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#might do more of these..........these were fun
incognit0slut · 17 hours
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REFLECTED BLISS
When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here
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“Oh my god.”
“What? What is it?”
“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”
He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”
“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”
His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”
“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.” 
“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”
“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”
He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”
Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.
Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.
He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. 
“I guess that makes sense.”
His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”
“Perks, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”
“Is it working?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”
He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”
But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.
“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”
“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”
His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse. 
“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”
You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”
His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.
“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.
He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”
He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.
“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”
He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”
You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.
“Convince me more.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt. 
“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”
You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”
You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you. 
"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"
Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.
"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"
More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.
His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.
"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?" 
“It’s making my clothes disappear.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”
“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”
“I do love a good magic trick.”
You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully. 
“You’re so beautiful.”
You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.
“You’re… you’re pretty too.”
His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.
His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.
You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.
With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.
“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.” 
Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.
His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own. 
You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.
“Yes, baby?”
Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.
You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”
Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.
He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours. 
Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”
You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.
“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”
You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.
The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."
Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.
"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”
“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.
"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.
"It intensifies, doesn't it?"
Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”
“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.
You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes. 
You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.
“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”
You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.
“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”
You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot. 
The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.
"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”
You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.
A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.
The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.
Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.
You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?" 
"Definitely too much.”
"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.
He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”
"Getting there.”
You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”
You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.
"Almost. Still too much."
Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.
"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”
“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"
“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."
“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”
“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”
“Cockiness does not suit you.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”
You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust. 
You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.
"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.
You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.
Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.
“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”
Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.
“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”
Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.
“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin. 
"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”
Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”
The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.
You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge. 
"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.
"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”
You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside…  me.”
Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”
“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”
That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.
His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.
Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.
Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.
You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.
“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."
He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.
“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.
He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”
You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?
Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.
Maybe you should get one for your room.
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wndaswife · 1 day
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To your stepmother’s surprise, you come home from a Christmas party asking for her to care for you; it’s been months since her wedding to your father and months since you’ve paid her any attention at all.
Tags: angst, kiiinda fluffy, stepmom wanda loving you so so much, almost nearly unrequited love
drabble for matriarchal disturbance
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I forgot my keys. 
You texted Wanda some time during the evening once you realized you had forgotten them, and since she was the only one at home until tomorrow, she’d have to let you in. Or at least keep the door unlocked. 
Oh no. It’s okay, I have work to do so I can unlock the door when you come home. :)
It was Christmas break and you were home for just a little, so you were out drinking with some friends from high school and some of their new college friends. 
Wanda had texted you a week or two prior asking when you might be coming home. You didn’t answer — you didn’t ever feel in the mood to talk with your stepmother — but you knew it was still her curiosity talking through your father when he called a few days after you left her on read, asking the same question. 
They were both happy to have you home, but Wanda particularly, though you could tell she was trying not to be overbearing. 
She offered to make you tea or coffee once you were unpacking and offered to make you whatever you wanted for dinner that evening, and very subtly tried asking if you’d be home all break or if you might consider staying longer than when you planned to leave. 
Your holiday break ended much later than the day you were planning on leaving, but you didn’t want to stay around much longer than was necessary — you’d spend New Year’s at home, and then you’d leave. 
You weren’t really excited to be home, but you weren’t so cruel as to not come back for the holidays. 
Still, you weren’t really looking forward to having to deal with your stepmother’s longing, curious looks, always wanting to talk with you or bring something up but not knowing how to and not wanting to spoil her limited time with you. 
The feeling you got from seeing her look at you from the corner of your eye wasn’t necessarily all a form of annoyance, but some kinds of pity too, and perhaps some guilt. 
There was something about the Christmas party that sorta had you feeling down, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, though perhaps it was simply because there were many things that had bothered you and you just couldn't pin it down to one thing. 
It was something about meeting some of your friends’ other friends, and even some of their new partners. You hadn’t drunk anything, and perhaps it would’ve been worse for you if you did — you tended to get a bit more emotional while drunk. 
All in all, you just felt… left out. And like you were missing something, or like you never wanted to be there at all. 
You wanted to be somewhere you belonged and where your presence was not only enjoyed but needed — somewhere it was warm and loving and kind and soft. 
While seeing all your friends together with their new ones and their partners, you just kept thinking of Wanda.
And you really hated yourself for it. 
You wanted to go home to see her, and you knew you couldn’t stop it, because you’d been thinking of her all night. So you drank enough to feel just a little drunk — to get just enough confidence to make a bad decision — and went back home early. 
From the window facing the street, you could see through the curtains that the living room lamp was on.
Wanda opened the door when you knocked like she said she would. From the door, you could see a book laying on the couch. She smiled at the sight of you. 
“Did you have fun?” she asked immediately, stepping back a bit to allow you in. Then she said sympathetically after taking a better look at you, “You look a bit tired.”
You thanked the stars for having taken a few shots before you left. 
You stepped into the house and wrapped your arms around Wanda, feeling the warmth of her knitted sweater against your cheek, then against the tip of your nose when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of her neck. Her hair tickled the space between your eyebrows. 
There was a split moment before she wrapped her arms around you that would have been indiscernible if you hadn’t felt how immediate her embraces were a million-and-one times before. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” Wanda asked, having turned her head to look down at you so the breath of her soft whispered voice blew warm and gentle against your ear. 
“I wanna be your baby again,” you confessed — stupidly. 
Wanda tried to speak immediately for how she felt deep in her chest when you spoke the words she had only dreamt would come out of your mouth ever since the wedding, but found she could speak only in stutters. 
Then she finally said, “You’ll always be my baby, Y/N.”
You hugged her tighter and you knew that if you hadn’t been just a little bit drunk, you would’ve been angry at what she had just said. But now, it could nearly make you cry. 
“Can you bring me to bed?” you mumbled quietly into her neck, still seemingly a bit embarrassed through your drunken state. 
“Of course,” she answered, smiling down at you. This was the closest you’d been to her in months, and likely the longest you’ve spoken to her with undivided attention in that same span of time too. She almost didn’t want to move at all for how you’d unwrap your arms from around her once you headed up the stairs together. 
You unwrapped yourself from around her body and she closed and locked the front door; you’d literally just been standing embracing each other in the wide-open doorway for several moments. 
Then you swiped at your eyes when you pulled away in case you accidentally had cried. 
Wanda smiled at you sweetly, and a bit tiredly too, and you knew she must’ve finished her work a little bit ago and decided to stay up to wait for you. She took your hand and you walked up the stairs beside each other in silence. 
She squeezed your hand and you squeezed back, and Wanda looked over her shoulder at you shyly as you stared down at the steps of the staircase. 
“Can I help you get ready for bed?” she asked once you both arrived in front of the washroom. 
You nodded silently then looked up at her with a small smile. “I just have to get my stuff from my bags,” you told her. Then, a bit hesitantly, you let go of her hand and walked towards your bedroom. 
Wanda turned on the washroom light and paced around a little, playing with the knitted fabric of her sweater nervously and checking her hair a bit in the mirror, and even trying to repress a tiny smile as she couldn’t help but make comparisons to how it all used to be before the wedding. 
But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself — after all, every day after this would be different, and whatever had caused you to come seeking her comfort wasn’t guaranteed to happen again from tonight onwards. 
You came into the washroom with a little bag of your toiletries and started unpacking them, starting with makeup wipes and face wash then everything else. 
“Come lean against the counter,” Wanda said, and you did. She began removing your makeup with one of your makeup wipes, the fingers of her other hand delicately perched under your chin to keep your face in the light. 
She was gentle with how she swiped against your face, and thorough with taking all the makeup off. 
Wanda was always so nice and gentle. In taking care of you, and in treating you in any way, really, she always did it as if you were delicate, and special to her too. She never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you feel like you weren't the most important thing in the world to her. 
You felt like crying, but really didn’t want to ruin how casual you were trying to make everything seem. 
She must’ve noticed how your eyes were filling with tears because once she finished she set the makeup wipe down and held you to her chest wordlessly, running her hand down the side of your head soothingly with her other arm wrapped around your waist. 
She seemed to understand that you still had your reservations about being with her like this again, and that you weren’t trying not to get into things too quickly. 
Even so, she couldn’t help but… hope, even just a little, that the feeling of how she held you and brought you close might make you miss her enough to want to be her baby again for more than just an evening. 
“I’m gonna brush my teeth and stuff,” you mumbled and straightened out of her hold, swiping at your eyes again.
Wanda packed up your makeup wipes and slid it back into the toiletry bag you brought. 
Quietly, you asked, “Can I sleep with you?”
You weren’t really sure where to look when you asked, so you tried to keep busy getting your toothbrush ready. 
But when Wanda replied with a gentle, almost eager, ‘Of course,’ you couldn’t help but look over at her to see her smiling at you.
You looked away while she told you that she would also change and get ready while she waited for you — her shared bedroom had a washroom in it. 
Wanda felt ridiculous for how she felt in her stomach — a familiar fluttering feeling dancing around where it would when you were still together. Sometimes Wanda reasoned the memory of the feeling up to a fantasy, that perhaps she may have recalled it as differently as it had been for it’d been so long since she’d felt it. 
But it was exactly the same as she recalled. 
And it was only with you. 
She hadn’t realized she had been smiling until she heard you come into the bedroom, and she instinctively relaxed her face so as to not be overzealous and overwhelm you. 
“Are you ready for bed?” she asked, closing the door of the walk-in closet as she stood in her pajama shorts and tank. 
You nodded then looked away from her for how happy you felt to be asked that, to soon be adorned by Wanda’s kisses and touched by her gentle, loving hands and embraced by her arms the moment you got into bed. 
Wanda seemed to be hesitant at your reluctance for a moment. Her fingers twitched with the urge to walk over and embrace you, to kiss your lips and lead you to her bed. But instead, restraining herself, she went to bed first, getting under the covers and looking over at you encouragingly. 
Silently, you followed after closing the bedroom door. 
She turned off the lamp on her side and you hesitated for a moment before you reached over and did the same. 
Then you were blanketed in the darkness of the bedroom, and for a moment you couldn’t see Wanda in your peripheral vision at all; you could for a moment construe the feelings of blankets under your hands as being in your own bed instead of hers. 
For a moment you felt glad to imagine you had made it all up, but then you felt terribly disappointed and lonely again. 
Without Wanda, it was always just a little bit… lonely. 
But the burst of sudden feelings was contained only within a few moments’ time, for your eyes soon adjusted and you could see the shadow of your stepmother beside you. 
She reached out for you, her hand moving under the blankets and placing it on your bare thigh. She moved closer. 
“Don’t be nervous,” she said quietly. “It’s okay.”
You’d been here before — in Wanda’s bed without your dad being home, in her company, in the spotlight of her undivided attention, in the warm shower of all her heart could pour out for you and only you. 
It was was familiar with Wanda and you knew it for it was the closest thing you’d felt in a while to being somewhere you were certain you belonged in. 
Then she added, “I want you here, Y/N.”
Like you had asked her, Wanda babied you — she cared for you. Her other hand wrapped around your waist and she slowly urged your body to lay down beside her. 
She didn’t stop there; she moved herself onto her elbow only slightly to gain height over you, then cupped your furthest cheek with her hand. She kissed your face gently, tenderly, on your temple then on your cheekbone, and your chin. 
Not your lips — not unless it was you who made an advance towards her first. 
You turned and wrapped an arm around her torso securely, burying your face in her chest. She lowered herself back down and wrapped her arms around you immediately. 
Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered against her, “I love you.”
In the morning when you arose before her, you carefully peeled yourself away from a soundly-sleeping Wanda. There was a pang in your chest as you sat at the edge of the bed, recalling how she held you close after you had told her you loved her.
She held you in a way that communicated desperation and longing; it wasn’t only sweet and tender like she always was, but pained, too. She had cradled the back of your head to her chest, rubbed your upper back and pressed her lips against the top of your head. 
She might’ve nearly said that she loved you a fourth time, though you presumed she had tried to contain the way she wanted to pour herself out for you right then and there. 
You turned and watched as she dozed, her body the very same that you were held against through the night, the same you had thrown yourself into her arms of and were accepted and loved and cared for like you wanted, like Wanda wanted. 
How at peace she seemed having gone to sleep with you in her arms, with all she had been longing for warm in her embrace and sleeping in the eternal comfort of her loving. 
If you were honest with yourself, and you tried to be for how often you lied to Wanda, you didn’t think it was a lie when you told her you loved her, for you still did. 
And you still could, inviting her over to your place and responding to her calls and texts when you were away, letting her care for you and at the very least not pretend she wasn’t always looking at you, waiting only for your eye contact as cue for her to bring up one of the dozens of questions and worries she had about the life that you no longer shared with her — which was to say, all of it. 
Wanda stirred and her fingers flexed outwards slightly, reflecting a slowly-rising sun’s beams against her wedding ring, before she relaxed again, still in deep sleep. 
Just under an hour later once Wanda woke up to find you gone, she texted asking where you were. 
When she texted, you knew that she must have looked first to see if you had moved to your own bed, for you had left and decided to go on a drive. 
She messaged: Have you gone out?
Sitting in a parking lot of a walking trail with the breakfast you picked up, the sun only just having fully risen, you texted back. 
Forgot something at Kate’s last night.
She asked if you were going to eat breakfast there or if you would be home to have breakfast with her; she’d make some now so it could be ready by the time you got back. 
You tried to keep eating after choosing to leave your stepmother on read, but soon lost your appetite. Instead, you went on a walk that lasted until the early afternoon when your dad got back home. 
As you had planned, you went back to your place on the second of January, and that evening wasn’t ever brought up. 
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bluejutdae · 2 days
Text
best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Hyunjin x you
Chan , Minho, Changbin, Jisung , Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin.
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a/n: finally I managed to write the last part of this series, the Hyunjin part! There’s not much “saving” here because I had this dramatic idea in my head and I didn’t want to renounce to it. Enjoy!
The rain outside has been incessant for days, so many that it started to be difficult to recognize the time of the day just by looking at the sky. Everything it’s gray, and you almost forgot about this date. The guy is the cousin of one of your colleagues, and you would have canceled it if only you had a bit more hope. Not on this date, you know it’s gonna end up with you telling the guy it’s not the time for you for a relationship or some other fake excuse, you’ll apologize for wasting his time and the truth is: you do feel sorry for wasting his time, but staying home knowing Hyunjin is probably out there kissing his girlfriend and having fun made you a bit selfish. You ignored him for the last 5 days, after he called you at 2 am and you couldn’t help it but hope it meant something. But what would it mean? You’ll never know, cause you didn’t answer.
Your heartache clings to you like molasses, covers you head to toes, you can feel it under your teeth. You’re so used to it, it doesn’t scare you anymore. But it’s so tiring to wake up everyday and do the same routine: wear your clothes, slip in your shoes, put on your grief, grab your purse. Day after day.
The restaurant you’re having your date at is a nice one, you often order takeout from it. The only downside is that it doesn’t deliver home, so anytime you want its amazing food, you have to get out of your house and come collect it. It’s worth it.
Shivering in your cute top, you nod to something your date just said and reach for the wine glass. You have nothing in common with him, you barely remember his name. Was it Minjoon? Minhyun? Once again something distracts you from the conversation (it’s a monologue, at this point) when you hear your phone chime, signaling a message. And since love is blind, and most days it’s also stupid, you can clearly recognize the tune you use for Hyunjin and Hyunjin only.
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You have been ignoring him, but you were sure he didn’t even notice. Ten minutes pass and you’re on the verge of just leaving the date, apologize profusely and go home to cry. The bell on the door chimes as someone enters and, once again not paying attention to the man in front of you, your eyes wanders to look at whoever enters. It could have been a couple grabbing dinner, it could have been parents celebrating their kid’s success, it could have been anyone. But just as love is blind, so is luck. Because it’s Hyunjin who just entered the restaurant, and it’s Hyunjin looking directly at you, eyebrows knit in a frown and a sour expression distorting his lips. You’re frozen in your seat, watching him shaking his head, speaking with a waiter, collecting his dinner and leaving. You can't have him leave like this. Something in your gut is telling you it’s now or never, if you let him go now, you might as well let him go forever. And you’re not ready for that.
In a blur of apologies and confused sentences you leave your share of money on the tablecloth and, grabbing your purse, you flee the restaurant. It doesn’t matter that you left your jacket on the back of your chair, it doesn’t matter that’s it’s pouring outside, it matters only your voice calling his name.
He doesn’t turn, doesn’t stop, keeps on waking under the rain, head down and fast steps. You start doing that awkward running walk, reaching to grab his wrist. This effectively makes him stop, but he looks displeased.
“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”
“You’re on a date.” He frees himself from your grasp, almost like your touch burns him.
“So?”
“So you’re having dinner with another man. Why would I interrupt?”
“Because you always come say ‘hi’ when you meet me by chance.”
“Not when you’re on a date!” He snips. You’re still both under the rain. For a moment you wonder why he hasn’t insisted on moving under a covering. You haven’t because the cold rain is soothing your nerves, soothing the pain you feel anytime you’re too close to him. Did Icarus feel like this when he was soaring too close to the sun? Did he wish for the rain when the scorching wax burned his skin? Did he love the freedom so much he reveled in the pain, hating it at the same time?
“I never go on dates!”
“Clearly, you do.”
You sigh, “this was my first date in 4 years, Hyune.”
“And I didn’t know you had a date, wanna guess why? Because you ignored me for days!” He uses his free hand to push back the strands of hair that fell on his face, dripping wet.
“I thought you were busy. Last time we talked you were really focused on getting ready to meet your girlfriend. Why would I interrupt that?” He’s baffled, and rightly so. In the past, you had no qualms about texting him at all hours.
“Well, I was focused”, you can hear his mocking tone. When did this transform into a fight? “because I was meeting her to put an end to our relationship, because I realized I’ll never be in love with her because I am crazy in love with you. And I tried to call you because I needed to tell you so, I needed to know I did the right thing. I thought this wasn’t one sided. And yet you ignored me and- fuck” he laughs disheartened. “-and went on a date with another man.”
“I- you, what?” You blink rapidly, drops of rain blurring your sight. “You broke up with her? For…” you can’t say it. You can’t bring yourself to say ‘for me’, because it’d make it real. And it could be the best thing or the worst thing. Or both, at the same time. Did Icarus ever think he’d succeed? Did he ever consider he could fly, escape and be free; or did he -like you- only ever imagined failure in front of him? Was he like you, swimming stroke after stroke towards something, wishing for the best but never thinking it could come true? There’s a certain push that animates the despairings, there’s no fight or flight response. There’s only the pilgrimage towards the unreachable goal.
“For you.”
A beat passes. Another. Another one.
“Since when?”
“Since you held my hand after that nightmare. Since I realized I'm not scared when I’m with you.”
There’s something they don’t tell you about desperation, about wanting something so bad that you can feel it missing from your own body. For weeks, for months, you get used to the longing, the yearning. When you can finally wrap your hands around his shoulder, when you can press your lips against his and hear him utter a soft groan, all that you used to feel transforms into electricity, it runs through your whole body and sets you aflame from the inside. This kind of burning, though? It’s a welcomed feeling.
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unstable-samurai · 18 hours
Text
Breathing This Calm Night - smut
Yunjin x Male Reader
ONE-SHOT
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Tags: fluff, oral sex, one-shot, tightjob, penetration, k-idol, famous girl, secret relationship
A/n: This is my first request. Thanks @dav1233555 for the plot suggestion 🫡
The two of you were anxiously dragging yourself towards the end of the day. Slowly the hours passed, seeming to last longer than they should, while a hurried and hard routine was followed, with no time to even exchange a few messages.
But you were finally free, at least for now, from the mess that is a magazine of international relevance.
I am arriving
You read the message and smiled at the phone screen. It wasn't crowded at the restaurant you chose to have dinner at. You reflected for a moment, and thought there was a bit of madness in what you two were doing, but it was indisputable that it was genuine and pure.
Truth be told, this whole thing was real. And thinking that this could be a bit crazy (in other people's eyes, to be more precise) only made your panoramic view of society more bitter.
After all, what was so great about being a foreigner and dating a K-idol? Well, you weren't the guy who was going to change the view of an entire society, so worrying about it was useless.
At least there was some security that this relationship would not be leaked to the media. Well, you were in fact part of the fucking media. There was support from the magazine you worked for (not that you were the owner or anything), and at least no one on your team would poke your eye out. Some other editors you trust already knew about your relationship. It was one of the countless advantages of being in a high position in the company and having a strong influence on what happened inside. I mean, someone from the magazine could try to fuck with you, snakes exist everywhere, doing this in an attempt to self-promote or even abandon ship, handing over the leak of your relationship to another magazine or tabloid (in the headline the motherfuckers would find a way to use the word "affair", just because your previous relationship ended a month before you met Yunjin). But you would discover the funny guy so easily that there wouldn't even be any fun in solving the mystery. All it took was a single call to your father, simply the greatest editor-in-chief who worked at the magazine's headquarters. Already retired, but still exercising great decision-making power thanks to his long years of contributions to the magazine. Your old man was seen almost as a royal advisor or a wise monk where directors, managers and editors from various sectors of the magazine went to ask for advice and help. You were relatively shielded from leaks.
You noticed her approaching. Well disguised, with glasses, hair tied back and comfortable clothes. She looked like just another ordinary girl. You couldn't help but notice the NY Knicks sweatshirt you had given her as a gift, it was both of your favorite team.
She greeted you with a discreet hug. You still hadn't gotten used to the fact that you couldn't give a peck in public.
"Hi, baby! How are you?" she asked you as she sat down at the table.
"Better now, honey. What about you?"
"The same!"
"Was the day as hard as always?" you asked.
"Definitely!" she replied. Yunjin seemed eager for this question. She continued, “In the morning I had rap class. By the way, I think I'm getting better. Oh, and in the afternoon I recorded my lines, like, over and over again. very specific of what he wants for this track. The music producer has a very specific vision of what he wants for this track. He apologized and admitted that it might take some time to achieve the desired result.”
"Well, I trust your talent. Remember that you and your group are dealing with a delicate concept. I have seen up close the production of albums that address intimate themes, it is always a challenge, but also a true work and certainly a amazing gift for the fans. You girls are going to do great."
Yunjin laughed, a little shyly.
"It feels like I'm talking to a music critic instead of my boyfriend."
"Well, you're actually talking to a music critic. Oh, by the way, I remembered that I won't be writing the article about Le Sserafim's new album like I said before."
Her expression was one of surprise. Yunjin asked:
"Is it because of me?”
"Yes." you answered honestly. “Well, look, love, I'm prioritizing our relationship and thinking about the future. If this is for real, eventually the press will hear about us together, and a review from me about my girlfriend's music group obviously. it would make my opinion seem partial and biased. It's just to avoid future problems."
"Okay" she looked upset. "But I'll still want to know your opinion when you hear the album."
"I'm really looking forward to hearing it." You smiled, making her feel better. "I left the review about the new album for a good friend of mine to write. I really respect her opinion."
"I think we're in good hands. But let's stop talking about work for a bit!"
The waiter seemed to have heard Yunjin's speech as he appeared to save them right after she finished saying that. Yunjin had great taste in food, that's why she always chose the order for the two of you, you weren't the "culinary trailblazer" type; a few months in South Korea and you only knew five typical dishes (always returning to the arms of the big fast-food chains).
"Oh, I almost forgot to give you this!" You handed her a gift. "It had been on my lap for so long that I had forgotten I had brought it with me."
"Oh, baby! You didn't have to do that!"
She started to unwrap it.
"Hope you like."
You waited for her reaction. Yunjin smiled and made a cute little noise when she saw that it was a book (although she already knew from the shape of the gift wrap).
"You know I love reading! Thank you so much."
"It's The Alchemist. I know you love fantasy and this silly self-help thing. This book is a mix of both."
You saw her eyes light up.
"You're perfect. I love how well you know me. And self-help isn't silly, it's very good for evolving as a human being." she scolded you.
You shrugged.
"It's not the kind of thing I'd like to put on my bookshelf. But to each their own.”
She laughed.
"I'm still going to make you read one of these."
"Well, I've already read The Alchemist. And if I thought it was average, you'll think it's a masterpiece."
It was around 10pm when the two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Dinner was very good, especially dessert (that bingsu thing was really awesome), and by that night there was no more energy for more fun, it was preferable to have a good night's sleep so that the next day you could do something together. Even so, Yunjin hummed excitedly in the car on the way home. You appreciated all that joy.
You took off your shoes when Yunjin took off her NY Knicks sweatshirt, leaving only a tight tank top on her body. You noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra by the way her breasts showed through the fabric of her tank top. You slowly approached her and grabbed her from behind, kissing her repeatedly. Yunjin wrapped her hands around your neck as she giggled at the series of kisses.
“Will you be my teddy bear tonight?” she asked sweetly. “I need your affection so much, baby.”
“Whatever you need, sweetie.” você disse enquanto beijava ela no pescoço.
As coisas iam esquentando. Your hands slid down Yunjin's soft belly, heavy sighs escaped her mouth unconsciously.
“Look, we still need to shower.” she said.
"No problem." you answered.
“You're putting me in the mood. I'm warning you that if you keep touching me like this, you're going to have to go all the way to finish what you started.”
“And since when has this been a problem for me?” you asked as you led her to the couch.
You took off your shirt and belt from your pants. Yunjin took off her jeans, leaving only her tank top and adorable pink panties. Your hand slid down Yunjin's left thigh while you kissed her right thigh. That was more than enough to give her goosebumps. She had her legs wide open, waiting, almost begging, for you to touch that place. Instead of doing it right away, you decided to play with her a little, kissing and biting her inner thigh while using one of your hands to lightly massage her pussy through her panties. Your lips slid to Yunjin's crotch, where you licked the entire area, she reveled in the act, trying hard not to close her legs with the spasms she was having. It didn't take long for a wet stain to darken the pink of the panties. When you finally removed Yunjin's panties, you saw how wet she was. So horny that she couldn't wait for you, fingering her pussy slowly, opening it with her fingers so you could see how drooling she was; a successful action of provoking you. Then you realized how hard your cock was, pulsing in your pants, painfully tight, which made you hornier.
Without wasting any more time, you dived between Yunjin's legs, eager to taste her (that flavor that was becoming increasingly familiar and addictive… Part of your life. Yeah, we could put it that way), your tongue delighting in the taste and the cozy warmth of the inside of her pussy, while Yunjin moaned softly, digging her nails into the sofa cushions.
“I love it when you suck me like that, baby. I feel so wanted!” she moaned.
At one point she asked to stop because her lust was unbearable and that way he would have an orgasm in a short time.
“I want to feel your cock inside me now.” she said. You had just taken off your underwear when she added, “Wait, what if we fuck in the bathroom. Let’s save time, what do you think?”
Your response was to lift her off the couch and take her to the bathroom. You turned on the light with your elbow and, before you could think of anything, she said:
“Fuck me like this! Your cock goes deep into my pussy when you fuck me in the air.”
You kissed her intensely while you tried to fit your dick into her pussy. The feeling of your cock sliding inside Yunjin was wonderful. Upon realizing that your cock was well placed inside her, you grabbed Yunjin's thighs tightly and began to thrust into her energetically while she held onto you, moaning compulsively.
And Yunjin was right, your dick went deep in that position. You could feel her deep inside, the entire length of your cock was being used, and she loved it. When she announced her orgasm, you wanted to make sure it was intense and pleasurable, the way it made her roll her eyes, so you lifted her a little higher, grabbing her ass, while Yunjin wrapped her legs inside your arms, making her practically hang from you and her pussy is completely inside your dick.
“Oh God, Baby! I’m cumming!”
She trembled holding onto you, while you practically rubbed her pussy on your dick, always rotating it close to your body. It was just a shame that you couldn't enjoy her eyes rolling back at the moment of orgasm, you simply loved seeing her go crazy with pleasure, but there was also a certain contentment in just knowing that it happened.
You sat Yunjin down on the sink and there you started fucking her again, looking deeply into her eyes. At one point she looked at you with so much passion, so much desire that there was a sudden growing desire to fill her pussy with your load of cum.
“Hang me, love.” she asked affectionately.
Her hand wrapped around just over half of her neck, serving as support to fuck her even harder. Sweat running down both bodies, your gaze was lost between the mirror's reflection, her eyes, her tits and her expressions of pleasure. With the sensations highlighted, you realized how much you loved Yunjin and how much this feeling contributed to eminent pleasure during sex.
Holy shit! You were almost there.
You thought about how much you wanted to go deep into this, literally to the end, but you were without a condom and suddenly stopping the act to go get a condom at the end of the championship was a bit... discouraging.
But you have an idea.
“Stand up, sweetie” you said. “Let’s try something new.”
Yunjin got out of the sink, looking at you excitedly.
“Get in the shower stall with me.” you asked, opening the door.
"What do you want to do?"
“It’s nothing out of this world, but it occurred to me that you’ve never given me a tightjob, I think it’s time we tried it.”
She had some assumptions about what this position was, but you helped her anyway. Yunjin was a rather tall girl, so there were no problems for your dick to fit between her thighs, the result was perfect, nothing uncomfortable. You thought about turning on the shower to lube up a little, but her pussy was so wet and the continuous sweat running down between her thighs was already more than great. You grabbed Yunjin's waist tightly and she crossed her legs a little, squeezing your dick.
You began to thrust into her, your cock sliding back and forth as you dragged Yunjin's labia. So you discovered in the best way that this was very pleasurable for both of you. The internal heat started inside you again and gradually you lost yourself in that exciting sensation. As you approached the final explosion, you bestially grabbed Yunjin in every way possible, sliding your sweat-damp hands down her belly, squeezing her breasts and slapping her ass. You lost yourself in the voluptuousness that was Yunjin's body and- Fuck! She loved it. She loved being your instrument of pleasure, knowing that the person she loved so much reached maddening peaks of passion, desire and lust for her. A juice of feelings for an insatiable thirst.
“Oh baby! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna-”
Without any warning, Yunjin began to move her hips in a rhythm that immediately took you to the precipice of pleasure. The soft, hot, wet, suffocating skin of her thighs dancing over your cock. This was too much for you. When you came, you hugged Yunjin tightly, holding her as if your life depended on it, giving in to inconstant and uncontrollable moans close to her ear. The frantic thrusts lost their rhythm, going deeper and slower through Yunjin's thighs. She held your arms affectionately, waiting for your breathing to become less labored before kissing you.
"I love you." You said to her.
The phrase was so loaded with something that covered your feelings at that moment, and you wished she was the woman of your life and would never leave your side.
"I love you too!" said Yunjin when she found a way out of your tongue. “Baby, you don’t know how much.”
“This took longer than expected. Let’s take our shower.”
“Yep! Let's go."
You turned on the shower. The hot running water was invigorating, even more so being next to Yunjin, you didn't know that sharing certain intimacies was so special until you finally did it with her. you soaped Yunjin's entire body, she helped you wash your back and you shampooed her hair, gently massaging her scalp; it was cute how it relaxed her, she seemed so surrendered to you in that moment, and just a few months ago you were sitting across from her and the other Le Sserafim girls, asking incisive questions about the creative process of their latest album. That's where it all started, after all. And who could say where it would end?
“Hey, baby, let me shampoo your hair now.” Yunjin said with a goofy smile.
Nobody, you thought. Nobody could say.
A/n: sorry for any grammatical errors 😅
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lululandd · 3 days
Text
wrong;
pairing: könig x f!reader
wordcount: 2.5k+
warnings: fluff?
note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)
summary: 
of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.
bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..
—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.
no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.
until you slipped up, of course.
you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.
hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.
horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.
the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray. 
“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.
“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”
“two months.”
“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”
he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.” 
you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.
“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”
horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”
perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.
“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.
stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”
thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.
“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.
“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.
könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.
“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.
“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”
“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance. 
to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”
the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”
your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.
what.
blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?” 
his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”
“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”
nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”
you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.
as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”
plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”
she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”
“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”
stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”
she’s right.
but,
he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.
you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.
“your funeral, bunny number two.”
you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.
hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?
staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.
the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.
“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”
she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.
the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.
you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.
“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.
putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”
crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”
as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.
“come in, then.” she offered.
taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.
the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.
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stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat. 
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könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.
bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.
“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.
first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.
“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.
bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.
“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”
you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing. 
bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.” 
the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”
hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.
he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.
oh no.
looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.
at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.
you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”
“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.
you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”
as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.
a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.
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tadpolesonalgae · 3 days
Text
Bloodlust.[*]
Azriel x reader
a/n: thank you, anon <3, I had a lot of fun writing this 😌
warnings: smut, spitting, hate-sex, slight power imbalance?
word count: 4,170
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“Where’s your report?”
“I thought you were doing it.”
The look Azriel gives you is filled with enough ire to have a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, the hollow beneath his dark brows deepening as his classical features twist into an expression of silent hatred.
“You have thirty minutes to get it written up and on my desk,” he says shortly, words icy and clipped in the exact way that has irritation scratching at the back of your mind. “That’s completely unreasonable,” you reply bluntly. “Besides,” you say, holding his dark gaze, “I thought you were my superior. I was just there to offer assistance, so there’s no need for me to submit a formal report.”
“My desk. Half an hour,” he repeats coldly, his tone blunt and unforgiving. “Not a minute later.”
Then he turns, closing the door with enough force it creates a distinct hissing noise on the way shut, leaving you to struggle with the deadline.
————
Twenty-nine minutes later you deliver three forceful knocks to his door, blood hot as it boils in your veins, report still stuck to your clipboard which is in turn tucked beneath your arm.
“Enter,” he calls, and a muscle in your jaw ticks at the tone. Curt and demanding. Still, you step inside, allowing the door to click shut, dropping the clipboard on his desk on top of a file he was writing in, hopefully smudging the ink as the board clatters upon the surface. “Good enough?” You nearly spit, but manage to tone down the venom just enough.
Thunder claps from outside as your eyes meet, and he picks the report up, leaning back in his chair as he begins to read through the hurried scrawl. You bite down a snappy remark, hands clasped behind your back in proper fashion as you’re forced to wait for him to complete his review. You get the distinct impression he’s taking his time.
His dark eyes pause a third of the way down the page, brows narrowing before dragging his gaze to yours. “The disposal was rushed and excessively violent. Diplomacy would have been preferable, and much more suitable?” He reads aloud, voice rough and gravelly with barely restrained ire.
“You asked for my report,” you counter lowly, unable to help the disagreeable twist of your features as you glare at him. “Diplomacy did not guarantee the mission’s success. It would have been a waste of time,” he replies.
“That’s just like you to rush into violence,” you hiss, nails digging into the skin of your wrist with the amount of restraint you’re using to keep from doing something you’ll regret. “You resort to slaughter at the slightest inconvenience,” you seethe, nails piercing the skin. “Fucking Illyrian,” you spit.
Ire blazes behind his eyes, reflecting the hatred burning in your own gaze.
Not breaking eye-contact, he reaches for a blank sheet of paper and places it before him on the desk, jabbing his finger once down atop the page. “Rewrite it. Now.”
A startled laugh barks from your throat as you stare at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
You stare at him longer, furious indignation boiling your blood, able to feel as your temper begins to bubble over with blatant provocation. “You’re a spiteful piece of shit,” you seethe lowly but he doesn’t buckle beneath your rage. You wouldn’t hate him as much as you do if you could so easily get the better of him. “You just want me to write a report in your favour. You can’t stand that you might have made the wrong call.”
“It was the right call,” he replies harshly, a hiss in his voice, “your lack of experience is limiting your understanding. I knew you weren’t fit for this mission—I’ll have you moved to a more suitable position.”
“You’re the one in the wrong position,” you spit, stalking forward so you’re right before his desk. “You’re too prone to excessive violence. You needlessly took a life that could have been saved. It would have been of no consequence to us if he lived.”
“His existence would have only perpetuated the problem,” Azriel repeats lowly, his own temper beginning to show as he stands from his desk, palms flattening across its surface as he leans forward. “Purge from the roots, or it will only return. Now write the report.”
Gritting your teeth any tighter would have surely caused one to crack beneath the pressure, and you can perfectly imagine how it would feel to launch yourself across the desk and wrap your hands around his throat. To squeeze until he’s thrashing beneath you, that indomitable figure writhing beneath you as you begin to pry the life from his body…to set him alight and watch him scream.
You ease out a breath, soothed by the surprisingly violent imagery. You aren’t one to generally resort to that kind of solution, but with him it seems almost irresistible…the call of violence, how good it would feel to watch blood bead on his skin.
Frustration slightly abated, you drag the paper from beneath his hold. “Give me the clipboard.”
“You’ll complete it here, where I can see you,” he replies icily.
“Fine. Give me the clipboard,” you bite out, rage already rising again.
“You don’t need it. You’ll write it here,” he says, gesturing to the desk.
A tinge of red creeps into your vision, and it takes all your discipline not to reach for the blades tucked beneath your clothes. Stiff with rage, you drag the paper to the side of his desk, walking around to his side as you take a pen from the pot, making a point of reaching through his personal space. Then, as you’re retracting, you decide you’ve had enough of restraining yourself. “Illyrian scum,” you hiss out, gaze piercing into him as your hand tightens around the pen, clutching it as though it were a blade.
His pupils narrow into slits and his fingers crush at the soft skin of your throat. Your entire body contracts beneath the brutal touch, the tip of steel already poised to slice into leather and cut through his blackened heart. Stalemate.
“You’re a fucking piece of work,” he snarls out gutturally, expression twisted into picturesque wrath, ignoring the stinging pain as you slide the blade deeper, sharp enough to pierce the leather with ease, poised to cut into flesh. He seems to remember himself, hold lightening only marginally…enough you have to pull back on the blade or else he’ll be justified in his hostility.
“Infighting is forbidden,” you manage to get out, making sure to keep the steel close enough to his flesh he knows you won’t hesitate anymore. “You broke a rule, Spymaster.”
“And what will you do?” He asks, cruel mirth glittering in his dark hazel eyes. “Will you try for diplomacy now?” He hisses, squeezing the sides of your throat painfully.
“Why would I bother with a brute?” You rasp back, neither of you bothering to conceal the venom in your voices. “Clear aggression is the only language you’ll understand, so I’ll just have to act in a way that’ll get through that thick skull of yours.”
“Brandishing a weapon against me is enough to have you permanently removed from your position,” he hisses down at you.
“Fine,” you breathe, coming to the same conclusion as he has for the expulsion of rage that’s been building up inside of you. “Hand-to-hand combat it is.”
His hand releases your throat at the same time the blade falls from your fingertips, his grip sliding to the nape of your neck as your arms snake over his shoulders, nails raking through his hair as you’re magnetically snatched against one another, hardly a breath of air to be found between your bodies as you’re crushed against one another. Teeth flash as canines scrape, but his fingers dig into the tendon at your neck, forcing you to seize as he pries you apart with his tongue and mouth. Your lip curls in a snarl as he pushes into you, able to see how his wings have instinctively flared at his back, shadows writhing and deepening with unsuppressed fury.
Without giving him a chance to defend your arms surge further down his back, nails brandished as they scratch across the intimate skin of his wings, slicing the leathery surface jaggedly. He recoils, a vicious snarl cutting through the room that has satisfaction blazing across your chest. Rage bleeds across his features and his hand returns to your throat, shoving you down onto his desk, papers flying as ink spills across the surface, pens clattering as they drop to the floor. Your hands fly to his wrist, scratching at his scarred knuckles but his mouth has already descended over yours again and you move to grip at his hair, silky and soft beneath your violent touch. Heat swarms your skin as his shadows pin you down, writhing pleasantly across your body in a way that has your insides fluttering.
Azriel again pries your lips apart, tongue sweeping in as his mouth slants invasively over your own, flicking and stroking while his fingers hold your jaw in a vice-like grip. A strange feeling skitters beneath your skin, and you wrap your legs around his hips, minimising the space between your bodies as he presses flush against your centre.
You can feel him.
Oh Gods, you can feel him completely.
Your mouth parts as you push against him, tongue sweeping across his own, the kisses hot and wet as each of you refuse to lighten your grip on the other and your thighs squeeze him closer, determined you won’t be losing this battle.
Azriel pulls away abruptly, and you look up at him, watching keenly for any move he’ll make, aware what kind of beast you’re taunting. “Keep still,” he commands roughly, voice like gravel as his shadows swarm your body, and you snarl as the hand that was pinning your throat to the desk drops to the hem of your shirt. Before you have a chance to counter he’s lowered to your neck, hair having fallen back onto the surface so he has plenty of room as his shadows shove your face to the side.
You inhale sharply as his teeth graze the sensitive expanse, grip tugging on his hair to get him closer, eager to have him working his mouth over the intimate area. “Hurry up,” you hiss, eager to be rid of the burning heat as soon as possible.
“I’ll go at whatever pace I like,” he replies darkly before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave more than just a mark in his wake. A noise of pleasure seeks to slip from your mouth as he palms at your breast, thumb grazing across your nipple as he targets a spot just beneath your ear, kissing down your neck as he makes his way to your collar bones, littering your skin with deep bite marks that will surely remain for days, even with accelerated healing.
“You’re an arrogant prick, you know that,” you pant, putting as much venom into your voice as you can manage, thighs tightening around his hips so you can feel him more acutely, the thick length of him rubbing over your centre. “And you’re turned on by that?” He counters sharply with a hungry glint in his eyes.
Heat flushes your skin as you make to deny his claim, but his shadows have been untying the laces of your trousers making it easy for him to roughly grip the waistband and shove the material away, dragging it over your thighs and off past your ankles, leaving you with only your underwear to conceal your lower half. “Slow down,” you snarl, searching for a way to regain control of the situation. You hate that he’s the one in charge.
Azriel grips the underside of your thighs, guiding them to wrap snugly around his hips again as his hand slips beneath your shirt again, settling over your breast, fingers skimming your nipple tauntingly. “Hurry up. Slow down. Which one is it?” He goads, something that looks too close to male satisfaction passing through his expression for you to stand. Your lip curls and before you can second-guess yourself you’ve spat at him.
He freezes for a moment, motion halting and you find yourself holding your breath, keeping entirely still beneath him. Waiting for the storm to break.
Fury engulfs his eyes, features twisting in a snarl as he grips your jaw, fingers squeezing at the muscle as he forces your mouth open, spitting down between your lips. Your eyes widen as arousal flutters violently in your lower abdomen, unable to help the way your hips buck as you swallow. Sadism glints in his hazel eyes, his own arousal beginning to filter through into your lungs but to your surprise you don’t hate it.
“Like that?” He croons lowly, leaning over you while still gripping your jaw, eyes dark and dangerous yet there’s an unmistakable heat that he’s not quite able to entirely suppress. Rage pierces through your mind and your palm smacks across his cheek, nails catching on his brow and temple as you snarl lowly. “Try that again,” you hiss in warning, “I’m not against walking out right now if you pull something like that again.”
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it,” he replies icily, syllables dragging from his throat.
“Prick,” you snarl.
“Brat,” he bites back.
You make to smack him again but his shadows snare your wrists faster than you can blink, slamming them painfully back onto the table, the impact ringing through your bones but you refuse to show your wince. You open your mouth to hiss something at him—what, you haven’t yet decided—but the intention dissolves on your tongue as you feel him cup you through your underwear. Heat unravels in your lower stomach, liquefying into a torrent as arousal breaks all at once across your skin and you find yourself breathless. Cruel, dark hazel eyes pierce into yours, watching intently as he rests the heal of him palm over the apex of your thighs, his middle finger running tauntingly over your entrance, applying a light pressure to the dip between your legs.
Male satisfaction is written across his features but you find you can’t think of anything to knock it away: your hands are pinned, your legs slung over his hips, and you’re in no state to control the small amount of magic you possess. Azriel’s mouth remains in a loathsome cut, but you can still make out that heat in his gaze, the slight ember that’s the cause of this whole mess—you wonder how clearly it’s showing in your own eyes.
“Nothing to say?” He asks lowly over your mouth, silky hair brushing against your brow like a tender caress—the gentlest touch either of your will ever share between one another, and entirely unintended. “Don’t worry,” he rasps coldly, thumbing your underwear out of the way and your lips part on a sharp inhale as you feel his cock slide through the wetness that’s coalesced between your thighs. “I’ll make sure to fuck the brat out of you.”
“At least my negative traits can be removed,” you manage to hiss out ruefully, wishing to be able to rake your nails across his skin somehow. “There’s no changing what you are.”
You don’t need to remind him of your earlier comment. He’s been hearing the words repeat through his mind since you spat them out: Illyrian scum.
Icy fury glitters in his gaze, fingertips biting bruises into your hips as he lines himself up and swiftly pushes in, the entrance made almost effortless by how wet you are; you’re somewhat relieved when he makes no comment about it.
Your spine arches helplessly, lips parting as he pushes in, filling you up in a way you hadn’t anticipated or even considered. Satisfying the ache that had been thrumming between your legs, giving you something long and thick to squeeze. Your only saving grace is that he seems to be as breathless as you are, brow lowered to the top of your sternum, lips grazing between your breasts as his hands remain firmly on your hips. From another angle you’d think it looked reverent, but then you’d also look in the heights of pleasure, and no matter how Azriel might be able to make you feel physically, there’s no removing the guttural hatred that burns between you.
“Move,” you whisper, panting softly. “Move.”
His wings twitch almost imperceptibly at his back, then he’s dragging himself upright, pulling away from you to stand to his full height as he looms above. You swallow thickly, having enough sense to squeeze your thighs around his hips, legs locking as you urge him to move; to give more. “Hold still,” he breathes, and your muscles instinctively relax, giving him room to shift.
“So you can follow orders,” he muses lowly, holding you tight as he draws back.
“Fuck o—” you begin to say, but he rolls his hips firmly to yours and your head tips back onto his desk, falling to the side as his cock rubs so delightfully against you, pleasure brimming at your edges from being so full, so spread out. He doesn’t give you time to recover. After another firm roll of his hips, as if testing you out, he finds his rhythm instinctively. Hard, punishing movements that allow him to pound into you, shoving the breath from your lungs as he repeatedly slams into you.
Your spine arches, writhing on his desk as you tug at the shadowy constraints, desperate noises being forced from your chest as his cock drives into you over and over again, thoughts practically falling out of your mind as it turns to mush beneath the utterly overwhelming onslaught of pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, blocking him out so you can concentrate only on the purest part of the sensations, zero in on the flutter of arousal between your legs, the rightness of being so full up, of having him pressed so tight between your thighs.
You allow yourself to fall deeply into the pleasure, allow yourself to be washed away entirely, submerged in the heated waters as you keep just enough of a hold on him to prevent your legs from falling off the desk. A moan slips from between your lips as your control begins to disintegrate, content to bask in the pleasure and forget who’s providing it. Azriel doesn’t make it that easy, though.
“Things would be so much better if you just learned to shut up and take it sooner,” he mutters down at you, shadows crawling leisurely over your body, pushing the fabric of your top up over your chest so their master can watch as your figure moves with each of his thrusts. Pleasure blossoms as his darkness teases the sensitive peaks of your breasts, pinching and playing with your nipples, and you try to dig your nails into your palm, teeth pushing into your lower lip to keep the noises from becoming louder.
“You’re so well-behaved now,” he muses lowly, and even if his expression wouldn’t show his pleasure, you can hear it the rich timbre of his voice, the satisfaction he’s feeling at getting you to shut up. “So docile,” he taunts, and your eyes snap open to shoot him a furious glare for trying to disrupt your pleasure. For succeeding. But no sooner than you open your eyes, his thumb presses over your clit and any resistance is utterly obliterated.
Azriel hadn’t anticipated how it would feel however, how your body would respond to the intimate kind of stimulation he was subjecting you to, and is unable to bite down on the rough groan that drags viscerally from his chest as you tighten around him, as if trying to pull him deeper so he’ll never leave.
The both of you are near your breaking point though neither wants to admit it. But the signs are there. Your panting breaths, the gleam on his skin, the heat to your cheeks, the tension in his body—it’s all there for the other to read. He rubs against a spot and despite subduing your reaction he somehow knows where to aim, targeting it repeatedly as his thumb soothes over your clit, the pad sliding effortlessly over top from the slick that’s coating the both of you. It’s so much that your discipline slips for a moment. “Azriel…”
It’s softer than a breath, quieter than a whisper, but he hears it. Of course he hears it. And he finds that he likes the way you moan his name. Especially while getting to take his tension out on you so roughly. It’s probably more satisfying than any method he could have thought up on his own.
His grip tightens on your hips, angling them slightly upright as he leans over you. “Say that again,” he commands quietly, but firmly. An intensity in his demand that has your throat rolling. You don’t want to, but you can feel his concentration piercing down on you, the intensity of his focus weighing so heavily that you feel like your skin is prickling.
“Piss off,” you manage to get out, but you can feel how swiftly release is gathering, how close you are to that wonderful high that will knock you clean from your feet.
For a moment he continues with his punishing movements, but it seems like he’s committed now. You hadn’t fully understood what it would mean to have his entire attention upon you, but when he roughly rips you from his desk, jerking you up against his chest as he turns the two of you around so your back is shoved up against his wall, you feel the consequences dawn on you.
From this position you’re forced so much closer, the physical intimacy catching you off guard as your breasts press flush to his chest, staring into cold hazel eyes that can be no more than a few inches from your own, able to feel each puff of breath that’s expelled from his body as it brushes over your lips. He takes up all of your vision, wings flared slightly at his back as shadows crawl up your body, pinching at your nipples, pressing against your clit as his hips buck roughly to your own and you feel yourself unravel.
The orgasm pulses through your body once, before crashing down on you in its entirety, and your mouth parts in silent ecstasy.
His hand slides through your hair, your own having found their place on his shoulders, and he angles your head so you’re forced to look at him. “Say it,” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours, and your world is thawed enough that you yield.
“Az…riel…”
A heavy sigh warms your mouth, then his teeth grit, head dropping to your shoulder as you feel him find his release. Your hips buck, hands grappling to reach over his shoulders, pulling him into you as the waves of pleasure continue to pulse through your body, muscles turning custard-like beneath the overpowering sensations. Reaching weakly over his back, you have enough energy to lightly skim the pads of your fingers over the ridges of his wings, and if it wasn’t for his proximity to you, you’re almost certain you would have missed the soft moan that involuntary parts from his lips. He tenses briefly, the only sign that he was caught off guard before his teeth settle over your shoulder, biting lightly at the side of your throat.
Breaths pant between you as you ride out the aftershocks, basking in the waning pleasure for a few moments longer before your hold relaxes on him, and he steps back, hands still keeping your hips pinned to the wall despite your feet now being on the ground.
You bite back a hiss as his cock leaves you feeling slightly cold and empty, but you’d rather take a near-lethal dose of faebane than tell him that. His gaze meets yours and for a second you’re unsure what you could possibly say to one another. But his expression remains cold, your own features shifting habitually towards neutrality.
“You have until tomorrow morning to redo the report,” he mutters, already having his clothes back in place as his shadows push your trousers to your stomach, and your hands wrap around the bundle of fabric.
“Want me to write a report on this, too?” You reply, relieved that the heat is beginning to cool, sensing you’re back in control of yourself.
His brow narrows, the hollow beneath darkening with loathing. “You’re more trouble that you’re worth,” he mutters, stepping back to give you space.
You meet his icy gaze, a sharp glint in your own as victory sparks darkly across your chest.
“Liar.”
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shadow4-1 · 2 days
Text
An Impromptu Punk Concert with Ghost
(What if you and Ghost managed to get into a punk concert last minute?)
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"No."
"Why not?" You whined at Ghost from the passenger seat.
He chose silence, which you knew he knew annoyed you. You pushed at his arm, barely even jostling the limb splayed comfortably over the truck's center console.
"We've got a job to do." He mumbled, eyes ever diligently on the road.
"Yeah, I know! But it's on the way!" You huffed. "Please! I know they're your favorite band too!"
Ghost flexed his arm in a display of annoyance, and you flopped back into the passenger seat dejected. You sighed and looked out of the window at the passing landscape.
You were in the middle of nowhere, passing through little podunk towns without stopping. You'd forgotten that a certain band was touring and had gleefully squealed after cheking the map of your route. Your trip was already going to take two days minimum. What was a couple hour break?
"How're you plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.
With pure delight, you shot up in your seat and squealed. If Ghost had really meant "no" he wouldn't have brought anything more up about it.
"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" You giggled, leaning over the console and his arm. He eyed you with a sideways glance but made no effort to move. "I've always wanted to see them in concert! This is a once in a lifetime chance!"
Ghost scoffed, but his posture was still entirely relaxed. Try as he might to fool you. You knew he was equally as interested in the concert.
"Oh don't pretend like I don't know your little secret." You teased, letting your body flop back into the passenger seat.
He scoffed once again, but you noticed the slight raise of his brow.
"I've seen those raggedy old t-shirts you were to bed sometimes. They're band shirts."
There was a long beat of silence save for the hum of the truck. You narrowed your eyes at your lieutenant, a smirk forming on your lips.
"...yes..." He sighed.
"I knew it!" You giggled and kicked your legs slightly. "This is gonna be so much fun!"
Ghost's usual worried expression became visible in the set of his brow. For what, you weren't sure. He'd seemed relatively relaxed a second ago.
"What's wrong?" You hummed.
He didn't reply. You knew better than that. You frowned.
"Hey, if something's wrong..." You trailed off, showing your concern by placing a hand on his bicep. "We don't have to go. I just figured-"
"We'll go." Ghost nearly snapped. He'd seemed to realize his sudden change in demeanor and decided to walk it back by clearing his throat. His voice was smoother and gentler than before.
"We'll go. Pull up the address."
"Of course." You tapped his arm before pulling away. You flashed him a sweet smile just to let him know you weren't offended.
After a moment of fumbling with your phone, you pulled up the GPS instructions on how to get to the venue. It was actually a bar, but it didn't really matter. You read up on all the information (including the dress code). You giggled some more, knowing it would catch his attention. Sure enough, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey. It says here masks are allowed!" You grinned. "And with how big you are you'll blend right in!"
"Mm..." He hummed.
"Okay, well, the GPS says to take a right turn in about half a kilometer..."
-
The moment you got there, you were nearly kicking open the truck's door. It'd been hours since you'd last stretched your legs. Despite the very uneven gravel parking lot, you groaned in relief as you popped every joint in your body.
"You never answered my question." Ghost murmured, walking around to your side of the truck. He'd pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head.
"What question?" You groaned out, loving the way your back burned from a particularly good stretch.
"How're ya plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.
You stopped stretching for a moment. You glanced up at him with a devilishly bright grin.
"Me?" You laughed. "Oh, girls get in for free. You've gotta figure out you're gonna get in."
Ghost narrowed his eyes at you. "Are you fockin' serious?"
"Mhm!"
You scrambled to get your phone out and unlocked. With a quick flash you showed him the rules of the event. Sure enough it was written out in black and white.
Girls get in for free!
A low growl formed in Ghost's throat. He glared down at you, but he didn't say anything. He looked upwards, breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly. He then looked back down at you.
"Fine." He huffed, turning around and walking towards the building.
"Hey! Wait up!"
It took you a short sprint to catch up with his long-legged stride. You fell in beside him. A warm, zing of excitement swirled around in your chest. The closer you got to the pair of black double doors the more the feeling grew.
Luckily, the line out front was short. They had two bouncers (who were not nearly as large as Ghost) checking the men's tickets. Women were easily bypassing the line, as long as they looked old enough. A woman just beyond the door was haphazardly checking their IDs.
"Here." Ghost grumbled, tugging his hoodie over his head. He threw the garment at you, blinding you for half a second.
When you managed to tug the jacket off of your face, your eyes widened at the uncharacteristic display. Ghost always had on a a jacket, or windbreaker, or long-sleeve. To see him in his soft balaclava, jeans, and a t-shirt felt wrong, too...casual.
You opened your mouth to say something but Ghost had already started walking towards the entrance at a decently fast pace. The appearance of a huge, masked man put everyone on edge. You were pretty sure one of the bouncers went a tad pale.
"Hey man, what are you doing?" The other bouncer asked, bless his heart.
Ghost gave him that look.
"Security." He barked.
And that was that. It seemed none of the bouncers were interested in telling Ghost anything. They simply went back to what they were doing.
You nearly gasped when you forgot you needed to follow him. Thankfully, Ghost'd provided enough of a distraction that you managed to come up behind him and sneak in by his side. You were getting in for free anyway, and it didn't matter if the lady hadn't checked your ID since you weren't going to drink.
The first thing you noticed was that the entire building was stuffy. The difference in the outside temperature versus the inside was intense. You wordlessly offered Ghost back his hoodie but he shook his head. It felt strange getting to see his shorn short blonde hair beneath the dingy lighting. He looked...almost like a different person.
So you didn't lose it, you tied his hoodie around your waist. You had to double knot it to keep the large amount of fabric from falling off your hips. Ghost watched you fuss through half-lidded eyes and made no attempt to help you. You scoffed up at him.
There was no way for him to hear you though. An opening band was already noisily playing on the stage at the back of the building. A decent amount of bodies were already crowded around the pink hued platform. They weren't a very good band in comparison to the lead act, but a few of the notes they hit piqued your interest.
For a moment you watched the stage from where you stood at the back of the venue. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Ghost nervously glancing around. His demeanor was off. You'd never visibly seen him uncomfortable like this.
"You alright?" You asked him, although the sound of your voice was drowned out. Ghost's attention snapped to you immediately but he narrowed his eyes.
"You alright?" You asked him again, voice lough enough to nearly strain. Still, he cocked his head. You huffed with slight frustration before stepping up closer to him. He bent his head down, angling his ear towards your mouth.
"You alright?" You tried even louder. This time he seemingly heard you. He gave you a nod, but you weren't convinced. His eyes were flicking from person to person that milled around the two of you.
"We can go?" You offered.
Ghost shook his head.
He then nudged you towards the bar. You didn't want to go but it was obvious that he needed a drink to withstand the stimulation of the place. You admired his commitment despite the fact he knew this outing would make him uncomfortable from the start.
He ordered two drinks. The bartender looked at you nervously, as if he wanted to card you but seemed to think better of it. Ghost lifted up his mask then swallowed down the first drink in one gulp. He half-heartedly offered you the second one, but when you refused, he downed it too.
You sighed at him but finally took a glance around the place. It was surprisingly nice for being out in the middle of nowhere. The bar went around nearly half of the entire atrium's perimeter. There were a few tables and chairs set up in the back for those wanting to rest their feet. But what really shocked you was the amount of men and women alike dressed in dark clothing.
Girls wore tall platform boots with buckles, latex, and black velvet. The guys wore harnesses and tight shirts with steel toed boots. Countless people donned masks of varying sizes and macabre shapes. The way they looked was eerie...yet beautiful.
You were so caught up in a pretty girl with huge wig and glitter for tears that you didn't realize the actual band was getting set up. Their crew fumbled around on stage, moving equipment and strumming the guitars to tune them. People began to crowd the stage, some squealing with excitement. You crawled up onto an empty barstool and sat in a way that gave you a decent view of the stage. Ghost just stood behind you, leaning up against the bar top.
The headlining band finally came out to a roar of excitement. Girls squealed, men whooped, and people whistled. A large group of guys stomped on the floor which, soon turned into nearly the whole building. The lead singer thanked the crowd for coming out before counting down. They started their first song.
You were so enraptured you almost didn't notice how close Ghost had gotten to you. You felt a warm presence against your back, and when you glanced up you were met with his flighty gaze. You noticed his hand tapping nervously on the bar top. You gestured at him to come closer. He angled his head down again for you to speak.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
He nodded.
"I wanna get closer." You pointed a thumb at the crowd.
He didn't move as his eyes swept across the sea of people.
The band started on their second single. It was one of their most popular songs but part of it was extremely loud and a bit grating. The fast paced drums and screaming guitar echoed hard throughout the venue. The main singer began to scream and you could feel yourself grit your teeth. You loved this band but the acoustics were just a little too good here.
It seemed Ghost was feeling a similar sentiment. He tried to covertly cover an ear with a palm but it didn't seem to help. You could tell something was going wrong. The guitars began to chug. The sound of it made Ghost wince hard.
You tapped on Ghost's shoulder to get his attention. He jumped a little but leaned down, angling his uncovered ear to you. You tugged on his arm, shaking your head.
"C'mon, let's go." You huffed. "You're not having fun."
Ghost shook his head no again but you knew better.
The song evened out into something smoother and less grating. Ghost's shoulders seemed to sag in relief.
"Seriously. Let's go."
"No." He shook his head once more, letting his hand fall away from his ear. "Just gotta get used to it."
"No you don't. Ghost let's-"
He pressed a finger to your lips as the best part of the song began. The lead singer burst into a sultry ballad that immediately grabbed your attention. You grabbed onto Ghost's hand, jerking it away from your face, squeezing his fingers tight in your palm. He shuffled closer, his head hanging next to yours as he listened intently with closed eyes.
The song soon ended with a roar of applause. This time Ghost didn't seem as uncomfortable with the volume. You placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Ghost-"
"'M fine."
Another song started. You looked up at Ghost with concern. He looked away, trying to listen. The drums kicked in and the guitars soon after. The singer began to growl about his worship to his lover.
When you looked up at Ghost again he was staring down intensely at you. You quirked a brow but he didn't say anything. He tugged on your palm that was surprisingly still in his. You jumped off the barstool and began to follow him.
Instead of walking you to the doors he lead you deeper into the crowd of people. A fourth song began to be played. The song was softer than the rest. Once again it was about devotion but also the hunger the lead singer experienced for his lover. The guitars began to chug again. Ghost grimaced but he gestured for you to come closer. He moved your body to stand in front of him. He placed his hands squarely on your hips.
"Ghost-"
Before you could even process what he wanted, he scooped you up onto his shoulders. You gasped in shock as you were hoisted up on top of him. It took a moment of your body squirming to find your new center of balance but eventually you righted yourself. You huffed, finally getting a good look over the crowd of people. You got a view that no one else in the venue could ever get.
In stunning clarity you could see all of the band members. Their instruments glittered in the low lighting. The sight of the lead singer's mask and rings made you swallow hard. You gripped tight onto Ghost's shorn short hair. The music seemed to swell in time with your heartbeat. Obviously uncomfortable earlier, Ghost seemed to have relaxed some. You wondered why for a moment then realized how tight your thighs were clamped around the sides of his head...
The bastard was using you as ear muffs!
You almost slapped the top of Ghost's head but the last chorus of the latest song began. The lead singer growled and huffed, squirming his body in a way that had women in the crowd squealing. Just when you were thinking about how childish that was the lead singer seemed to notice you thanks to your extra height.
He shook his hand out in your direction, grasping at the air as he sang his words of devotion. He rocked back and forwards, eyes locked on yours. Some people took notice and gasped. Girls beneath you glared at you with envy. Men's eyes around you sparkled with mischief. Hoots and whistles added to the lead singer's hungry tone.
Just as you began to feel deeply uncomfortable from the attention, Ghost pulled you off of him. You squealed as you fell over a yard towards the sticky floor. He caught you mid air, cradling you. There were a few laughs and jeers thrown your way but the crowd turned back to the stage. Ghost let you down at the way. Your legs shook a little from the adrenaline and also having been pressed hard around his head.
Ghost seemed even more uncomfortable than earlier. He rubbed at his ears through his mask. He looked around at the crowd with a frustration you couldn't identify. You tugged on his hand, forcing him to lean down to listen.
"We're leaving."
He didn't shake his head or protest this time. Instead, he dutifully followed you to the double doors. You walked outside and the two of you were greeted with cooler, quieter air. The people straggling in gave the two of you odd looks as you walked past them hand in hand.
Ghost didn't let go of your hand until you got to the truck. He opened your door and helped you up. He then got into the driver's seat himself. He didn't move to turn on the vehicle though. The two of you just sat there in the quiet, ears still buzzing. While you couldn't hear the music anymore, you could still feel some of its vibrations even at the end of the parking lot.
"You okay?" You asked, this time at a normal volume. "Better now?"
Ghost nodded, leaning back against the headrest. He huffed out a breath it seemed he'd been holding for the longest time. His eyes rolled softly in his head. You felt kind of bad. You didn't realize that maybe a concert wasn't the best idea for him. You'd only been thinking about your own enjoyment.
"I'm sorry, ya know..." You sighed. "We shouldn't hav-"
"Not your fault." He breathed, cutting you off. With that he cocked his head, looking down at you through his mask. His eyes had that half-lidded look you were starting to get used to.
"Had fun, actually."
(A/N: I might make a second, spicier chapter. We'll see how I feel. But trust me when I say this has been in my WIPs for months! The band being alluded to is of course, Sleep Token. But you could honestly imagine any punk band in their place. Also, spot the Chappell Roan reference lol.)
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mizu0xox0 · 3 days
Text
Self aware! Hsr males learning that you simp for Aventurine (Dan Heng, Dr Ratio and Sunday)
Note: kinda crack ig? I mean it sounds like crack already, kinda ooc as I wrote this for fun
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Self aware! Dan Heng does some research through the data bank to look at what qualities does Aventurine has that stands out much more then other characters that makes him so intriguing to you
Self aware! Dan Heng who silently judges you if you say anything involving you simping for Aventurine like he's not jealous but it kind of concerns him with the amount of phrases you can say about this certain subject
Self aware! Dan Heng who isn't easily ticked by anything but sometimes when he heard Aventurine boasting about being your ideal type or something around that well let's say Aventurine is knocked out by Dan Hengs spear
Self aware! Dan Heng who might crit more and might even do more damage then Aventurine no matter how bad his build is, just to try to impress you more
Self aware! Dan Heng who doesn't really mind you talking but maybe once in awhile switch the subject to something other then Aventurine but not like you knew he could hear you
Self aware! Dan Heng who really questions what you see in Aventurine, what stood out from the gambler more than the other characters was it his luck? His clothing? Or something else...
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Self aware! Ratio who questions your idiocy sure you're a somewhat higher being then them even if you didn't know of it but of all the people you could've chosen to simp for why the damn gambler
Self aware! Ratio who is losing years and years of his life the more he hears you yap about Aventurine and when he hears a single down bad one believe me when I say the "Zero points! Get out!" voice line was intentional
Self aware! Ratio whose voice lines seem now scarily on point whenever you start talking about Aventurine and you swear you can feel him side eyeing you through the screen
Self aware! Ratio who doesn't hesitate to chuck chalk and hit Aventurine with his codex repeatedly if he starts boasting
Self aware! Ratio who starts to crit less and less if he hears you yap about Aventurine during battle and if Aventurine is in your team somehow he's taking damage despite having his shield active (Ratio is actively throwing chalk at him)
Self aware! Ratio who takes a look at what intrigued you so much about Aventurine maybe he could learn a few pointers or maybe not
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Self aware! Sunday let's be honest during the one part of the story where he used the order on Aventurine well he makes it hurt more intentionally but he also feels bad since it's not something Aventurine could control
Self aware! Sunday who used his birds to spy on Aventurine to see what of Aventurine's mannerisms caught your eye to like him to this point
Self aware! Sunday who looks completely calm on the outside but on the inside he's questioning many things you've said about Aventurine
Self aware! Sunday who's boss seems to attack Aventurine more than your other team
Self aware! Sunday who covers his ears with his wings sometimes when your yapping starts getting down bad and very down bad by that
Thank you for reading and I apologize if any of these were ooc and sorry for the lack of writing as I've been busy grinding wuwa and PGR as of late
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hyp3rf1xat10ns · 2 days
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What??...HOW??
Your voice was very interesting. You had been born with an extra set of vocal cords which allows you to do many unique things with your voice. In fact, Malleus has been teaching you some phrases in Fae to see if you can pick it up. And to his surprise and yours, you pick it up rather easily! And soon enough you two are having full blown conversations. But never did you think it would come in handy.
Malleus had overblotted. The look of horror on everyones face would never leave your brain. You, Silver, Sebek and Grim currently were sitting around the fire with a much younger version of Lilia and Sebeks Grandfather. Many of the Fae spoke in Fae and in different dialects. It was fun actually understanding everything they were saying without having to rely on Sebek to translate everything. Knowing you could respond to them made it even better...but you decide not to speak as many of them seem put off by your presence as it is. That is...until Baur whispers something in Fae that Sebek didn't quite pick up as he was busy scolding Grim. To which Lilia muttered something back.
The two thought you were all suspicious since the beginning. But you...you were much difference. While everyone in the group had the blessing of a Nocturnal Fae, yours happened to be the strongest. Which made them weary of you. And they made it known. Whether it would be staring you down or keeping their distance or being a little more harsh in their words. You ignored it until Baur had mentioned all four of us were untrustworthy. You had had enough of them talking behind your backs. So you let them know, you can understand.
"I hope you are very much aware that I can understand every word you say crystal clear."
Silence. It was utterly silent. Even Sebek for once kept his mouth shut. Although his jaw gaped so wide it might as well have sunk to the pits of hell. However, the most taken aback seemed to be the General himself. "You know how to speak Fae?? How?? Typically it is impossible for humans to speak our language....So how did you?!-" You sigh softly as you begin to explain the extra vocal cord..
Even though you've explained...Lilia is still baffled. He can hardly believe it. But he wasn't suspicious of it. In fact he was interested. Maybe picking you four up in the woods wasn't such a bad idea after all.
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hopeluna · 3 days
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heyy<3 Can you do a Katsuki x female reader comfort where the reader is getting ready for a date with him but when she's doing her makeup it isn't going the way she way she wants it to, so she gets upset and Katsuki is like comforting her? It's alr if you don't want to!!
ProHero!Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader
CW: 651 words. mentions of insecurities based on looks, i aged him up as a pro hero to better fit the narrative i hope u like it <333
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You sit there for what feels like years, staring at the reflection on the mirror. You decide it's absolutely pathetic. The tears that start to sting your waterline definitely don't help.
It's date night. A rare occurrence since Katsuki's missions spiked up these past few weeks, added with your work stress. Tonight was supposed to fun and relaxing.
You're feeling anything but that. Katsuki is going to be here in less than 5 minutes, as he has texted you, and here you are- still in a old t-shirt of his and worn out shorts- not ready.
It's just one of those days. The makeup on your face isn't sitting right. You've tried to do your eyeliner for the million-th time without smudging it, all the lipsticks look just wrong on you, the foundation feels more like acid on your skin the more you keep messing it up.
You know it's irrational to think about but Katsuki always looks so handsome even without trying, it's bound to be a shame to others when they see you - in all your messed up glory - alongside him.
The fan above you hums gently into the air. There are muffled conversations from the street outside, occasional shouts from kids playing and tackling each other on the ground. The light from the bathroom door you left open serves to give you a further headache. You're so focused on the throbbing ache, you don't hear the front door opening, the sound of keys.
Katsuki is rightfully startled when he walks in the room. He felt uneasy from the moment you didn't excitedly jump on him at the front door, and now the messy room and your sad face staring into the mirror. He can feel his own lips etching into a frown at the sight.
You don't seem startled from the outside when he walks up behind you, trying to make eye contact in the mirror. He squeezes your shoulder gently before speaking, "everything okay?"
You lower your head, nonchalantly gesturing to the messy table full of makeup products. Katsuki would've found your sad pout adorable if it weren't for the tears stuck to your lashes.
He lets out a low hum in understanding. Katsuki is well aware there are some days you don't particularly like how your outfits or looks turn out - he's aware of it, though he doesn't quite understand how you can't understand that he's left awestruck every time he glances at you.
His eyes flash towards you when you shuffle in your seat a little, "can we...stay in tonight?" - you look at him sheepishly, guilty for ruining the night. Katsuki only tsks at you.
"Don't be dumb thinking whatever you're thinking. Of course, we can stay in. My cooking's better than whatever restaurant we were going to go to, anyways."
30 minutes later, you feel much better with a clean face, which Katsuki insisted he help with. You had told him cheekily katsu curry when he asked what you wanted to eat. You only got a scoff in return. You tap your fingers on the cool kitchen island, softly humming at the mouth watering scent that had begun to waft through the room. The TV is muffled in the background, dimly lighting the living room with the light from the kitchen. The air is cool in a refreshing way. You think you could stay like this forever.
You frown at the sudden poke on your temple as Katsuki walks past you to the couch, hands carrying two steaming bowls.
You wordlessly follow him, snuggling into him on the couch after snatching your bowl. You choose to dig in and ignore the groan from beside you when you turn on your favourite reality tv show- the one that Katsuki claims to hate.
You think this might just be your favourite date ever.
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© hopeluna. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any of my work in this or any other site. Do not steal or modify my ideas/concepts either.
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paisleypens · 16 hours
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Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.
Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?
And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!
Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗
I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!
different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader
~~~
You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.
Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.
"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."
Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.
Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."
He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."
Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."
You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."
Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."
His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."
He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."
You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."
As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.
Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.
As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."
Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."
He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."
You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."
As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.
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hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?
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GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE
Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.
I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:
Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?
We're gonna go in chronological order!
Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:
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Aww. Such a cute elephant!
Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!
Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:
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SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.
(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)
Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:
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Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.
Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.
Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:
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Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:
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... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.
Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.
For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.
Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.
Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?
tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later
Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!
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The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.
(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)
Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.
By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.
So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)
Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do
Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.
(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)
The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.
Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."
But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.
Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)
Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!
(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)
Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.
Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.
Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.
So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.
And look, here we are:
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Aww.
Whew - that's everything I could find!
Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3
#dick grayson#anyone with more info feel free to chime in & we can crowdsource <3#i do think the toy elephant is awfully cute though <3#total digression but i was thinking about it as i was writing:#i'm fascinated by the ways that the post-crisis batboys & their stories can intersect with 90s masculinity and all its issues with stoicism#and i'm pro-queering and gender-bending - 90s comics were a total boys' club so i think it's neat that transformative fandom isn't#but i do love 90s masculinity and All Its Issues too & one of the things i find compelling about the dick-tim-bruce trio#& especially dick's place in it - is the unspoken hierarchy whereby bruce is manlier than dick & dick is manlier than tim#and so dick's in the middle as this somewhat softer-character who aspires to be a harsher & more stoic & ultimate manly-man character#caught in the middle between robin & batman & what each role represents#and like. batman is both manhood & the only desirable thing to be AND ALSO it represents this immense narrowing of possibility#because so much of stereotypical masculinity is about reducing the range of emotions you're allowed to have or express#and dick is both incredibly conflicted about bruce AND wants to be just like him & by extension is conflicted about masculinity writ large#so a lot of dick's interactions with tim veer between trying on a frat-boy-ish 'I'm The Manly Guy' persona vs. giving up on it#or trying on imitations of Bruce's Batman persona but also trying to backtrack out of it bc he doesn't like how it feels etc etc#ANYWAY i think what i am trying to say is that if tim had a stuffed animal dick would be entertained & poke mild fun at him#and call him 'teddy' for the next hour or something while tim got increasingly defensive about how the teddy bear was steph's#and/or about how the teddy bear was OLD and tim doesn't even care about it and also WHATEVEr i'm above this#and to an uninformed observer this might look like bullying BUT ACTUALLY#this ritual would IN FACT be very reassuring to both of them + tim would feel WAY better afterward than if dick had ignored it#because by poking fun at him dick shows he still respects tim enough to tease him thus subtextually exorcising the threat of wimpiness#plus allowing tim to defend himself & demonstrate that he can take a joke so they've both reaffirmed their masculinity to each other#& they don't have to be scared of the teddy bear and all it represents anymore#however also afterward dick would have a brief nostalgic flashback to when he was a kid & had a teddy bear & feel weird about the memory#because he would be unable to articulate to himself that what he misses is a past when he allowed himself to be vulnerable#anyway this wouldn't actually happen in comics but it's what would happen in my soul. you know.#ask tag#zitka
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mxtantrights · 21 hours
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here with my weekly jason tt trend request with the whole 'pov: texts from your boyfriend' please? :) thank you hope your days been well ! 🎀💐
a.n: every time I see those on my fyp I wanna giggle and download hinge but alas I know that it's not the same. thank you for sending this in!! I love this so so much
you have to admit Jason is probably not the best with schedules. like he tries his dam hardest but sometimes things happen. Sometimes he doesn't see you for more than three days and he feels like he's neglecting you so he needs to conjure up a date night.
Jason:
random but do you wanna go on a date with me?
you:
we're dating already you don't have to ask
Jason:
yes I do. it's no a given. you might wake up one day and ditch me.
you:
never gonna happen. when and where is this date?
Jason:
my couch in two hours!
or you get super sappy Jason who doesn't wait for you to respond. he just texts you a whole paragraph in the middle of the day because he remembered something about you and needed to let you know that he's thinking about you.
Jason:
just remembered how you cooked me that noodle soup when I was sick the other month and how you took care of me and I never really had that growing up. I mean besides ya know the others and Roy no one has really cared for me like that. I can't believe I have you in my life and I get to make you happy.
sorry that was really long and you're at work.
you:
don't be sorry that was really sweet. I'm literally tearing up right now at my desk. I love you so much jay.
most times Jason is a horny bastard but he keeps it on the down-low. the only reason you know he's a horny mf is because of all the times you were with him in person and he decided to let his urges take the lead. but other times he'll surprise you with it over text.
you:
okay I'm gonna get some cool whip too.
Jason:
I'll have my clothes off before you get home
you:
you HEATHEN for the cookies. THE COOKIES
Jason:
offer still stands.
you:
I'll take you up on it.
Jason also likes to be teased. like make fun of him a bit and he's hot to go. yeah he's horny but he also likes it. doesn't get into too much detail as to why.
Jason:
hey gorgeous
you:
I'm gonna need you to try that again that was a bit cheesy
Jason:
hello love of my life whom I devote myself to every day and sacrifice all my daily earnings for.
you:
you're gonna break a sweat bending over backwards like that
Jason:
you have to know what I'm gonna say with that. you have to
you:
unfortunately yes. that's why I typed it out and hit send
Jason:
your place or mine?
you:
it's the same thing.
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milotraflgkl · 2 days
Text
Kissing Practice
SANJI X FEM!READER
note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: mild angst, jealousy, thought to be one-sided feelings, insecure reader-ish, kissing/making out, suggestive kissing, sanji being a flirt. WC: 1886
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You and Sanji were always flirting, it was obvious the attraction you had for the man and it was obvious that his interest in you was more than most other women. But that didn’t mean his endless flirting with other women came to a halt just because of you, at first it didn’t bother you all that much. It was harmless flirting and banter, but when he started to show more interest your hopes were lifted that he might’ve been interested in you. Maybe it was how long you two were stuck on the ship, you were the only person who ever gladly took Sanji's flirts and gave them back.
But it was your first time as a crew back on land, deciding to spread your legs you all went to the local bar to share some drinks and have social interaction with people other than the ones you were stuck with on the ship. You sat at the bar drinking a beer and making small talk with Usopp, who had already quite a few beers. He was babbling on about something that you couldn’t quite pay attention to because your eyes were stuck on something else, Usopp took a moment and another sip of his beer before he noticed you weren’t paying him any mind and he followed your eyesight. Sanji sat at the other side of the bar with some random woman all over him, moving her hands across his arms and laughing at whatever on earth he was telling her. He was looking at her the same way he had been looking at you those flirtatious moments on the ship and with that, it all hit you in one foul swing. He didn’t like you, you were just to keep him entertained. You swallowed heavily before quickly grabbing another beer and chugging it, then asking the bartender for another.
Usopp turned to look at you immediately, his facial expression became one of a worried one. He watched as you opened the next beer and began to chug it, “Hey- Hey!” He says carefully pushing the drink away from your lips, “Chill out..” He mumbled, you looked at him for a moment and stared. You turned to look at Sanji in the girl hitting it off so well, it made you scoff at yourself for being so dumb and gullible. You squeezed your eyes shut before you placed the beer down on the counter and sighed, “Sorry…” You respond to Usopp taking a deep breath, you weren’t drunk only on your third drink. Just a bit tipsy but another drink might get you there, you didn’t want to be drunk and emotional so you told yourself you’d finish this drink and then get water. You sniffled for a moment as you stared at your beer, flinching suddenly feeling hands against your back. You turn to look at Usopp who was attempting to comfort you and rub your back gently, “He’s gonna keep doing that, maybe you should too? Yknow… If he can flirt so can you.”
You stared at Usopp for a moment, processing what he was saying to you before it fully clicked a little switch in your brain. If he can flirt with others, so can you. You told yourself a small smile coming to your lips, “You know what, you’re right.” You say, pushing yourself by the hands away from the bar. “I did see a handsome fellow earlier~” You hum, twisting your body and beginning to walk off to find the stranger that would be here to simply have some fun for the night. Your eyes scanned around the room before they finally fell upon him, he was sitting alone at a table which is perfect timing. You walked over and sat across from him, beginning to make small talk with him and attempting to flirt with him.
What you weren’t aware of was how there was a pair of ocean blue eyes staring into the back of your head, having forgotten about the woman who sat next to him.
You were hitting it off with this stranger, your elbow perched up on the table and your chin being held up by your hand. The guy began to get a little more comfortable, one of his hands reaching over and touching yours then his leg feeling up your calf. You felt yourself beginning to sweat nervously, why were you so nervous!? You were just harmlessly flirting, a little fun for the night. Then one thought flew into your mind, You’ve never even kissed someone, let alone go past that. You grew nervous that you were leading this man on that he would get you in bed, you had to think of a way to get out of this situation and fast. You listened as this stranger told stories in a way to impress you before you finally came up with an idea, You gagged and covered your mouth acting shocked in so did the man. “S’cuse me..” You mumbled from behind your hands and quickly rushed off to the bathroom.
You finally found the bathroom after struggling in a crowd and quickly locked yourself in, hoping that he hadn’t followed and you could just sit in here for maybe an hour or so then make a sneaky exit. You sighed in relief as a few minutes had passed and no knock from the sound came from the other sound, you looked at yourself in the mirror and immediately your mind began to race. Picking yourself apart from the girl that Sanji had gotten all close and personal with, why weren’t you his type? How could you be his type… You let out a shaky sigh and inhale trying to stop yourself from crying. Knock, Knock. You flinched at the sound of the door and stared in confusion, “[Name?]” A voice called from the other side and you knew who it was immediately.
Sanji.
You stared at the door in shock, why was he here? Had he seen you fake being sick? You didn’t want to see his face right now, you were kind of hoping you could’ve snuck out without any of the crew knowing and going to the ship to give into sleep earlier. You inhaled shakily and squeezed the counter gently before you found the courage to speak, “Yeah..?” You asked out, you heard him attempt the door handle. “You alright? I saw you looked like you were going to be sick.” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the words. You let go of the counter and made your way to the door, opening the door slowly and looking at him. “Yeah… Just had a few too many drinks and guess the food didn’t settle well with it.” You lied and met eyes with Sanji, God his eyes were beautiful you could stare into them for hours.
You realized you had been staring and blinked, “I’m… I’m good now though.” You respond with a soft, nod attempting to slide your way past him before you feel Sanji’s hand on your waist and push you back into the backroom shutting the door behind him. You heard the sound of the lock clicking panic bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you looked at Sanji, you inhaled a shaky breath as you looked at him. “Sanji.. are you drunk?” You whispered out, And he shook his head in response. “Only had one drink.” He whispered back, his eyes slowly traced over your face until his eyes stopped and stared at your lips.
Carefully Sanji led you to press your back against the cold counter, your hands immediately grabbing hold to support yourself as you stared at him in shock. “[Name]…” He whispered out his face so close to yours it made your skin burn and butterflies in your stomach erupt, “Can I please kiss you..?” He asked in a whispered tone as his nose gently brushed against yours, You shivered at the feeling of him so close to you. You were malfunctioning at the question and took a moment to process what he had just asked of you, you turned your head quickly which caused Sanji to let out a small gasp of disappointment.
“I’ve… never actually kissed anyone before.” You muttered out in embarrassment, your eyes glanced towards Sanji as he stared at you in shock for a moment. “You’ve.. never kissed anyone before?” He repeated your own words but as a question, his voice full of pure disbelief. You swallowed and nodded your eyes turning to look away from him again, instead suddenly finding more interest in the countertop beside you. “[Name]…” He whispered, his hand gently touching your jaw and guiding your face back to look at him. You looked at him nervously scared of what he would have to say, he chuckled at how scared you looked. “How about… I give you some private lessons?” He whispered as if the two of you weren’t locked in a bathroom alone, your breath hitched as he offered and stared at him in shock your face becoming extremely warm and you knew he noticed with the grin he had on his lips. “Oh… Okay.” You responded in a breathy tone as soon as you gave Sanji the green light his lips were attached to yours, his hand on your waist pulling you closer and his other found its way to hold the side of your neck.
His lips were oh so soft, the taste of cigarettes still lingered on his lips and you felt like you were dreaming but how gently he was kissing you. You didn’t want this moment to ever end, how his thumb moved gently against your neck and he held you so close. Your mind began to race to wonder how many other women he has kissed this softly then remembering that moments before he had been flirting with another woman, you quickly pulled away which caused him to stare at you in shock. “What… what about the lady you were with?” You asked out trying to catch your breath and watched as his eyebrows furrowed, “What about her?” He asked you. “You just… left her.” You glanced at the door before his hand redirected your face again. “Yeah, I did, for you.” He says, staring at you with a serious yet soft expression.
“Cause I like you [Name].” He whispered and those words sent shivers down your spine, your mind running on auto as you attach your lips back to his and kiss him. He carefully moved away, “Gentle.” He says you nodded as he told you before kissing him more gently which he responds with a pleased hum.
You two would stay in the bathroom sharing simple kisses for a few minutes for the sound of a knock interrupted, the two of you turning into a blushing mess and quickly making your way out of the bathroom and back into the club. Make your way back to sit with the crew and share soft glances before everyone finally decides to leave, but you’ll be needing more of those ‘private lessons’ sometime soon.
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vampiresbloodx · 3 days
Text
a/n: based of the recent episode! 3x14! So might be spoilers, maybe.
As summer is just around the corner, you're older!gf!Melissa has a few or maybe more ideas on how she wants to spend her summer this year. And it's gonna be different, because now she has you. You couldn't contain your excitement as you said your goodbyes to the last kid leaving your class as you happily and practically skipped your way to Melissa's class, you know Janine has hosted a party and you two have planned to go to that. You wouldn't want to let a friend down. Melissa however, just wants to get drunk.
"here early hmm? Someone's excited" a familiar voice snaps you out of your daydream of a certain redhead who's standing in front of you right now with her hands on her hips, looking rather pleased.
"early? I'm right on time" you say with a small smile, "the last kid from my class just left with their parents."
She nods.
"and you came to see me?" She questions, you frown, confused.
"well, yes, because we're dating, I'm your girlfriend and you're my girlfriend" you say.
Melissa smiles.
"your girlfriend? And you're mine, I like the sound of that."
You shake your head, your cheeks burning as you hear her chuckle, she wraps an arm around your shoulder and you shudder from her touch.
God you've missed her.
Sure you see her all day, sure, you two work together in the same environment, sure, there's not one moment where no one can seem to catch you two apart, but you still wanna be by her side always. As much as you can.
Janine's party was definitely one you weren't expecting. Arriving with Mel you saw how easy she had her and Barbara with organising and cleaning stuff around her apartment, you found it ridiculous, laughing at them, you knew Mel wasn't the one for a messy place. Then Janine hit you with what she wanted was everyone to be involved, have fun, for you just being by Melissa all night long would do the trick, shocking, right? Janine knew you well, she wouldn't want you two seperated at all.
It was an hour or so into the party, Melissa was already tipsy, so was Barbara, and everyone else, except maybe a few people. You weren't always a fan of parties but this was for your friend and well Melissa wanted alcohol.
As of lately, Melissa had only just become more comfortable with PDA in your relationship, it wasn't that she hated it, she just didn't like people watching too much. You were hers, no one else's. You didn't know why she thought anyone would be bothered by it, when no one else seemed to care.
Then unexpectedly, you feel hands wrap around your waist and pull you in closer, you were about to cuss whoever had the dumb idea to do that but you smelled a familiar perfume and saw Melissa, you smiled, relaxed against her, she was enjoying herself, and so were you.
She began to kiss along the back of your neck, you bit down on your bottom lip to stop from being too loud, forgetting your at a friend's party, but everyone else was lost in their own world, dancing, partying, you both swayed to the music, she didn't seem to stop, nor did you want her to.
"Mel" you said, unsure if she could even hear you, you grabbed her hand, she looked at you, smiling. "Take me to yours?" You asked.
And she nodded, grabbing you as you two didn't even bother to say goodbye as she rushed you out.
You two laughed, smiling so much it hurt as you held each other.
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toa-arania · 3 days
Text
Gender is such a fascinating thing in Bionicle because objectively why is it there? Why do the biomechanical maintenance nanobots of a giant robot have gender? Or, more accurately, why do they have a gender binary? The gender binary as we understand it is (unfortunately) heavily linked to biological sex, something that MU bionicles don't have. The logical answer is that the Great Beings gave them gender to be reflective of their own society, where there are biological beings that reproduce biologically and have a gender binary that presumably sprouted from that, at least initially. However, despite giving them gender, they didn't give them any kind of sexual dimorphism, and for this we want to look at some of the non-matoran species and how they interact with gender.
The Vortixx are a society heavily stratified by gender - being 'male' or 'female' is more like a class system, with females as the upper class and males as the lower, working class. It's very reminiscent of the Orions from Star Trek. Additionally, we know that the species is not sexually dimorphic. Yes, the species that produced Dommy Mommy Roodaka, with her heels, ass, tits, and ponytail, is not sexually dimorphic. We see in one of the comics that a Vortixx confirmed to be male also just looks like that, and honestly we love that for him. He even has the rhotuka ripcord that kinda looks like a riding crop. We know that the Vortixx were created by Mata Nui rather than the Great Beings directly, so is it perhaps possible that because their perception of gender made no sense to apply to the MU inhabitants, Mata Nui compensated by having gender present itself in other ways?
Consider also the Skakdi, where the only thing we know (at least as far as I'm aware) about their relationship with gender is that there are female Skakdi, and that they are more violent and destructive than the males. We have never seen one, and we know so little to the point where I actually thought for a while that the Skakdi were a single-gender species. Like the non-GSR characters in Bionicle, they were given their elemental associations separately from their genders, and we've seen nothing to suggest that gender has any bearing on their society aside from disposition.
Then we come to the Matoran. For Matoran, gender is quite frankly fucking bizarre. The Av-Matoran were the first type to be made, and they are also the only type that can be more than one gender. The doylist explanation for that is so that they can blend into other Matoran types better, but that doesn't make any sense because those other types didn't exist yet. We do have a quote from Greg about gender in the Matoran, where it's stated to be a psychological difference rather than a physiological one, where the 'feminine' elements are calmer peacemakers, which is an absolutely fascinating quote because it's completely untrue. It might be true about the Ga-Matoran (with notable exceptions like Hahli), but it sure ain't true of the Vo-Matoran and Ce-Matoran, where our two primary examples are Chiara (electrocutes a lizard to make the point that females aren't gentle) and Varian (tortures Norik with nightmares for fun). There's also Orde but I genuinely have no idea what to do about him. He claims that he got all Ce-Matoran made into women to make them chiller and it clearly didn't fucking work so other than I guess the pitch of their voice there just isn't any observable difference.
What is demonstrably true is how general disposition does seem to vary between individual elements, and since Greg has confirmed that gender in Bionicle is a psychological variation that affects outlook and disposition, I honestly do not think it's a stretch to say that, at least for the Matoran, each of the fifteen elements is a separate gender. Honestly this even makes the elemental prefixes neopronouns, from a certain perspective. The Shadow Matoran are also fascinating to look at from this angle because they don't ordinarily exist; they're made from other kinds of matoran - the fifteen 'standard' genders if you will. They don't call themselves Kra-Matoran because they aren't a defined group, and they never think of themselves as one. They go back to what they were beforehand perfectly fine and at least act better off for it - with one exception. Gavla (the only female Av-Matoran we actually meet, who feels ostracised from her community) wanted to stay a Shadow Matoran, a kind of Matoran outside the standard concept of what elements they could be because she felt wrong as an Av-Matoran, and as a Shadow Matoran she felt more like herself. All this is to say:
Gavla Bionicle is Transgender and Non-Binary, have a nice day.
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