you are trying to run away or get closer to him but when lewis notices this, he grabs both your wrists, pinning them above your head. his teeth nibbles against a specific spot under your earlobe, pulling another whine out of you.
"you can take it. fuck— good girls take what they asked for. you can do it."
your cunt somehow gets even wetter with his filthy words, at how his accent thickens, voice gets deeper and more hoarse. your pussy shouldn't be squeezing around his dick at his praises, but it did. and the grunts he lets out making it all worth it.
when he hits that sweet spot inside you that no other man has ever quite managed to find, your eyes roll back in ecstasy. you gasp, tears starting to fall again at the sweet pleasure you're experiencing.
the sex is perfect, you know lewis wouldn't disappoint. but your demon is back, suddenly haunting you and making you feel terrible about yourself again.
"what the hell do you think you're doing? oh, that's right. you wasn't. you aren't. you're just a dumb bitch making herself even dumber on this pathetic cock. if only you could see yourself. absolutely shameless. what a whore. begging for this man to fuck you like you never seen a dick before. nothing will ever be the same ever again. he will never look you in the eyes, he'll think of you differently. why didn't you just—"
lewis suddenly stops.
the voices do too, and you are left in confusion. his grip on your wrist is gone now and you didn't even notice. you turn your head, only to see him pulling out.
no. oh, no. no, no, no. the voices were right. he's pulling away. he's regretting this. he's gonna ask you to leave, isn't he?
"can i turn you on your back?" he asks instead.
silence from you for a few seconds before you let out a quiet "what?" before lying on your back on your own. you remove the pillow from under your belly and set it aside.
"you were crying." he points out, brows furrowing as a shadow of concern illuminating his handsome face.
you swallow. you were hoping he wouldn't notice and even if he did, he'd thought that it was because you were enjoying yourself this. the fact that he knows it was the opposite tells you that he knows there are million different things running in your mind right now and you hate it.
"y-yeah but it wasn't— not because of you."
pause. "you want me to slow down?"
again, you shake your head fast.
"i'm okay. please." you hate how quickly you beg for him again.
it's lewis' turn to swallow, his eyes darken slightly at your pleading. he nods before crawling back to you, determined to pick up where he left off, trusting that you will know what to say if you truly desire for him to stop completely.
he grabs one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist before bringing the other to his shoulder. you bite your lip at the way his gaze never wavers from you, making you wonder if he fucks every other girls like this.
no. fuck. stop it. why do you even care?
lewis takes his dick before burying himself inside you once more slightly easier this time. you can't help but moan and thanking him again.
he is slow again at first but it isn't long before his cock slams back at the perfect pace, the sound of skin against skin once again filling up this suite. your whimper mixed with his hisses when you claw on his tattooed back, pulling him closer.
lewis leaves kisses all over your leg, wherever he could reach before his hand sneaks up to fiddle and squeeze your bouncing tits.
you didn't expect him to wipe your tears next.
your eyes locked with his. he continues fucking you but it feels as if time has stopped. he has that look behind the lust that screams sympathy. pity. you hate it but at the same you don't push his hand away, letting him cup your face momentarily. but even lewis doesn't let this gesture happens for too long, always remembering the point of having you underneath him.
it doesn't take long until you feel an invisible knot in your lower belly. you're panting now, almost reaching your peak. lewis realizes this and he fucks you harder, his hand travels down to rub your clit.
"i'm—"
"i know, sweetie," he says, breathless as well. he lowers his body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and kissing it all over as he feels his own orgasm nearing. "come for me."
a few more thrusts, and you see white. your mouth is agape as you moan silently. his grunt and groans is music to your ears as he spills himself inside the condom.
silence.
lewis never realized how much he needed this as well. not just the sex, but the connection, which he knows is insane to find with someone like you in circumstances like this but what just happened felt different. to be so close with someone he actually knows and not just another girl he calls to his room, not even bother to learn her name.
before he could gather his breath, he feels your body underneath him slipping out. his eyes feels heavy but he tries to hold on, watching you collecting your clothes and dressing back up.
"what are you—"
"that was really great. thank you." was all you said before you left, in a hurry like you refuse to spend another minute in the same room with lewis.
while the man is still on the bed, naked. he hasn't even removed his condom yet. a sigh escapes his lips, lying flat on the bed before staring at the white ceiling.
he did what you asked for, and he could only hope that you would feel better tomorrow morning.
and yet why does his heart suddenly aches, not having you in his arms anymore?
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azurem · 1 day ago
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IM SORRY. IF SOMBD ALREADYY ASKED ABT IT buuuuut what's your take on inkmare first kiss or confession??? Chaos chaos, evil chaos
Uhhh. i do not remember well to be honest. I remember asking how the first kiss would be, however!
My take on the confession is that it was the one that happened first, when the relationship still was somewhat unilateral. Nightmare realized he had somewhat of a crush, and, assuming it was something about possessiveness (aka he thought it was a childish whim he wanted to quell), quickly proceeded to action. Like. Second truce done, friendship established and he didn't take long to confess.
I assume it was a mix of you-do-this-to-me + a try-to-sell-something-to-you kind of talk? Like. He wasn't quite sure if Ink reciprocated (which was kinda the situation) so he was sure to market himself and his question like something beneficial (though he was still kinda grumpy with it cuz he also has the unconscious thought that the crush existing™ was an act done against him. Like, the thought that this was Ink's fault and that he had to take at least some responsability about it)
I imagine it was quite attractive (of an offer). And Ink did find it entertaining enough he accepted. I imagine it happened when they were in one of their recreational meetings (aka probs reading inside nm's library or inside a geno au) likeeee
"...I've made a mistake," Nightmare said. Ink looked up at him from his place, sitting cross legged on the floor. They placed the book down. "This— a horrible mistake."
Ink just stared at him. The question marks of their eyes made him die a bit. They smiled at him. "C'mon, you're a confessed torturer. Can't be that serious."
But it was. He briefly considered sitting down, just to see them eye to eye, but Ink was already up and coming closer. The motion resulted on their elbows resting on his desk, their torso leaning forward.
"Hmmm?"
He really should have planned a better scenery for this kind of thing. Still, he couldn't let himself be intimidated, much less so when Ink was being so brave about it. "You're cruel."
This was not the response they expected. Nightmare saw him get their arms back to their sides, their back straightening. Ink's lost face stared back at him, their eyes wider than usual.
"You—" he couldn't help the way his hand shielded his mouth for a moment, as if he couldn't figure out the reason why his voice was acting. "You're— all I think about, now."
He had to fight against the instinctual need to hide himself like a child. It was sickening. He had vowed to himself to never let himself feel this small. And yet.
"You plague my mind," Nightmare said —as his hand went down from his mouth, it landed on his chest, squeezing the fabric with the need to touch— "since when, I don't know."
Ink's breath hitched with realization, flustered like one who'd suddenly find their seed peeking out from the ground in leaves. Oh. Oh!
"I don't know how," Nightmare continued, something like bitterness on his tongue before it cleared to something warmer. "But you've— you've enthralled me. I want you. As such, I need you."
"...huh."
"If you want me to beg—" Nightmare took a moment. Whatever he was about to say died in his mouth. "All I need now is a promise. An attempt. Anything."
"This is— hm. This— y'know—" Ink fidgeted with his hands, surprised when he found his cheeks warm. It was a sickening, horrible feeling. It tasted purple in his mouth, it tasted pink. The same feeling willed him to cover his mouth with both hands, unwilling to let it out on the floor.
When Nightmare looked at him cover himself as if he had something to hide, Ink felt something new. A new type of fear he never knew before. Why?
"...Of course," Nightmare said after a moment. He had never seen Ink turn those colors before. He wondered if this view would become familiar to him. "This means that if you accept, I'll make sure you're taken care of."
Ink looked at him with a type of confusion so sharp it was almost disgusted. "...Huh?"
"A truce between lovers would be quite a solid thing, don't you believe?" He said dryly, his fingers twitching with the dread of someone who hasn't been told yes. "Whatever you need, I'll acquire it for you. Whatever you want, you'll have. But you'll give yourself to me."
"But not the AUs," Ink said after a moment. He couldn't distinguish the emotion in his own voice as he put his hands down. "You wouldn't stop your show just to have me, won't you?"
"I'm afraid not," Nightmare said. His eye looked down on them. He couldn't help but smile bitterly. "Of course not. You'll make no slave out of me."
"...You're funny," Ink murmured. "I like you. You're— you're intriguing, dynamic. I'd like to know where your character arc is going. I like your color palette."
"...Is that a yes?"
Ink sighed. (It was a yes.)
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kesadoll · 8 hours ago
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♡ CWS MDNI 3.3k ♡ black!femreader, ex-athlete/mechanic!nanami little bit of an age gap {r: 19~20 || n: 25}, fondling, oral {f}, overstimulation, missionary, unprotected but his pull-out game strong, he’s a disrespectful gentleman & such a pleasure dom ♡, {petnames: baby, good girl, darlin' || she calls him ♡ kento/‘ento ♡}
♡ sum. geto's gone ghost, & your car needs some fixing up so you can start racing.... pt.1 ♡
kesa's note idk i need that BAD i think you can def read this without reading pt.1, but still go give it some love! thts where a lot of context is, but if u just here for daddymi I don't blame u babe♡ also here's what i imagine nanami with his lil accent sounding like asks & reblogs always welcome!
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it had been a couple of months since you and geto had your little night together. just like you hoped it wouldn’t, it definitely turned out to be a one time thing. yuji and geto had a falling out over him finding out geto had been hanging out around sukuna, and that was that. no text message, no calls, not even a “let me show up at your house cause i see your brother’s car is gone.” you felt used and embarrassed to say the least, but the only person who knew anything of it was nobara, who told you there had to be a reason why, though she didnt think it was right herself. you tried not to think too much of it, still going with your brother to races, occasionally seeing geto who always tried to avoid eye contact with you. bitch.
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it was a regular friday for you: wake up, go to class, go to your nail appointment if you had one (you did, opting for pink medium-length square nails), go to your hair appointment also if you needed it (this time you just got a wash and trim, letting your hair breathe), and running some other errands that depended on how much money you had in your pocket for that month. you wore your usual outfit for these types of days, a grey 2-piece set with a pink shirt underneath.
yuji, got you an early birthday present about a week back, and it was a car! now whether or not he did it to flex on geto and sukuna, you didn't know, but you were forever grateful regardless. the car was white and sleek on the outside, the inside pretty much being all back. the car coincidentally was a sports car as well, nobara pushing you to race with her even more. since you decided to promise her you’d race next weekend, you figured you should probably take the car to nanami so he can dope up your car like he’s done with pretty much everyone in your friend group.
you finally pulled into the driveway of nanami’s shop, watching as he began pulling a loop of chains that made the large garage door open. he kept them open until you pulled in, closing it once you were lined up with the car lift.
“nanamiii~” you said as you got out of the car, blinking a couple of times when he turned on the bright fluorescent lights. you watched intently as nanami looked over your car, making sure the tires were buckled before he elevated it enough so he could look under the hood of your car, no problem.
“hey miss y/n,” he spoke quite calmly, his sleepy southern drawl pulling at your heartstrings. this only highlighted the bags that you could see under his eyes, making you frown once you saw he still had a little bit of a limp from his old injury. 
nanami used to be a pretty damn good baseball player. from the ripe age of seven, he’d always had a passion for it. he got so good that by his sophomore and junior years of high school, he had colleges lining up waiting for him to commit to one of them. nanami had initially gone out of state to his home college down south, but during the last game of the season (which so happened to be a championship game), he tore his ACL and MCL, essentially meaning that he’d never run like he used to ever again. it was heartbreaking for everyone; even the enemy team felt bad for him, but it was even worse for nanami himself, vowing to never touch a baseball (or bat) ever again. 
he kept that promise, busying himself working on cars day and night. if he wasn’t working, he’d be at a bar, drinking and watching the games they’d throw up on the tv there. you knew how much it affected him, even 3 years later. “kento, if you’re hurting, i can reschedule; you know we’re all still worried about you.” you said gently as if to not set off a bomb. 
nanami shook his head, offering you the happiest-looking smile that he could muster, which really wasn't much. “i’m okay, y’know that y/n.” he unzipped his coveralls, letting them hang around his waist. you knew he liked to work like this, but it took your breath every time you saw him like this; his white wife beater perfectly hugged his soft muscles, his little silver chain with a baseball bat pendant decorating his broad chest, tattoos sprinkled across his body. 
“mhmm..well you let me know when you’re under the hood, m’kay? i wanna learn a thing or two so you can rest sometime,” you said as you turned, waving off his protests as you went into his office, sitting behind a desk with papers all over them.
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you busied yourself scrolling on your phone, not realizing how much time passed until nanami walked in. “y’okay? i called for ya a lil’ while ago,” 
“oh! i’m sorry i got distracted.” you sat your phone down and got up, making your way outside.
“you still don’t have t’help, if i was really hurt you’d know.” he tried reassuring you again, following behind you and fixing his black gloves.
“mhmm, sure.” 
nanami led you over to the front of your car, popping the hood open and propping it up. he had you standing off to the side, handing him tools or dragging a box of parts over (of course he wouldn’t ask you if it was heavy, opting to go get it himself). he didn’t let you do much of the touching on the inside, especially not when you had your pretty nails and clothes on, the southern hospitality in him wasn’t going to let a pretty girl like you dirty yourself doing a man’s work. he already felt a certain kind of guilt watching you walk away from him, especially with how good your hips and ass looked in those pants of yours.
the two of you talked about plenty of things, though it was mostly nanami just listening to you go on and on about things he never thought would concern him before. shockingly, you even got him to open up about his little hometown that, from your understanding, was in the middle of nowhere. nothing was left undiscussed, even the situation with geto though you didn’t go into too much detail out of your own embarrassment. nanami seemed particularly disgruntled after you told him what geto did, so you thought changing the subject would be for the better.
despite not letting you do much of anything, he still made you feel like you were important. he explained to you what certain parts did and why he was modifying them for racing, and you tried to listen, you really did, but some too many thingamabobs and doohickeys did a lot of things for you to even remember their names. the only thing you really could focus on was that sweet accent of his, and the way his biceps flexed no matter what he did. you noticed the sweat in nanami’s hair, the way it made his buff arms shine, his wife-beater sticking to his body. “wanna take a break?” you asked sweetly, not wanting him to overwork himself, especially for your own sake.
“hm?” he looked up, resting his forearms on the car. “yeah, let me finish tightenin’ this n’ i’ll come sit down.”
you hummed, going back into the office, and washing your hands in the little kitchen area before grabbing yourself a water, nanami came in and took his work gloves off so he could wash his hands as well. he dried his hands on a white towel he had laying on one of the counters.
“here,” you gave nanami the water you had in your hand, making sure he had taken a sip before you bent back down in the fridge to grab another. what nanami didn't account for were your pants being kinda low waisted, so when you bent over he got a VIEWW of your lower back including those back dermals you’d gotten not too long ago.
he shook his head at those nasty thoughts that ran through his head, leaning against the counter with the water bottle already half empty by the time you turned around. “you uh, finally gon’ race?”
you nodded, tilting your head up at him, “mmm, yeah. i promised nobara i’d go to the next one, but i still don’t know. i just don’t wanna see geto you know?”
“if he shows up, he shows up. you have a bunch of people around you who want to see you race, not him.” he tossed the towel over his shower, taking another couple of chugs of his water. he closed his eyes, his pretty blonde lashes twitching ever so slightly with every swallow. 
“yeah?..” he was beautifully exhausted if it wasn’t already clear before. his sharp jaw was complemented by a growing 5’oclock shadow, something about it ignited something in you. who knew a sweaty, hardworking man would have you gawking like this, and reasonably so.
“always. all of us are excited for you, not just nobara,” he finally pulled his lips from his water bottle, his eyes now trained onto you. he caught you staring at him most definitely, a certain kind of smirk pulling at his lips that made your stomach flutter, “you can’t go lookin’ at me like that.”
“what? am i not supposed to look at someone when they’re talking to me?” you rolled your eyes playfully, looking away as to hide your smile, though it didn’t do much. 
“no no no, that’s not what that was and you know it.” nanami’s laugh was low, his large hand finding solace on your waist. “look at me.”
you shifted your weight subconsciously to minimize his touch, not because you didn’t like it, but the warmth of his hands sent sparks through your body. you crossed your arms to try and put on a tough front, lifting your eyes to meet his, “hm?”
he looked at you through low lids, those hazel eyes of his twinkling ever so slightly between his lashes. he just took a good look at you, jaw clenching while his eyes flipped between each one of yours then down at your lips..he licked his bottom lip to bring himself out of whatever trance your face put him in, “you’re jus’ really pretty n’ i can tell you got all done up before you got here, i jus’ d’know if i can keep bein’ a gentleman with you lookin’ at me like that.” 
you leaned just the teeniest bit closer to him. the way his pretty teeth shined, his canine so sharp you wondered how it felt against your neck. “well maybe that’s just what i need.” 
“y’not ready for that,” nanami’s eyebrow raised, thinking. he slowly stepped back from you then made his way around the room closing every blind and locking every door as you watched. once done, he stood back in front of you, those butterflies in your stomach stirring, “n’ i can prove it.”
 “so prove it.”
nanami’s lips met yours with haste. he lifted you like it was nothing, all of those years with baseball and cars not going to waste (bars?). whatever was on the counter he knocked off before his hands moved from your ass to your thighs, wrapping them around him. 
the way he kissed you was akin to a starving animal getting its first meal in a while, but his lips were so soft, he tasted so good, and the way his tongue twirled against yours?? it was something you’d experienced before, but not this good. you brought your hand up to his golden locks, one of his hands placed at your lower back to pull you closer to him. it wasn’t until he brought his other hand up to the back of your neck that you moaned, his lips pulling from yours with that smile of his, kissing down your neck. “so it’s here..” he said in between kisses. 
“kento..” your head fell right on back, giving him the answer he already knew. his lips and tongue twirled and danced against your flesh, the squeezing of your thighs around his waist only confirming his suspicions even more. 
he hummed in response to you, looking up once he finally pulled his mouth away, unzipping your jacket, “i hear you,” he pushed up your shirt over your breasts, revealing the cute white bra you had on underneath. the way you were already splayed out beneath him, pretty brown skin and shy eyes looking away from nanami’s. “you’re jus’ too pretty baby.”
nanami leaned back down and began kissing you again, this time those large hands of his toying with your breasts, hands sliding underneath your bra to toy with your nipples, the noise you made only fueling that ego of his that bubbled in his chest knowing he had you going crazy already. you couldn’t help yourself anymore, your hips grinding forward into him. 
“you need me that bad, darlin’?” he said against your lips, and you helplessly nodded in response. he licked at your bottom lip, moving his hands from your chest down to your bottoms and pulling them down and off with a quick yank. the cold of the counter made you hiss, but you were quickly distracted feeling lips press right above the waistband of your matching panties, “m’gonna fix it for you, jus’ be a good girl n’ relax for me.”
you did your damned hardest, but with the way he pushed your panties to the side and buried his face between your legs, it was hard. with his nose pushed up against your mound his tongue explored every inch of your cunt, lapping up any of your arousal that dared to grace his tongue. he said no words, only humming when you had a good grip on his hair, which he absolutely loved. the way you writhed against his tongue, especially when he sucked your clit up in his mouth, causing you to arch your back so deep you had to hold onto the counter, had nanami feeling full of himself. 
his lil ego was only boosted further when your moans drew out into a long whine when nanami began to tongue fuck you. “kento-!!! ohhhh my godd!~” your entire body tensed up as you came, but nanami never stopped. if anything it only made him keep going besides your babbling pleas for him to slow down, especially when his tongue curled. your next orgasm came just as quick as the last, this one causing tears to bead up at your lashline, thighs almost snapping closed around nanami’s head.
his hands had a firm grip on each of your thighs, making sure you didn’t crush him while you rode out your last orgasm on his tongue. once he pulled away you could finally relax, your breaths heavy, whimpers dripping in ecstasy. “m’sorry baby, she jus’ taste too good.” nanami’s eyes lingered on your pussy for just a moment, admiring how much it was twitching and how wet you were and it was all because of him. “c’mere.”
he got up off the floor, off his knees mind you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you back into another kiss. tasting both you and him off his tongue was something so nasty, but you loved it. “i need you.” you reached your hands under that wife beater of his, nails dragging down his chest and stomach. you could feel how nanami’s stomach tightened, followed by him untying his coveralls from his waist, and pulling his basketball shorts and boxers down simultaneously.
“yeah?” your words lit an already big fire inside nanami. you heard little lewd squelching noises as he rubbed his tip against your entrance, your brows furrowing once you felt his tip push inside you. “y’gonna take all this dick, baby?” he said with his face just inches away, watching your brain scramble to find words from you feeling so full off that spongey head of his.
when it took you a little too long for you to respond for his liking, putting a hand around your neck. he didn’t squeeze just yet, but he slid in some more, watching the way that your face contorted, your mouth helplessly falling open. “i asked you- fuck. i asked you a question darlin’..n’ you better answer or else i’m pullin’ right back out.”
“y-yes! m’gonna take it kentoimsorryplease-” you blurted out, mustering all the brainpower you had left just so he wouldn’t pull back out of you. it didn’t matter anyway because you felt how that man twitched inside you at your words, pushing himself in a slow, fluid motion just until your hips met. he had your legs thrown over his shoulders already…he was NOT playing around. 
“good fuckin’ girl..’ he cooed at you through gritted teeth. nanami waited until your body relaxed, at least the best that it could, his hips rolling with every slow thrust. you were choking on moans, only able to get out gasps while nanami rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumbs, to calm you before both hands were placed on your hips. he pulled you down onto him with every thrust and it drove you crazy. he was stretching you in ways you’d never been stretched, his dick reaching places so far back you thought he was in the base of your lungs.
those sweet moans you let out only drove him mad. nanami picked up the pace quite seamlessly, his eyes never leaving your face as yours closed. he was fucking you sooo good words weren’t an option for you, nor were they even a thought. the most you could do was let your pathetic moans fill the room as nanami threw praises at you left and right, loving the way your cunt squeeze around him and suck him up at every word. 
“haaah- gonna cum soo~”
you couldn’t even get that last word out. nanami was plowing into you at this point, a hand reaching down to rub circles into your clit. to say you were fucked out was an understatement. your eyes were now unfocused, mouth stayed open to make way for those slutty moans you were letting out. though your vision was blurred, and the only thing you could make out was nanami’s chain that danced with each thrust, you knew he was right there with you.
“cum f- shit- cum for me baby, please.”
something about that saying please, practically begging you with the way he repeated it under his breath multiple times afterward, pushed you over the edge quicker than the both of you expected, your cunt clamping down on nanami’s dick and causing his hips to stutter. he kept his thrusts going, helping you ride out your orgasm before he had to pull out quickly, finishing on your stomach and chest. 
“fuck-” he groaned, his hip bucking wildly while he fucked himself into his hand, his head falling into the crook of your neck.
“some gentleman you are,” you couldn’t help but giggle as you reached your arms up and wrapped them around him. 
“yeah,” he huffed against your neck and relaxed in your embrace. After some time he finally sat back up, pulling his pants back up before he grabbed that towel from earlier and wet it with some warm water to clean you up. “i know this s’ backward, but i’d like to take you to dinner t’morrow.”
“oh?” you tried to keep your laugh in, knowing it was tearing the poor man up inside. “of course! and i expect you to be on time, mister.”
“i’d never keep you waitin’, ever.”
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orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..
exhusband!reiner next
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xhollowfaerie · 2 days ago
Text
Lavanda
a/n: ahhhh i reallyyy like how this came out, with the exception of me being a sleep deprived idiot and literally forgetting that Zara is already dead by the time Lucanis is First Talon (ik im a fucking dumbass) so ignore that part, but i liked the dialogue too much to scrap it, it is what it is. sung this song for hours while writing, pls listen if u can it's one of my favs and it adds so much to the atmosphere, it's very Rookanis to me <3 pps the elvhen destroyed my brain. i learned too many things. forbidden knowledge. enjoy💜 tags: demi4demi Rookanis, hurt/comfort, fluff, these little idiots are so in love, almost kiss, Rook runs Lucanis a bath, the smallest hint of spice (yes the concept art-inspired bath smut is on the way, i promise), Lucanis covered in scars is canon to me, body hair + happy trail Lucanis hehehe, dadbod-ish(?) Lucanis🤤, I overuse "mierda" but I like it too much
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Rook was happily humming a bard song as her fingers danced along the pool of water, watching the ripples with a smile.
“She would always like to say,
Why change the past when you can own this day…”
Her pointed ears twitched as they picked up a familiar rhythm of steps approaching, causing her to bite her lip and smile even wider, tilting her head to the side.
“My, I was beginning to think the Crows had stolen you away again, Master Dellamorte…” Kore giggled, turning to face Lucanis.
Just as she had hoped, a blush dusted his cheeks.
“Don’t call me that, Rook” Lucanis blurted curtly, before clearing his throat. He was still the First Talon, it seemed, ready to give orders. “...please. It’s too formal.”
She covered her lips sheepishly, as she always did after her flirting and teasing.
“I’m sorry.” 
He hummed shortly. “Why don’t I believe you?”
The elf glanced away, trying to contain the flush of her own features as she gestured towards the steaming pool.
“Well… I ran you a nice, warm bath! Lavender and honey… to help you relax. You deserve it.” He took a deep breath of the scent into his lungs, sending a shiver down his spine.
Her voice softened, and her smile felt like a warm hug.
“You’ve been working so much, tending to your duties as First Talon. I can't imagine how stressful it must be.” Lucanis found himself at a loss around Rook again; they had gotten much closer, and she was always showering him with affection; with her attention, with her allure. 
Lavender was calming. Of course; the most popular remedy for trouble sleeping; but it was quite ironic that Spite had whispered that exact word into his ear at Pietra as he looked at her lips. Lucanis had begun to associate it with a more exciting feeling. The feeling Rook gave him every time they were together.
‘KISS. HER. LUCANIS! FIRST KISS. LAVENDER AND HONEY. SO MANY TIMES, SHE BRINGS IT UP. KISS HER, KISS HER!’
The Crow flushed a deeper shade of red, averting his eyes.
‘REMEMBER! COFFEE DATE. FIRST KISS! REMIND ROOK.’
Kore had… omitted the truth. In her desperation to flirt, she had pretended as if she had ever had a first kiss. Much like Lucanis, she could only suspect what it would taste like. In his mind, she was more experienced - sweet, relaxed, flirty, and, not to mention, breathtaking. He had seen the way Viper looked at her. His mind had filled in the rest. Albeit… inaccurately. 
Running him a bath… cooking together, for each other, making coffee… grocery trips, reading, comparing daggers… The domesticity that had grown so beautifully between them wrapped its hands around his neck, cutting his oxygen off.
He didn't want to ruin it. Everything. Her. What they had. He didn't know what to call it, but that couldn't matter any less. He knew he was her assassin. Her God Killer. He would be anything she ever needed. It was all he needed. To be useful to her. To be what she needs.
“How was Treviso?”
As her voice caressed his hearing, his shoulders slouched. The assassin let out a sigh, guard finally lowering; for just a split second, he unravelled his facade and visibly winced. It was so easy to forget himself around her, to allow himself to grow comfortable. Too comfortable. 
“It was-”
“Lucanis!”
She stood up and rushed to his side, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.
“You're hurt!”
His heart was bursting at the expression of concern on her face. He smiled in an attempt to console her. “I assure you, I'll live” he chuckled, but she furrowed her brows and puffed her cheek as she always did when she was frustrated with him. He tried again. “No pasa nada. I promise, Rook, it's nothing.”
“Mientes” she mumbled, reaching a hand up to straighten his collar. His eyes widened. The Antivan leaving her lips always took him by surprise. He stared at her dumbfounded as she pressed on.
“Does it hurt? Can I see?”
He blushed again, and took a moment to remember how to string words together.
“My… ribs.”
Her hands rested on his chest, and he felt her touch burning a fire inside of it through his clothes.
“Rook-”
“Please, Lucanis. Let me help you.”
Mierda, her eyes. How could he ever say no to them?
“You always take care of me… Let me do the same.”
He could feel the heat extending to his neck and ears, wishing desperately that she would be a lot worse at allowing him to open up, for once - it was getting considerably harder to stay away from her, to maintain a safe distance between them, especially as her hands ran down his chest with that look on her face that he couldn’t quite pin down.
‘Rook. Loves you. Loves Spite, loves us!’ Spite helped, inching closer to her. She briefly glanced at him, giggling as he grinned in her direction. Lucanis narrowed his eyes in confusion, but she quickly caught onto it and, scrambling to shift his attention, lifted a hand up to cup his face, her own catching on fire.
“Can you… open your shirt for me, please?”
The dryness in his throat physically hurt as he tried his best to gulp it down, feeling himself unable to move, or speak, or do anything other than admire her with what he knew was unbridled affection and… something else that he really hated himself for.
“L-Lucanis?” “Yes.”
His answer was immediate, breathless. None of them spoke any further or moved. They stared into each-other; she lovingly studied the sharp angles of his face as he delighted in the roundness of hers, wishing more than anything that his arms could wrap around her figure and hold her to his chest.
The simple dress she was wearing fit her so beautifully - he didn’t have the courage to mention he’d just bought her the one she mentioned she loved the last time they went to Treviso together. Had they met under different circumstances, he would have been convinced she was royalty; a Princess, a Goddess. The intricate elven markings on her face, the trails of lightning… he wanted to press his lips down the length of them, no matter how far they went - he would let them guide his mouth over her skin while he worshipped her for days.
“U-Um… s-should I…?” Kore finally broke the silence between them, feeling the intensity of his gaze crumbling her composure; his eyes were one of his sharpest tools, but they had never regarded her with anything other than delicate softness - well, that, and… w-whatever had filled them just now, making her skin tingle under the fabric of her dress.
As if she’d shocked him, Lucanis finally snapped out of it, idly clearing his throat and taking a step back as her hand fell from his face, scratching the side of his neck. “Y-N-No, I, uh, I can manage... Thank you, Kore.”
Kore pursed her lips, trying to suppress a smile. Her enchanted eye followed Spite as he circled around her, brushing the tips of their fingers together. When her green orb landed on Lucanis again, his dexterous hands were unbuttoning his vest, eyes following their motions. He shrugged it off effortlessly before removing his crow pin, untying and pulling his cravat off with one swift motion, causing Kore to almost lose her balance for a second, hand rushing to cover the gasp that left her mouth. He glanced at her with the same look from earlier, a natural charm and… almost… she was inclined to say hunger, but that thought made her want to scream into a pillow. He was about to say something, but Spite clamped his hand over his mouth, making Lucanis scowl for a moment.
‘SHUT. UP! She’s enjoying it! KEEP. GOING.’
Desperately shoving the embarrassment creeping inside him back down, Lucanis tore his gaze away from her again, focusing on his buttons, dextrous fingers twisting them out of their eyelets with cold precision. The elf felt her lips parting enough for her knuckle to peek through, sinking her teeth into her skin as she watched him breathlessly. Slowly, his large hands moved lower and lower, allowing her a glimpse of his body beneath the expensive, dark purple fabric; her heartbeat picked up as her eyes shyly explored the shape of his chest, his sun-kissed skin riddled with scars. 
When he reached the final button, he straightened himself awkwardly, feeling the fabric part as it exposed his abdomen to her. She shamelessly trailed the length of his dark hairs lower and lower, trying her absolute best to not get distracted by the enticing mix of muscle and softness. A large bruise bloomed the span of his ribs, right across a large, visibly newer scar. 
Her eyes widened, feeling the tears already welling up; instinctively, she stepped closer, lightly reaching to ghost her fingers over it. Oh, Maker, Maker, why, why did she have to look at him with such devotion, something he could never deserve, especially not from her.
“Oh, Lucanis…” Kore whispered, riddled with dejection. She glanced up at him, silently asking for his consent; he simply gave her a shy nod, nervously bracing himself for her touch.
When the soft tips of her fingers ran down his scar, he shuddered from head to toe, accompanied by the smallest grunt of pain. 
Exhilarating, just as he’d always imagined.
She tore her hand away, feeling the overwhelming guilt stab right through her heart; he immediately mourned its loss.
“Ir abelas, I’m so sorry-!” 
With a shaky hand, he reached to gently wrap his fingers around hers and brought her hand back to his abdomen, reassuringly pressing atop hers. His ears buzzed, feeling himself falling into a stupor of her touch.
“Don’t be.”
A tiny sigh of relief left her, but the heat in her face only worsened; her hand felt like it might catch on fire any second.
“It’s not your fault. Just a pesky wound that refuses to fully heal” he grumbled, glancing at Spite, who peeked out from behind Kore, lovingly twirling a strand of her pink hair, scowling. She couldn’t quite hear him yet, but he was much clearer to her now, making it easier to read his lips. The intensity of his emotions reached her through the Veil - the hatred, that burning desire for revenge.
‘Nnnnnrgh! Zara! Calivan! Spite remembers.’
Her jaw clenched, feeling the familiar rage bubbling inside her from the day they freed Lucanis, multiplied tenfold by her growing affection for him since. Lucanis saw her eyes flicker, the way they did when she used her magic to slam Venatori into the dirt, the rawness when she slit their throats. It was such a stark contrast to her usual sweetness, but he adored it all the same.
Maybe a little too much.
The hand dangling by her side sparked for just a split second before she grasped onto the skirt of her pink dress, shaking relentlessly. She stared up at him, and Lucanis felt a part of him shrink as another threatened to swell. He knew much too well what she was capable of - how terrifying she could be, how powerful of a mage, more powerful than she even realized.
A mage. And he was her mage-killer, sworn to her service for the rest of his days. Enthralled, but no, not by blood magic, not like before.
It took every ounce of his self-control to hold back from kissing her.
The way her fox-like eyes narrowed dangerously, feeling her hand heat up over his skin; Lucanis felt like he couldn’t breathe, and then she spoke in a low voice, almost reducing him to a trembling mess.
“We’ll find her, Lucanis, I swear it. And when we do? We will make her wish she was dead. She’ll pay for every. single. thing she’s ever done to you, if it is the last thing I do.”
Spite dragged a groan of arousal out of his throat before eyeing her hungrily, breaking into a chuckle. ‘Rooooooook! Sooo. Protective. Lucanisssss. Want to? Get on your knees. For her.’
The Crow let out a strangled noise, shaking - he couldn’t tell if her mouthing ‘shhh, I’m here, I’m right here, Lucanis’ as her fingers lovingly traced his scar as she punctuated every word made his shivers much better or much, much worse.
La sangre del Hacedor. It was too late. Far too late.
She was nested so deeply inside his heart that tearing her out would kill the only part of himself that made it possible to get up every morning, to pick up his daggers, to not give up on himself, to not despise the abomination in the mirror.
“Kore Mercar” he found her full name spilling from his lips, daring to inch in closer as her eyes watched him so adoringly, a sentiment mirrored into his own. She felt her knees grow weak, hearing her name laced with his irresistible accent, uttered with such fondness, it made her wonder if she was dreaming of him again. They shared a thought which remained unspoken; the words themselves served only to hold the meaning that everything between them all but screamed already.
I think I’m in love with you.
“You are something else… unlike anything I have ever known” he shakily breathed instead, delighting in the flustered expression on her face as she broke into a smile.
“Says the scary mage-killer who makes me coffee every morning…” 
Her honeyed voice alone was enough to drive him absolutely insane, to make him come undone from just the thought of it (as it had already…). It made him so vulnerable, especially when she whispered to him with those alluring, mismatched eyes, the twinkling specks of glitter on her eyelids, the length of her lashes. The fullness of her heart-shaped lips.
She was absolutely divine, and there was no deity, no Maker or whatever else, that could ever earn his undying conviction the way Rook had.
Her kissable lips pursed, preceding the coziest warmth that he’d ever felt enveloping the throbbing pain surrounding his ribs, calming it. He glanced down to see her hand light up, shaken to his core by the absolute adoration painted on her face - adoration, and… neediness.
A need to be helpful. To be careful with him. To praise him, to shelter him, to make him see just how much he meant to her. How he had saved her life.
But… she was hesitant. Scared. He felt her hand tremble and, as his was still steadied atop, he tentatively gave it a light squeeze -it seemed that was all she needed in order to feel safe, to allow herself to open up to him. 
“I-I’m… not very good at this” Kore admitted. “I only cause destruction, only bring death.” She averted her gaze, shining with tears. “Or so I’ve been told. But, it turns out, they were right.”
“Over my dead body” Lucanis suppressed a growl, worried he might scare her with the murderous instinct taking over him. The swirls of pink around her face bounced so beautifully as she looked at him again, unsure if she had heard him right.
“Anyone who wishes to ever speak to you like that again may do so over my dead body.”
Her free hand reached to hide her own face as he heard a small whimper, but he - urged by Spite - lovingly pried it away.
“Please, never hide from me. Your presence has already healed me in ways I never thought possible. You hold me- this team, together, you soothe our aches, you aid our every endeavour, believe in us when we have been wrought of every drop of faith in ourselves. Everyone - myself especially - would not be here without you.”
“Lucanis… I…”
Maybe he was just too intoxicated by her scent, by the rosemary oil in her hair, by the vanilla of her perfume, by the steam of lavender surrounding them, but he finally dared to face the dread inside of him as he slowly closed his eyes, moving his fingers towards her face, almost, almost holding that sacred space of softness between her jaw and neck into his palm, to bring her into him, finally finally, finally, be brave, for once -
“Hey, Rook? Taash told me you might be in here, do you still need more lavender flowe- aaah- oh!”
Their steps were quick and almost soundless as they both pulled apart in the blink of an eye; Kore tucked a stray lock of pink behind her ear as she flushed and Lucanis cleared his throat, timidly pulling on his collar to close the gap in the fabric over his chest.
“O-Oooh…!” Lace winced, making a face as the realization immediately hit her. “Sorry…! Don’t mind me! I was never here!”
Harding apologetically set the basket of lavender flowers down with a grin, tilting her head towards Kore with a nod of encouragement before she rushed off.
They both exhaled in sync, looked at each-other in surprise, then looked away again.
“I-I should, um, let you enjoy your bath, before it gets cold-”“Sí, I, it would be a waste for it to get cold-”
Their hurried voices overlapped before a dull silence settled.
She was the first to giggle, followed by a faint rumble from his chest. They finally faced each-other again, bright. Light. Beguiled.
“Gracias, Rook.” “De nada, Señor Dellamorte.” 
He shot her a scolding glance in an attempt to mask his bashfulness, met with a beaming smile as she brought the basket over to the side of the pool, kneeling down to scatter a few more lavender flowers into the water, glistening with whimsy. Her words were soft and song-like, tenderly infusing it with her magic.
“Sul ladaral i nehn, sul lanun'ven'ur'alas. Sur on'ala sal'shiral…sul…sul lath.”
(For healing and happiness, for good luck. For a wonderful/long life. For…for love.)
He had no idea what the Elvhen rolling off her tongue meant, but it made his heart sing all the same as she gave him a small bow and a sweet ‘ma serannas’ (thank you), leaving him to bask in the relaxing scent. He took another deep breath into his lungs, feeling his eyes roll back, feeling the warmth of her healing still engulf him so lovingly, feeling the memory of her delicate hand on his scar. He exhaled, unbuttoning the hems of his sleeves, letting the shirt slip off his shoulders. Two fingers reached for his forehead as he closed his eyes. He flushed a few shades deeper still, bringing more fingers to cover his face in embarrassment.
“Mierda.”
Spite huffed in annoyance, his patience with Lucanis running thinner by the day. He sat on the edge of the pool, swinging his feet into the water with a grumpy pout. ‘Want to. Take bath. With Rook. Take. Rook. Undress her. Wash her. Pretty hair.’
Lucanis finished undressing and sunk into the warm, periwinkle water, letting out a sigh of exhilaration as he imagined Rook against him. He pictured her dainty, loving hands soaping his body with utmost care; he wanted to caress her breathtaking shapes, feel every inch of her, every curve fitting perfectly in the palm of his hands; he wistfully pretended he could bury his face into her pink locks, inhaling her scent; imagined the damp, silken sensation of her wet hair between his digits as he shampooed it, holding it in deep devotion as she recited his name. He rested against one of the walls and rolled his head back, feeling the dull ache in his abdomen lessening, allowing his exhaustion to finally rob him of his consciousness as he dozed off, mumbling quietly.
“Spite?” “Yes?” “Cállate.”
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fighting-these-demons · 9 months ago
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Divorce Saga Domon - A Haunted Honk Prequel
Hello Internet Stranger looking up G Gundam on Tumblr dot com!
This is an idea for a fic set in an Alternate Universe involving Queer Non-Canon Relationships between the characters of the series.
If you are not looking for this content please scroll on.
If you ARE looking for this content - and you're ok with reading my and other's Headcanons for this Alternate Universe I've haphazardly spun up -
Then go ahead and feel free to:
Check The Tags Of This Post For The Pairings
and click the Read More below!
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Ended up outlining a completely different fic as a Segway for an explanation instead of making progress on the Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU's Clown Motel Fic like I wanted to but uh....
For y'all's review for the AU: A Prequel Outline - Divorce Saga Domon
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Hey real quick - I'm thinking of maybe changing the timeline to 2 years post canon as opposed to 3 years and change post canon.
The reason being: I had a thought that this scene could either be part if the fic or if it's getting to big then it could be a stand alone tie-in prequel fic as part of this AU but - like
Immediately Post Divorce Domon Needs Space and runs off. As one does. And he runs to Earth because he just wants to Get Lost for a while.
He has Argo smuggle him out to avoid detection.
Argo has Andrew help stow Domon in a storage hanger of a Neo Canadian supply ship that's returning to the US - they have trade often enough and share agricultural resources - which leads to Domon ending up in New York when he hits Earthside pavement.
He's privately worked on his English the last couple of months and after being dropped in New York with a different hairstyle, outfit, and accent he's unrecognizable. 
He considers making his way west to get some solitude in the wilderness, but something about that initial plan feels off now that he's on the ground.
Chibodee is also Earthside for a special series of prize fights aimed at raising charitable appeal for the US in the eyes of Neo Americans.
Domon decides to hit up Chibodee for a fight on a day between matches hoping it'll clear his head and give him the clarity to decide on a course of action. What ends up happening is an unexpected heart to heart via blows and a breakdown.
Domon is happy for Rain and Kyoji, and he knows it's not true; but he feels like he lost a piece of himself when his relationship with Rain fell apart.
Domon's instinct is to run after that but Chibodee knows this city and Domon doesn't hide out for long before Chibodee drags him back to his place to stay and just "Chill out and breathe. You don't have to be anyone but yourself here. You can take as long as you need to find out what everything changing means for you." Friends and teammates stick together.
So Domon spends a few weeks with Chibodee sparring and hanging out in New York. Chibodee does a frankly awesome job at containing his feelings because he's focusing on Domons feelings and being a good friend first and foremost. Whatever he's feeling can wait until after Domon is done going though it.
There's a bit of a twinge in Domon's heart as he leaves that he can't really place.
After he returns to Neo Japan and gets settled back into life with his family, The Dreams start.
They're mainly set in New York. Small things first like noticing Chibodee's smile and his eyes. Then sparring sessions that begin to turn lurid.
He thought these kinds of dreams would stop after he was married.... he doesn't know what to do about this.
I just figure it gives more clarity and sense of time for the journey from Comphet Marriage Dissolution to Feelings to Confession. Idk.
But I got stuck on a bit and then had this thought and needed to get it down before I lost it and it was so long it made sense to make it its own post as opposed to several replies.
The Maize and Clown Motel will probably still be 3 years and change post canon for clarification.
@thedragonchilde @amplexadversary @youreaclownnow
#Domon Kasshu/Chibodee Crocket#Royal Flush#Chibodee Crocket/Domon Kasshu#Royal Flush Haunted Honk AU#mobile fighter g gundam#I imagine he hasn't had time for a Big Gay Crisis yet but the time is absolutely now#Kyoji absolutely helps him through this crisis because he had a normal environment and university to figure his own shit out.#Kyoji has to figure out WHY Domon is imploding and explosive and avoiding everyone a second time though.#This doesn't seem related to the Divorce but it doesn't seem immediately obvious either. 🤔#Cue Schwarz FINALLY getting a fucking break and immediately coming to stay with Rain and Kyoji at their place.#Domon was aware that they had been living together in Neo Japan briefly before Schwarz was called back to Neo Germany for questioning#Once his rank was stripped of him he was back with Kyoji for a short period before the Divorce as part of Kyoji and Dr. Kasshu's study of#DG Cells. Once they had a breakthrough - Schwarz was sent abroad with a small military group and Doctors Without Borders group to assist#With immediate infection cases on behalf of Neo Japan as part of reparations. So Domon hadn't seen him in quite some time.#Domon certainly wasn't expecting to see him in the garden when he rounded the corner of the Mikamura residence#Leaned over Kyoji who appears to have been working outside on his laptop. Fingers intertwined a hand on Kyojis jaw and locked in a kiss.#Which ends pretty much instantly as they sense Domon and break apart. It occurs to Kyoji and Schwarz that Kyoji never#Got the chance to actually tell Domon much about himself and the man he'd grown into while Domon was training in Hong Kong with Master Asia#This might be a pretty significant shock to him.#I can't decide between Domon running from his Gay Revelation or IMMEDIATELY Losing His Shit at the thought of Rain's SECOND marriage ending#And knowing for sure now the reason why his and Rain's marriage didn't work out. He really does prefer men.#Bu HOW DARE Kyoji do this to her!!! She's been through enough!!!! This will HURT her SO BADLY!!! (Projection of guiiillllttt)#Back to square 1 fir a moment like damn#And once he starts fighting Kyoji about it (Thank God the ressurection gave them the option to make Kyojis new build similar to Schwarz's)#It comes out that Rain cant go through this AGAIN and he won't let him do this to her! Her honor means something to Domon#And it should mean something to Kyoji too as HER HUSBAND#Kyoji and Schwarz catch on the Again bit and Kyoji makes it clear that Rain has known about his situation with Schwarz since they returned#That they're quite literally inseparable and that Rain married him knowing this. She's fully aware and an active participant.#Domon takes a leg sweep and doesn't quite make his recovery as Schwarz steps in#Pinning his arms and one leg in place so he can't run from Kyojis question. Kyoji grabs Domon's hair to turn his head and asks
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cup-o-stars · 5 months ago
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Relativity Falls!
Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):
Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.
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I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.
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Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.
Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.
Stanford and Stanley:
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Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.
Fiddleford:
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He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.
Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).
Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)
On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).
Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.
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(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)
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evilmenenjoyer · 30 days ago
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City of Love
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Pairing: The Salesman x fem!Reader
Summary: Months after winning the Squid Games, you receive an unwanted visit from the man who's been haunting you since the very beginning.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: smut (minors dni), drinking, sex in a public place, some murderous thoughts. Don't be fooled by the title, it's very much not a fluffy romantic fic lol.
*
The City of Love.
At least, that's what everyone calls it. It felt like the place to be after all the horrors you had endured in the past year – horrors you don't dare to say a word about to another soul. Friends and acquaintances have told you about how great it is, how beautiful, how magical. About how just a few days here will heal any woes in your heart.
Of course, it didn't work. Now you're just depressed in Paris.
It's not all bad. The Eiffel tower looks just as pretty as it does in pictures, especially late at night when it lights up and sparkles. The historic architecture and cobblestone streets are a nice break from the modern buildings you're used to from Seoul, so different it almost erases the memories sometimes. Never for too long. Just when you think you're slipping back into something resembling normalcy, they return in your nightmares in the shape of blood, pink jumpsuits and children’s games.
This afternoon, it takes the shape of a ghost – a tall, handsome man, whose face you’ve only ever seen in dreams and in the subway lines of Seoul.
All color drains from your face in a matter of seconds, all that pink winter flush.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He smiles, like you're an old friend. It nearly throws you off your balance by how natural it looks, like he's not forcing it.
“Beautiful city, isn't it? Especially at this time of the year.”
This can't be happening. The whole reason you left South Korea was to put distance between yourself and those horrific games, and all the people associated with them. To just run into one right here, in a different continent, mere months after your victory; it makes you feel like you're about to pass out.
You stand up from your seat and walk right out of the patisserie, leaving your ridiculously overpriced hot chocolate nearly untouched on the table.
You knew, somehow, that he would follow you, but you still prayed he wouldn’t. That it had been your imagination, or the PTSD, or anything other than the Salesman himself crossing paths with you in Paris.
“I expected a warmer welcome,” a voice behind you says, making you pause your stroll down the street. Fortunately – or maybe unfortunately – you still haven’t completely lost track of what's real and what's not, and you can tell that voice is real, clear as day. He’s real and here and that terrifies you to your very core.
Turning around to face him, you hate how he still looks every bit as infuriatingly handsome as he did the first time you saw him.
“What are you doing here?” you repeat, your voice shaky and not nearly as incisive ad you’d like it to be.
“Visiting,” he replies. He turns to gaze at the scenery around you. In your hurry to get away from him, you didn't even realize you ended up at the Pont Neuf, the old bridge crossing the Seine River. Dusk settles around the two of you, the purple-ish color of the sky reflected on the river, almost too pretty for this situation. “Like I said, France is quite nice during the winter.”
You scoff. “You expect me to believe it's just a big coincidence that you and I ended up in the same place, five thousand miles away from home, at the same time?”
“Small world, isn't it?”
“I’m serious. I did everything you people wanted. I beat the games, I took the money and I kept my mouth shut. You were supposed to leave me the fuck alone.”
“Did what we wanted?” Something in his smile changes, shifts from warmth to something more sinister. “We never forced you to do anything. Remember that. You brought whatever happened on yourself.”
Cold air rushes over you, drawing a shiver out of you. It's not snowing yet, but it start might soon. It's hard to remember you were once excited for it.
He reaches out, ignoring the warnings in your eyes as he runs a finger over the smooth fabric of your scarf, then wraps it around your neck one more time. It’s almost a tender gesture, if he was someone else entirely. It should have you flinching, or slapping his hand away. Instead, it only makes you freeze in your spot.
“Yves Saint Laurent,” he notes. “I see you’ve been making good use of that money.”
It doesn't sound accusatory, but it feels like it anyway. Even after months, it still feels wrong to use the money, despite all the literal blood, sweat and tears it took to get it. Like you should be gathering it all in a pile and setting fire to it in protest. But what would that change? Why shouldn't you be allowed to use it to build a new life for yourself?
So you stayed in five star hotels. So you bought a few more pairs of Louboutin shoes than necessary. Therapy was out of the question, so this was the next best thing you could come up with for the time being. Best-case scenario, a therapist would think you're a nutcase. Worst case, they’d turn you in to the authorities for confessing to multiple murders you had committed at the Squid Games. You didn’t want to take the risk.
“I thought that was the idea,” you say. The Salesman’s hands are still on the fabric, merely touching it, but that doesn't stop your mind from picturing him gripping it, pulling on it until you suffocate in the garment you bought as some empty, mediocre sign of victory.
“It suits you.” He lets his hands fall with no damage to your throat or to your respiratory system. “Much better than those knock-offs you used to wear.”
It disturbs you that he even remembers that. As far as you know, you were only one of the hundreds of people who had played ddakji with him at the subway station. You remembered every second of it, replayed it in your mind over and over again, but there was nothing particularly memorable about you back then. You lost most rounds. You hoped against hope that he would ask you out, even after your cheek was red and stinging.
That was a different version of you. One that smiled more, even with all the hardships in your life. One that was too naive to realize she was selling her soul to the devil from that very first game of ddakji.
“Since the city brought us together,” the Salesman says, “I’d like to buy you a drink.”
It would be impossible to keep the surprise from your face if you’d tried. Those are words you would've loved to hear all those months ago, and now that he says them, you can barely draw enough air into your lungs to tell him to fuck off.
“Why? So you can kill me the second we’re off the street?”
He chuckles, like he finds your confusion amusing. “Why would I do that?”
“Isn't that why you're here?” Why else would it be, after all? Maybe it's part of their sick games; to give one person the illusion of victory, let them enjoy the money for a few months, then go after them and kill them. Or worse, pull them back in.
“If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anywhere.”
You suppose there's no arguing with that, but you're not sure if it makes you feel better. Good news: you're still breathing. Bad news: you're still breathing only until he allows you to.
“You still didn't tell me why you came after me, then,” you point out.
“Let's have a drink, and I’ll tell you.”
You must be insane for even considering this. The naive girl that had first seen him in the subway, coming home late at night from work, would be enthusiastically urging you to go. You’re supposed to know better than her.
“One drink,” you say. “Then you go home and never contact me again.”
His smile widens. “I know a nice place.”
*
He brings you to a piano bar just a few blocks away from the bridge. It's a fancy place, the kind that makes you feel underdressed even in your designer clothes. He blends right in – not only because of the sleek, tailored suit, but because of his demeanor, the natural elegance with which he carries himself.
Not for the first time, you wonder if he was born into wealth, or if he was ever like you. Someone who had to claw his way out of poverty. You can't picture it, but there's so much you don't know about him. It's what makes him so scary and confusing to you, but also so damn intriguing.
He orders for you before you have the chance to open your mouth. Dom Pérignon, two glasses. You raise your eyebrows once the waiter walks away.
“Are we celebrating something?”
“Your victory.”
The response makes your stomach drop. “I don't want to celebrate that.” Not with anyone, but especially not with him.
He gives a small shrug. “Just a special occasion, then.”
The dimmed, warm lights of the bar make the place feel so intimate, almost romantic in a sense. You don't know what to make of it, so you force yourself to look away from him, even when you can still feel his stare unflinching on you. Luckily, the waiter shows up just in time, pouring you both glasses of the bubbly drink and leaving the bottle in a bucket on the table.
You turn back to the Salesman, glaring at him. “I said one drink, not one bottle.”
“You never specified,” he replies, fake innocence in his eyes. “Gives us more time to catch up. Maybe even play a game, for old time’s sake.”
The mere mention of a game makes you want to run away, to lock yourself in the restroom and refuse to come out. It has to be intentional; he has to know what kinds of things would be running through your head, after everything you’d gone through. You take a long gulp of the champagne, nearly done with the entire glass in one go. You can't let him get to you like this. You do your best to look unbothered.
“Do you walk around with ddakji tiles everywhere?” you ask. “Just in case you find someone who wants to play?”
That earns a soft laugh out of him. “No, not ddakji.”
He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out what looks like a standard deck of cards.
“Have you ever played blackjack?”
You have, but hesitation is written all over your features. “What if I don't want to play?”
“Do you think I’d force you?” he asks, like you're a fool for even thinking so. “Like I said, you were never forced to do anything. It's your choice.” He sips his own champagne in a much classier, more contained way than you. Like he's happy to draw this out for hours, rather than wanting this night to be over as soon as possible. “But you’ve beaten much harder games before. This should be nothing for our big victor, right?”
There's a challenge in his voice, in his eyes. You should know better than to fall for it. So why is there a part of you that still feels like you have a point to prove? That feels like, with a little bit of luck and skill, you can finally beat this man at his own game?
“Fine.” You cross your arms over the table. “Let’s do this.”
Pleased with your answer, he shuffles the cards in his hands. You watch him, almost as mesmerized as you’d been watching him play ddakji at the subway station. It's so hard not to get lost in it, but you refuse to look away in shyness and hesitation again, keeping your eyes on him as you sip the rest of the champagne in your glass.
He refills it before placing four cards on the table: two facing upwards for you, one face-down and one face-up for himself, the dealer.
The rules are simple: your cards all together need to get as close to 21 without going over. Whichever one of you gets the closest wins the round. You have a nine and a four, totaling thirteen. The Salesman has a five, and a card that's invisible for you. 
“Hit me,” you say, figuring your odds can't be too bad.
He places one more card to your pile: a seven. Twenty in total. Your heart speeds up inside your chest, already triumphant even before the end.
He reveals all his cards to you: the five you’ve already seen, a nine, and a three. Seventeen. Your smile widens, relief washing over you like you’d just escaped a near-death experience. You don't think beating a game, no matter the kind, will ever not feel like this again.
“Not bad,” he compliments. He reaches into another pocket for his wallet, drawing a hundred euro note and pushing it towards you on the table.
You just stare at it with an eyebrow raised, baffled and, frankly, a bit offended. With the tip of your index finger, you push the bill back to him.
“Do you really think I still need your money?”
“It's just symbolic,” he argues, but still tucks the money back into his wallet. “Of course, we can bet on other things too, if you’d prefer.”
“What kind of things?”
“Whatever you want. You won.”
“Whatever I want?” A grin stretches across your lips as you lean forward on the table. “Like a dare?”
He leans forward as well, like he wants to meet you in the middle. His eyes never leave yours. “Like a dare.”
You wonder just how far he’d take this game, if he would do something outrageous or serious just because you told him to. Maybe not. But even this is the kind of power that you never, ever imagined you would have over this man.
“Okay. Let me see your wallet.”
He hands it over without a fight. You rummage through all of it, ignoring all the cash and instead looking for something else, anything personal. But there's nothing. No family photos, no old receipts, not even a condom tucked inside one of the pockets. At last you find his ID license, the name Park Ha-Joon listed beside a smiling picture of him that looks so normal you almost want to laugh.
“It's not your real name, is it?”
He smiles. “Smart girl.”
“It was worth a shot.” You close the wallet and hand it back to him.
He shuffles the cards, hands them over again. Seven and six. You tap the cards in a sign for him to hit you with one more.
“Do you really want to know why I came to see you?”
Your eyes snap in his direction, not even looking at the new card that’s placed in front of you. 
“I thought you’d be one of the first to die in a place like that.” He looks focused on the game as he talks, “When I found out you were the winner, I wanted to see it for myself.”
Your throat tightens, making it hard to draw in my next breath. You look around yourself, as if trying to make sure you're really here and not at that disturbing colorful scenario, or at the bunk beds in the dorm. Still the piano bar. Warm lights, soft chatter of conversation, piano notes ringing through the air. The mental image of that place still doesn't vanish from your mind.
“See what, exactly?” you ask, even though you know it would be better not to.  
“If you truly earned it, or if you’re just one more piece of trash who got lucky, like all the others before you.”
Your hand must twitch, an involuntary movement you're not even aware of, and the Salesman places another card to your pile. You look down at it in horror, realizing all the cards together total to twenty-three.
“I didn't say hit me,” you protest.
“You tapped. You know that's the sign.” He looks over the cards again, as if just noticing the source of your distress instead of directly causing it. “Too bad.”
It's not fair, and you both know it, but you doubt pointing it out will make a difference. You bite your tongue around any words as well as the lump that's formed in your throat, tears trying to rush to the surface. Your gaze meets his and holds it.
“Are you going to slap me?”
He’s still for a moment, considering it. It's one thing to hit you in the face in a mostly-empty subway station late at night, and another entirely to do it in this sophisticated bar, with all these people around as witnesses. Still, you don't doubt that he would do it. You hold yourself back from flinching when his hand comes out, bracing yourself for the impact.
It never comes. Instead, his hands merely cup your cheeks, tilting your face to face him fully. He looks at you like he's studying you, his expression unreadable.
“Not now. I want something else,” he says. “A round of shots.”
His grip on your face is firm, but he runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone, like wiping away a teardrop that never fell. A gesture that can only be described as affectionate, and it's messing with your head way more than the slaps on the face did.
You nod.
He holds on for just a second too long before he lets you go. He orders the shots to the waiter – you pay no attention to the brand, or even the type of booze –, and you don't say another word until after they're placed in front of you on the table, small glasses so clean they gleam under the light.
“I crawled my way out of that hell,” you tell him. “You have no idea what I had to do to survive. You don't get to sit here and tell me I didn't fucking earn it.”
He looks more amused than anything. “To kill for necessity, anyone can do. It doesn't make you as special as you think it does.” He nods towards the shot on the table, reaching for his own. “Drink.”
You count one, two, three in your head before throwing the shot back, unable to suppress a grimace when the drink comes down your throat like liquid fire.
“Why do you wanna get me drunk so bad?”
He empties his shot glass as well. “Drinking together ensures none of us has an advantage.” He picks up the deck of cards again, before you ever have the chance to tell him you’ve had enough of this game. The words die down in your throat.
One more round. Your cards add up to seventeen.
It’s too risky to ask for one more card; anything higher than four would mean an instant loss. Only then you notice the sweat under your palms, the rush in your ears overpowering the piano music in the background. You force yourself to take a deep breath, to remember that your life is not on the line anymore and losing doesn't mean certain death, even though it feels like it.
He reveals his cards. Eighteen.
“Fuck.”
He seems pleased with himself, accessing you as you brace yourself for whatever he has in mind for you now.
“Come a little closer,” he orders.
You frown, but you find yourself obeying without much questioning, getting up from your chair to slide to the seat next to him on the booth.
He pours you both more Dom Pérignon, and this time he doesn't have to tell you to drink. You focus on the way the bubbles dance inside your mouth, if only to have something to distract yourself from his proximity, from the faint smell of his cologne or from the fact he still hasn't told you what he wants from you for losing this round
His hand lands on your thigh.
You jump in surprise, and his hand tightens its grip there, digging into your skin and keeping you in your seat. Your eyes widen and search for his, a question clear in them.
With his free hand, the Salesman pushes the cards in your direction. “You’ll be the dealer now,” he says, “and for each time you lose, I get to keep my hands on you for one more round.”
Say no, you tell yourself. Say something. A better, stronger woman would throw the champagne in the glass on his face and walk right out of this bar. Instead, you find yourself still as a statue, a sudden rush of warmth overflowing your senses – first, it rises to your face, coloring your cheeks red, then it travels lower to the pit of your stomach and down right into the space between your legs.
You can’t even tell if it’s the alcohol, spreading through your bloodstream and bringing a buzzing sensation to your head that’s not all unpleasant, or the fact you haven’t been touched like this in what feels like forever, or simply the man sitting next to you. How many times had you fantasized about this, until you realized that he was the catalyst of your ruin?
Maybe even a few times after that.
You take the deck of cards. He grins like he knew you would, like a master pleased with a dog following his command. You want to wipe that look off his face, but you can barely concentrate enough to properly shuffle the cards.
If you felt like you were fighting for your life before, it’s nothing compared to right now. The hand doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as twitch until the very final moments of the round, when you realize the two of you are tied. A fingertip slides up the fabric of your stockings until it stops at your knee, your skin erupting in goosebumps following the movement. Your heart beats so hard inside your chest you can barely hear the chatter of people around you as the bar fills in with people.
You lose the next round, and the next, and the one after that. You can’t even tell if you’re doing it on purpose anymore.
With each passing minute that you don’t push him away, that you allow him to test and cross your boundaries, he gets more daring, drawing shapes in the perimeter of your leg and curling into your inner thigh. Your chest rises with a breath that comes tumbling out, the sound of it way too close to a whimper for your liking.
You can tell he notices it instantly, observant and apparently fluent in your body language like he’s spent years of his life studying it. He takes the opportunity to let his hand wander under your skirt, to the spots it hadn’t covered yet.
That’s enough. You need to win this next round.
It’s like, for once, God listens to your prayers. Your cards add up to an even, perfect twenty-one to his nineteen.
He retrieves his hand as if on cue. You thought you would be gasping in relief, but what comes out instead is a pitiful, almost desperate don’t.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t as in stop?” he asks. “Or as in don’t stop?”
Your body answers the question for him before your mind can even process what happened, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the spot where it was. Your skin comes ablaze the second he touches you again, like his touch is charged with electricity.
“Did you know,” you can feel his breath so close to you when he speaks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “that you were the first person who ever challenged me to play ddakji at the subway? Usually it’s the other way around. Nobody but you ever made the first move.”
It’s hard to concentrate on his words like this, with his body leaning into yours and his hand that still touches you under the table and– whoa, that is not your thigh. The solid press against your core makes your whole body twitch, but you don’t jerk away. You try to focus on the memory.
“I didn’t give a fuck about the game,” you reveal. “I just wanted you to notice me.”
“I know.” He draws small, precise circles over you. “Do you ever think about how I would’ve left you alone otherwise?”
Of course you do, more than you would ever admit. But having him confirm it hurts. It’s bad enough to know you’re the one who caused all the trauma you’ve been through since meeting him, that you could’ve just carried on with your life, shitty as it as, if only you weren’t a foolish girl with a crush on a stranger. But to be in his arms right now, your head falling over his shoulder and your lips releasing a tiny whimper; it just makes it all the more fucked up.
“Was it worth it?”
The smile on your lips is devoid of any humor. “Never.”
“Let me prove to you that it was.”
Just like that, everything stops. He scoots away from you in the booth and stands up, bringing all the heat with him aside from the faint lingering warmth on your face. He leaves a few bills over the table, enough for the entire tab, and walks away.
He doesn’t head towards the front door, instead making his way to the opposite direction. You watch him, confused, for a few moments before you trail after him, past the kitchen and the restrooms until you see the red glow of an exit sign.
A chilly breeze rushes over you the second you step outside, and you expect to see him walking into the dark narrow street. But he’s waiting for you, leaning against the brick wall behind him. He raises his eyebrows in that same condescending way he’s done all night, daring you to make the next move.
You don’t hesitate for even a second longer. You grab a fistful of his impeccable suit jacket and pull him closer, crashing your lips together.
From the start, it’s not sweet or gentle. He digs his fingers into your hips hard enough to bruise, wasting no time before he lifts you up into the air and pins you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth, parting your lips and practically begging his tongue inside. Your legs part almost in unison, allowing him to settle between them and effectively trap you, his larger frame blocking any exit.
As if you would dream to get away.
In one swift movement, he reaches between your legs and rips at the fabric of your stockings, the sound echoing through the empty street. You’re already making quick work of his belt; or trying to, frustrated by your lack of mobility from his position. He doesn’t seem willing to let you go, so he does it himself instead, pulling his pants down just enough to free himself from the confines of his underwear.
You’ve soaked through your panties in whatever time it took to play all those rounds of blackjack. It felt like it was drawn-out for hours, but you know it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes. He moans when he feels it, before he even pushes into you – a heavenly, otherworldly sound, one you want to hear again and again. You push your hips towards him, feeling yourself throb when he rubs his length over you, burning hot where skin meets even though everything around you is cold. He rewards you with another sound that you drink right in as you deepen the kiss, happy to never have your lips separate from each other ever again.
He pushes the fabric of your panties to the side and thrusts into you without a warning, drawing a strangled, sharp gasp from you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the invasion, setting up a punishing pace that pushes you against the wall hard with every thrust. You claw at his back, losing the ability to form coherent thoughts, helpless to stop it as he all but consumes you like this is his last chance to.
“Ah– fuck,” you have to break away from his lips to attempt to draw in some air, your breaths and sounds interrupted by the rhythmic, vicious snaps of his hips into yours. He takes the opportunity to tilt his head and follow the line of your jaw with his lips, to mouth kisses and graze his teeth over your throat.
Hands find their way under pieces of clothing, trying to cling to as much bare skin as they can. He does most of the work, still holding you up in the air with the help of the wall (you curl your toes just to test the waters, the ones on the foot closest to the ground, and they barely touch the pavement), bouncing you on his cock however he sees fit, and it’s embarrassing how close you are already just from this.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so good.”
It’s intoxicating how vocal he is, all the grunts and moans he breathes into your neck, how it rips more sounds out of you than you would usually make. The street is completely silent save for the two of you, not another soul in sight. You could kill him right here and he would never see it coming. Gut him with the knife tucked away in your purse, leave him on the pavement gasping for his last breath. Who would catch you? You have enough money to run to yet another country, to give yourself a new identity and reinvent yourself as many times as you want.
The purse is on the floor where you’d carelessly let it fall, out of reach. Still you run your hands down over his bottom, feeling for any guns or weapons he may have tucked into the back of his waistband, or hidden in his pockets. There’s nothing, but you don’t have a lot of time to be disappointed about it before you’re coming with a high-pitched, broken shout, like your orgasm has taken you by surprise. He holds you up, squeezing you against the wall for support, the only thing stopping you from falling straight to the floor.
The Salesman follows right after, a stream of goods and fucks and your name falling from his lips as he spills deep into you. You wish you had it in you to be offended, to tell him off for it. But all you can think about is how much you wish you knew his name so you could shout it, gasp it, whisper it, for as long as he keeps holding you this tight.
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xnalux · 2 months ago
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I don't know if you're taking orders, but it doesn't hurt to try.
I was wondering what it would be like if the reader and (young) Violet were caught in the middle of making out (nothing too extreme, they're teenagers) by Vander/Silco and the two pull them into THAT awkward conversation. (I can imagine this so easily, it would be embarrassing and funny at the same time!!)
- that's it, a kiss on the ass
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warnings: teens making out, fem!reader
an: this request was so cute I had to write it at soon as I got it. not entirely satisfied about this but I hope you like it ♡
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In the warm, slightly messy confines of Violet's bedroom, the afternoon sun painted a playful pattern of light and shadow across the floor. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint hint of cherry, a scent that clung to Violet from her favorite shampoo. The room was a testament to the tumultuous energy of adolescence: The walls were adorned with a mismatched collage of boxing posters featuring both legendary fighters and multiple polaroids featurings vi with her colest friends, some of them picturing vi and powder together.
The floor, a battleground of discarded textbooks, a few stray pieces of gym gear, and an ever-growing mountain of laundry that she always swore to tackle "later."
A worn-out punching bag hung defiantly in one corner, a testament to the countless hours she's spent working off her angst and energy. A rumpled bed in the corner with half-read comic books spilling onto the floor, and the faint smell of snack foods that had been hastily stowed away.
Violet, with her short hair sticking up in a halo of defiance, grinned mischievously as she danced around the room, throwing feigned punches at the air.
"Come on, cupcake" she goaded,
"I'll show you how to throw a real hook. You've got to keep your guard up, though."
You didn't know exactly how your sparring session started, one moment you and vi were bickering about who the best hero was in the last comic book you read and the next violet was circling you, fist raised in front of her face as she challenged you to ''show her what you've got''
Your eyes sparkled with both excitement and a touch of apprehension, as you mimicked Violet's stance, your hands held up in an awkward guard. you'd always admired Violet's strength and the way she could command a room, the way she'd stand up for anyone she thought was being bullied. You'd been inseparable since you were kids, but lately, you had been noticing something more, a spark of attraction that you hadn't quite known how to navigate.
Your playful sparring grew more intense, the air crackling with something electric and unspoken between you. Violet's movements grew bolder, and she began to enjoy the sight of you trying to keep up, your cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink with every near-miss. As you circled, your foot slipped on a stray sock, and with a playful laugh, violet reached out, catching your wrist to stop you from falling.
In that moment, the space between you two seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with an unspoken tension. Violet looked into your eyes and saw something there she hadn't noticed before: a flicker of curiosity, a hint of desire. Her own heart began to race, and without thinking, she took a step closer.
The next few moments were a blur of movement as Vi playfully pinned you to the bed, your laughter echoing off the walls. your eyes went wide, but not with fear, with surprise and a thrill that you didn't quite understand. your body went tense for a brief second before you melted into the mattress, you hands fluttering to her sides, gripping slightly the fabric of her worn out t-shirt, like a butterfly unsure where to land.
Violet hovered over you, her grin turning soft and gentle as she looked down into your eyes. "You okay?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
you nodded, the nod turning into a shy smile.
"Yeah," you murmured, "I'm okay."
The room grew quiet, save for your panting breaths and the distant hum of zaun streets outside. Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, Violet leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a moment of discovery, a moment where the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. Your eyes closed, and you felt your inexperience show as your clenched hands hovered by her sides, unsure of where to go. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as you both gave in to the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface.
Your bodies pressed together, fitting in a way that felt so natural it was almost surprising.Your hearts hammering against your ribs like they were trying to escape.
She pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss to look down at you, her gaze searching for any sign of regret or discomfort.
''Truce?''
She asked, her slightly sweaty fingertips, a mirror of her own inexperience, caressing the skin of your wrists still pinned to the side of your head. You swallowed hard, feeling your heart pound in your chest.
"Truce," you echoed back, your voice trembling slightly with excitement and nerves.
Vi's smile grew, and she leaned back in, her eyes fluttering closed. Your hands, which had been frozen in place, started to move of their own accord, sliding up her arms to rest tentatively on her shoulders. Her skin was warm and soft beneath your touch, and you felt the muscles beneath. The kiss grew deeper as you both lost yourselves in the moment, the gentle pressure of her lips against yours making your head spin.
Your own hands grew more confident, moving up to tangle in her hair, which was sticky with sweat but still smelled faintly of cherries. You felt the softness of her strands between your fingers, the way they curled around your knuckles. Violet's grip on your wrists tightened slightly, a silent message of reciprocation and encouragement.
Her tongue brushed against your lower lip, and you gasped, feeling a thrill of excitement shoot through you. Without thinking, you parted your lips, and she took the invitation, deepening the kiss even further. Your tongues met, clumsily at first, but quickly finding a rhythm that matched the rest of your movements. She tasted of sour gummies, ''her favorites'' you tought, and iron due to her split upper lip.
In an instant, the heat of the moment froze as the door burst open. The sound of the door handle jolted you out of your daze, and your eyes went wide with shock. You saw Vander's surprised expression just before you had the sense to pull away from Violet. In your haste, you misjudged the distance and ended up headbutting her with a painful thud, making her yelp and clutch her nose.
''ouch'' violet groaned as your panicked gaze glanced between her pained face and vander amused one.
"Thy drugs are…are quick. Thus with…''
you squeaked high pitched as your tried to remember the lines from romeo and juliet you recently studied at school.
Vi looked at you, a bewildered gaze that screamed ''what the fuck are you doing'' scrunching her features.
''w-with a kiss I die."
you finished in a dramatic way trying to ignore the weight of the stare of vander still standing in the doorframe.
Vander glanced between the two of you crossing his arms on his chest, his right eyebrow slightly arched
''What's going on here?"
Before violet could utter a word you quickly shot up from the bed, your hand gesturing hastily in front of you.
''we were just…practicing…uh…drama for school!"
you looked at violet pleading her with your eyes to play along
"Yeah, for the school play''
she mumbled still holding her nose with a pained expression
''You know, the one about those two idiots who kill themselves by accident''
you glared at violet because she didn't sound convincing at all.
''romeo and juliet''
you hissed
Vander nodded slowly but it was clear in his eyes that he was reading through your ridicolous attempt at making excuses
"I didn't know you were in drama club?"
he said with a teasing tone
''I'm not'' violet responded
''it's for losers'' and you almost felt the physical need to headbutt her again because she was not being helpful at all.
you brushed your fingers over the dorsum of your nose trying to come up with something.
''yeah, we are not but…'' you said
"It's… it's just a new extracurricular we're thinking of joining,"
you blurted out, hoping that the desperation in your voice didn't give you away.
"You know, to… to expand our cultural horizons!"
Vander's eyes darted back and forth between you and Violet, the amusement in his gaze growing with each awkwardly constructed sentence.
The room felt as though it had suddenly shrunk, the air thick with the scent of embarrassment and the awkwardness of the situation. The punching bag in the corner of the room looked almost sympathetic as it swayed gently from your earlier playful exchanges.
"Oh, really?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"And here I thought you were just… I don't know, wrestling for fun or something."
Violet's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as she shot you a look that was both apologetic and slightly exasperated.
"Well," vi began, trying to keep her voice steady, "it's like… a new form of sparring, to mix shit up. It's all about… emotional expression and… uh… trust?"
Vander's eyebrow quirked upwards, clearly unconvinced.
"And this… 'sparring' requires kissing?"
Violet's eyes grew wide with panic.
"It's a… it's a trust exercise," she blurted out, her voice nasally from her still-pinched nose. "We read about it in a book. It's supposed to… to make us more… emotionally connected?"
the silence that followed was as palpable as the awkwardness. You could hear the clock on the wall ticking away, each second feeling like an eternity. Vander looked at the two of you, his arms still crossed over his chest, his biceps flexing under the fabric of his shirt.
Finally, he spoke up again, his tone softer now,
"Look, girls, I know you're growing up, and you're gonna have… feelings for each other, but maybe you could save the… extracurriculars for when I'm not around, yeah?"
You both nodded vigorously, relieved that he wasn't as upset as you had feared.
''and you know'' vander cleared his throat a little awkward not expecting to do the talk to violet today ''if you need to talk about you know...kids your age...and hormones''
he started suddendly feeling awkward.
"Vander!" Violet's voice was a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, her hand shooting up to cover her face. "We're not doing that!"
She was blushing furiously now, her eyes pleading at him to drop it.
Vander looked at you both trying to find the right words
"you know the birds and bees...''
He paused, looking between you two before continuing,
"or a bee and tanother bee" he gestured awkwardly towards the bed, "ok maybe not the best example but you know two blossoming young girls like you two"
Violet's hand dropped from her face as she finally shot up from the bed hastily walking to vander pushing on his chest.
"oh my god please stop"
"It's all about the…uh…pollination of life,"
he continued, his cheeks growing redder by the second.
"And how it's a beautiful, natural process that happens between…uh…people who really care about each other."
Violet groaned, her movements stiff as she tried to compose herself.
"we get it all right...just leave us alone" she asked, pleading as her cheeks grew redder by the seconds
Vander's finally raised hi hands in front of his chest as violet tried to push him again out of her room
"all right all right, just wanted to let you know I picked up dinner. It's in the kitchen. Don't eat it all before I get a chance, okay?"
As he left, shutting the door behind him, Violet and you shared a look of relief and awkwardness. She winced as she touched her nose gently, checking if it was still bleeding.
you rushed over to grab a tissue from her nightstand and handed it to her. "Sorry," you whispered, feeling guilty for causing her pain.
"I didn't mean to…"
"It's fine," she said, taking the tissue and dabbing at her nose. She looked at you, her eyes searching. "So… that was… weird, huh?"
you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, but… I liked it," you admitted, your heart racing.
Violet's eyes widened, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.
“I… I liked it too," she murmured.
for a moment, you just stood there, the silence stretching out between u like a tightrope you weren't sure you could both walk on. Then she looked back up at you, a tentative smile playing on her lips. "Want to… try again?"
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melminli · 1 month ago
Text
Pink Pony Club
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summary - you weren't expecting much from your evening in a shitty bar, but then you saw a pretty woman sitting next to you.
pairing: cho hyun-ju x fem. reader
word count: 1.2k
contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, fluff, a bit transphobia, pre squid game au
a/n: hyun-ju was my fav this season and i literally love her so much - she deserves the world and more😔💕
the request.
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You looked bored at your drink while you caressed its round surface with your index finger. Your friends had finally managed to drag you to one of their favorite bars and, you didn't really enjoy being here, as you had expected since it was pretty, well - straight.
You were fine with it at first, when you all sat down at a table and just talked and laughed together. However, after a while a group of men sat down at your table - with everyone's permission, of course, but you still weren't the biggest fan of that decision. The only reason you didn't mind was that your friends seemed to be having a genuinely good time with the guys and that they weren't too bad. You still excused yourself from the table after a while, because one of them wouldn't stop subtly flirting with you even when did not hide your lack of interest. Sitting lonely at the bar counter wasn't too bad, you guessed.
I'll just finish my drink and then leave. You thought to yourself, still bored, and glanced subtly at the woman next to you after noticing how she seemed to be moving around quite nervously for a while. “Hey, are you alright?” you whispered to her in a soft voice after you moved closer to her side.
She returned your gaze slightly surprised and seemed to try to make herself even smaller after your attention was focused on her. “Ah, yes everything is fine. there is nothing to worry about…”
A few guys a little further away from you suddenly started to cackle ugly after she finished talking and you didn't miss how the woman next to you turned her eyes back to the counter - obviously feeling uncomfortable by what they were saying.
“Did you hear that voice? It's even deeper than yours!” he said to his friend, who only agreed with a shocked look on his face as he pointed his hand in your direction. “Come on man, that's not fair! Have you even seen how rugged that dude is? I mean you do realize that's not a real - you know…”
You took an annoyed breath as you looked across the room and bit your tongue to keep you from spitting in their hideous faces. Though, it was pretty hard to restrain yourself since you really wanted to. "Assholes.” you just uttered while staring at their heads with a hateful look, imagining them exploding.
“Just ignore them…” said the woman next to you with a gentle voice after noticing your reaction. “What they say doesn't bother me anyway.”
And even though she said that you knew it did because it always did. You returned your attention back to her and introduced yourself to her after taking the last sip of your drink. “And what's your name, pretty?��
She seemed to be caught off guard a little when she heard you say that. “Oh, ehm…” she stumbled a little over her words. “It's ehm Hyun-ju. My name is Hyun-ju.”
You smiled. “Pretty like you. It suits you.” you complimented her and noticed how the weird guys from the corner were still watching you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” you asked and were glad when she nodded. “Well, come with me, I know a good spot,” you told her and took her hand in yours.
You gently pulled her off the chair with you and led her out of the stuffy bar, feeling like you could breathe again when your nose met the fresh air. “I was really close to beating those guys up,” you told her as you walked hand in hand with her. Hyun-ju giggled lightly, as if it was hard for her to imagine you doing something like that. You looked at her in disbelief. “What, you don't believe me? I'm totally serious, really!”
She tried to hide her smile, but barely managed it. “No, I believe you.” she replied, but you weren't really convinced by her answer. You just hummed when you finally noticed the store. “Look there! I hope you're hungry, because this place makes the best japchea.” you told her happily while holding the door open for her because a long time had passed since you last went to this little restaurant.
Luckily, there weren't many people here at this time of day, so you managed to get a good seat for two. “Sorry, I didn't even ask if you wanted to eat japchea. They also have lots of other things if you want, my treat.” you winked at her and Hyun-ju noticed how you cuddled your hands against your cheeks, as if they were still warm from the alcohol.
“Thank you, but japchea is fine. I will trust your recommendation,” she replied shyly and watched as you shouted your order with two fingers in the air to the chef, who gave you an all-clear with his thumb. “They don't have a waiter here, so…” you explained, automatically putting your hand back on hers without really noticing.
Well, you didn't until Hyun-ju's eyes turned to it and it was only then that you realized you were probably being a little too handsy. “Oh, I'm sorry about that.” you quickly apologized when you quickly pulled your hand back. “I really didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, you're probably not even into other women?” you let the question hang in the air, while you simultaneously cursed yourself for even asking that.
Hyun-ju blinked slightly in surprise while she played nervously with her hair. You knew at that moment that you had fucked up and prevented yourself from showing your disappointment. Unknown to you, she was thinking about something entirely else right now. So she was flirting with me the whole time? I didn't even realize, how embarrassing. “Are…are you?” she asked tensely, almost slapping her hand over her face at her stupid question. Of course she is, she just said it.
You laughed lightly with one eyebrow raised. “Do I like women? Hell yeah.” you just said, finding it a little funny how she acted right now. cute.
Hyun-ju was used to attracting the attention of girls before starting her transition. She even had a few relationships with them and liked it, but dating was one of the many things that became more than just difficult for her after she officially came out. “I'm a trans woman,” she finally said, even though she knew that you knew.
You just leaned forward with a grin. She hadn't turned you down, that's all you cared about. “I know,” you said, watching how she shyly avoided your gaze while crossing her arms in front of her. “You don't have to hide. I meant it when i said that you're very pretty.”
Hyun-ju slowly met your gaze and this time it was her who initiated physical contact with you. She held your hand softly. “I think you're really pretty too,” she said, and at that moment, you were both pretty glad that you went to that shitty bar today, even if you'd never go there again.
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gyaruhana · 1 month ago
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Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games
Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you
Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.
A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..
Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh
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You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.
Until today that is. 
You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 
Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.
Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.
By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 
The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 
The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.
The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.
“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 
With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 
As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 
As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 
Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.
He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.
“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.
You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.
“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 
“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.
Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 
He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 
With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 
He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.
You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 
His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 
“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 
“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 
“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 
He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.
The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.
The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.
"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.
He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.
“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.
“I know,”
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ladysharmaa · 9 months ago
Text
Heir
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant
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It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.
They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.
Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.
Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.
After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.
"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.
Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."
The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"
"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.
Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.
"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"
"How lucky I am."
"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."
Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.
Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.
Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.
However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.
Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.
"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.
And since then, they've never brought it up again.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"
She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.
However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.
"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."
"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.
When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.
"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"
Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."
Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.
Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.
"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."
"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.
Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.
However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.
And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.
Pregnant.
She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.
And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.
"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.
"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.
"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"
Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.
With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."
"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."
"Anthony, be nice!"
"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.
"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.
"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"
"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"
"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."
"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.
"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."
A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?
"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"
"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"
"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.
He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.
When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.
Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."
And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.
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themultifanshipper · 2 months ago
Text
Poker? I hardly know her!
You and Oscar stared at Lando, who was peeling his shirt off before anyone had even put any chips on the table.
Maybe Lando didn't understand the rules of poker after all...
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Warnings: Not quite proofread I just needed to get it out of my drafts before people started bringing pitchforks to my house, some of this is insane, i'm warning you, brief poker jargon, fucking on a jet, oral sex, male and female recieving AND giving, canonically bisexual landoscar, a bit of a humiliation kink, strip poker turns dirty very quickly, bad dirty talk, cum, Lando is a TEASE and a WHORE, finger sucking (inspired by something someone actually did to me once)
“Lando why are you taking your shirt off?” Oscar frowned in confusion.
“This is strip poker. You bet your clothes, don't you?” he answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You'd known Lando a long time, and he was a bit of a dim bulb (affectionate) sometimes.
Oscar you'd only met when he became Lando's teammate, but you got along like a house on fire, and despite you not knowing each other very well, one of your favourite bonding activities was making fun of Lando.
“Lando!” you laughed “that's not how it works. You bet your clothes but you only take them off if you lose”
He looked offended at the implication that he didn't already know that and tried to defend himself, but he had a slight tint of red quickly spreading over his cheeks.
“I knew that! I just think it's better to put my bets on the table is all...”
You and Oscar dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okay whatever you say, it's not like you'd be keeping it on long anyway” you teased and winked at Oscar.
“Oh fuck off!” he gave you the middle finger before picking up his cards that Oscar had been dealing. “and since when do you play poker? You’ve never mentioned it to me...”
Oscar shrugged, picking up his own cards.
“You know what boarding school is like. There's nothing to do except play poker, and ... uhh...” he trailed off and you looked at him questioningly.
“Well, you know. It's boring” he said quickly, his cheeks going slightly pink as he avoided your gaze.
Lando narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do know what boarding school is like. But we never played poker”
“Okay what did you play then mister wise guy?” Oscar's tone was off, like he was trying to accuse Lando of something.
Lando's face went blank, and you could tell he was going through the options one by one, not wanting to say any of them out loud.
“I can't remember?” he tried.
Oscar scoffed in disbelief and you decided to intervene.
“Right, are we playing then?”
“Gladly” they both muttered in sync.
You weren't naive. You knew exactly what boys got up to in boarding schools.
You'd been to an all girls boarding school yourself, and had your fair share of... experiences.
But both of them seemed to be a bit embarrassed about theirs as they settled in their seats like big birds that had just gotten their feathers ruffled.
The game went just about as well as expected.
Lando ended up in his boxers after only 3 rounds, while you and Oscar hadn't taken a single item of clothing off.
His nipples pebbled in the cool conditioned air, and you could see goosebumps erupting all over his skin.
Your eyes scanned his thighs briefly and you gulped. They were thick, and he was in tight black boxers that really didn’t leave much to the imagination.
As enticing as the sight was, it didn't help your concentration.
Oscar was once again dealing cards, and you noticed him side-eyeing Lando a couple of times.
“Are you sure you're not cold, mate?”
Lando shivered but didn't relent in his stubbornness.
“No I'm fine. Besides, I am determined to beat at least one of you”
“You'll be fully naked long before that happens” Oscar chuckled but it sounded hollow.
You also forced out a laugh. Lando naked was the last thing you needed right now.
But with an ace and a jack in your hand, how could you possibly lose?
And you were right. Lando could go all in if he wanted to (and he did) but on the table were a king, a queen, and a ten. And he was a terrible bluffer, he was way too cocky.
Oscar had already folded so it was up to you to get Lando's pants off.
You put your cards down face up.
“Sorry mate, I've got a straight” you said in mock- sympathy. “Someone's getting naked and it ain't me”.
You smirked at him.
“Not so fast” Lando tutted at you and showed his cards.
He also had an ace and a jack.
But they were the same colour as the cards on the fucking table. All spades.
He had a royal fucking flush. The highest hand possible.
Oscar gasped softly.
“Well well well, looks like someone else is taking their shirt off!”
You felt your face heat up immediately.
You only had a T-shirt on.
As in, you only had a T-shirt on.
“Ummm...” you flushed and picked at the edge of the table. “about that...”
You looked at Oscar but quickly averted your gaze when your eyes met.
“What's the matter?” he asked curiously.
“let’s just say that if I take my shirt off, Lando won't be the only one with his tits out”
Comprehension dawned on their faces and they both went fully red.
It all became suddenly very real. It was all fun and games until one of had to actually do it.
“Uh- well you don't have to, you can uhh” Oscar stuttered his way through an excuse “you can take your pants off or- or something. Or like just not do it. It's just a game. No pressure to actually get naked”
You looked at Lando and he smirked.
“If you're not uncomfortable with it you can do it if you want. We're all adults here, we've all seen boobs before, no biggie”
You hesitated. “Oscar?”
“Yeah, yeah whatever you're comfortable with!” his voice was weirdly high pitched but he nodded reassuringly.
You worked up the courage and grabbed the bottom of you shirt, slowly lifting it up over your head.
When your vision became unobstructed again, Oscar was staring at a spot on the ceiling, and the Lando's smirk had been wiped clean off his face.
Despite being your best friend for a long time, he'd never seen you topless, even though (and he would never admit this out loud) he'd fantasized about it many times.
You could tell he was struggling to maintain eye contact with you, his eyes glazing over slightly.
You chuckled nervously.
“It's okay you can look. Like you said they're just tits, right?”
Oscar glanced at them quickly, then did a double take and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly and looked away again.
Lando’s mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but his words died in his throat as he also just stared unblinkingly.
It was objectively quite funny how you'd rendered them both utterly speechless.
After a good thirty seconds though, it started getting a bit too weird.
“Okay this is getting creepy now, do you want me to put my shirt back on?”
“No!” they answered wayyy too quickly. “Its fine we're just a bit surprised is all”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay horndogs, shall we get back to it, then?”
They nodded almost absentmindedly, and Lando dealt the cards.
“I'm now determined to get Lando naked to take some of the attention off of me, now” you joked lightly and the other two laughed.
The atmosphere became a bit less charged over the course of the next round, but Oscar was seemingly very much off his game suddenly, because he lost two in a row.
In the name of fairness, he took his pants off, and his black hoodie, so he was still left in a T-shirt that thankfully hid the raging boner he was currently trying to make go down with sheer force of will.
He had an almost naked Lando inches away on his right, and a magnificent pair of breasts in front of him.
How was he supposed to concentrate in these conditions? He was living a bisexual's wet dream.
But he was determined to win, so he dealt the cards.
Lando was getting a bit antsy. He was already pretty turned on by the sight of you, but now, he couldn't stop staring at Oscar's thighs.
They were so thick. He wanted to touch them. Maybe give them a lick and a bite.
His fingers twitched on his lap, where he was trying his best to hide the ever growing problem in his underwear, that was unfortunately not covered by a T-shirt.
But he wanted to touch Oscar's thighs. He wanted to feel the thick muscles under his large hands.
“You doing okay there, guys?” you asked.
The two men in front of you were unconsciously squirming in their seats, doing their best (and failing) to not check each other out.
“Yeah, i'll start at 200” Oscar said, taking a single chip from his enormous pile.
It wasn't his turn, but it didn't matter, none of you were truly focusing on the game right now.
“I'll go all in” Lando said, voice cracking.
Oscar sucked in a breath.
“You sure you want to do that? You've only got one chip left”
“Absolutely” the older man said defiantly, his eyes dark as he stared at you.
A shiver ran down your spine. He was going to lose, you could feel it. He was going to lose and he was going to get naked.
“I'll fold” you muttered.
It was all between Oscar and Lando, now.
“I guess it's all in then”
The atmosphere was tense once again as Lando showed his cards first.
Full house. There was no way Oscar hadn't been bluffing.
“I think you're gonna need to take your shirt off mate” he tried to sound cocky but it wasn't very convincing.
A slow smirk took over Oscar's features, and he grinned evilly at Lando.
He slapped his cards down, face up, and the colour drained from Lando's face.
“Four of a kind. Mate”
You glanced down at Lando's boxers.
There was a small wet patch forming at the front.
Looks like being humiliated was getting him going.
You decided to try and save his dignity, but you knew Oscar had also noticed, if the way he was currently looking at Lando like he wanted to eat him, was any indication.
“You don't have to Lando, if you don't want to”
But his mind seemed made up and he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers.
“No it's fine, a bet is bet” he was very red in the face, but true to his word he pulled his underwear off and let it drop to the floor under the table.
You didn't look. You swear you didn't look.
“You can look guys” Lando said, you could hear the cockiness dripping from his words. He knew what he looked like naked.
“Nope, I'm good” you replied. “Oscar?”
“Yeah, nah I'm good. Shall we keep going?” he asked you with a forced smile.
“Yep, deal the cards, then”
Oscar picked up the cards and Lando whined.
“Wait, I wanna keep playing too” he sounded so pathetic. It made your thighs clench together.
And Oscar noticed.
“Lando you don't have anything left to wager. What are you going to bet? Your skin?” he mocked, but Lando didn't miss a beat.
“I’ve got a mouth. And I don't have a gag reflex”
Your jaw dropped and Oscar choked on his spit.
“Jesus, Lando” you breathed.
But the silence that followed was deafening as everyone seemed to be thinking about it.
You looked at Oscar, who looked at Lando, who looked back at you defiantly.
Well, it seemed this game was taking a turn. But you weren't complaining, and neither was Oscar.
“okay” you and Oscar said at the same time.
He dealt the cards, and you had a particularly shit hand so you folded, almost dissapointed that you wouldn't be winning Lando's mouth.
Lando refused to fold, despite having a shit hand as well, so he lost, naturally.
“So uhh... you want to uhm-“ Oscar gestured vaguely in front of him.
You took pity on Oscar. “You going to put your mouth to good use?” you translated for him, and Lando nodded.
“Yup” he chirped, and promptly dropped under the table. He was so eager, you were starting to think he'd planned this all along, and was losing on purpose.
But no, he wasn't that manipulative.
You could barely see what was going on but Lando dragged Oscar's underwear down and groaned.
Then it was Oscar's turn to let out a pathetic little noise as Lando's head sank downwards.
“Lando, fuck-“ he squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden heat of Lando's mouth overwhelming him. “Your mouth, Jesus Christ”
The sight was quite erotic, Oscar fingers threading through Lando's hair as the obscene sounds sounds of his mouth working Oscar's cock filled the cabin.
Oscar looked down at him with a furrowed brow and his mouth open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
You certainly couldn't. Oscar had always seemed quite reserved to you, yet here he was, getting deepthroated by your friend, in front of you.
“God, yeah. Take it. Good boy” he lifted his hips to meet Lando's mouth and Lando moaned wantonly around him.
One of Lando's feet knocked into yours under the table, making you look down.
You gasped in shock. Not at how fucking round and peachy his ass looked, although that was worth noting, no, what turned your world on its axis was the fact that Lando was wearing socks.
The absolute whore.
Turns out he was that manipulative.
“Oscar!” You called, and he looked back up at you with lidded eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Lando's still wearing his fucking socks!”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked down to where Lando's face was red and covered in drool and tears already.
“Lando...” he let out a shuddery moan “If you wanted us to treat you like a little slut, all you had to do was ask.” He cooed, stroking Lando's tears away.
The older man suddenly did something with his tongue that made Oscar throw his head back and tighten his hold in Lando's hair.
“Christ Lando, where did you lean to do that?” he panted, and Lando pulled off of him for a second to reply.
“Boarding school” he rasped, voice hoarse.
You and Oscar chuckled breathlessly. Of course, stupid question, really.
It didn't take Oscar very long to reach his end with how Lando was swallowing around him, throat tightening rythmically.
You were very wet. Rubbing your thighs together wasn't quite enough so you pulled down your own pants and underwear and slid a hand down your body.
The first touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. You spread your thighs, which caught Oscar's attention, and he gasped and unexpectedly came with a shout down Lando's throat.
Lando, the whore, swallowed every last drop.
His hair was a mess and he turned around, wondering what Oscar was staring so intently at.
The sight of your legs propped up on the table and your fingers pumping in and out of you as your cunt drooled onto the seat made his mouth go very dry.
He crawled over to you under the table and pulled your hand away.
His hungry gaze made your thighs clench, but his large hands came to hold them open as the flat of his tongue licked a long stripe up your soaked folds.
Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair, like Oscar had, and he closed his eyes in bliss.
“Pull it” Oscar said and you glanced at him before doing as he said.
You tugged sharply and the reaction was immediate.
The moan that came from Lando's mouth was downright pornographic, and you grinned, pushing his head down to where you were dripping onto the seat.
He wasted no time lapping up every drop and soon he slid a finger inside you, and then a second one, crooking them upwards and making you see stars.
Turns out Lando wasn't just good with his mouth, his hands were also a goddamn gift to humanity.
By the time you'd stopped shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Oscar was hard again and languidly stroking himself at the sight of you.
Lando stood up, his back cracking after being hunched over for so long.
You properly took him in for the first time. His cock was big, bigger than you'd expected, and his thighs were covered in what you assumed was precum.
You instinctively wrapped a hand around him and swiped your thumb over his tip.
He hissed and batted your hand away.
“I want to see you two fuck” he said, as if that wasn't a totally insane thing to say.
You looked at Oscar, who didn't look opposed to the idea, then back up at Lando.
“What about you?”
He grinned at you mischievously.
“I'm going to watch. And then I'm going to come on those lovely tits of yours”
You blinked up at him and he bent down, sliding a hand under your jaw to tilt your head up.
He stopped, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke.
“It does hurt a bit. But I really, really want to see my teammate fuck my best friend.” He hooked his thumb over your teeth to press on your tongue, opening up your mouth for him.
“And besides...” he continued “I like it when it hurts”
He pulled away, leaving you completely breathless and more soaked than you'd ever been in your life.
He helped you lie down on the table, and Oscar spread your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your slick covered thighs.
He slid himself through your folds, rubbing your clit and you whined pathetically.
He decided not to tease you too much, and slid home in one go, knocking the wind out of you.
You all moaned at the slick sounds coming from where you and Oscar were joined, and he quickly picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours.
Lando may have been good with his mouth and hands, but my god, Oscar knew what to do with his hips. Your g-spot didn’t stand a chance.
His abs flexed with every expert roll of his hips, one of his hands planting itself next to your head to hold himself up, the other wrapping around one of your thighs to pull you back against his thrusts.
Whatever poker chips were left on the table were digging into your back but you could barely feel them, you were high on the feeling of Oscar splitting you open on his cock.
Lando couldn't help himself, he turned your head to the side and tapped your lips with his pointer finger.
“Open up, darling. I want to see what you look like with a mouth full of cock”
Yes the line was pretty cheesy, but you stuck your tongue out anyway, and he grinned as he slid his tip along it. He shuddered at the stimulation, and gave an experimental shallow thrust into your mouth.
“Such a good girl... like you were made for it weren't you? Getting stuffed full of us” his fingers danced along your collarbones and you shuddered at the touch.
“So responsive as well...” he looked at your breasts, heaving and bouncing with the force of Oscar's thrusts. He pinched a nipple harshly and you cried out, voice muffled by his cock. “Would you believe me if I told I've dreamt about these quite a bit...”
You rolled your eyes and gave him the middle finger, but he just grabbed your hand and stuck said finger in his mouth and sucked on it.
Heat bloomed in your cheeks at the lewd action, and then he put a second finger in his mouth and shoved them all the way back.
You were going to combust on the spot.
When he pulled his mouth off it with an obscene pop, he looked down at you condescendingly, your mouth still firmly wrapped around his leaking cock.
“Why don't you put those fingers to better use, and make yourself come with them”
You did as you were told and pressed them to your clit, rubbing very slow circles.
Oscar was losing his sanity watching the two of you interact. The bickering, and acting as if he wasn't there, was making him hornier than anything and his hips stuttered as he felt the beginnings of an orgasm creeping up on him.
“Oh come on” Lando drawled, picking up the pace of his own hips “You can do better than that”
You rubbed faster, matching the rythm of his thrusts, and very soon you were thrown over the edge of extasy, back arching and toes curling as you clenched around Oscar.
Lando desperately wanted to hear your pretty moans so he pulled out and finished himself off by hand, on your tits, as promised.
Oscar collapsed on top of you, groaning into your neck as his hips stuttered to a halt, and you could already feel his cum seeping out of you onto the table.
You panted into the now stifling air of the cabin, wondering how the hell you got to this point in your friendship.
Oscar lifted himself off you, and glanced at Lando's cum now smeared over the both of you.
He leaned down and licked a stripe up one of your breasts, over a nipple which made you gasp, and then pulled you in for a filthy kiss.
Fuck it was good. Oscar was a really good kisser apparently. The taste of Lando just added to the depravity of the scene.
Lando felt a tad jealous at that moment. He'd lusted over you for years, and he hadn't even kissed you yet.
You and Oscar parted for breath and you saw the look on Lando's face.
“Oh for god's sake, come here!” you made grabby hands at him and he gladly leant down, capturing your lips in a passion filled embrace, his hands going to cup your face as he deepened it.
The cleanup was a nightmare, but you couldn't walk off the plane naked and covered in cum, so you managed.
You did the best you could with bottles of water and some towels, before getting dressed again, just as the pilot announced he was beginning his descent.
“Well what did we learn today, kids?” you said cheerfully once the three of you were on solid ground “Boarding schools teach you very important life lessons, and Lando-“ you slapped his chest playfully “is much better at poker than he lets on!”
The three of you giggled like children, rolling your suitcases on the tarmac of Nice airport, not hearing the pilot mumbling to himself behind you.
“And I learned today that private jet cabins are no where near soundproof....”
Taglist: @teamnovalak
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zepskies · 8 months ago
Text
Wanderlust
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.
AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂
I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.
Word Count: 650
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.
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You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.
Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.
You couldn’t help yourself.  
You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.
You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.
You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.
“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”
You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.
“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.
Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.
If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.
You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.
You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  
Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.
“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.
“Like a tease,” he muttered.
You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.
Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.
“How about that?” you asked.
“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”
You smiled too.
“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.
“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”
“Mhmm,” he responded.
He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.
His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.
Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.
A girl could get used to it though.
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AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Next we have a little hurt/comfort drabble, A Simple Touch:
Summary: Annie still has reservations about Ben, and you dating him for that matter…until she sees it.
▶️ Next Story: A Simple Touch
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28
@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022
@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky
@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun
@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420
@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx
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