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#waiting for the skin event to drop
pseudowho · 2 months
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"I can't stand events like this..." Kento grumbled, huffing as he fiddled his cufflinks into place. He sighed, looking to you and holding his arms out, dull resignation on his face. "Alright?"
You looked him up and down; long legged, filling his shirt and dress slacks like he was poured into them, effortlessly handsome with slanted eyes and high cheekbones. You staggered into your heels, giving him a wistful sigh.
"Amazing, as usual. And here I am, looking like warm coleslaw."
Kento scoffed, pinching your chin to turn your face up to him, liquid adoration in his eyes as you bit your lip.
"Hardly. I can only aspire to your level. But, when I get you home..."
"We'll probably be too peopled-out for anything. Even each other."
Your faces matched up, in grouchy resignation. Carried by social obligation, Kento grabbed the car keys, reaching to open the door. Your phone rang; you answered.
"Hello?" A tinny response, apologetic. Your eyes shot up to Kento, holding one hand out to him; a pause order. The thrill in your eyes did not match the tone of your voice.
"Oh, no, you're ill?" Kento's eyes widened, his hand reaching slowly to hover his car keys back over the hook.
"The party's cancelled?" Kento almost convulsed with delight, his fingers dropping his keys with the barest flourish. He loosened his tie, beginning to unbutton his shirt.
"Gosh, what a shame, we were so looking forward to a night out--" Kento kicked off his shoes in one fluid movement on the way to the kitchen, almost dancing round the corner.
"--I know, we bought wine and everything, it's okay, listen--" Kento walked back past you; said wine was uncorked and paired with two glasses. Kento's shirt was unbuttoned to his navel with a loose, hanging tie, and a bag of snacks pinched between his teeth. He beckoned you to the sofa, and you flapped a hand at him, grinning.
"--listen, I'm gutted. I'm so disappointed--" Kento shot you a look, and you smirked, "--but we'll just do a raincheck, okay? Okay."
Kento walked up behind you, impatient, and you stifled laughter as he picked you up around the waist, and carried you, tossing you onto the sofa.
"--okay-- yeah--" Kento's fingers reached for your phone, threatening as you muffled your laughter and kicked at him, "--yeah, yep-- love you too--" Kento grabbed your phone, and you called out, "--bye!"
Kento hung up, tossing your phone aside, and you squealed as he climbed on top of you, aggressively nuzzling your neck into the sofa, crushing you under his full weight.
"Thank fuck for that."
"I'm so happy I could cry, Kento--"
"--let's order dinner--"
"Yes!"
"Yes." Kento groaned, pressing hungry, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, tasting the perfume from your skin. "And while we wait..."
You heard the clink-clink of his belt buckle being undone, and you laughed, your cancelled plans making way for moans and sighs.
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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 3 months
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When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt3
Warnings: Mentioning of needles in a medical sense, Cursing, Mentioning of death
Pt1 Pt2 Hyungline  (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
JISUNG|
The room was bright, and everyone of Jisung's senses were clouded slightly when he woke up.
"Where-"
He looked up to see Chan looking at him concerned.
"You passed out and hit your head. You've been out for a minute. You worried us."
Jisung's face scrunched as he looked at Chan. "I didn't mean to...why did I..." The events of right before his fainting spell came to him at once and Chan watched as his face slowly crumpled.
"N-No no! Jisung don't cry please! She's okay! She's okay!"
Jisung's heart rate monitor kept hiking up. "St-Stop ly-lying to me! Sh-She's gone!" He wailed- his heart rate reaching extreme levels that spurred the appearance of three nurses.
They tried to calm him down and Chan talked to a nurse about giving him something to calm him down.
A subtle sedative was injected into one of Jisung's flailing limbs and within a few minutes he was calmed down enough to be considered safe.
Chris sat by Jisung's bed as he fell in and out of sleep, the exhaustion of the past day hit him.
He looked at his phone as Minho was calling him. He looked at the boba eyes boy, who's eyes were closed in what he was assumed was sleep.
"Hello...hey...yeah we're still here, Jisung passed out...yeah...she's okay...I've been splitting my time between his room and her's...both of her femurs are fractured and she's cut up and bruised, and her arm is broken but she'll be okay...I'm trying to wait until he's calm enough to bring him over...he won't even listen to me he's that distraught..." Chris sounded tired. "I hate to them both hurting...I'm going to cancel to schedules...no one should have to work after this...maybe apply for hiatus of Jisung..." Chan stood up and looked at Jisung who was staring back at him with wide eyes. "Minho I'll call you back."
Han sat up and looked at his elder. "Y/N...Y/N? Where is she-" He swung his feet over the bed, not even flinching at the frozen floor as they connected with his bare feet.
Chris guided Jisung by the shoulder and brought him to room a few halls down, nodding politely at the ladies at the desk; silently praying they wouldn't point out that it was past the time for any types of visitors. He led him in front of your door, and knocked lightly. "She might be asleep...I have to run back to the dorms real quick to grab you a change of clothes and update the boys they're worried sick."
Jisung nodded and looked at the bags under Chris's eyes and saw how dark and droopy they were. He looked like a tired dad, and that only hurt Jisung more.
Chris gave him a hug and gave him a peck on the head. "I'll be back soon, Jisung." As he walked away Jisung immediately walked into the room. His heart dropped when he saw you laying there on the bed- legs elevate and your arms as well, your eyes closed.
He almost couldn't recognize your face at first, with the purplish bruise and large cut on your cheek.
He walked over quietly and sat down in the chair next yo your bed, just quietly weeping next to you.
Tears of joy, relief, praise, sadness, pain, and heartbreak.
God thank you. Thank you. Thanl you.
He continued to weep quietly, as he reached for your hand on your uninjured arm to hold it.
He felt calloused and scabbed skin when he put his hand in it and looked down through his tear.
His index finger traced the dark scabbed that decorated your palm, and he felt a hollow pain in his heart. Despite all the other injuries this one hurt him the most, knowing that he was the direct cause for this specific one.
You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to see the love of your life crying over you hand.
"JiJi?" Your voice was raspy, and he instead of saying anything he started placing kisses on your palm in a silent apology.
"It's okay, love. I'm okay."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Y/N...it's my fault."
You shook your head viciously and winced with the neck pain; mentally kicking yourself for moving at all.
"Its not your fault Jisung. You weren't the one drunk driving. Nor were to the one distracted behind the wheel. Things like this happen in life; you just have to be grateful to be the ones that get through it." You swallowed and started blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I worried you so much-" You croaked. "Channie said you fainted and hit your head? Are you okay?" Your voice was heartbreakingly warm, and Jisung couldn't fathom why you were so kind to him at a time like this. When you were hurting so much physically, mentally and emotionally; you were still concerned about him.
He kissed your palm again and let out a shaky breath. "Stay with me."
You give out a small chuckle, but it hurts your chest so you decide just to smile.
"Sungie...I can't even walk." You joked. "My femurs are pretty messed up right now." Jisung continued to gently hold your hand as if it was something priceless; something extremely fragile and breakable. He rested his forehead against is and murmured.
"Then when you can walk again, don't leave. Stay. Cling to me. Walk towards me instead of away."
You smile. "Walk towards you dressed in white?" You joked.
"Yes." He said with 1000% seriousness in his voice. "I thought I lost you. That was a pain that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. If I ever lose you again...I don't know how I would deal with it...if I could...especially if I knew you left by choice..."
You felt your heart thump at a faster rate and cursed it quietly since it would bring the inevitable visit of a concerned nurse.
"I'm sorry. I truly am." He said, his eyes looking at you. They softly traced all the injuries, all though none of them compared to what he was feeling in his heart, what you were feeling in yours.
"I love you." You said quietly, those three simple words filled with so much that it quelled the negative feelings that were churning in his heart.
And even though he knew it wouldn't be something he could ever truly forgive himself for - even if you did - he was selfish enough to push that aside if it meant that he could be with you.
If it meant you would stay with him.
He kissed your palm once more, before laying his head near yours. His nose gently nuzzling your face.
"I love you more."
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FELIX|
When Felix walked into your home, he wasn't expecting you to be there.
But what he defintely was not expecting at all was you struggling to put together a new gaming station for him, looking at a super complicated instruction sheet for a chair and while sitting next to a bag filled with other electronics.
"Y/N? What are you doing?"
You turned as the rich and deep voice you loved so much reached your ears. It had been days since you had gotten to hear it.
"It-It was supposed to be a surprise." You said standing up, bracing yourself for him to yell at you, or scold you. "I'm sor-"
You almost had the wind knocked out of you as Felix threw himself into your arms, inhaling deeply.
You hugged him back, feeling just how much he needed it.
His breathing was shaking as you heard him apologize quietly.
He reached for your hands to see if they were red from cleaning so much.
"I'm sorry baby. But sorry doesn't fix it. So what can I do-"
"I love you." You said. "I understand you were angry...it's understandable. So I went to go fix it!"
You pulled away and Felix was in disbelief of how positive and sunshiny you were. He would consider you even more like sunshine than he was.
And with that he felt and overwhelming sense of love and appreciation to the one in front of him, as he watched you explain to him what you had been doing the past few days (odd freelance work for extra money) and how you had went to buy him replacements for all the things you had ruined by accident.
"I thought you'd like this one cause it was blue but I'm not sure..." You mumbled. "It wasn't as expensive as you last one so I'm sorry if it-"
You looked up to see Felix crying with a smile on his face as he bent down to look at you while you knelt on the ground organizing pieces.
"Lix, are you okay?"
He nodded, his freckles scrunching up as he smiled even more, reaching to cup you face with his cool hands.
"I'm more than okay, Y/N." He said. "More than okay."
You looked at him with wide eyes and he couldn't help but plant a bunch of kisses on your face as a musical giggle escaped the lips he soon captured in his own.
You looked up at him as he rolled over onto the ground next to you, grasping your hand in his.
"I bought replacements angel..." He said, a smile playing on his face. "So now that we have two... we can take my old PC from storage and I can teach you how to play...?"
You looked at him. "But isn't gaming time your you time? I thought thats why you were so upset, since I had ruined something that was giving you detox time..."
He shook his head. "I had gotten into an argument with Hyunjin..." He said rubbing his thumb across your hand. "And I didn't manage my anger well towards you. I'm sorry, again."
He turned to face you while resting on his elbow.
"You're too good you know?" He murmured quietly, moving a few strands of hair out of your face.
"Lixxie...you're entire fandom call you sunshine..." You say, feeling your face heat up.
"Well that's because they don't know you well enough. But once they do they'll realize that you're the true sunshine in the Stray Kids world. Since you're my world..." He said leaning over again, resting his elbows on either side of you as he connected his lips to yours again; both sets upturned into a smile.
"I could never be mad you love...how would it even be possible?" He asked as he continued to press his lips against your face in a cute, but chaste manner. "It is impossible."
You giggled as he blew raspberries on you and you got up and looked at the boy you loved so much, knowing that you meant just as much to him as he did to you.
And you knew that you could rest assured that you would be okay no matter what.
"Do you want to play games...or cuddle?" Felix asked, pulling you up, already reaching for the blanket you kept draped over your desk chair; knowing your answer would be exactly what he was hoping it would be.
"Cuddles." You said clinging to him. Intending to do that for the rest of the night.
And Felix intended to make sure you kept true to that promise.
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SEUNGMIN|
The crowd was static with a murmured excitement. The result of hundred of Stays conversing just before the group walked on stage.
You made your way to the front of the arena. After selling the ticket you had intended to use to get back at Seungmin; you had made quite a bit of money from the upsale and the desire of some crazed stan.
And you put that money towards flying across the world, to come to this concert, and surprise him.
Hopefully easing the growing rumors but mostly easing his heart.
You called the Kids manager, asking to get you in closer to the front, and was praying that Seungmin would be able to spot you. Or a fan would spot you and it would spark the little "Where's Waldo" game that would get back to him - or more importantly the camera men.
You just wanted Seungmin to be assured you weren't leaving him.
Rather you hoped after tonight it would be the complete opposite.
As security pushed their way through the crowd with you encircled in them people tried to peak through to see you.
When a few curious eyes met yours you waved, and those eyes widened in the ones who recognized you.
It was almost like they were relieved.
And just with that you could tell how much the fandom cared about the boy.
Almost as much as you cared about them while knowing all of them on a personal friend level. And an even more intimate level with Seungmin.
The crowd buzzed with energy up until the moments to boys ran out on stage. You were close enough to see just how tired Seungmin was; but he still put on a smile.
There was almost know build up as they immediately started performing, Seungmin on the complete opposite side of the stage. The crowd was extremely loud- so yelling out to the closet member to you - Hyunjin - wasn't going to do you any good, even if he could easily recognize the voice of one of his closest friends' significant others; he wouldn't be able to hear it over the sea of others voices and screams.
So you decided to head back towards the dressing room.
Seungmin returned to his dressing room after the show, his heart racing with excitement after the show. But he still had that underlying hurt.
Should I call her? I miss her so much I'm imagining her perfume...
He stopped and turned his nose upwards. Y/N?
He rushed into his dressing room and saw you standing up, folding one of his shirts.
He immediately ran into your arms, burying his head into your hair, a wet spot forming on the crown of your head.
"Baby...are you really here?" He whispered, the vibration of his voice tickling you slightly.
You nod and pull back; feeling a bit proud to straight out apologize so instead get to what you came here for.
He looked at you as you squared your shoulders and adjusted your dress so it covered you properly as you knelt down onto the ground.
"Jagiya...?" He said instinctively kneeling down with you reaching for you, but instead you motioned for him to stay standing.
He looked at you with confusion, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck to his exposed collar bone, making you even more nervous than you were a second ago.
You pulled a small box out of the pocket in your dress and noticed Seungmin's puppy eyes widening as you held it out to him with a shaky hand.
"Marry me, MinMin?"
His jaw twitched and he just stared at you in shock and you fumbled to open up the box, a simple deep gray colored band laying in there.
"Um...I mean will you marry me? Please...?" You rubbed your forehead feeling your face get warm at Seungmin's extended silence.
"No." You felt your heart nearly crumple in embarrassment until he corrected himself.
"I mean yes- like no as is in you - like - yes I want to marry you but- just get up from the floor Jagiya..."
You stood up and you held the box in your hands, and they were still trembling, and he wrapped his large hands around yours.
"I meant no as a reaction to you proposing instead of me. I wanted propose to you. I mean...I'm the man in the relationship and-"
"I'm breaking societal norms, Minnie. If we both love each other why does it matter?" You ask bluntly, earning a laugh from Seungmin.
"And I'm proud of you for that, even if it'll earn me relentless teasing from the guys." He laughed out, a few tears falling from his face in happiness, as he rested his forehead onto yours.
"These past few weeks," Seungmin started, "Have made me realize that it's me who is clingy to you." He says, kissing your nose, lightly. "I felt that I lost myself when the prospect of losing you was in front of me."
You looked at him and knew this was his apology.
"I don't want to leave you. And I don't ever want you to leave me. That's why I got this for you." You said taking the ring out. Seungmin pulled back and stepped into character, placing a hand over his mouth in mock shock and daintily putting his hand out for you to slide the ring onto his finger.
He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as he watched your face be completely painted in a blinding happiness. He couldn't help but kiss the lips that were stretched so wide.
"Do I have permission to break the news to Stay via instagram post?" He hums. "They've been suspecting we broke up due to your concert absences..." He looked at you, his eyes wide and bright.
"Yes of course, as long as you tell the guys in person. I want to see their reaction. I'm sure both Stay and the guys will be amused that I proposed." You winked.
"Yeah," Seungmin chuckled as he looked at the ring with a deep admiration and love. "They will be...speaking of this though. You must have paid an unecessary fortune for flying here, buying the ticket, hotel stay...and you request off work during concert season so you aren't getting paid. Where did you get the money? If it was from your saving let me fill it up again." His top lip curled in as he waited for your answer.
"Uh...you could say I made a profit of sorts..." You mumbled, thinking about the slightly illegal act of scalping the ticket price.
Your fiancé tilted his head to the side, waiting for an explanation, but the deciding to forgo it with a chuckle and just kiss the woman he loved and missed so much. The one he'd spend the rest of his life clinging to.
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JEONGIN|
You stood there the needle in your hand as Jeongin slowly walked towards you.
"Y/N? What are you...?"
You disposed the needle and adjusted your shorts to cover up your thigh.
"I was taking insulin." You said walking past him out of the bathroom, to go grab a paper towel since the towel in your bathroom was in the wash.
You felt the presence of your boyfriend behind you.
And you could instantly tell he felt bad, so you turned to him, his dark eyes wandering over you as his lips turned into his recognizable pout.
"I'm sorry for worrying you, Innie..." You said standing there. "It wasn't right for me to ignore your calls. Or blow up your phone in the first pla-"
"Stop." His voice was firm and missing the playful undertone it almost always had. "You didn't do anything wrong. It was me."
He swallowed. "I was embarrassed because of the guys and their teasing. And I called you childish when it was really me who was being childish for caring so much about people recognizing how much we love each other. How much you love me..." He's within arms length and you can feel his cool breath hit your face. "How much I love you. I'm sorry."
For the rest of the day you and Jeongin lounged around your house, him taking a nap on you lap at one point due to the pent-up exhaustion of the previous week.
You had shake him awake gently when you realized it was time for you to inject youself once more since you had finished eating a while ago but pushed off medicating yourself so Jeongin could get some rest.
He opened his eyes and whined as he shut them again, burrowing further into you.
"Baby, I have to get up and take my medicine."
He immediately shot up and the expectant yet worried look on his faced caused you to grin.
"Do you wanna help?" His head bobbed up and down as you got up, pulling the mischievous eyed boy with you towards the bathroom.
As you got everything, he observed with a bubbling anxiety.
"You won't like...die from this or anything right?" His voice was soft, lacking the confidence it usually carried.
"No, Jeongin, I won't die from my diabetes." You laugh. "Do you think I would let it take me before I get married and have kids, and grandkids and live." You say this purposefully to hint to Jeongin that it was him you imagined this with. Hoping it solidified his assurance in your forgiveness; since he had been asking all day if he was truly forgiven.
As if its his fault I have diabetes... You laughed to yourself.
You placed the glucometer in his hand and held out the container of strips.
"Just place that in there." You instruct softly, and he does so showing it to you to double check.
"Okay, so now we have to put the lancet in...here..." You say, your boyfriend focusing on placing it in correctly.
He takes your hand in his and when he presses the button to prick you he winces rather than you.
"Are you okay?!" He frets, looking at the extremely miniscule - too miniscule - drop of blood on your ring finger.
"Mm. Squeeze a little more out?"
He gently squuezed enough blood out of your hand and tested you blood sugar - then measuring out the appropriate amount of insulin and pulling your shorts up slightly to give you your injection with gentle hands after cleaning the area.
You watched him focus on the task at hand so seriously; his brows furrowed, and tongue sticking out of his lip slightly. He was so close you could smell his shampoos and count his eyelashes if you wanted to. You felt a strange longing for him even though he was right here. You missed him even if his body was right here next to, gently making sure he didn't leave any marks.
And you couldn't deny how much you loved him. So much that you had to express it.
"I love you forever, Innie..." Through his lashes he studied your expression. Feeling the love exude from you.
"I love you, forever and even longer." He said, his face breaking out into a smile. "My beautiful princess."
You laugh and that causes Innie to laugh as well.
"You're too sweet, love." You said placing a kiss under his eye.
"Does that mean I need to get you another dose of insulin?" He asked, looking up at you with a devilish grin.
This time you place the kiss on his lips his eyelashes fluttering shut as he sighed with contenment.
"I think I can manage."
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@sleeping143 @artist2181 @abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
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suiana · 4 months
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(yandere! ghost husband x gn! reader)
In many asian cultures,
it is taught to people to not touch any offerings or money that is left on the ground.
For if you do so,
you shall be married to a dead person.
however, you chose not to heed these warnings and picked up a heavy wad of cash that was left on the sidewalk of a forest.
you picked it up, happily thinking it was just some rich guy who dropped his money while on a nature walk, that you got lucky enough to stumble upon his secret stash.
so you brought it home with you, thinking of all the wonderful things you'd buy with this newfound money you got.
unfortunately, that was just the start of many unexplainable things that begun to happen to you.
"dude can you not close my door?! I'm trying to go on a date!"
you yell at the air, staring at your door which suddenly slammed shut. it had been a few weeks since these events had started occuring. and events as in, random paranormal events. yes, paranormal.
it all started when you found that thick wad of cash on the sidewalk of some asian country and brought it back home with you. you thought you were lucky to have stumbled upon such treasure. like, holy shit that's a few hundred thousand of dollars!
yet the second you stepped foot inside your house, chills ran down your spine and you couldn't help but feel absolutely scared to enter your home.
but you simply shrugged it off, thinking you were just overthinking and worrying over nothing. must be the scary asian ghost stories you heard.
you should've went to the exorcist the second you felt that gut instinct though.
because as the days went by, your lights started turning in and off by itself, your house would be cleaned meticulously even when it looked like a fucking dumpsite a few hours before, and more importantly, you'd start hearing voices of a man who claimed to be 'your husband'.
at first you wondered if you were schizophrenic. holy shit, were you hallucinating right now? why the hell was there this attractive voice that kept on talking to you from time to time?
but it wasn't you being schizophrenic, unfortunately.
for what you were experiencing was very much real. there was now a ghost in your house, or rather around you, that would not leave no matter how hard you tried.
and you came to live with it, until today.
why? because you were about to go on a date with this super sexy guy but then this... this ghost husband wouldn't let you!
freaking slammed the door when you tried leaving! like who even does that?!
"ugh, you're being unreasonable!"
you yell at the air, glaring angrily as you place your hands on your hips. you didn't know where this ghost husband of yours was, but you did know he was near you. i mean, the temperature drop was a clear sign that he was.
"me? unreasonable?"
ah, there he was.
you turn around to face the aur, glaring angrily as you feel your skin prickling. his voice came from behind you and he was whispering into your ear. he always likes to do that, you noticed. speaking from behind.
"yeah, you! dude i just want to get laid!"
you reply in irritation, hands on your hips as you shake your head. you wait for his reply, pursuing your lips angrily before shrieking as you feel him blow cold air against your nape.
"but you have me, don't you?"
"well I don't want you! I didn't know you'd come together with the money! and I can't even use the money..."
you mumble off, shivering slightly as you continue to glare at the air. god damn it, so much talk about being your husband and you don't even know how he looks like! heck, you can't even see him!
"I don't even know how you look like! how could you prevent me from going on a date with this sexy guy-"
in the middle of your complaint, you suddenly yelp as an attractive male, albeit a translucent one, stares right at you, an unamused face as he looks you down.
"well you can see me now."
he mumbles, arms folded across his chest as he glares back at you.
your mouth is dry, cheeks slightly pink as you stare at the man. holy moly! you have a hot husband?!
"holy cow! you're hot?"
"what's that supposed to mean?"
you stare at the male, jaw dropping before you slap your face and look him up and down. he was clad in a traditional outfit, looking expensive and absolutely drop dead gorgeous- well he's dead but... gorgeous!
"damn okay, I won't go on that date..."
you drool slightly, moving away from your door as you continue staring at your ghost husband dumbly, giggling as you walk past him onto the couch.
"of course you won't. you're already married to me."
your husband follows after you, a cold aura following him wherever he went, chilling the area. thankfully the heat in your body helped to warm you up.
"why didn't you show me your face earlier? you're so sexy..."
"well you never asked."
he shrugs before floating over to you and resting his head in your lap. his eyes look into yours, a lovesick expression in his eyes as he traces his translucent hand into your skin, making the area tingle slightly.
you stare down at him, pursing your lips before giggling stupidly and blushing. damn, you really did have a hot husband. even though he's dead, he's still your husband! you only wish he was alive... then maybe you two could get dirty and-
"you know i can still pleasure you right?"
the ghost suddenly deadpans, looking right at you as though he had read your thoughts. you blink at him, not registering his words before you suddenly choke on air and look away.
"oh, are you choking? don't die yet... i like your body heat."
your husband suddenly moves away from your lap, getting up to pat your back in a pitiful attempt to relieve you from your choking fit. all you felt while you coughed was the tingling sensation of cold hands.
"damn you can't just say stuff like that-"
"but you were thinking about it, no? i can hear your thoughts, you know."
you proceed to choke on air again, having yet another coughing fit as your ghost husband continues to pat your back with his cold ghostly hands.
"oh my god just kill me now... this is so embarrassing-"
"no, i already said i like your body heat and you can't die yet."
you immediately shut up, staring at the ghostly male with dead eyes.
before you know it, you're walking to your kitchen to grab a knife to kill youself just to spite him. but of course, you were stopped by your husband who immediately wrestles the knife away from you, smacking your head painfully hard before dragging you back to the couch where he begins to suck your warmth away like a leech.
damn him, maybe you should get an exorcist.
"you know i can hear your thoughts right? you're not getting rid of me."
damn him, you really are going to get an exorcist.
"what? darling i just said no!"
you're getting an exorcist.
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lovegasmic · 5 months
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⋆ EXHIBITIONISM
ft. Alhaitham, Ayato, Childe.
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, fingering, degradation, almost getting caught, mentions of bratty reader ( alhaitham and ayato ), pussy slapping and jealousy ( ayato ), slight spanking ( childe )
request from @vieannee
NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST
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Alhaitham is not giving you mercy this time, you’ve been acting like quite a brat for a while, urging him into giving you attention even though the man was extremely busy at work, “you wanted my attention? you’re having it, and you better keep that slut mouth quiet or someone might catch us” he grunts in the darkness of the secret room in the farther corner of the Akademya’s library.
“Haitham... s-slow down” you wail, arms tightening around his neck while your warm breathing heats his skin, all words are more like a cry then actual words, slurred, unable to move between your boyfriend’s arms who had one around your waist, pinning you on his lap with a hand squeezing your tit, while the other hand fucked your cunt so fast and loud you wondered how he hasn’t gotten a cramp yet, “m’sorry!”
yet he only snarls, crooking his two fingers inside your dripping walls and continuing the merciless pace, the squelch so loud you felt your cheeks warming in embarrassment, “it’s too late for that” it comes as a groan, “besides, your slutty cunt is enjoying it” your boyfriend’s eyes travel down to where his fingers disappear inside your pussy rapidly, so hard and fast that drops of slick splatter around, staining your thighs and puffy clit each time his palm connects with your skin in a brief slap.
soon your moans turn into desperate pleas, hips bucking as the delicious release was so close you felt it in your belly, “n-ngh, imma... ah!, gonna cu—”
“wait, Paimon, I think I heard something”
upon registering those words, Alhaitham’s hand squeezing your tit reaches up to cover your mouth, pulling you close to his face with a groaned “shh”
the only response you could give was a roll of your eyes in pleasure, since his fingers between your thighs stopped brutalizing your pussy, and instead, opted to grind down and deep, massaging your clit at the same time.
“come on, traveler, it was just your imagination!”
yeah, it sure was, but the tiny squeaky sound you left out as you came around Alhaitham’s fingers was definitely enough to change their mind.
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“you’ve been so naughty today” is the first thing Ayato mutters right after pulling you into his lap, back against his chest and thighs wide open while you both sit on the floor behind a thin paper wall in his office at the state. he sighs, and your heart tugs at the disappointing tone of it, “where did you learn to behave like this, hm?” his fingers ghost over the apex of your thighs, keeping your skirt up around your belly, “attempting to make me jealous by flirting with other men, like some sort of cheap whore”
“i-i didn’t...!” you protest, or at least try to before your sounds get cut by a sharp whine and the sound of Ayato’s hand landing on your pussy, not hard enough to hurt.
he tuts, returning to play with your thighs and slowly approaching your swollen folds, sliding two of his fingers across your drenched slit and collecting a copious amount of slick, “there you go disobeying again, you need to learn to be quiet”
with Ayato almost everything sounds like a threat, and this time is no different, with his previous teasing the least you expected was for his fingers to roughly slide inside your cunt, making your back arch immediately, “whores like you love to get their pussies fucked, don’t you?” there’s a small pause as he takes in your cries, “although my fingers are all you will get today, that if I allow you to cum...”
a whimper gets cut on your throat, tangling with tears in your eyes at the sudden voice of Thoma while stepping into the office.
your eyes widening at his footsteps and desperately looking up at your lover who just had a smirk on his face, “my lord, I just retrieved the materials you asked for from the docs, and Miss Ayaka will be returning home later tonight” luckily, his voice was as even as ever, not giving in any sign of suspicion.
“very well, thank you, Thoma” Ayato compliments, still lazily sliding his fingers in and out of your inviting cunt.
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“couldn’t have waited until we got home, huh?” Childe mutters with a slow and lazy smile stretching through his face, one of his hands signing and reviewing certain documents from the northland bank, while the other slid across the soft expanse of your asscheeks, squeezing and sliding just down enough to rub against your slit, rough and dirty, “i spoil you too much, now you can’t keep yourself from bouncing on my cock at any given chance, don’t you, slut?”
his words are mocking and worryingly lacking in emotions, only getting you to squirm in your position laying on his lap with your feet uncomfortably holding yourself from the ground, a soft and imperceptible “mngh” gets ripped out of your throat, not quite understanding his words due to the multiple hours of constant stimulation that was not quite enough, switching between Childe finger fucking your pussy and languidly rubbing on your clit.
“please... more...”
his hand immediately makes contact with your soft ass cheek, making you whine and buck your hips, “pay attention to what i’m saying, bitch” he growls now, returning to rub his whole palm against your cunt, “but I have to admit you look so cute with that stupid expression on your face” he mocks once again, and then his long and slender fingers are plunging into your cunt, hard and deep, twisting and spreading your drenched walls before retreating them to give a bored look to his sticky fingers.
“look how wet you are,” he laughs, shoving his fingers in front of your face, “embarrasing”
a knock on the door interrupts the moment for barely a second before he’s replying, “huh? yes, come in” to whoever fatui is standing on the other side.
the conversation falls to your deaf ears, thanking that Childe’s desk was really tall so the poor soldier didn’t even catch a glimpse of your eyes rolling back and pussy clenching around his boss’ fingers.
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ashwhowrites · 4 months
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Hiii i really lovee your writings! Hope can make it into your request list. I'm thinking of simp eddie doing everything that he can to keep his girlfriend's attention on him all day, especially when there is an event outside that gets her busy from catering to his needs. And one thing that he can't stand, is waking up to an empty side bed. Thank you!
This was adorable. And I'm definitely Eddie in this situation. I want my partners attention 24/7. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Her attention
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Eddie was smitten and in love with his girlfriend, and everyone knew it. It didn't matter if it was a stranger or his best friend, it was clear he lived for the attention of her.
Y/N and Eddie have been together for a year and the honeymoon phase never fizzled. He loved her more as each day passed.
And he loved having her attention focused just on him. If her eyes wandered elsewhere, he was quick to bring her eyes right back. He was like a little puppy, with his soft eyes and hyper attitude when she looked at him. He sat and waited at the door, staring at the window all day long, and bounced at her feet once she walked in.
He didn't like to be alone, and she knew that. She was happy to bring him along everywhere if he was welcomed. She loved that boy just as much as he loved her.
~~~
Y/N led Eddie into the restaurant and he refused to let go of her hand. She loved how he followed her around with no thoughts in his pretty boy's head.
"Last to join us, I wonder why," Steve teased as the couple joined the gang in a large booth. His eyes looked to Eddie as he made room.
"Traffic," Eddie lied
"At least you had someone to keep you busy," Robin added as she flicked the red lipstick on Eddie's neck. He flinched and muttered ow.
Eddie kept his hand in hers as they ordered their drinks.
The gang was quick to jump into a conversation.
"How is the new job?" Nancy asked, her eyes on Y/N
"It is so good!" Y/N exclaimed with a smile. "My boss is very nice and the workload isn't too bad."
She felt Eddie's fingers tap against her thigh but she continued to talk. "My coworker did the funniest thing!"
The longer she told the story, the more she felt Eddie's fingers tapping her thigh. He began to poke her skin as he waited for her to notice him. He ignored everyone else, his head turned just to face her. His puppy eyes frowning as he waited for her to look back at him.
The group laughed as she finished the story, Dustin quick to add on with his own. Y/N gave him her full attention as she listened. She gave Eddie's hand a squeeze, but that didn't satisfy him.
"So Eddie!" Mike went to ask a question as Y/N talked with the group. But Eddie didn't bother to turn around. He waved Mike off with his free hand.
Eddie groaned as Robin brought her into another conversation.
The drinks were dropped off and the food was in the kitchen. And Eddie still didn't have her attention.
He huffed and puffed, pouting like a baby as he kicked whoever started a conversation underneath the table.
"OW!"
"OW!"
"EDDIE STOP!"
"Edward!" Y/N scolded, as the table grumbled in pain. Her eyes finally looked over to him. That excited puppy look in his eyes. He smiled like he did nothing wrong, just excited that she was finally paying attention to him.
"Yes, my love?" he asked, picking up her hand to kiss the back of it.
"Stop hurting our friends!"
~
It took another five minutes before Eddie started pouting again. Her attention was on Nancy, as Eddie groaned.
"We'll be right back," Y/N said as she dragged Eddie out of the booth. The tabled "ooo" ed as Eddie flipped them off.
They went outside and rounded the corner to be out of eyesight.
"What is the deal?" She snapped, her hand dropped his as she crossed her arms.
Eddie knew she was slightly pissed, but he knew exactly how to get out of it.
"I wanted to get you alone," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned against the wall
"Why?"
He didn't say anything, just grabbed her arm, making her uncross them. He grabbed her hand and yanked her right against him. She gasped as her body smacked into his hard chest.
"Because this is more fun," he whispered as he looked into her eyes. His eyes flashed down to her lips before he leaned in. She closed her eyes and met him halfway in a steamy kiss. He let go of her hand to wrap his arms around her waist. She moaned as his tongue slipped in her mouth. Her hands were against his chest as she kissed him harder.
She moaned as he moved his hand down to her ass. He budged his knee between her legs and pushed her hips against him.
~~~
Y/N and Eddie were finding their seats. Y/N munched on Twizzlers as Eddie led them to two open seats. The previews played on the big screen and Eddie dug into the popcorn.
As the lights dimmed and the movie started to roll, Eddie remembered why he hated the movie theater. He had to be silent, he couldn't talk to his girlfriend like he wanted. And he was supposed to keep his hands to himself. If he can't touch her or talk to her, how would he ever get her attention?
Eddie barely made it thirty minutes into the movie before he slipped his hand in hers. She held his hand back but eyes focused on the movie. He rubbed her hand with his thumb, but her eyes were locked on the film.
He unlaced their hands and grabbed her chin instead. He softly turned her head and kissed her lips. She thought it was a quick peck, but Eddie had other things in mind.
~~~
Eddie groaned as the morning sunlight shined through his window and right on his eyes. He turned his body, reaching for Y/N but felt his hand hit the empty space.
He shot up immediately and opened his eyes.
"BABY?" he screamed into the empty room
"SHOWER"
He got out of bed, yawning as he crossed the hallway to the open bathroom door. He watched as her body slid behind the curtain and the water began running.
He rubbed his tired eyes and then slipped out of his boxers. He opened the closet and grabbed another towel. Placing it on the hook next to hers.
He didn't say anything as he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted his head on her shoulder. He pecked her cheek and hummed in delight as the warm water began to soak into his curls.
"I missed you," he said into her skin
"I missed you too, baby," she said, turning her head to give him a quick kiss.
~~~
"And then he-"
Eddie groaned as Y/N talked on the phone. He was lying on her bed with his guitar. He strummed a few random chords as she gossiped with one of her friends. Her back was to him and he hated it.
"Babeeeeeee" he whispered but she didn't turn around
"Babyyyyyy" he tried again, she turned but held her finger up
He rolled his eyes and picked up his guitar, he stood right behind her, waiting for her to turn around.
"One sec, Rob. Eddie needs to show me something," she sighed. She turned to Eddie with a questioning look.
"I learned a new song! Listen!"
~
Robin sighed as she waited for Y/N to return to the phone. After a while, she heard the guitar stop and the couple whispering. Then it got silent
"Y/N, you there?" she asked
more silence
then a high-pitched moan came through the phone along with Eddie's name.
Robin gagged and hung up the phone. She'll try to have Y/N's attention another day.
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
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techwrecker · 2 days
Text
Handful of Roses
Summary: It’s you and Logan’s anniversary and he can’t even be bothered to show up. You’re left alone, wondering where he could possibly be.
Genre: Angst ⇒ Fluff
Tags: SFW, minor swearing, angst & fluff (duh), fem!reader, no use of y/n, reader calls logan bub sarcastically, logan is still a mutant, sickeningly sweet ending,
Word Count: 1.6k
Request: "Logan forgets a special event? Angst to fluff. Maybe a birthday, anniversary or special date night."
A/N: Tysm for the request! I really hope you enjoy it!
Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @saradika (tysm!)
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The congealed pasta slid into the trash bin with a solid thud. Hours of your hard work gone to waste.
Tonight you and Logan were supposed to be celebrating your one year anniversary. When you suggested the idea to Logan, he wasn’t too keen on going out to a fancy restaurant, so you compromised by promising to fix him something at home. You had made him swear he would be home by 7 to eat. You wanted him for the evening— all to yourself.
And yet.
You checked the time on the stove— 8:45 p.m. You had half a mind to lock Logan out. If he was going to break his promises, you were going to make him pay the price for it. Your heels clattered against the floor as you made your way to the front door. Just as you were about to turn the deadbolt, a tiny piece of your heart shot a plea of forgiveness through you. You hesitated, weighing the pros and cons.
On one hand, Logan deserved exactly what he had coming. You wanted to drive home your frustration. If he wanted to act like an animal, then he could sleep in the dog house.
But then again, staying in the house alone made you nervous. The house you shared was out in the middle of the woods and your mind tended to run wild with dangerous scenarios at the slightest sound. Usually, Logan was home before dark to protect you from your overactive imagination.
You decided to be nice to him. Especially since the rain was really coming down outside and storms made you nervous. And despite how angry you were with Logan, you didn’t want him to come down with anything.
You withdrew your hand from the door. The figure-hugging dress you had put on just for him was starting to scratch at your skin. This was the last straw. You let the plates clatter into the sink, not caring if they shattered or not and stormed off to the bedroom to find your fuzziest pajamas.
You gathered the pajamas and a towel and headed to the shower, turning the temperature gauge as hot as you could stand. You hoped the boiling temperature would take your mind off the disappointment Logan left you alone with.
Unfortunately, as soon as the water had saturated your hair, and turned your skin a flaming red, you burst into tears. You sat down in the bottom of the tub, wrapping your arms around your folded body to console yourself. Salty tears mixed with the water for some time. You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed since you had gotten in, but your fingers had already pruned by the time you calmed down enough to stand up again.
You knew Logan cared about you, so why did he have to forget stuff like this? It was important to you— you wanted it to be important to him, too. Your life was sucky before he came into it. Was it really too much to ask for him to acknowledge the wins with you? For a man who had walked the earth for over 200 years, a one year anniversary is probably just a drop in the bucket. But to you, it meant the world.
You turned off the water and toweled off. The vibrations of the front door slamming closed shook the walls.
“Hello?” You heard Logan’s voice call out. “Y’home, darlin’?”
You nonchalantly dried your sopping hair a few seconds longer before pulling on your pajamas. You wanted to make him sweat a little. Logan’s footsteps were thudding about the house, looking for you. You waited in the bathroom, arms crossed.
After a few more minutes, a gentle knock sounded against the door.
“You in there?” His voice was soft and tender. It was the voice he used whenever he pleaded cutely for hugs and kisses. Your expression softened out of habit. Not fair.
Your mind brought you back to reality. His manipulative tactic only fueled your anger. You ripped the door open. “Yes, Logan. I-“
Logan’s appearance cut your spiel short. He was filthy. Sloppy mud was splattered from his boots to the chest of his t-shirt, his jacket was soaked through, and his face was covered in dark grease— a giant, walking contrast to your soft, pink appearance. He extended his arm to you, a wilted and nearly bare bouquet of roses in his fist. His forlorn expression reflected the misfortune of his appearance. You almost felt sorry for him.
“Before you say anything,” he rushed out. “I want to tell you that I can’t apologize enough, darlin’. These are f’r you.”
“What the hell happened?” The hot tears threatened to well up again. “You were supposed to be here hours ago,” you said, shakily.
“I know, I know. The goddamn pickup quit on me after work tonight. Nobody in town had the part I needed.” He paused, expecting you to cut in. You kept silent and let him continue his excuse. “I had to walk home in the friggin’ storm.” He raised his arms in exasperation.
It explained why he was late, but not why he was absolutely covered in mud. At most, his boots would have been caked.
You jutted your chin out, gesturing to his mud-covered body. “And that? You’re gonna be late and track mud through my clean house?”
“You’re gonna laugh at me.” He looked down at the floor, avoiding your eyes.
You crossed your arms and set your expression in a slight frown. It was difficult to be intimidating in pink, fuzzy pajamas and slippers, but you did your best anyways. “Try me.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly embarrassed. “I slipped.”
“What do you mean, ‘you slipped’?”
“On the walk home. Tripped on a tree root and fell face first. I tried savin’ the flowers but…” He let the twiggy bouquet speak for itself.
You thought for a moment. It was difficult to imagine your stoic Logan tripping on anything, much less falling into mud and trying to save delicate roses in the process. A tiny smile crept onto your lips. You took the few flowers that were left out of his hands and took a whiff. Logan visibly relaxed his shoulders as you accepted his gift.
“I figured once my truck is up’n’runnin’, we could go out to celebrate instead.”
You lit up, eyes jumping from the roses to meet his gaze. “Oh, Logan! You mean it?”
“‘Course, darlin’. How else ‘m I supposed to make it up to my favorite girl?”
How were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that? His deep hazel eyes contained nothing but devotion for you with a smile sweet as honey.
“I guess I’ll make an exception— just this once,” You gave in to his appeal.
He made a move to envelop you in a hug, but he was met with your index finger pressed to his chest before he could wrap his dripping, disgusting arms around you.
“Nuh-uh. I don’t think so, bub. You gotta get cleaned up before you come any closer.”
He looked down at the clothes sticking to his body. “Oh— right.”
You sidestepped around him, giving him a wide berth trying to avoid touching the mess of a man. He left the door open as he peeled the clothes from his body. He had no shame about his body and you didn’t mind one bit. Making your way to the kitchen, you found a delicate glass vase under the sink. It fit the handful of roses nicely. Despite the rough journey, the roses that did make it out were somehow still perfectly picturesque.
The roses reminded you of your relationship with Logan. It’s not exactly like he was the easiest person to live with. In fact, you had bought more sheets in the past year than you ever had in your entire life. His nightmares could get awfully terrible. You would hop out of bed and run to the other side of the room— not because you were scared of him. But because you knew he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, even unconsciously. It was one of the little ways you were able to try and protect him— by protecting yourself.
But when you were with him, it was hard to imagine being anywhere else. Logan adored you. Every fiber in his being did everything it possibly could to please you. You knew he would always love you.
The shower shut off, hazy steam rolling from the bathroom into the hall. You pulled out a bag of popcorn to make while Logan got dressed. As the kernels began to pop, you heard his heavy footsteps carry him to the bedroom. The opening and shutting of drawers told you he was about finished up.
You were monitoring the popcorn when now-clean Logan wrapped his arms around you from behind.
“Hiya, darlin’.” His voice was low and relaxed. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and nuzzled into your neck. His soapy scent somehow made him more attractive.
“Hi baby,” you said, bringing your hand up to caress the side of his head. His hair was still damp, but you didn’t mind. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you today.”
“I miss you every day,” he said into the crook, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He lifted his face to meet your gaze.
You tilted your head to give him a gentle kiss, lips tenderly pressing together. His scratchy facial hair grazed your face. The sensation kept you grounded— reminded you that he was real and he loved you.
He cupped your face, turning you toward him slightly. He searched your eyes and found only love in them.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” He pulled you tight against his chest, letting his strong arms swathe you in his adoration. “I love you.”
You melted into him. What would you ever do without your Logan?
“I love you too, Logan.”
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Taglist: @arthurcerverogf @gdsvhtwa vwa @rosiahills22 @lonewolflupe
Join the taglist! || AO3 || Thanks for reading!
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intromortal · 4 months
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―ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ
bodyguard!p.js x nepobaby!reader
―wc: 10k est (well that was a fucking lie)
―cw: SMUTTTT, jealousy, feelings of unworthiness, possessive jay, angst, some lack of communication we love overthinking, not very professional behavior, more to be added
―release date: 10th june postponed
― series masterlist
―preview
You truly were a vixen, Jay though to himself, a dirty dirty vixen.
You had lured him in slowly. First with longing glances, your eyes flicking from his own to his lips whenever he talked to you. Then, you started trying to get his attention by dropping hints about your slow sexual life. “It’s not like I don’t have options,” you’d say over lunch while peering up from your cosmopolitan, the peel of a blood orange always adorning the rim of the glass as per your request. You’d fix your eyes on him, the hairs on his neck standing at the intensity of your gaze, “It’s just that none of these options seem fun or appealing enough.”
You could have anyone you wanted, and Jay knew that very well. Gorgeous gorgeous face and long thick lashes batting at him while feigning innocence from time to time, but you just happened to have a weak spot for what you couldn't have.
-
Jay suspected you would do something drastic when you eventually got frustrated enough. Something like kissing him out of the blue maybe. He could even say he was prepared to reject it, reject you, forbidden fruit luring him in. Gluttony hidden behind the promise of bliss.
What he did not expect was for you to get in the middle of the backseat while he was driving you to your penthouse after an event, position each one of your heeled feet on the back of the front seats, flip your gown up and slide your fingers inside your pretty white lace panties. Right where he could see.
He paid you no mind for the entirety of the car ride, never once telling you to stop, gaze fixed on the road ahead. You’d think he was completely unaffected if it weren’t for how hard he gripped the steering wheel, the veins on his hands bulging and knuckles turning white.
He even got up from his seat once you arrived home calmly as usual, only the shutting of his door louder than it needed to be. He opened yours silently, walked with you inside the elevator to get you inside your penthouse.
But when the door of your apartment shut close behind you he was all over you in an instant, teeth clashing against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. Sensual pants and rips of fabric the only sounds filling the huge modernly decorated space. He didn’t even allow you to walk to your room, you tortured him for months, even the thought of waiting for a second more than necessary was unfathomable to Jay. He wanted you then and he was gonna have you whenever and however he pleased, he was owed that much.
He had you spread for him on the big sectional couch in your living room, holding the back of your thighs as he pounded into you with force he never knew he was capable of. He had you propped over the armrest, stomach red from the roughness of the material and ass up, red from the roughness of his hands, your upper body pushed forward each thrust as the skin of his balls slapped against your behind. He had you facing him, holding yourself up on your arms, legs spread over his as his hips drove inside you from underneath, lifting from the soft carpet.
You two kept fucking after, sporadically escaping from the public eye to hide in a dressing room, his thick fingers inside your mouth to silence your moans. In the car parked away somewhere abandoned, riding him in the backseat, hands gripping the front seats as you bounced on his cock. In the shower of an expensive hotel overseas, your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hand as he fucked your sore mouth on his length, twitching every time you held eye contact with him through your gags. You even managed to sneak him in your office, his tongue lapping you up from under the desk, hidden from the eyes of the businessman sat in front of you.
It went on like this for a while, before he showed up to your front door one time in the dead of the night, soaked from head to toe from the downpour descending outside.
or
Jay wants you for himself more than he would ever dare to admit, but knows all you're in for is a bit of forbidden fun.
738 notes · View notes
theemporium · 8 months
Note
just a little idea for a wee smut blurb:
lando getting to fuck you without a condom for the first time and him just being so overwhelmed by the feeling 😩
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
Lando Norris was a pretty guy.
There were plenty of words to compliment his looks. He was beautiful when he smiled, those big smiles that take over his face and make his eyes crinkle. He was hot, especially in the relentless photo dumps he posted innocently like he didn’t know what they did to people. He was handsome, all dressed up in those suits he wears to fancy events that fit him like a glove. He was gorgeous, especially when he climbed out of the car after a good race and threw himself onto his team.
But your favourite word to describe your boyfriend was pretty.
And, fuck, you didn’t think he ever looked as pretty as he does right now.
He was above you, one arm supporting his body weight and the other squeezing your hip as his thumb traced over your skin. His curls were a mess from you running your hands through it, his cheeks were flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. But it was his eyes.
It was his eyes that fucking got you.
Wide and glossy and eager and so full of emotion as he slid into you, as he guided his cock inside you—no barriers, nothing. Just him and you and, fuck, it just felt so overwhelming.
“Fuck,” it was a low and guttural groan as he pushed inside, as he felt your walls squeeze aroukd every inch of him until your hips were pressed together.
And then you clenched around him and he fucking whined.
“Shit, baby, that feels—” A choked noise left his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good. Fuck, we can’t ever go back. Never again.”
“Lando—”
“God, baby,” and he was rambling now, you knew as much. But you couldn’t help but let his words wash over you, your stomach twisting in desire as his head dropped to your shoulder as he pressed one, two, three kisses against your skin. “Feel fucking perfect, like fucking heaven.”
The noise that left your lips sounded like something straight out of a porno as he pulled out, feeling every inch of his cock slide out before he thrusted back in with a noise of appreciation.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up,” he groaned against your neck, his hips moving as his hand moved down, wrapping around your knee and hooking your leg over his waist as he continued to fuck you deeper. “Best fucking thing you’ve ever let me do, baby.”
“Oh shit,” you whined, your nails digging into the skin of his back as he let out a hiss. “Lando—”
“Atta girl,” he groaned, each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips. “Say my fucking name for me, baby. Want everyone to hear who’s fucking you.”
.
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starsinthesky5 · 2 months
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blondes do it better || joe burrow x reader
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description: a little morning moment before the first day of training camp 
a/n: look at me writing a bleach buzz joe fic LMAO. this is a little something i wrote for you all (very unplanned) inspired by today’s content and with some help from my anons and @joeys-babe! enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
warnings: language, smut (a little BJ moment, nothing crazy)
--------------------------------
July 24th, 2024
Sunlight slowly peeked through the curtains of your bedroom as you looked over at the alarm clock, the time reading 5:30 AM. Normally, you wouldn’t be up this early in the morning but considering today was the first day of Bengals Training Camp, you wanted to squeeze in some 1 on 1 time with Joe before he had to get up and leave. His alarm would go off in about half an hour, so you were determined to get in all your cuddles and kisses that you’d miss the entire day. It was amazing having Joe around more this first half of the year, even though the reason for it wasn’t particularly good. 
You both made the most of the extended time you had together with various trips and vacations (joe finally getting a proper tan this year because of how much sun you both had been absorbing) and joining Joe on his new ventures such as Paris Fashion Week & speaking at events in Cannes, but now you both were ready for things to go back to normal. It was a nice few months of taking it easy and enjoying life a little more but normal for you both was football. It had been your normal since high school and you missed it. 
You looked over at Joe, watching his steady breathing and listening to his soft snores for a few moments before he started to move around; his natural body clock probably began waking him up before his alarm as usual. 
You moved your covers down and gently moved on top of Joe, placing one leg on either side of his hips as you moved your hair out of your face. You leaned down and started pressing lazy kisses along his jawline before you felt two hands grab your waist and pull you back up. 
“My favorite way of being woken up,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile.
“Morning, Quarterback,” you said as you rubbed the skin under his eyes.
“Morning, Y/N,” he mumbled, his sleepiness evident by his tone. “Any particular reason why you woke me up half an hour before my alarm?” he said, his eyebrow shooting up out of suspicion.
“Well, today’s the first day of camp and I won’t really get to see you a lot these next few days since you’re going to be locked in,” you said, your smile dropping. “I just wanted some ‘us’ time before you left,”.’
“Aw, is someone going to miss me,” Joe teased as he ran his hands up and down your sides.
Joe was expecting you to reply with some witty response, but all he got from you was silence and the image of your eyes getting glossy. 
“Hey, Hey. I’m just joking,” he said as his tone switched to concern.
“No, I know,” you said as you dropped your shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m being a baby about this since I practically shoved you out the door on the first day of OTA’s,” you laughed, your smile coming back at the memory. 
“OTA’s were the tip of the iceberg to be fair. Training Camp, then Pre-Season, and before you know it you’re out on the field week 1,” he sighed. “Really gotta focus now,”.
“It all happens so fast,” you nodded. “But that’s good since we thrive when there’s football consistently in our lives,”.
“Are you excited though?” you asked as you rubbed his chest with your palms.
“Absolutely. I feel really good and I can’t wait to see how it translates to the field. And I’m really looking forward to working with the younger guys,” he said.
“I just know they’re going to be so excited to get out there with you. You’ve always made everyone feel welcomed and seen, even in high school you did the same,” you smiled. 
Joe bit his lip and said, “I still can’t believe you’re not sick of this life. I mean you’ve been a football player’s girlfriend since high school and have dealt with so much shit over the years,”.
“I have no idea how or why you do it,” he said as he shook his head. Joe knew how much his life affected yours and he oftentimes felt bad with how much stuff you’ve had to deal with since you were teenagers. Even though he physically couldn’t live without you, he sometimes thought that you’d be better off without him for your own sake as your life would be drama-free with him out of the picture. 
Since you and Joe had been together since High School, you had quite literally been a part of his football journey since Day 1. As his popularity increased once he came into the NFL, the amount of things you dealt with increased too. Before the only football-related concerns you had were if Joe had eaten something after practice, did his homework, or studied for his tests so that he wouldn’t fall behind in school, and that your Friday nights were cleared so you could sit in the bleachers and watch him play. 
Now your football-related concerns were making sure Joe wasn’t pushing himself too hard at the risk of injury, making sure that he wasn’t hurt (even a bruise or bump) after a game, dealing with a plethora of comments and negativity about Joe (sometimes even yourself), and making sure that everything was good at home since that was the only place he could relax. It was a lot for you to deal with, mentally and physically, and sometimes you even wondered if it was all worth it. Football life was like a rollercoaster, really high moments that made everything so much more exciting and really low moments that made you feel like you hit a brick wall.
But when you looked at Joe, you remembered why you did it and what all this was truly worth. It was worth it because you had the best possible person by your side and you two had built a life together which was a little chaotic, but incredibly fulfilling and filled with a kind of love you couldn’t put into words. You wouldn’t trade anything for this, no matter how rough it got. You’d never give this up. 
“You,” you smiled. “You’re the reason I do it. Because you are the single most important person in my life and I love you,” you add as you lean down to kiss him, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he melts against your soft lips. 
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he grinned as he pulled away from your lips. 
“And you won’t have to know since I’m not going anywhere,” you smiled as you moved your left hand to his view, showing off the very beautiful and very new engagement ring he put on your ring finger. 
“I love you,” he said as he pecked your lips a few times. 
You smiled against his lips before coming back up, one of his hands settling on your hips again while the other moved to the top of his head, a laugh escaping your lips as you watched him attempt to run his fingers through his hair.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked with a little laugh.
“Your hair,” you laughed, this time even harder as you had a funny thought pop up in your head. “I still cannot believe you did that,”.
Flashback to a few days ago 
You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your favorite shopping app as you were doing some retail therapy to brighten your mood after having an awful migraine earlier, and were waiting for Joe to get home after his routine hair trim. 
You heard the garage door open, not bothering to turn around since you knew it was Joe. You listened to him move around the kitchen, probably trying to see what was for dinner before you heard his footsteps getting closer to the couch.
You put your iPad to the side, closed your eyes, and tilted your head up, anticipating a kiss from Joe.
“Hey,” he said, bending over against the back of the couch to kiss you.
“Hi,” you smiled, your eyes still closed as you were anticipating one more kiss, which you anticipated correctly. You then opened your eyes, expecting to be met with a freshly trimmed Joe, but instead, your eyes widened and your mouth fell open.
“AHH!” you screamed as you jumped off the couch, your blanket flying off your body at your jumbled movement. 
“What?” Joe asked, his eyes widening and feeling incredibly confused.
“Your HAIR,” you screamed as you ran back over to the couch, kneeling on it and grabbing his head. “What the fuck happened to your hair,” you said as you brushed your hands over the spikey buzzcut that was bleached platinum blonde. 
“Surprise,” he laughed as he grabbed your wrists and lowered them. “You like it? I got bored and felt like changing it up,”.
“Changing it up is getting a different kind of fade on the sides or something. Your hair is gone,” you laughed in amusement, your brain not registering the fact that his hair was practically gone and whatever was left was the color of a snowball. “And you didn’t even tell me,” you scoffed. 
“Gotta keep everyone on their toes. Even my beautiful fiancee,” he winked. “Besides, it feels kind of symbolic in a way? Like letting go of everything that happened last season and turning a new page,”. 
“See that’s the reasoning I can get behind, not the ‘I was Bored’ excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“But do you like it?” he asked again.
You looked at him carefully for a few seconds, assessing the new look he had. Well, it wasn’t all new. “I’m getting major deja vu right now from the blonde even though this is a bit more platinum than high school,” recalling his original blonde look during your high school days. 
“Yeah?” he laughed.
“Blondes definitely do it better from what I can recall from our adolescence,” you winked, remembering all those times you’d sneak away with Joe for a quick moment before he had practice or after a game. Even back then you couldn’t contain yourself around each other, just one flash of those signature bedroom eyes and you were both sneaking back to his car. 
“God, do you remember all those times we’d sneak away during practice? I’m surprised we never got caught,” he laughed.
“That blonde hair woke something up inside of me,” you sighed. “I remember coming home after one of the games with a limp and my parents thought I fell or something,” you said as you covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment. 
“Damn, we really haven’t changed since high school have we?” he said, biting his lip. 
“Not one bit,” you shook your head. “I do like that you’re channeling some of that Athens luck for this season since you dyed it when we won the district championship. This is def a manifestation tactic,” you said as you cupped his face and turned his head to the side to get a good look at the hair again. 
“Keep talking,” he said as he leaned in more, a sheepish grin on his face. 
“The buzzcut may take a bit of getting used to,” you say as he nods in agreement. 
“The blonde does help make it not look super ‘fresh out of jail-y’ though,” you chuckle as you watch him eagerly waiting for your opinion, an adorable smile on his face as he looks at you with all the love in the world. 
“But, I will say,” you say as you give him a slow once-over, the increased muscle on his body, his tan skin, and now this bleached buzzcut which you were honestly loving, was making him even hotter than he was ever before which you thought was impossible. “You still look as hot as ever and I would still drop to my knees at any given moment,” you said, leaning in even closer so that you were just inches from his lips. 
“Really?” he smirked.
“Mhmmm. Welcome back Slim Shady, I’ve missed you,” you said as you felt Joe reach out and grab you, easily throwing you over his shoulders.
“Joe,” you laughed, not even a single bit surprised since he manhandled you like this quite often. “Put me downnnn,”.
“Nope,” he said as he walked over to the stairs leading upstairs. “We gotta make sure that blondes still do it better. The last time I was blonde was over 5 years ago,” he said as he patted your ass.
“And what if they don’t?” you grin. “You gonna wash it out?”.
“Hmm, I think I’ll try Orange hair if that’s the case,” he joked while he walked up the stairs with you hanging off his shoulder. “It fits the team aesthetic too and gingers are known to be wild and crazy. One can only imagine how that translates to the bedroom”. 
Your mouth fell open, “Um, absolutely not!” you yelled as he walked into the bedroom, his laughter filling the room as you went on about how you forbid him from doing anything else to his hair as it was sad enough that you couldn’t pull on the strands or twirl your fingers through them during the activity that was about to happen once he laid you down on the bed. 
End of Flashback 
“You look like an egg,” you added as you continued to laugh at him, his smile turning into a grimace. 
“An egg? Wow,” he scoffed as he pretended to be offended by the comment.
“A very hot, sexy, delicious egg,” you said as you leaned down again and started pressing kisses to his neck, his frown slowly turning back into a smile as you showered him with kisses, unknowingly grinding against his crotch while you were at it and you didn’t notice until you felt him grip your waist tighter and a hardness prodding underneath you.
You immediately pulled away, trying to prevent that from happening because you knew that today was a big day for him and this was not the way to start it off. 
“Y/N, come on,” he sighed. “A quickie won’t hurt,”.
“Absolutely not. It’s the first day of camp, I can’t send you out there already tired and slightly worked out,” you said as you crossed your arms. 
“Please,” he pleaded with that adorable pout that always made you cave. “You can be on top,”.
“Nope,” you shook your head. “You always say that I can do all the work but you end up doing most of it anyway,”.
“I won’t this time, I swear,” he blinked. 
You bit your lip as you thought about it for a few moments. You felt bad about leaving him hanging but you also didn’t want to make him use his energy on this when he could be using it on the field. 
You took a deep breath and said, “Okay, we can compromise,”. 
“I’m listening,” he said as he moved his hands to your thighs.
“I’ll give you some super sloppy world-class head and then we can finish this after practice if you’re not too tired,” you offered. 
He stared into your beautiful eyes for a few seconds before smiling, “Deal,”.
You immediately leaned down and captured his lips in a messy kiss before moving down his body, kissing his chest through his t-shirt as you got a glimpse of the clock, noticing that you didn’t have a lot of time before his alarm went off.
“Shit, gotta make this quick,” you mumbled as you moved further down his body.
You quickly pulled his shorts down and then his boxers, allowing his erect cock to spring out, precum pooling at the tip. You grabbed his erection, giving him a few pumps before sliding your tongue down the side, Joe’s hips jerking at the contact. 
“Settle down,” you softly reminded him as you looked up.
Your lips parted around his cock as you slowly twirled your tongue around the tip, moving down the length of his shaft inch by inch. You heard Joe groan before feeling his hand on the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he struggled to hold in his moans.
“F-Fuck,” he moaned as you slid all the way down, his tip hitting the back of your throat which made you shudder. 
You then released him from your mouth, pumping his cock a few more times before leaning down again, sucking and licking your way down his shaft. You began to bob your head up and down his length, sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as you started to send him to heaven. 
“Jesus, Baby, You feel so good,” he groaned as he gently pushed your head further down. You wrapped one of your hands around him, jerking him off with your hand as you continued to suck him off, your eyes watering at the pressure you were feeling but also the pleasure. 
You looked up at him, making direct eye contact as you continued to suck him off which you knew drove him crazy. You watched as he threw his head back against the pillow as a result of your fingers gently playing with his balls, his grip on your hair getting tighter as the sounds coming from his lips got louder. You could tell that he was inching closer to his release by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” he moaned as he jerked his hips again, which made you stop. 
“Baby, please,” he panted as he watched you come back up.
“Stop moving your hips so much,” you laughed you went back to pumping his cock with your hand, once again leaning down and twirling your tongue around the head before taking him in your mouth, this time setting a hungry pace as you knew he was close. Your manicured nails dug into his thighs as you tried to keep yourself together, the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat sending you to the point of tears. 
A few moments later, you felt him twitch inside your mouth again, this time feeling hot spurts of his cum fill your mouth as you slowed down your movements, whimpers and moans leaving Joe’s lips as you looked up and watched his heaving chest, and closed eyes. 
“Y/N..” he whispered. 
You released him from your mouth, swallowing every last bit of his cum and lapping at his dick to make sure you did, before moving off of him and pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You wiped your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before lying back down next to him, pressing a few gentle kisses to his cheek as he came down from his high. 
“Better now?” you asked him when he turned his head to meet your eyes.
“You’re the best,” he said, giving you a lazy smile. “I feel bad for leaving you hanging though,”.
“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I can have some solo fun with the shower head when you’re gone,” you teased, his mouth dropping at the words you just said.
“Kiddinggg,” you laughed as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll wait for you to come back; if you’re not too tired obviously,”.
He moved his hand to the back of your head, playing with your hair before gently sliding it down to your neck as he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to save some energy for you,”.
“Thanks, Slim Shiesty,” you teased.
“W- What did you just call me?” Joe asked as he pulled your head from his neck.
“Slim Shiesty,” you smiled. “It’s only fitting after you did this,” you chuckled as you rubbed the top of his blonde head.
“I forgot how many Eminem references I’ll be getting from now on,” he whined.
“I cannot wait to see the internet write think pieces about your new hair,” you giggled.
“God, and I forgot that I owe the entire world an explanation for every move I make,” he groaned. 
“Just tell them what you told me,” you smiled. “You needed a fresh start and you got bored,”.
“They’re still going to be writing think pieces even if I say that,” he said, pursing his lips. 
“You’re right,” you agreed. “Then tell them you did it because your fiancee said blondes do it better and that you wanted to please me,” you joked. 
“You know, I just might,” he laughed. 
“This time I won’t even mind getting hate comments from some of your fans. Blonde Buzz Burrow is def something else and I’m going to enjoy every single moment I have with him even if some girls on the internet say they hate it,” you said before you leaned in for another kiss. 
“The only opinion I care about is yours,” he said before pecking your soft lips again. 
“And I love it, even if you sometimes look like an egg or a snowball,” you teased. “You’re still the same panty-dropping, sex-on-legs, gorgeous man that I fell in love with when I was 16,”. 
“I love you,” he grinned again before closing in on your lips for another kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as you threw your leg over his and moved closer to him, only for the sound of his alarm to interrupt you both.
He pulled away and turned it off, a sigh leaving his lips as he knew he had to get up. “As much as I’d love to keep this going..”.
“I know, I know. Football time,” you grinned as you sat up, Joe doing the same while he rubbed his eyes. “Before you get up to shower, I wanted to tell you something,” you said to him, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers.
“What?” he asked you. 
“I wanted to tell you that I am so beyond proud of how far you’ve come since last November. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy and definitely wasn’t going to be enjoyable, but you really pushed through even though everything was stacked against you. Not many people are capable of doing all of this while the entire world is practically screaming ‘you suck and are overrated’ in their faces and the fact that you recovered from the wrist injury so well and are on track to coming out the other side better than how you went in is insane. And the fact that while recovering you did all this new stuff like fashion week which you'd never thought you'd ever do before is crazy and you killed that too even though it's not your thing. You truly are one of a kind,” you said to him. "Oh my god, and this," you said as you picked up your left hand and motioned at the ring. "You knew that I didn't care when this happened but the fact that you did this whole thing at the same time while dealing with all this shit should be enough to hand you the MVP award,".
“You always kill anything and everything you put your mind to. Whether it be football, your career outside of football, or our relationship, you always do so good at everything. I can’t wait to see you tear it up out there and start the next chapter of your story,” you added. 
Joe’s heart fluttered at your feelings; a big part of why he was able to push through was you. You were like a storm shelter for him in the hurricane that was his life. You kept him comfortable, and safe from his own negative thoughts and made sure that he didn’t drown. 
He pulls you in for a hug, stuffing his face in your neck as you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything on this earth,” he said in your ear. “Thank you for sticking by my side,”.
“I love you too, forever and always,” you said as held onto him for a few heartbeats, not wanting to let go, but eventually doing so since he couldn’t be late. 
“Now, go knock ‘em dead and give them something to talk about Slim Shiesty,” you smiled as you pulled away.
“You got it,” he kissed your cheek and got up from the bed, a bounce in his step as he walked into the bathroom. 
“Blondes may do it better, but he does everything better regardless,” you smile to yourself. 
–The End–
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thevelvetvampyre · 3 months
Text
The Dinner Party - Cillian Murphy x Reader
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Summary: Cillian can’t wait any longer to fuck his friends daughter after finally seeing her now that she’s legal
Warnings; age gap, riding, fingering, p in v, oral (fem receive), he’s a giver, sneaky and a creeper, met when reader was underage but like a good boy he waited, affair / cheating, general smut and adult content + alcohol / intoxicated behaviour.
(ALSO ONE USE OF Y/N I LOVE IMAGINING HIM SPEAKING TO READER DIRECTLY and I feel like he’s just one to use a girls name when speaking to them anyways)
Notes: sorry I haven’t been active, I’ve been fucking my boss lol (proudly, I am not joking) + I wrote this ages ago so it may be horrible xox
─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───
The dinner party was coming to a close, broken champagne glasses splattered shards over the linen covered table as the candles had burnt to a crisp and the wick began puffing black. Most importantly, the guests were heaving the thick scent of alcohol which filled your fathers living room with dancing, laughing and kisses being shared between people they’d cringe over the morning to come.
“Come on! Just a dip.”
Your best friend has drunkly jumped into your swimming pool fully clothed, the cool water up to her chest as she stayed eager to persuade you in with her.
The heat of the drink in your hand had spread across you and left you smiling stupid at her antics, huffing as you chugged the remainder of the convincing liquid down your throat and placing the glass on the table next to you.
“Fine! Fine… just for a while.”
Your words sounded tired but your happiness and excitement was evident, pulling the bottom of your dress up over your head and leaving you bare in your bra and panties.
Squeaking in excitement she twirled in the water, screaming praises about the way your body looked and how ‘sexy’ you were when you were so bare.
Jumping into the pool, the blurred noises had filled your ears and your skin lathered in bumps to the contact of the cold.
“Isn’t tonight so beautiful.”
You raised from the water to see her floating on her back stargazing, the start of summer was like crack to her and you could only find it addictive yourself.
As the pair of you giggled, floated and embraced in the water, spluttering out sentences of admiration to your friendship, the pounding of the indie music inside had become clearer as the patio door swiped open and your parents, plus a couple of their friends, made their way stumbling and laughing to themselves.
“Are you ladies okay?”
Your dad screamed over the thumping drums, breaking your attention away from each other and looking at him.
“Hell yeah!”
You screamed and threw your arms up, your best friend following suit with a squeal herself.
“Love to hear it honey!”
Your eyes pulled from your dad who swayed with the largest grin you’d ever seen and landed on his friend, Cillian.
He stood there as your eyes met and his smirk became increasingly evident under the blue moonlight. Lifting his hand that held the beer, he threw you a cheers as his gaze dropped to your exposed body hidden beneath the turquoise blue that transparently hid your frame.
Whether it was the sting of the cold liquid you’d submerged yourself in or the lust in his glance, the chills that snuck up your spine sent a shiver to your core.
You’d met the man once, this time last year actually. You of course knew who he was from the impressive array of movies he’d starred in and you were thrilled to hear your father had befriended the man at a PR event. Striking up a close friendship exceptionally fast with the actor, he was soon invited to one of the beautiful, lavish dinner parties your dad hosted once every year.
You were only 17, but my god was he gorgeous. The smell of his masculine musk that surrounded you, his firm grip on your delicate hand as he introduced himself as a stranger, those piercing baby blue iris’s that undressed you slowly in front of your parents.
No- no, of course he didn’t mean to look at you like that. Of course his eyes didn’t fall from yours to your plush lips, admiring how soft and kissable they were. Of course they didn’t soon fall to your perked tits and felt his cock thicken as he imagined how soft they were to squeeze. And of course, he didn’t watch the way your hips moved you along the marbled floor as he imagined himself biting into your silky thighs as they wrapped around his head.
He was married after all, and he was who he was. A gorgeous, talented, Hollywood actor who would have absolutely no interest in a girl less than half his age with all his glitzy awards and a wife who could please him in ways you had yet to learn.
But oh, you were wrong.
From the moment he laid eyes on you, you possessed his thoughts which soon spread to his palm as he fisted himself to the mental picture of you in his head. The way your lashes batted and your teeth dug into your lips, the furrow of your brows as you listened to whoever was speaking at the table and the pull of your lips as they spurred out drunken words.
With each step he took out of his home he’d excite himself with the thought he may bump into you, joke about what a coincidence it was to see you in public and ask you how you’ve been.
You were in the corner of his mind, the hallucination in his sheets and the ghost that crept around each promising corner.
You haunted him. You were the coffee he drank, the scripts he read, the women he fucked and the air he breathed.
A year later, here you were, intoxicatingly half naked in your own pool and finally legal.
Like a corpse that revived from the dead, you were deathly beautiful and his haunting desires had manifested in front of his very eyes.
You send him a smirk that expressed pages of expressionless desires that had too, haunted you.
“Right… who’s feeling one more?”
Your father exclaimed as he shot down the last of his beer and raised the glass.
His friends cheered loudly as they threw their arms up and tripped over seemingly nothing back into the house. Cillian’s eyes had remained on yours as they darkened, clenching his jaw through his arousal and cocking his brows up before slowly turning around and following the group inside.
For the next hour you stayed basking in the moon with your best friend, exhausting yourselves with laughter and dancing in the pool that soon brought you to tiredness.
“Thank you for coming tonight.”
You smiled appreciatively at her, sighing out as you held your sore stomach from the stitch that had pierced your lungs.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She pulled you in for one more hug before you swam to the corner of the pool, cursing at the lack of towels to cover you from shivering in the cold summer air.
“Dad!”
You screamed, repeatedly.
Of course, no response as the music had grown louder- if that was even possible, and most definitely impaired him from hearing your desperate screams.
Oh fuck it.
You pulled yourself up from the pool and grabbed your dry dress, wrapping the material around you the best you could.
“Stay here- I’ll get us towels.”
You pulled open the door and immediately got hit with the smell of whiskey, the pounding of the music and the lack of lighting that explained the mass amounts of broken glass on the countertops and floors.
Sneaking through the walls, you almost made it to the living room when the sound of a man clearing his throat caused you to snap your neck into the kitchen.
There he was, leaning against the counter with that god forsaken smirk he glared at you and his eyes amused at the state you were in.
“Having fun out there?”
Cillian brought the tip of his bottle to his lips, swinging it back as his gaze dropped to your dripping body.
His cock swelled in his pants, admiring how delicious you looked when you were wet.
“Yes, Mr.Murphy.”
You said sweetly, turning your full posture to him and grinning shyly at his question.
“Hm… looks like it.”
His lips parted as his gaze was hot and obvious, leaking arousal out your cunt as he licked his bottom lip at the sight of you.
“You look stunning Y/N.”
His voice was low and quiet as he complimented you, your blush pricking your chest as your pussy clenched around nothing. You dropped your head down as your grin grew to avoid is lustful gaze as his intimidating presence was growing unbearable.
“Oh come on… don’t get s’shy on me now.”
His voice was soothing as he babied you, leaving the counter to slowly walk over you as he dropped his neck to meet your low gaze.
Before you got the chance to respond, your father had barged in and greeted you with a loud welcome.
“Hey! Don’t try courting my angel…”
Your dad had turned to Cillian, raising his voice and finger to point at him in a joking manner.
“Eyes off!”
Cillian chuckled as he pulled his gaze off your dripping tits, cock now painfully erect as he decided then and there he needed you. Brushing past you as he walked through you and your father, the skin of his arm grazed yours and you shivered at the contact.
-
Your best friend had eventually left and so did the rest of the party, a few members having to stay overnight in an attempt to avoid the danger of the road at this time in their intoxicated state.
You sat wet in your bedroom, heart pounding as you repeated his compliment in your head and smirking at just how smooth and silky his voice was when he purred it to you.
Standing up, dropping your towel and pushing into your bathroom, you didn’t bother to close the door fully as your tile walls filled with warm steam.
Lathering your exposed, erect nipples in your body wash and rubbing your soapy palms across your body, you were lost in the thought of him as you bathed and cleared your scent of the chlorine.
Unbeknownst to you, Cillian was one of the guests who stayed. With your parents in their bed and everyone else passed out, he sneaked up the stairs on the edge of his toes and leant against the large wooden frame that kept you safe from him. Placing his ear on the wooden door his wet bottom lip dropped open as he listened carefully to the noise of movement inside.
With his palm pressed next to him, his smirk returned as he heard the dripping of your shower head and snaked his other hand onto the doorknob.
Quietly twisting his wrist to open the door, he winced at the squeak and stopped breathing as his heart thumped in his chest at his actions. From the subconscious alert that maybe sneaking into an 18 year olds bedroom wasn’t morally accepted? Especially as an older married man? No, of course not. His heart thumped in fear that he would get caught. That if anyone was to see him now, he couldn’t have you as he needed you tonight.
Breathing heavily as the coast was seemingly clear, he slowly pressed into the door and snuck in through the small crack. Swiftly turning around and pressing his weight above the handle, he quietly pushed it shut and sighed out a relieved huff at his successful entry into your bedroom.
Twisting his neck to the crack in your bathroom door, the corner of his lips curled as he made his way to the beam of light that poured out your bathroom.
Continuing to grin through the alcohol and your arousal of the slight contact you had with him earlier, your skin was warm as the water caressed you. The sweet smell of your soap had intoxicated the room, Cillian rolling his eyes at how your scent was just as addictive as he remembered.
Placing an eye through the gap in the frame, he salivated at how oblivious you were to him, how vulnerable you looked when you were stripped completely and how he could’ve stormed in and forced his thick, throbbing cock into your cunt right then and there.
He watched as the suds ran over your tits, onto your stomach and down your thighs. His veins pulsed through him and his jaw clenched, furrowing his brows and dropping his wet bottom lip at he watched you run your hands over your naked body.
He was growing needy, the tent in his pants poking towards you and thumping under the constraint of the material. He groaned under his breath as he watched you innocently touch yourself, reaching to every crevice of your body that he wanted to lick clean with his own mouth.
Admiring you in an agonising arousal for a few more seconds before you turned the water off, his eyes widened and he stepped back, swiftly but quietly making his way to your bed before sitting down and leaning back onto his wrists.
Stepping out the shower, you reached for your baby pink towel and wrapped it around your body, looking at your blush skin in the mirror before giggling quietly to yourself and opening the door.
Pulling your gaze up from the ground, your throat closed and your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes met Cillian’s. Your mouth went dry and your breath breathlessly left out your lungs, a mix of confusion and excitement fuelling your feet to slowly walk you forward.
“Miss me?”
He said smirkily, his Irish accent laced with the alcohol he drank earlier and tilting his head as his eyes assaulted you.
“What are you doing here?”
Your whisper was sharp and blunt, your red skin burned purple as you noticed his thick cock pointing towards you.
He licked his lips, slowly pulling himself up from your bed and walking towards you. Stopping in front of you, he lifted his fingertips and grazed them down the side of your arms.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… have been onto you since last year.”
His voice was a low whisper as it was husky, the grazing of his nails on your skin sending goosebumps to your mound.
“Do ya… do ya think’f me too?”
His eyes met yours and his gaze softened as he poured his blue into you. An odd look of sincerity plastered his face as your cheeks grew warm to his contact.
“You’re married!”
Your whisper was a scream. He chuckled as his eyes fell to your chest, moving his hands to link his fingertips to the top of your towel and slowly unwrapping you from the cotton.
“That’s not what I asked.”
He growled as the towel pooled at the end of your body, standing frozen as his tongue grazed along this top lip. His eyes grew hungry as they ravished in how beautiful and exposed you were to him.
“Y-yes.”
You quietly admitted. A huff left his chest knowingly.
You wanted to cover yourself, feeling vulnerable to his gaze and suddenly insecure of what he’d think of your naked self. Raising your arms subconsciously you covered your midriff, he grunted as his fingers grasped at your forearms to stop you.
“Don’t…”
His desperation was evident, grunting through his words as he stared at you like a raw piece of meat, twitching closer to you with each second passing to close to gap between you.
“need to see you, I’ve waited so long.”
He drooled out the last words, finally pulling his eyes up as his brows knitted and landed on yours.
Staring into his eyes longingly, you pushed yourself forward for your lips to land on his. Now starving, he breathed heavily as his palm grabbed the back of your head to press you harder into the kiss.
Quiet, soft moans left your lips into his mouth as he whimpered shyly at your kiss, his mouth opening wider to force his tongue into yours. Accepting into the kiss and moving your head to twirl your tongue around his, he grabbed at your waist and started to pull you back towards your bed.
Unable to get close enough, he pulls you tighter against his torso as his lips press and pull against yours, wetting your mouth as he whined and grasped at your sides desperately.
Finally feeling your mattress at the back of him he sat down as he continued to knead your waist, shimmering back onto the bed and pulling you on top of him.
As the kisses grew aggressive, he flipped you under him and your back landed against the soft, plush blanket and he pulled back to gaze at your equally frazzled state. His eyes dazed and lips swollen, he stared at you through furrowed brows as he caught his breath.
“Need you…”
He whined, beginning to kiss the crook of your neck as he grazed your skin against his teeth.
“Need you so bad.”
His voice was crying as he pulled back, kissing lower and lower on your bare body and leaving a wet trail.
“Cillian- please!”
You moaned softly with your impatience evident, desperate to feel his mouth on your mound as his hot breath fanned your lower stomach.
He chuckled as he dropped his lower half off the bed, his knees banging against the floor as his forearms wrapped around your thighs.
Pulling you with ease so your cunt nearly hung off the bed, he bit marks with his teeth into your fleshy thighs and groaned around the kisses.
“Bet this cunt tastes so good.”
His voice continued to grow whiner, breaking his desperate kisses apart as he praised you.
“So fucking good.”
Planting more kisses as he was getting teasingly closer to your dripping hole, you began clenching both your thighs and walls in an attempt to push him closer.
“Fuck- I need you!”
Your words came out exasperated and he chuckled.
“Yeah?”
He gazed up at you, cocking his brows and licking his lower lip.
“Yes, god-please… please!”
Your fingers wrapped around his hair and your back arched, your cunt pulsating to finally feel him after waiting for so long.
Within a second his hot mouth was on your mound, lapping his wet tongue to taste how wet you’ve gotten from his teasing.
“Oh god- fuck…”
He pulled apart for a split second.
“You’re soaked.”
Attaching his lips once more, he began hungrily eating at you as your hips twitched beneath him.
Holding you firm in place as his tongue traced from your hole to your clit, your back arched as he quickened his pace and you couldn’t help but whimper under his touch.
“Yes-yes! Right there!”
Groaning in response, his tongue slipped into your cunt and fucked you fast, groaning at how sweet your pussy leaked onto his mouth.
As you squirmed and wiggled beneath him, he dug his nails into your skin and moved his head in synch to your attempted escape from his tongue.
Moving his tongue to your clit once more, he traced figure eights and removed his right hand, placing two fingers at your entrance he began circling teasingly as the tips of his digits picked up your arousal.
Slowly pressing them into your hole, a gasp left your lips as you let go of his hair and grabbed the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turning white in an attempt to not wake anyone up with your muffled screaming.
“So tight baby…”
He removed his mouth from your mound and began curling his fingers mercilessly, your legs being to tremble as you felt your orgasm knot in inside of you.
Staring in awe at the way you shook to his fingers, he stared at you in a daze and admired the way you took your pleasure so well.
“Fuck! I’m cumming…I’m cumming”
Your words were fast and mumbled, the heat in your core overbearing and possessive of your limbs.
“That’s it…”
The knot in your stomach was growing painful, needing your release as you whined against your sheets and shook uncontrollably.
“That’s it.”
Your orgasm shook over you, causing you to convulse as he continued to finger fuck you through your climax.
“Such a pretty girl when you cum hm?”
His voice stayed low and you moaned and cursed through your shaking, grasping the sheets desperately as white noise filled your ears and stars appeared at the back of your head where your eyes rolled.
Slurring out his name as quietly as you could, the violence of your orgasm took over you as you continued to remind him of who made you feel this good.
Slowing down his fingers, he delicately pumped in and out of you as you came down from your high. Your chest heaved as you began reconnecting with reality and lowering your gaze to meet his starstruck glare.
Slowly dragging his fingers out, he placed them to his knuckles in his mouth and licked them clean.
“Taste s’good honey.”
Your cheeks pulsated a heat as your orgasm was powerful and overstimulating, staring at him lick his fingers clean.
“Mhm…”
You moaned out, the exhaustion of how hard you came made you unable to speak a coherent word. Slowly standing up as his knees wobbled, he stood over you in triumph and fell on top of you again.
His throbbing, veiny cock pressed against your leg and your cunt began salivating at the sensation of his arousal, gasping at how big he felt through his pants.
Kissing you with no hesitation once again with an open mouth, he flung you over so you were on top and your boobs hung below his face.
Continuing to kiss you needy, he grabbed your ass and began dry humping you through his jeans.
“Fuck- please.”
He panted through the kisses, whining quietly as his painful hard cock begged to fuck your tight walls.
“Needs- mhm- to feel you baby.”
You continued to rub your wet cunt over his constrained cock, sitting up with no time to spare you whipped his belt off and unzipped his awfully tight crotch.
Raising his hips to shift his jeans to his thighs, his underwear soon followed and his massive shaft was suddenly protruding into your mound.
“So big…”
You could only muster a slight compliment before automatically grinding on the underside of his cock.
“Who got you so hard, Mr.Murphy?”
Your head swung back as your clit was caressed with his leaking red tip.
“Hm?”
You looked back down to see his mouth dropped, his glazed eyes staring at where you were rubbing on him and a red flush that bruised over his knitted brows.
“You- fuck…”
His head lulled back, squeezing his eyes shut as his fingers grasped deep into your hips once more.
“You did.”
His groan vibrated through him, urging you to grab the base of him as you aligned his leaking tip to your soaking hole.
You began to drop your hips as he dipped into you, his neck pushing back more into the bed beneath him and his back slightly arching at the sensation of him breaching your tight cunt.
“Fuck…”
He groaned and elongated his word, snapping his eyes open and hazily looking down to watch as he entered you.
“So fucking tight… this cunts so fucking tight.”
He whined as he panted at the feeling of you continuing to sink down on him, small whimpers breathing out with each of his short breaths.
Swinging your head back at the size of him, you couldn’t help but whimper yourself as he felt so thick and warm inside of you.
“Oh yes… feels- oh- so good.”
You sunk all the way down, moaning with each inch that vanished into you.
Finally reaching his base, you snapped your hips back up so only his beady, white tip was left inside of you.
With no warning, you fell all the way down once more and continued to rock as he groaned to the feeling of his cock stretching you out.
Feeling each inch reach a deeper part inside of you until it hit your navel, your inner thighs dampened with a mixture of sweat and both of your arousals.
Rocking faster as you sped up the way you bounced on him, your room filled with wet slapping noises and his groans that vibrated around you.
A string of incoherent curse words and praises fell from his lips, his face scrunching to a look of pain as the vein in his neck bulged and his breath knocked out his chest.
“Oh yes… taking my cock so- oh fuck- well.”
He struggled to find a balance of basking in his pleasure and watching you ride him, swinging his neck up to watch and flex at the side of your tits bouncing so delicately and swinging his neck back to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried so hard to not cum already.
“Sh- slow down!”
He winced, tightly holding onto your sides as he attempted to pause your rhythm.
“Why?”
Your word slipped out with a moan, bouncing fast and pornographically as your ass slapped on his balls and your clit rubbed on his pubic bone.
“You don’t wanna fill my tight pussy up?”
His cock flexed hard at your words, a cry falling from his lips as he rolled his eyes and panted pathetically to try and stop his balls from spilling inside of you.
“Please-please…”
His voice became ten octave’s higher, squeaking as his hips twitched upwards to fuck you deeper than your own pussy could handle.
“Oh please… please cum for me.”
You bounced aggressively as his legs began trembling, his nails scaring your sides as your chest heated up with a sweat from your rocking.
“Oh fuck- fuck I’m cumming.”
His head swung up as he watched you smirk down at him, your own mouth open for your sweet moans to seep into his ears as you edged him on.
You felt his cock twitch not once, but three times as a warm liquid squirted out to coat the back of your walls.
You watched as he convulsed underneath you, shaking and wincing with the gleam of a tear rolling down his cheek.
His eyes were squeezed shut as his mouth was wet and open, his brows twitching in sync with his cock and his chest heaved breathlessly.
“Ah-ah…oh god.”
His winces were easy and liquid out of him, his hot cum dripping down his shaft as you continued to fuck him as he filled your cunt with his sticky arousal.
Your bounces slowed as his nails loosened their grip on your side, his heaving filled with whines and chokes, sobbing at the aggressive orgasm that spasmed him into filling you full.
Pulling him out of you as you raised yourself, you fell next to him in a sweat and caught your own breath, proud of making the actor cum as hard as he did.
Laying limp for a couple of minutes with the smell of sweat and sex filling your room, the pair of you stared up at your ceiling as you caught your breath. Turning his head to face you, he blinked in a dazed gaze as he admired how pretty you were in the moonlight.
“You’ve been haunting me- y’know that?”
You turn to him and give him a smirk.
“Couldn’t stop thinking of- mhm- how good you’d feel.”
He pulled his pants on and fumbled to buckle himself back into his clothing.
“Yeah?”
You smiled in accomplishment.
“Couldn’t stop thinking of you either.”
You turned your head back up to the ceiling, the pang of guilt in your chest as your thoughts flashed of his lovely wife at home.
“What about your wife?”
You asked quietly, earning a chuckle from him as he sat up properly.
“Don’t worry about it…”
He turned to look at you laying lifeless on your bed, your eyes meeting his as you couldn’t help but blush at how gorgeous he looked, even after filling you so well.
“Can’t stand her anyways.”
He huffed out and rubbed his thighs, sighing deeply as he stood up and slowly walked towards your door.
Confused at his statement and how fast he was leaving, you sat up on your elbows and furrowed your brows in confusion to his fast arrival and even faster departure.
“Will I see you again?”
You felt pathetic asking, watching him walk away feeling used after he made a mess of your insides and bedsheet.
He grabbed the doorknob and turned to look at you, smirking as he cocked his head in amusement to your question.
“You’re everywhere I go honey…”
He turned the doorknob and it squeaked quietly.
“You’ll see me soon enough.”
Without hesitation or another look back at you, he slipped out your door and left you feeling just as naked as he did when he arrived.
Huffing out and laying back onto your bed, a knot of anxiety built as the guilt of your actions took over you. He’s done this before, and he’ll do it again.
617 notes · View notes
velarisdusk · 1 month
Text
Cursed Flame
Eris Vanserra x Reader
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word count: 8k
content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, rough sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), biting, oral fixation, enemies to lovers (as much lovers as I could fit into an 8k fic) | mentions of: blood, attempted murder via witch curse | strong language ]
summary: When Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, stumbles into a healer's shop under a mysterious curse, it sets off a chain of events neither could have anticipated. As the skilled healer works to unravel the dark magic threatening his life, tension and attraction crackle between them.
author's note: SO EXCITED FOR YALL TO READ THIS ONE!!!!!!! i received this ask a bit ago and i couldn't wait to write it. i hope you all enjoy! as per usual, no beta, so if you see any typos no you didnt
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The shop is a warm refuge in the heart of the Autumn Court, its walls painted a calming sage green and lined with shelves filled with jars of dried herbs and roots. Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting soft, golden light on a thick, woven rug. The scent of lavender and rosemary lingers in the air, mingling with the quiet crackle of a low fire in the hearth.
You move methodically around the shop, stocking freshly dried herbs on the shelves. Your fingers brush over the labels, ensuring everything is in its place. The rhythmic work is soothing—a welcome distraction.
Reaching up to place a jar on the top shelf, you're caught off guard when the door suddenly slams open. The force of it startles you, and you instinctively drop the pendant of your necklace from your mouth as you spin around to face the intruder.
Eris Vanserra stands in the doorway, his usually pristine appearance disheveled, his skin pale and lips tinged with an unhealthy shade of blue. He looks unwell — like something is gnawing away at him from the inside out.
“Looking a little paler than usual,” you murmur, your tone caught between concern and the dry sarcasm that usually colors your interactions with him. But even as you speak, you’re already moving toward him, instinctively assessing his condition. Grabbing your tools, you hurry to where Eris has collapsed into the armchair by the hearth.
“What happened?” you ask, scanning him for visible injuries but finding none. “When did this start?”
Eris leans back, his breathing labored, and then he coughs violently, a splatter of blood staining his hand. He looks at it with shock and frustration.
“Tell me everything,” you demand, already rifling through your supplies for anything that could help diagnose whatever this is. “What did you eat? Drink? Did you come into contact with anything unusual?”
His eyes narrow in irritation as you continue to probe. “Why does it matter? Just heal me and I’ll be on my way.”
You give him an incredulous look, stunned by the sheer stupidity of his question. 
“What…? Mother above- if you want me to help, I need to know what’s causing this. Did you encounter any dark magic?”
You move to check his pulse, frowning at the erratic rhythm and his lack of response. “If you’re going to be like that, just go to your family’s healer,” you mutter, not bothering to hide your irritation. You place the back of your hand on his forehead, noting the strange combination of cool skin and unnatural heat radiating from his chest.
“Do you think I’m here because I’d like to be?” Eris snaps, coughing again, though this time with less blood.
You ignore his tone, turning your attention to the herbs and ingredients at your disposal. After a few minutes of methodically preparing and steeping the herbs, you hand him a steaming cup. “Drink this,” you instruct.
He takes the cup but eyed it skeptically. “What is it?”
“It’ll react if there’s poison in your system,” you explain, your tone firm as you watch him closely, waiting. 
He lifts the cup reluctantly, sipping as you hover your hands over his chest, closing your eyes to focus on sensing any magical disturbances. “Why can’t you see your family’s healer?” you ask, murmuring a chant under your breath as you work.
“He’s busy,” Eris replies tightly, though his expression suggests there’s more to the story.
You press your lips together as you complete your chant, waiting for any sign of magic—an aura, a pulse of energy, anything. But there’s nothing. Frustration wells up, and you move to the shelves, selecting a vial of a potent potion that reveals the presence of dark spells. You hand it to him, but before you can tell him to wait, he lifts the vial to his lips. 
“Wait—” you start, but it’s too late. He drinks the contents of the vial, grimacing at the taste as he swallows. 
The dark tendrils of the potion begin to swirl beneath his skin, their movement barely noticeable through the fabric of his shirt. Panic surges through you, and without thinking, you reach forward and rip open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. 
Eris recoils slightly, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “Do you have any idea how much that shirt costs? More than you make in a month, I’d wager.”
You shoot him a sharp glare, not bothering to hide your exasperation. “Definitely not as much as making that potion cost me,” you retort, focusing on the dark tendrils now clearly visible beneath his skin. The potion is reacting to something, though it’s still not enough to fully reveal what’s wrong. 
Eris glares at you, but before he can respond, another wave of pain hits him, forcing a troubling series of coughs out of him. This time, blood stains his lips, and the dark tendrils pulse ominously with the movement. 
Ignoring his earlier complaint, you press your hand against his chest, feeling the unnatural heat beneath your fingertips. The tendrils shift and twist just beneath the surface of his skin as if something dark is trying to break free. “Are you usually this hot?” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, as you watch the tendrils fade back into nothingness.
Eris’s lips curve into a smirk, despite his condition. “I wasn’t aware you found me so irresistible,” he drawls, his tone laced with that familiar cocky arrogance.
You roll your eyes, not even dignifying his comment with a response, refocusing on the task at hand.
With a sigh, you grab the vial from him and set it aside, biting your thumbnail as you wrack your brain for ideas. You decide to turn to a more traditional method. “Stand up,” you instruct, grabbing a fresh egg from a small basket. Eris raises an eyebrow, but you don’t give him a chance to question it. “I’m going to perform an egg cleanse. It’s an old method, but it’s effective for detecting curses.”
He complies, albeit reluctantly, standing from the chair. You glance up at him, realizing you can’t quite reach the top of his head. “Bend your knees a bit. I can’t reach that high.”
Eris smirks, but obliges, lowering himself slightly so you can reach the crown of his head. You begin by holding the egg just above his scalp, moving it slowly around the top of his head and down his neck. You notice his jaw clench, the muscles tightening under your careful movements. 
You continue to work your way down, the egg warming slightly in your hand as it absorbs the negative energy. The air feels thick with tension as you move the egg over his shoulders and bare chest, noticing how he tenses when you pass it over his thighs. His body reacts subtly, with a slight shift in posture, a clenching of his fist at his side, as if he’s fighting to keep his composure. 
“Anything yet?” Eris presses, his tone light, almost as if he’s making conversation, but you can hear the underlying tension. “Or are you just playing with eggs for fun?”
“Hold still,” you mutter, ignoring his jab as you complete the cleanse. When you reach his feet, you pause, feeling the unsettling energy still clinging to the egg in your hand. You ask him to lift each foot slightly so you can pass the egg underneath. He does so with a small huff of annoyance, muttering something you couldn’t bother yourself to care about. 
Finally, you finish the cleanse, bringing the egg back up to his head and closing the circle. The egg feels heavier in your hand now, almost throbbing with the energy it’s absorbed. You step back, holding the egg up to the light, examining it carefully. 
“What are you seeing?” he asks, his voice steady, but you catch the edge of something beneath the calm facade. “What’s wrong?”
With a frown, you walk to the counter, grab a glass, and fill it with water. Eris watches you, curiosity and impatience on his face as you crack the egg into the glass.
The moment the shell breaks, your breath catches in your throat as the realization hits you like a physical blow. The web-like structures forming in the egg’s whites, the dark red blood swirling through the yolk—they aren’t just signs of any curse. They’re markers, symbols that reveal the curse’s origin. A curse that dark, that potent, could only come from someone with a deep, intimate connection to the target. Someone who shares his blood.
Eris leans over your shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the sight. “That’s not normal, is it?” he asks, his tone still deceptively casual, but you can hear the sharp edge of concern creeping into his voice.
You shake your head slowly, staring at the cursed egg. “No,” you reply, your voice low and tense. “Eris,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as the weight of your discovery settles in. “This… this isn’t just any curse. It was arranged by someone who’s tied to you by blood. They must have paid a witch to curse you.”
His eyes widen, the casual facade slipping as your words sink in. He straightens, stepping back as if physically recoiling from the truth. For a moment, he’s silent, his usually sharp mind racing to process what you’ve just told him. But the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clench into fists, betrays the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“One of my brothers,” he murmurs, his voice low and deadly. There’s no question in his tone, only cold, calculated fury. The possibility of betrayal from within his own bloodline cuts deep, and you can see it in the way his expression darkens, in the way his shoulders stiffen as if preparing for battle.
You nod slowly, still staring at the cursed egg, your mind racing as you try to make sense of it all. “Whoever did this didn’t just want to hurt you—the curse is meant to kill, Eris.”
His gaze flickers back to you, and for a brief moment, you see something vulnerable in his eyes, something raw and unguarded. But then it’s gone, replaced by the cold determination that you’ve come to expect from him.
As you stare at the cursed egg’s results, frustration and determination mix in your mind. You need to figure out where the curse is coming from. “Wait here,” you tell him, already moving towards the shelves.
You start rummaging through your collection of enchanted tools and artifacts. You pull out a magnifying glass with runes etched into its frame—designed to detect magical auras. With it, you examine the egg’s remnants, trying to find any additional clues. Still focused, you then grab a small jar of salt, used for creating protective circles, and a vial of basic anti-magic tincture.
You hold the magnifying glass over Eris’s body, carefully examining for any magical disturbances. The glass shows a faint, dark aura around his entire form, but it’s still unclear where the source is. The salt is meant to amplify magical reactions, so you grab the jar and sprinkle some in a protective circle around him. As you observe, the dark aura becomes more pronounced, shifting and swirling. Still, it’s not pinpointed enough to identify the exact source of the curse.
You then use the anti-magic tincture, dabbing it on various parts of him: his hands, shoulders, his ankles, and on his clothing. The tincture reacts, but again, it does not specify where the curse is anchored. You decide to turn to a more direct method.
You remove one of the rings from Eris’s hand, placing it on a small tray before examining it closely with the magnifying glass. The ring is stunning, with a polished tiger’s eye stone that seems to capture and reflect the light with every movement. The stone is set in intricately crafted silver, engraved with delicate, swirling patterns reminiscent of flames. It’s a ring befitting Eris Vanserra—elegant yet undeniably powerful. This time, you notice the dark tendrils of magic intensify around the ring, more clearly than on the other items.
“This ring,” you say, realization dawning as you see the dark magic swirling more intensely, “Have you given it to anyone lately?”
Eris’s brows furrow in confusion. “No, why would I do that? It’s one of my favorites.”
You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms and biting your lip in thought. “Are you sure? Any recent changes, anyone who might have had access to it?”
He hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. “I—well, I didn’t give it to anyone, but…” He sighs, sitting back down and looking down at the ring. “I woke up one morning and found it missing from my jewelry box. I only found it a few days later, yesterday, under the dresser.”
You nod, your mind racing with the implications. “That’s significant. The timing fits with when the curse seems to have taken hold. It’s likely that someone who knew about the ring might have tampered with it.” Eris’s expression darkens, and he clenches his jaw.
You give him a sympathetic look. “Luckily, it seems whoever cast this curse used extremely rudimentary techniques. I should be able to take care of it relatively easily… Go lie down in the back room,” you tell him, pointing at the door behind the front counter. “I’ll be there in a bit with what I need to start the healing process.”
Eris nods and heads to the back room, his demeanor more subdued now. As he disappears behind the door, you turn back to the counter, gathering the rest of your supplies. The task ahead is daunting, but you’re determined to see it through.
As he disappears into the back room, you take a deep breath, centering yourself as you gather the necessary items for the healing process. Your mind is consumed with the details of what you need, and you absentmindedly reach for a pen from the counter, sliding the end of it between your lips as you think through your list—cleansing herbs, protective talismans, and special antidotes to counteract the curse. You pull out a small wooden box and start preparing the mixtures, setting out vials and jars with practiced ease. 
You move through the shop, grabbing the fresh batch of herbs and an old family recipe for a purification salve. As you’re about to head to the back room, you pause, realizing you need one more item. You hastily grab a small vial of enchanted water, known for its potency in breaking curses.
With everything in hand, you head towards the back room, your nerves steeling for the task ahead. You open the door and step inside, where Eris is lying on the sofa, looking more subdued and less defiant.
“Alright,” you say, laying out the items on a nearby table. “I need you to strip, so I can massage the salve into your skin.”
Eris raises an eyebrow, his posture relaxed despite his condition. He lounges on the plush sofa, the luxurious fabric seeming to contrast sharply with his unwell state. He is draped elegantly over the cushions, looking effortlessly refined even in his weakened state. “Are you always so forward with your clients?” he asks, a lazy, yet sardonic smile playing on his lips.
You shoot him a wry smile. “Only the ones who show up at my door covered in curses. I promise, I’ll try to keep it as professional as possible.”
Eris arches an eyebrow, glancing down at his torn shirt before meeting your eyes with a smirk. “I’ll be curious to see just how ‘professional’ you manage to be, given the state of my shirt.”
“I suppose my attempt at professionalism might seem a bit questionable after that,” you respond, trying to match his playful tone. “But given the circumstances, I promise to keep my focus on getting you sorted out.”
Eris smirks, clearly entertained by your response. “I’ll hold you to that,” he replies, making no move to cover up as he removes his shirt. He casually kicks off his boots and slips out of his pants. He starts to remove his underwear, but you quickly hold up a hand, a hint of discomfort in your voice.
“Uh, you can keep those on,” you say, your tone awkward. “I really don’t need to see more of you than I already have.”
Eris raises an eyebrow but complies, lying back on the sofa in his remaining attire. He stretches out, his posture relaxed despite his state.
You try to maintain your composure as you prepare to apply the salve, aware of the subtle flush on your cheeks at the sight of him.
You take the salve and begin applying it to his skin, your hands gliding over the thick, soothing mixture. The salve is warm and slightly sticky, and you work it into his flesh with careful, deliberate strokes. His skin is pale and warm under your touch, marked with faint, livid lines where the curse has taken hold. Despite his condition, his muscles are firm and well-defined.
You try to focus on the task, but the proximity and the intimate nature of your work make your cheeks flush. Your hands move methodically, spreading the salve evenly over his torso, smoothing it into every defined contour. The tension in the room is almost tangible, and you do your best to maintain your composure, concentrating on the rhythm of your movements.
After a few minutes, you glance up at Eris, only to find him watching you with a smirk. You assume he’s noticed your nervousness and it makes your blush deepen, feeling the heat spread across your cheeks.
You hum as if asking “What?”, but it comes out a bit strained.
Eris chuckles softly, the sound low and knowing. “What’s the pendant on your necklace?”
You pause, momentarily distracted by his question. You glance down at the pendant but realize you’ve been toying with it between your teeth. You drop it, a sleek piece of black tourmaline set in a delicate silver setting. It catches the light, its dark, glossy surface reflecting an eerie, protective shimmer. “It’s black tourmaline,” you explain, trying to keep your voice steady as you wipe your hand on the skirt of your dress. “It’s known for protection.” 
You reach up and carefully open the locket, revealing a small, intricately illustrated image nestled inside. The illustration depicts you and a scruffy little dog, your faces pressed close together. His warm brown eyes are visible, reflecting the affection between you. The artist’s delicate strokes bring out the softness and warmth of the scene, with a gentle, glowing quality.
“Here,” you say, offering the locket for Eris to see. “That’s my dog, Cedar. He’s my best friend.”
Eris glances at the illustration and raises an eyebrow. “Cute dog,” he remarks, his voice softening slightly. He takes a moment to admire it before you close the locket and turn your attention back to the task at hand.
You resume applying the salve, your hands moving carefully over his thighs. Your proximity is close, and you can’t help but be aware of the intimate nature of the task.
Eris breaks the silence, his tone is casual yet curious. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a dog person. What’s he like?”
You continue working the salve into his skin, your hands deftly spreading it. “Cedar? He’s a little bundle of energy. Loves to play and is always up for an adventure. Not very fond of arrogant redheads.”
Eris chuckles softly. “Sounds like quite a character. I’ve got a few ghost hounds myself. Jasper’s the mischievous one, Ember’s more reserved but loyal, and Thorne... well, he’s a bit of a troublemaker. They each have their own quirks, but they’re a handful.” He smiles faintly, a hint of fondness in his eyes.
You nod, trying to focus on the salve while managing the awkward proximity. “Sounds like they’re quite a pack.”
Eris’s eyes twinkle with a mixture of amusement and affection as he regards you. “They are. All twelve of them.”
You clear your throat, doing your best to shake off the distraction of Eris’s body under your hands. “Twelve? That’s… quite a lot,” you manage to say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how flustered you are.
Eris gives a small, almost smug nod. “They’re quite the company.”
You force a small smile, quickly refocusing on the task at hand before your scent gives you away. “Alright, I need you to flip over so I can get your back,” you instruct, your voice steadier now.
Eris moves with a grace that belies the curse’s toll, turning onto his stomach. As he settles, you catch yourself marveling at the expanse of his back, the way his muscles shift beneath his skin. You work the salve into his skin, starting at his shoulders and moving downward. Your fingers glide over the planes of his back, kneading the thick mixture into his skin with slow, deliberate motions.
When you reach his lower back, you can’t help but notice how firm and tight his muscles are. You swallow hard, trying to focus on the task and not on how ridiculously sculpted he is. This close, his scent—woodsy and warm, with a hint of spice—mixes with the herbs of the salve, creating an intoxicating blend that makes your heart race.
With the salve fully applied, you stand and step back, wiping your hands on a cloth. You retrieve the small vial of enchanted water from your supplies. The liquid inside shimmers faintly, a sign of its potency.
You kneel beside Eris and unstopper the vial, letting a few drops spill into your palm. “This will help neutralize any residual dark magic,” you explain, mostly to fill the silence as you pour the water into your hands. It’s cool to the touch, sending a slight tingle through your fingers.
Gently, you begin to rub the enchanted water into his skin, starting at his shoulders and moving downward again. You feel a faint warmth where the water touches his skin, a sign that the curse is reacting to the cleansing magic. You mutter a soft incantation under your breath as you work, tracing the lines of his muscles with your fingertips to ensure the water reaches every part of him.
Eris lies still beneath you, but you can sense his awareness of your every move. The tension between you is palpable, like a coiled spring waiting to snap. But you focus on your work, pushing aside the awkwardness.
You clear your throat softly. “Flip back over. I need to do your front.”
Eris obliges, rolling onto his back again. As you begin to apply the enchanted water to his chest, your hands instinctively move in slow, deliberate circles. The cool liquid glides over the hard planes of his abs and pecs, and you find yourself distracted by the feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips. His skin is smooth, marred only by the faint, dark lines of the curse, but the tautness of his body is impossible to ignore.
Your thoughts begin to wander, unbidden. The definition of his abs under your touch, the way his chest rises and falls steadily with each breath, the heat radiating from him despite the coolness of the water—all of it feels too intimate, too close. You lose yourself in the rhythm of the massage, each movement deliberate, but tinged with an awareness you wish you could ignore.
When you finally finish applying the water, you take a step back and wipe your hands again. “That should do it,” you say, though your voice comes out softer than you intended. “Now we just need to give it time to work.”
Eris slowly sits up, his movements careful and deliberate. He glances at you, and for a moment, his usual guarded expression softens. "Thank you," he says quietly, the words carrying a weight that surprises you.
You nod, unsure of how to respond to the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Just... make sure you rest. The curse should start breaking down now, but you'll need time to recover-"
Eris cuts you off, his tone turning teasing as he leans forward. "You always seem to be keeping that mouth of yours busy, don't you?"
You blink, caught off guard by the sudden comment. "Excuse me?"
His gaze drops pointedly to your hand, and it's only then that you realize your thumbnail is between your teeth. You quickly pull it away, trying to mask your embarrassment with a frown. "I wasn't-"
"Oh, you were," he interrupts, the smirk playing on his lips growing. "First your necklace, now your nails. And don't think I didn't notice you biting your lip earlier. Tell me, is this a nervous habit or something else?"
You huff, the irritation building slowly. "It's nothing. Just a habit, alright?"
He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he's dissecting your every move. "A habit, hmm? Interesting."
You roll your eyes, exasperation creeping into your tone. "Look, it's really none of your business. I just did you a favor, saving your life; can't you drop the smart remarks for once?"
Eris's smirk doesn't waver. "A favor? Let's not pretend you didn't enjoy getting your hands all over me," he says, his voice dripping with mockery. "You were practically drooling over me."
Your face burns, and you take a step forward, anger and embarrassment now battling for dominance. "I was doing my job, Eris. If I took any extra care, it was because I had to-your life was in my hands, not because I wanted to."
He arches an eyebrow, clearly amused by your rising frustration. "So you admit you were being thorough."
You let out a frustrated breath, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. "You're insufferable, you know that? Not everything is about you."
His voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. “If it’s just a job, then why do you look like you’ve been caught red-handed?”
Your eyes widen at his insinuation, and you struggle to find a retort, feeling both flustered and infuriated by his smugness.
Your heart skips a beat at the intensity in his gaze, the raw challenge in his words. "What does it matter to you?" you snap back, though your voice falters, the heat of the moment starting to overwhelm you. "You're just trying to get under my skin."
Eris's gaze flickers to your lips, and you feel the air between you grow heavy, charged with an undeniable tension. "Maybe I am," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Or maybe I'm just waiting for you to admit you want this as much as I do."
Your breath catches, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of you, the magnetic pull between you impossible to ignore. You shake your head, trying to maintain your composure despite the heat in your cheeks. "You don't really want this," you retort, your voice coming out more uncertain than you intended.
Eris's smirk widens, and he stands impossibly close to you, his eyes dark with intensity. "Oh, but I do."
You meet his gaze, feeling a surge of defiance and desire. "Prove it," you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper.
Eris responds to your challenge with a fierce intensity. He closes the space between you with a sudden, forceful kiss that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours, and the kiss is a wild, heated clash of desire and frustration.
Your lips meet with a ferocity that makes your head spin, his hands gripping your face as if he's afraid you might pull away. His mouth moves against yours with a demanding urgency, his tongue pushing past your lips to tangle with yours. The kiss is rough, almost desperate, as if he's trying to prove something with every touch.
You feel his teeth nip at your lower lip, sharp and insistent, and the sudden spark of pain only intensifies the heat between you. Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping it tightly and pulling him closer if possible, as if trying to merge your bodies together.
Eris's fingers tangle in your hair, his grip firm as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. His movements are driven by a raw, unrestrained need, and you can feel his breath come in ragged gasps against your skin. Each touch, each movement is a battle, a clash of passion and frustration.
You respond in kind, your own fingers digging into his scalp, your nails scratching lightly as you try to keep up with the fierce pace he sets. The kiss is a war of wills, a struggle for dominance that leaves you both breathless and hungry for more.
Finally, the intensity of the kiss subsides, but only slightly. You pull away just enough to look into each other's eyes, both of you panting heavily, faces flushed. The moment is charged with an electric tension, a mix of anger and desire that hangs in the air between you.
Eris's eyes are dark and intense as he stares at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Is that proof enough?" he asks, his voice low and rough.
Your lips slam into his again, and you press your body against his with a forceful urgency, your hands roaming over his bare torso. Eris’s initial surprise quickly turns into fervor. His hands move over your back and sides, his touch rough but deliberate. His fingers brush along the fabric of your dress, tugging it slightly as he pulls you closer. His hands glide over your waist, up your sides, and finally settle at the small of your back, pulling you so close that there’s no space left between your bodies. Your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his smooth skin, and you can’t help but dig your nails in slightly, relishing the shudder that ripples through him.
“You’re such a pain,” you murmur against his lips, your voice breathy but laced with irritation. “Always so arrogant, thinking everyone wants you.”
Eris’s response is a low growl, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he pulls back just enough to look at you. “And yet here you were, begging me to strip under the guise of helping me. I guess my arrogance isn’t so misplaced after all.”
Your retort is immediate, biting. “Guise? I did help you, don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you—it’s about shutting you up.” You punctuate your words by biting down on his lower lip, hard enough to make him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure.
He chuckles, the sound low and mocking. “Is that what you’re telling yourself? That this is just about shutting me up?” His grip on your hips tightens, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night. But we both know you’re enjoying this.”
You shove him back slightly, just enough to regain some space, your chest heaving with both desire and defiance. “You’re delusional. If anything, I’m doing this to prove you wrong.” But even as you say it, your hands are already trailing lower, brushing over the hard lines of his abdomen, testing his resolve.
Eris’s smirk never falters. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says, his voice thick with lust and challenge. “But we both know the truth—you can’t resist me any more than I can resist you.”
“Resist?” You scoff, though your voice wavers with the intensity of the moment. “Who said anything about resisting? Maybe I’m just enjoying the moment before I throw you out.”
His eyes darken further, a primal edge sharpening his features. “You talk a big game, but I can feel how much you’re into this.” His hand slides up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress’s long skirt aside with  forceful impatience. “Or do you want me to stop and see if you beg?”
You meet his challenge head-on, your eyes blazing. “Beg? I’d rather die.”
He grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light as his hand continues its relentless exploration. “We’ll see.”
With that, he kisses you again, the force of it pushing you both back until you’re pinned against the wall, his body pressing into yours with an intensity that makes your head spin. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling hard, and he groans into your mouth, his own grip on you tightening as the need between you becomes impossible to ignore.
"You're insufferable," you hiss, though your fingers are still digging into his skin, still trailing over the hard lines of his chest.
Eris’s mouth swallows your frustrated words. “Then shut me up,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with challenge.
You take the bait, pulling him closer as you bite down on his lip again, harder this time, drawing a low groan from him. His hands slip under your dress, the roughness of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “That all you’ve got?” he taunts, his voice ragged.
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes locked with his in a heated stare. “I can do a lot more than that,” you shoot back, your voice dripping with defiance.
“Prove it,” he snarls, his hands tightening on your hips as if daring you to push the boundaries further.
Your gaze never wavers from his as you slowly begin to sink to your knees in front of him. Eris's breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and something else, something far more primal.
“Careful,” he warns, though there’s a rough edge to his voice that betrays his anticipation. “You might find yourself in over your head.”
You smirk, defiant as ever. “I’m sure I can handle you,” you say, your voice low and challenging as you settle in front of him, pulling his underwear down and freeing his cock. It springs up, slapping against his skin. Eris's breath catches again, this time more audibly, as your fingers wrap around him, the warmth of your touch eliciting a shudder from him. For a moment, the air between you is charged, thick with tension. His fiery gaze locks onto yours, his usual cool demeanor cracking just enough to reveal the raw desire simmering beneath the surface.
“Is that so?” His voice is a rasp, heavy with lust, yet there's still a trace of his usual arrogance, as if he’s not entirely convinced you know what you’re getting into. His hand slides into your hair, not quite a caress but not entirely a threat either.
You look up at him through your lashes, your smirk never fading as you lean in, the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Eris's grip tightens involuntarily, and you feel a surge of satisfaction at the way his control is already starting to slip.
“Keep pushing me, and I won’t be able to stop myself,” he growls. But you don’t intend to stop. You want to see him unravel, to take him apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of his carefully constructed composure. Your mouth closes around him, taking him deeper, your movements slow, savoring the way he swears under his breath, his hips jerking slightly as if he can’t help but respond to the pleasure you’re giving him.
“Fuck,” he mutters and braces his hand against the wall as you cup his balls. The last of his restraint frays as you take him deeper, the heat of your mouth and the slick glide of your tongue driving him mad with pleasure.
His dominance, his ever-present need to be in control, is slipping through his fingers, and you can see it in the way his eyes flutter shut, in the way his head tips back, exposing the strong line of his throat. You’re pushing him closer and closer to the brink, and the power you feel at this moment is intoxicating, heady, and utterly addictive.
His hand tightens in your hair, and just as you feel like you’ve taken control, he pulls you back with a sudden, forceful yank. The motion is swift, leaving you gasping as he tilts your head up, pressing it back against the wall. His eyes, dark and wild, lock onto yours, and you can see the moment he decides to take the power back.
Without a word, he thrusts forward, his cock pushing past your lips in a smooth, deliberate motion, filling your mouth completely. The sensation is overwhelming—the taste of him, the pressure, the way his hips move with a raw, unrestrained need. He’s no longer holding back, no longer letting you lead.
His hand in your hair tightens even more, holding you firmly in place as he begins to fuck your mouth, each thrust rougher, more demanding than the last. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s fighting to maintain some semblance of control, but it’s slipping fast, and you know you’re the one driving him to this point.
“Is this what you needed?” he growls, his voice rough with the thrill of dominance. “Always biting your nails, playing with that necklace... I knew you needed something more to keep that mouth of yours busy.”
His words send a jolt of heat through you, the dark thrill only intensifying your desire. You try to nod, but his grip holds you in place, his cock filling your mouth completely, muffling any response you could give. The way he’s watching you, eyes narrowed, intense, tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
“Tell me,” he demands, thrusting deeper, his voice low and laced with a dark satisfaction. “You like this better, don’t you? Better than biting down on that lip of yours? You’d rather be sucking my cock, wouldn’t you?”
The words, the sheer audacity of his tone, make you whimper around him, the sound vibrating through your throat, and his grip tightens almost possessively in response. His thrusts become more erratic, each one pushing you closer to the edge, the friction, the heat building between you until it’s all-consuming.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of mockery and admiration. “So desperate to keep your mouth busy. Is this what you’ve been wanting all along? Something to fill that pretty little mouth, something to keep you from biting down so hard?”
You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and the way he shudders makes you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’re pushing him right to the edge, and he knows it, the way his hips snap forward betraying how close he is to losing control entirely.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice cracking with the intensity of it all. “You feel so fucking good—taking me so well. Just like that. Keep going, and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about looking for something to occupy that pretty little mouth with ever again.”
His words send you spiraling, your own desire mounting as you submit to his dominance. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, the desperation in his movements telling you just how close he is to unraveling completely. His grip on your hair is almost punishing, but the way he’s losing himself in you is worth every second of it.
“Do you like this?” he taunts, his voice low and rough. “Better than anything else you’ve ever had between those lips?”
And just as you sense he’s about to tip over the edge, he pulls back, panting heavily, his eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and lust as he tries to regain control.  But it’s too late—he’s already there, the pleasure too overwhelming to stop. With a low, guttural groan, he wraps his hand around his slick cock as he strokes himself to completion.
His hips jerk as he comes, hot and thick, painting your lips and tongue with his release. The taste of him floods your senses, salty and rich, and you can’t help but savor it, holding his gaze as you swallow every last drop. The look on his face is pure, unrestrained satisfaction, but there’s still that edge of frustration, like he’s not quite finished with you yet.
Before you can react, he hauls you to your feet, his grip firm, almost possessive. His eyes never leave yours as he reaches out, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth, gathering the last traces of his release. The movement is deliberate, his expression dark and unreadable as he holds his thumb in front of your lips.
“Open,” he commands, his voice rough, and without hesitation, you part your lips, sucking his thumb clean. The taste of him lingers on your tongue, and the way his eyes darken tells you he’s watching every second, every subtle movement.
His thumb slides free from your mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heavy silence between you, charged with the aftermath of what just happened and the unspoken promise of what’s to come next. Eris’s chest heaves with each breath, but the hunger in his eyes hasn’t dimmed. If anything, it’s only grown stronger, the intensity between you far from spent.
Eris’s hands find the laces on the back of your dress, his fingers deft as he begins to undo them, each tug of the fabric sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. His breath is still heavy, uneven, but there's a renewed focus in his movements, a meticulousness that makes your pulse quicken. The dress loosens gradually, the cool air hitting your skin as he exposes more and more of you, and the sensation of his fingers grazing your back is maddening.
You can take in the sight of him now—bare, unrestrained, his usual elegance stripped away—it sends a jolt of desire through you. But before you can revel in it, his hands are on you again, rougher this time, pulling the dress down your body until it pools at your feet.
His eyes drink you in, taking in every inch of your now-exposed skin, and the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch. There’s something almost reverent in his gaze, but it’s laced with a hunger that promises he’s far from done with you. He steps closer, and the heat radiating off him is palpable, his chest brushing against yours as he reaches down between your bodies, his hand yanking your underwear down and finding its way to your core.
Your hand slips between you, stroking him, and he groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. His fingers slide against you, a delicious friction that makes you gasp, your grip on him tightening reflexively in response. His eyes are half-lidded as he reaches behind you to undo the clasps of your bra, focused entirely on the way your body responds to him, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It’s a reminder that despite the edge you’d gained, he’s still every bit as dangerous, every bit as intoxicating.
With a growl, Eris suddenly lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he presses you back against the wall. The cool surface contrasts sharply with the heat of his body, and the sensation is almost overwhelming, his hard length brushing against your inner thigh, teasing, tormenting. You can feel the tension in his muscles, the barely restrained need as he grinds against you, his hand still between your legs, stoking the fire that’s been burning between you both from the start.
And then, with a swift, powerful thrust, he’s inside you, and everything else falls away—the tension, the teasing, the power struggle—until all that’s left is the raw, unrelenting desire that neither of you can deny any longer. He’s relentless, driving into you with a raw, primal need that matches your own, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. The sound of your bodies colliding, the wet slide of him inside you, fills the room, mingling with the ragged breaths and low moans you can’t suppress.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down just hard enough to make you gasp, the pain mingling with the pleasure in a way that only intensifies the sensation. His voice is rough, laced with a dark satisfaction as if he’s finally giving you what you’ve been daring him to unleash. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” you snap back, but your voice comes out breathless, betraying how much you’re already unraveling. His words send a thrill through you, the taunting, the edge of danger in his tone only making you want him more. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving marks on his skin as you try to meet his thrusts, the pressure building inside you almost unbearable.
He smirks against your throat, his breath hot and uneven. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your pulse point before he bites down again, harder this time. “You want me to break you, don’t you?”
Your hands fist in his hair, yanking his head back so you can meet his gaze, the defiance in your eyes only fueling the fire between you. “Shut up,” you hiss, your voice trembling with the force of your impending release. 
A dark chuckle escapes him, and he slams into you harder, the movement sending you both crashing further into the abyss of sensation. Each thrust drives you higher, the pressure in your core building, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces. His movements are wild, erratic, and yet there’s a precision to them, a calculated determination to make you lose control before he does. But you’re not about to give in easily, not when the taste of victory is so close.
“Faster,” you demand, your voice edged with desperation, and the way his eyes flash with something primal tells you he’s just as close to the edge as you are.
He obliges, his pace becoming almost brutal as he pounds into you, the sound of your name falling from his lips like a curse, like a prayer. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice cracking with the intensity of it all. “I’m going to ruin you.”
“I’m sure you’d love to,” you manage to choke out, but the words are barely coherent, your mind a haze of pleasure as he drives you closer and closer to oblivion.
And then he reaches down, his thumb finding your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling. The sudden, overwhelming sensation makes you cry out, your body arching against him as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in bliss.
Eris isn’t far behind, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge. He buries himself deep inside you, his own release ripping through him with a ferocity that leaves him shaking, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he finds his own release, the tension that’s been coiled so tightly between you finally snapping.
For a moment, neither of you moves, the only sound in the room is ragged breathing as you both come down from the high. His forehead rests against yours, his breath hot against your lips, and for a fleeting moment, the war between you seems to fade, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection that this moment has forged.
But it’s only a moment.
“Don’t think this changes anything,” you murmur, your voice still breathless but laced with that familiar defiance.
Eris chuckles softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, though there’s a softness to his voice that wasn’t there before, a hint of something more beneath the layers of antagonism.
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issysh3ll · 1 month
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Thank you ✧˖° Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: Chris shows how grateful he is for you driving him around all day Warnings: Smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, munch! chris, use of 'ma', squirting, gratitude Wordcount: 1.3k
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The car door swings closed behind Chris as he climbs back into the passenger seat, tossing a bag into the back seat and pulling his seatbelt across his body. Your hand shifts on the gears as you begin reversing out of the car park, speaking over your shoulder to Chris “alright, home now? Finally.” 
You shift the car back into drive and pull out onto the road to head back to Chris’s house but he shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Not yet, one more stop. Turn up here,” he gestures off to the right, a small road heading behind the big park. You throw Chris a confused look, all the errands he had listed to you at the start of the day were done. 
He had bought a present for one of his mates, returned some faulty item to a store you’d never heard of, collected a parcel that was waiting at the post office, dropped off a shirt he had borrowed from someone who lives halfway across town. You had been dragged through several clothing stores as he hunted for an outfit for some influencer event next week, you had waited patiently in the car while he got his haircut. The whole day had been spent driving every which way around the entire city and you thought you were finally done with everything on Chris’s list, but apparently not. 
The small road winds and turns, climbing up the hill running behind the park, before eventually meeting a deadend at a small parking lot looking over the city. You pull the car into one of the spots and kill the engine, turning to look at Chris quizzically. “I don’t remember this being on the list of errands for today?”
Chris’s grin quickly turns to a smirk as he unbuckles his seat belt and reaches over to do the same with yours, “well I added it, figured I should thank you for driving me around all day.”
You blink at Chris blankly, not sure if you’re hearing him correctly. You had always found him attractive secretly but you were such good friends you hadn’t wanted to risk that by telling making a move. But here he is, suggesting it like it is the most normal thing in the world. 
Chris chuckles at the look of shock on your face and leans towards you, whispering, “c’mon ma, come in the back with me. Let me say thank you.” He trails a finger along your jaw as he speaks, his eyes fixed on yours, examining them for your reaction. You swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head slightly.
Chris’s grin widens and he crawls through the space between your seats into the back of the car, sitting on his knees and watching you clamber through after him. Thoughts race through your mind as you plop down in the middle seat next to Chris, unsure of what to do next.  
Thankfully, Chris eases your awkwardness. His right hand brushing against your cheek softly before trailing his fingers down your jaw. Sparks run along your skin under his touch, your heart speeding up and a warmth now flowing through your body. You swallow dryly, meeting Chris’s eyes as his fingers come to a halt under your chin, his thumb caressing softly over your bottom lip. “Lie back for me, pretty girl,” Chris coos, gently guiding your body down against the back seat of your car. 
Your heart is racing as his hands trail up and down the side of your thighs. He starts fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “These are so pretty on ya,” he pulls on the hem, looking up at you with questioning eyes. “--can I take em off?” he asks. Nodding at him, he smiles warmly, sliding off the clothing and tossing it to the floor. His eyes are glued to your newly exposed skin hungrily as he licks over his lips.
Chris’s hands run up and down the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your knees and pressing them apart with his palms as he leans his body forward. His face now in line with your dripping heat, his breath fanning over your skin, the anticipation sending sparks through your body. Chris’s lips kiss against your inner thigh, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. He mutters a small “thank you, ma..” before placing another sloppy kiss slightly further down your thigh, “--mm thank you.”  
“Wanna make you feel so good ma, you’ve done so much f’me today…”  Chris mumbles against your thighs, his kisses trailing closer and closer to your now aching core, continuing with his flood of small gratitudes between each kiss. His eyes are locked on the glistening wetness dripping from between your folds. Your hips wiggle slightly under his gaze, desperate for some sort of friction and your voice is shaky, “mhmm, Chris please– make me feel good.”
Chris lets out a soft groan at your invitation, his eyes meeting yours as he brings his mouth down. He trails his tongue lightly up your slit and over your clit in one slow movement, maintaining his lingering gaze as the warmth of his mouth envelopes your senses. Your lips part as a heavy moaned breath releases, the relief of finally having the contact you were craving washing over you.
Your hand travels down to lace through Chris’s hair as he begins to get lost in your taste. His tongue dances around your clit perfectly as the knot in your stomach begins to build. Chris’s fingers circle around your entrance, coating themselves in your slick before slowly pushing two digits inside. 
Your mouth hangs open, strings of lewd moans falling uncontrollably as Chris thrusts his fingers expertly in and out of your soaked pussy. His fingers curling upwards to hit just the right spot with each movement causing a blissful pressure to build in your lower abdomen. His tongue never slows its wet movements against your clit as his fingers and mouth move in perfect harmony. The wet, warmth of Chris’s mouth is driving you insane, causing your back to arch off the seat and your legs to clamp around his head. 
Your fingers tug on his hair as your moans grow louder, the pleasure building in your stomach threatening to overflow at any moment. Chris’s small mumbles of “thank you” between each movement of his tongue getting lost under the lewd moans escaping your mouth.
“Chris, ah–”
“C’mon, ma. Let it out, you can do it– mm, let me repay you” he moans against you, his muffled voice sending vibrations through you and amplifying the pleasure his skillful tongue is bringing you. His lips lock around your clit again, this time sucking it further into his mouth as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud. His movements grow hungrier as your moans grow breathy and your legs start to shake around his head.
Chris grows intoxicated by your sweet moans and the way your body writhes under him with pleasure, his fingers pressing harder upwards against your sweet spot. “That’s it, give it t’me” he hisses. His face pushing impossibly closer against your wetness as his movements become more desperate, chasing your high. 
“F-fuck, Chris! I’m gonna–” your cry is cut off by a shaky moan as your pleasure finally overflows. Your eyes blur in a haze of pleasure as your muscles spasm. You feel your wet release splash against Chris’s face, his tongue happily lapping it up with a deep groan. His lips are still attached firmly to your dripping cunt as he mutters endless strings of gratitude into your skin, kisses trailing up and down your folds as he licks off any remaining juices. 
“Thank you…” Chris pants as he sits up, his chin glistening with your slick as he smiles down at you, “thank you.”
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snailpebbles · 1 month
Text
Hold You - OP81
pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem! reader
summary: Oscar is bone tired and just wants to hold you close, but still needs to clean himself up. Why not drag you into the shower with him?
tags: Oscar is so clingy, fluff, more fluff, innocent and loving shower fic that we all need
wc: 1.4k
a/n: uhh it's rly late, I wrote this instead of sleeping so it isn't proofread or coherent. lol. SEND ME ASKS OR WTV PLEASE ??
⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚
It's been a long day and all Oscar truly wants us to have you close. When he steps into your shared apartment it's like all the stressful events of the day melt off his shoulders, and he bee lines for your comfy form on the couch. You pop your head up out of your blanket cave, a bright smile on your face at the sight of your tired boyfriend sluggishly coming to you.
"Hi handsome." You greet, sitting up straight and pushing your arms out of the blanket mass to get him. He slumps forward with a groan, burying his head into your chest as his arms wiggle around your waist. A chuckle escapes your lips before they press to his brown hair.
After a moment of letting him soak up your presence, his arms tighten around you out of nowhere. Oscar feels the sudden urge to hold you and keep you there, all light blocked out so all he can focus on is you. He smiles into your shirt when you yelp from him suddenly lifting you out of the blankets, his strength making the task easy in a way that warms your face.
"Shower." He mutters into your shirt, not wanting to spend energy on properly speaking when you understand each other well enough already. Thankfully you allow this even though you've already washed and dried your hair, a process that takes far longer than you'd like but hey, you're weak for him.
He flicks the bright lights on, listening carefully as you direct him where to walk since he's still carrying you. Oscar finally sits you down on the bathroom counter, slotted between your thighs as he presses his forehead to yours. He cannot stand a moment away from you, especially not when you look so soft. It makes it difficult to think clearly, the way his shirt hangs off your shoulder and your eyes are clearly growing heavy. Regardless of your tired state you entertain him, something he will always appreciate and feel undeserving of.
You both silently undress the other, boundaries mush at this point in your relationship as the unspoken understanding extends to every instance. His hands are cold against your warm skin, giving you goosebumps. Meanwhile Oscar quietly sighs in relief at the warmth seeping back into his exhausted bones, every part of you managing to relax him. He drops his head in favor of nuzzling into your neck and you wrap your arms around his bare shoulders, tracing a mole on his left. He breathes you in, honey warm and sweet, an intangible scent that he would follow to the ends of the Earth.
Eventually you detach from one another, turning the shower to hot and reattaching while you wait on the old pipes. During this time Oscar clings once more, slim fingers tracing the stretchmarks on your thighs as you trace the ones on his back. It's clear that he knows you and your body, something he's paid more attention to than even the most important races of his left because.. well, what could possibly measure up to someone as lovely as you?
The hot water cascades over you both, relaxing Oscars tense back further as you silently appreciate the groan he gives in response. His hands don't leave your hips, instead anchoring you close like the slightest move will make you disappear. It's a reoccurring nightmare he has had but every morning you're there without fail, brushing his messy bed head into something worse while giggling into his skin about some silly noise he made while sleeping.
As he goes to wash his hair you tut in disapproval, snatching the shampoo from his hands.
"Nuh uh, lean your hand back baby." You instruct, a fond smile growing on his face as he listens to you without a fight. Why would he ever say no to you touching him, especially when you're washing his hair? You're gentle, drawing soft sighs of relief from him as you scratch at his scalp. Few things can compare to this he realizes, the level of comfort you bring him unparalleled. Gently, you wash the shampoo out while mumbling some random song you heard that morning, a common habit of yours that he's grown to love.
"You smell good."
"... We're in the shower, it smells like your shampoo."
"Yum."
Regardless of his bizarre commentary, you still chuckle and continue the process. He makes more odd comments just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him, but then again he'd do anything to hear a singular peep of your voice. Oscars sure he must have a problem or maybe you're addictive, but he knows inside that it's love. He loves you, plain and simple. Being the man he is, he doesn't understand how everyone isn't borderline obsessed with you. Then again, that's his job and he'd be a little a lot upset if someone tried to take it.
"Someone's eager."
"You smell like sweat, oil, and grease."
"You say that as if you don't find it attractive."
"... Shut up or I'll pour soap in your mouth." You mutter, face warming once more since you both know he's right. He does shut up because you will follow through on that soap threat.. he knows from experience.
The smell of your vanilla body wash fills the air as you lather it on the washcloth, gently scrubbing the layers of the day off of his pale skin. Oscar melts into your touch, struggling to even stay upright as all he wants is to have no gap between you two. If he could absorb you, he would (when he admitted that you teased him relentlessly while ignoring the fact that you want the same).
You both bask in the hot water for a little longer even after he's fully clean, pressed close together. In your mind, it's empty. The usual rush of thoughts and things to do have fled to make room for the safety he brings you. Meanwhile, Oscar is bliss, peace, happiness, the whole shebang. He could die right here and have no regrets at all. Except for not kissing you yet. He fixes that soon after with a gentle lingering one that leaves you both buzzing.
Time does have its demands, so you do eventually get out of the shower before you go full prune. He wraps a fluffy towel around and then himself, mumbling an apology for your hair which you brush aside with a soft peck on his cheek. Once you're fully clothed, aka he put on boxers and you put on underwear while stealing another one of his shirts, you curl up into each other in bed.
He holds you close like he's dreamt of all day, pressing his face into your chest with his arms locked around your waist once more. You toss a leg over him, burying your face into his hair and peppering kisses on the top of his head to hear him giggle at the ticklish sensation. It's good and it's right, the cozy feeling that overtakes him nestling into his chest right alongside his perfectly overwhelming love for all things you. There's no other way he wants to sleep; your heart beats right next to his ear, your chest rising and falling while lifting his head with the motion, not to mention the way you hold him like he's the cuddliest thing on Earth (to you, he is). An honorable mention is his face is conveniently resting on your tits. For you, the weight of his arm around your waist and the feeling of his breath brushing your collarbone is enough to reset your nerves to a low hum, something you greatly appreciate. The solidness Oscar brings to you physically is needed and heavily enjoyed, your personal weighted blanket whose constant coldness keeps you from overheating. A perfect balance only further showcasing how well you go together (or maybe you're just delusional and in love).
"g'night." he mumbles out sleepily, kissing your clothed shoulder with his last bit of energy before promptly passing out in your arms. A chuckle slips from you and you whisper an 'I love you' into his soft hair, heart fluttering when he pulls himself from the brink of sleep to yawn 'I love you too'.
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laneywrld · 5 months
Text
Oh Baby | part two
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part two.
word count: 10.8k
Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy
The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.
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You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning. 
"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."
You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad. 
He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.
The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning. 
If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.
You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up. 
"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."
The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other. 
Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side. 
His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.
"We need t'sleep."
He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.
You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate. 
"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."
Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.
Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world. 
He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.
He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.
Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life. 
Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.
"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.
-
You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.
"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.
You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.
There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten. 
You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.
What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise. 
You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.
You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.
He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"
You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"
"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.
"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"
Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.
"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off. 
Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.
You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.
You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.
"Last night was fun," He hummed.
You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.
"I want to address what we-"
You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.
"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."
"I don't-"
"It was a mistake," you rambled on.
Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.
"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.
"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."
Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.
There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.
"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."
He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.
He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny. 
"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts. 
His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.
"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."
You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.
"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"
"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"
"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?" 
He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other. 
"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.
"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"
"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.
"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes. 
Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.
"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."
"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."
"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.
"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"
And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.
And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.
But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.
You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.
"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."
Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"
He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.
You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."
You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.
He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.
He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny. 
You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave? 
You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely. 
When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this. 
-
Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend. 
You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.
He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.
You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.
Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you. 
-
Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes. 
He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.
When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.
Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."
Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good. 
He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.
Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.
The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school. 
Hello Lewis,
I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will. 
Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.
p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder. 
From Bunny. <3
-
One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.
His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.
Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.
He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well. 
He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.
He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture. 
He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races. 
Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week. 
*
You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.
When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high. 
Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by. 
Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.
You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.
You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed. 
All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner. 
The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.
Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.
"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.
"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"
Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you. 
You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front. 
"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."
You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."
When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.
A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces. 
You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck. 
So much for being able to avoid him.
You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.
You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.
"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime. 
"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"
"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."
It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.
Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads. 
You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.
This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht. 
You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it. 
Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet. 
An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins. 
He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?
And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other. 
Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.
"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"
"What's happened, my boy?"
Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.
"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.
Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?" 
Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.
"Do you want to talk to her?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.
"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."
You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."
"No, sir."
He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face. 
"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."
Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses. 
"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."
"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.
"Well, Yes, sir."
"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.
You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis. 
This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.
You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.
Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty. 
You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.
Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory. 
"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.
"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him. 
"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.
"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."
There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."
Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.
It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.
He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.
He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.
You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now. 
Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart. 
"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."
When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you. 
"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.
"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.
"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles. 
You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction. 
"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing. 
He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.
"Wow."
"Wow, what, Lewis?"
"So I'm Lewis now?" 
"Is that not your name?" You snap back.
You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.
"Not to you, you know that though."
"Nicknames are for friends." 
"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.
"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"
 you both childishly bicker back and forth.
“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."
"I've got a right to be mean to you."
"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.
"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."
"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."
"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.
"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.
"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."
"I wasn't about to call you a bitch." 
Yeah, again, you think. 
You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.
"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"
"That's my dad for you."
"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."
"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.
"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."
"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."
He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.
"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."
"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."
And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.
Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.
"You okay, bunny?"
You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.
You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics. 
"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent. 
And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.
"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.
You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.
"I'm still mad at you." You declare.
"I know." 
"I still want an apology."
"I'm sorry."
You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.
This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off. 
"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."
Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.
"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."
Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."
His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."
"But you never called me."
"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.
"I thought you were finally done with me."
"Never that."
"Are we okay?" You examine.
"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured. 
And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.
He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."
"I love you more." 
You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above. 
"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.
"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."
"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face. 
-
"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.
"What's that?"
"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."
Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in. 
He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.
That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him. 
"What?" You question.
"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."
"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.
"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again. 
"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.
He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else. 
Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.
As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.
You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.
You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.
"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.
She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout. 
"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.
"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."
"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."
You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.
You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."
Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."
-
Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.
 She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.
"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."
When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.
You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."
"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.
You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.
"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you. 
"I think you are, though."
Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.
"Whit." It's all you say.
"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."
"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.
She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.
"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"
"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"
"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"
As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.
Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together. 
You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain. 
Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.
"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.
"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.
"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.
You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"
The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.
"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.
She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face. 
You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.
When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.
"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."
"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.
"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.
"I need to tell Lewis."
"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."
You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.
"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.
"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"
"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."
"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders. 
"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."
You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.
"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"
You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.
There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.
"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."
You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.
He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.
"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."
He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.
"I'm pregnant. It's yours."
You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"
"Are you sure?"
You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"
"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"
"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."
"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."
"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.
"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."
"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"
"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.
"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"
"Yes, but."
"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."
"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."
"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."
"What about everyone else? What will they say?"
"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."
"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"
"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."
"Lewis, they're going to-"
"Once again, I don't care what people think."
"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."
"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.
"My child," you state, mushing his head back.
His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."
"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"
"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.
This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."
"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.
He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.
"Lew, that's not realistic."
"Why not?" He scoffs.
"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"
"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."
He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."
"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.
"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day." 
"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.
"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.
"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."
"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.
"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.
"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one." 
"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow. 
"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?" 
You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.
"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.
"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.
"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."
He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."
You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."
Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been. 
You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold. 
And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too. 
Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.
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I luv luv luv y'all.
so here's part two!
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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lunar-system · 4 months
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Edward Teach: The Star.
Adapted from the traditional Ride-Waite-Smith tarot, this version of the Star shows Ed kneeling down serenely by the spring of life, bare to the world, ready to heal after tumultuous events.
Stede as the Sun to follow, Izzy as the Moon can be found here.
Longer exploration of the card's symbolism under the cut.
***
The Star: Hope, openness, especially after a crisis. Renewal, healing, restoration.
Rachel Pollack writes: "This is the calm after a great change, whether it comes after a drastic planetary shift or a personal upheaval. There are still difficult times ahead, but the Star tells us to trust."
In the card Ed is depicted with a short, growing beard. Multiple personal upheavals and great changes have already happened, and he is settling into a new reality. Who is he when he is stripped from titles, uniforms and roles? In the space of the Star, he has enough trust to try and find out.
Pollack continues: "In Star, we find our inner strength and belief. The Star teaches us to accept whatever it is, to drop all our shields, to believe. The water poured out signifies healing, emotional and physical."
Ed as the Star is learning to shine his own light after witnessing Stede shine as the Sun. Trust and belief don't come easy, but as the Star he can be vulnerable enough to try again. The water flows from an infinite source, letting the emotions come and go.
Even though the Star opens up towards a bright future, Ed carries his history with him. His tattoos, pictures from other tarot cards, tell about his past:
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Chest: Three of Swords, the infamous card of heartbreak. "Trust no one."
Left side thigh: the face of the Devil from the Devil card. One of the largest tattoos he has, projecting his self-image. "I'm the devil."
Right side thigh: Lobster from the Moon card, a beast that lurks under the surface, in the unconscious. "I'm the Kraken."
Right side: wolf from the Moon card. In my depiction of the Moon, Izzy stands for the wolf. Here the loyal wolf is cast to the side, left howling after the broken heart.
Belly: Ram from the throne of the Emperor, a symbol of masculine power. The placement on the lower belly suggest a trans reading of the character.
Chest, around the heart: birds from Ace of Cups, suggesting new beginnings even for a broken heart.
With his past carved to his skin, Ed is kneeling at the edge of land. One of his feet is planted firmly on the ground while the other graces the water. In Tarot, earth is often connected to the material, such as the body, and the conscious mind. Water is the element of emotions and the subconscious. At the edge of the water, Ed is in balance, grounded both in his body and in his emotions, the conscious and the subconscious. The water he pours rejuvenates them both.
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TL;DR: After great personal upheavals, Ed as the Star is ready to heal and trust. He carries his past with him, but is ready to shine his own light and have faith in himself and for the future. He is vulnerable and at peace, and he is connected both to the ground and the water, nourishing them both with the water he pours.
***
Sources
Image source: Pamela Colman Smith, 1909, republished as Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany
Text source: Rachel Pollack, A Journey of 78 Steps, 2011, as cited in the booklet for instruction and guidance of Tarot of A. E. Waite, 2016, AGM-Urania, Germany
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dmysterioblog · 6 days
Text
I’ve Missed You
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Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader
Summary: You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought. (This is also based on the one clip of Rio pinning Agatha to the wall.)
Warnings; kidnapping, magical manipulation, manipulation, metal abuse, fingering, strap on use (r receiving), mommy kink.
Word Count: 1.9k
A/n: All these Agatha All Along trailers and teaser have motivated me to write after four months. I am so ecstatic for it to come out already! I have waited two years for this! 😭
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You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. You told her everything about Agatha’s sick plan and Wanda then was able to trick Agatha and put her under spell, trapping her in Westview. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. She even casted runes around the house.
A couple months after those events you found out about Wanda’s death. You grieved her death little, she was the closest thing you had to a friend ever since Agatha stripped you from your friends and family, but most of all you felt fear. Fear that Agatha would come out of the spell and go looking for you especially because Wanda’s runes had disappeared.
You were paranoid for months until you had confirmation that she was still in Westview under the spell. You spent the next three years in hiding. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought.
It was around mid day when you found yourself in the kitchen making some coffee. You were just wearing a robe and your hair was laying wild over your shoulders. As you were pouring the milk into your coffee, you heard a noise outside. You frowned and walked over to the window and saw nothing. As you were about to get back to your coffee, you heard it again. You grabbed a knife and walked over to the front door. Before you could even open it, the door burst over and someone pinned you against the wall, making you drop the knife.
“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” That voice…you hadn’t heard it in so long, it made your skin crawl.
“A-agatha?” your voice trembled as you said her name. You looked into her eyes, she looked the same, she hadn’t aged a day yet she looked older in a way. Maybe it was the dark circles that laid under her eyes. She gave you a sinister smile moving her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.
“You look as beautiful as the day you left me.”
“How did you free yourself? And how did you find me-”
“I had some help,” she simply said, moving her hand to your neck and squeezing lightly, “I didn’t appreciate you betraying me and running away. Did you really think you could get away from me?” she pouted mockingly.
“Agatha please-” you wrapped your hand around her wrist.
“Say that again, you know how much I love to hear you beg.”
“P-please don’t hurt m-me…” your voice cracked. You were terrified of this woman’s power, of what she could do. Agatha dismissed your pleas and started kissing down your neck, surprisingly gentle.
“God, I missed you so much,” her hand sneaked underneath your robe to grip onto your waist, “Wanda did quite the number on me but now she’s not here to save you,” she whispered harshly into your ear and a tear silently ran down your cheek.
“Shh, baby, there's no need to cry,” she wiped the tear away, “I promise to take my time with you.” She started dragging you to your bedroom and you just let her, you knew better than to fight back. She pushed you on your bed and started undressing. Even if she was manipulative she was still very attractive. Something you would never admit. When she was done, she crawled on top of you, still leaving your robe on.
“Look at me,” she said when you looked everywhere but her. You just wanted this to be over with. “I said look at me,” she demanded, cupping your face, making you look at her. Usually when you looked into her eyes, all you saw was lust and possessiveness but this time, there was something different.
“Tell me you missed me, Y/n. Tell me you missed my touch.” she pleaded. This was very out of character for her. She never showed vulnerability. Ever. Yet, here she was asking you if you missed her as if her life depended on it.
“I…” she started to kiss your neck again, nipping at it, “I missed you too,” you finally said. It wasn’t a complete lie, a small part of you did miss her. She did kidnap you but she still took care of you and gave you everything you had ever wanted.
“Good girl~” she finally started to untie your robe.
“Aggie-” you tried to protest, gripping into her wrist but she pinned your hand above your head with her magical binds.
“Shh, just relax,” she took off your robe, leaving you completely bare, “I’m going to take care of you.”
“All you do is h-hurt me…”
“That’s because you disobeyed me. I had to discipline you,” she said, manipulating you into thinking it was your fault, “If only you just did as you were told, I wouldn't have had to hurt you bunny…” she softly ran her nails down your waist and hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You remained quiet, not saying a word as her fingers moved closer to your core.
“I can’t wait to have you all to myself again,” she finally dipped her fingers into your wetness, chuckling at the fact that you were absolutely soaked for her. She started to slowly circle your clit, her breath hot against your ear.
“You were always so ready for me, baby. Your body still remembers me.” You whimpered when the pleasure caught up to you. You hadn’t touched yourself for so long. Your thoughts undoubtedly went to Agatha every time you tried so you gave up trying to find relief.
She chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by your whimpers. She started to move her fingers faster, applying more pressure to your clit.
“I bet you haven’t touched yourself since you left me. You were too afraid to think about me, weren’t you?”
“…yes.” You replied, biting your lip when she sped up her movements.
“That’s what I thought. You knew that no one could make you feel as good as I do. No one can satisfy you like I can,” she smiled and leaned down to suck on your neck, leaving a dark spot.
“N-no one can…” You said, your brain turning into mush as she slipped her fingers inside you.
“I’m the only one who knows you better than you know yourself. You can barely take care of yourself, baby. You need me.” Agatha was doing what she knew best, manipulating you. She could put you under her spell again but she wanted you to willingly submit to her. She could feel your body starting to tense up as she continued to work her fingers inside you. She moved her lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses along the way.
“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Do you remember the rules?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, tugging at the binds slightly.
“What do you say then?” she slowed down her movements, loving to see you so desperate for her touch.
“Can I cum please?”
“Beg me, baby. I want to hear you beg for me.”
“Please mommy? I promise to be a good girl!” And there it was. She finally had you exactly where she wanted you. She smirked at your words, her eyes darkened with lust.
“That’s my good girl. You always know how to please me. Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She freed your hands and you clung to her as you rode your high, moving your hips against her hand. She spoke sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you before finally pulling her fingers out and kissing your forehead. You thought it was over until you felt something poking your entrance again.
“Mommy?” You mumbled again, trying to clench your thighs together. She smiled and gently caressed your face.
“I’m not done with you yet, baby. You still have a lot to make up for~”
“No more-” you tried to push her away but she didn’t budge. She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.
“Don’t tell me no, darling. You’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you. Understood? Don’t you want mommy to feel good too?” She started rubbing the tip of her enchanted strap against your pussy lips. She’d fucked you with the strap many times and she could feel everything which is why it was her favorite toy to use on you.
“But I’m too sensitive.” You whined.
“You can handle it, baby,” she chuckled and slowly pushed the tip of the strap inside you, “You’ve done it before…” she started to move her hips, pushing the strap deeper inside you. The strap slipped right in, your juices making it quite easy.
“Fuck, baby. You still feel so fucking tight. You’re taking me so well. You’re such a good girl~” Agatha groaned. Your pained whimpers soon turned into pleasurable moans and the knot in your stomach started to build up again. She continued to thrust into you, her movements becoming more erratic as she felt her own pleasure building up. She leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“That’s it, baby. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. I want to hear you scream my name when you cum.”
“A-Aggie-“ You dug your nails onto her back. She let out a low growl, her grip on your hips tightening.
“Say it again, baby. Say my name again.”
“Agatha!” You came again, your pussy pulsing around her strap as your legs started to shake. Agatha let out a moan as she felt you cum around her strap, her own orgasm washing over her. She continued to thrust into you a few more times before pulling out and collapsing on top of you.
“That’s my good girl. You did so well, baby,” she started petting your hair as if you were a pet. She pulled you closer, holding you in her arms. She ran her fingers through your hair, her voice soft.
“You’re mine and no one else’s. You’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understand? You don’t want mommy to have to hurt for not listening, do you?” You frantically shook your head, burning your face in her neck. She gripped your hair and pulled your head back, forcing you to look at her.
“I said, do you understand? You will do as I say. You will obey me. You are mine to control and use as I please. Don’t make me punish you, baby.”
“I u-understand…” your eyes watered a bit, now you were really trapped. She smiled and released your hair, her hand gently stroking your cheek.
“Good girl. I knew you would see things my way. You’re so much more compliant when your brain is turned into mush, isn’t that right? Maybe I’ll have to fuck you more often so you don’t fight me,” she kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms around you possessively. Agatha held you tightly, enjoying the feeling of having you in her arms again. She ran her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. She could see the gears turning in your head and spoke up again.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love being mine again. And I’ll take good care of you, I promise. You won’t want anything as long as you’re with me…”
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