Tumgik
#'it's not that it doesn't work but that it works differently and-' please stop talking
Text
Dating Lyney
Day #1 of writing for my beloved in an attempt to coerce him into showing up early. Come home, my little magician, I need you!
Please feel free to send me requests for what you want to see next!
Fandom: Genshin Impact Character: Lyney Warnings: Fluff, magic. Some mild spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest. Note: Some people consider Lyney to be a minor, so keep in mind that he's 18+ in this, even though there's no NSFW.
Tumblr media
So you wanna date the rizzler huh? You'd better be prepared, because he's the world's biggest flirt. It literally never stops, no matter if you've been together five weeks or five years. He's always going to have something suave to say, always going to keep surprising you with little magic tricks. It's just how he is, especially when he's passionate about something - or someone. You'd best be ready to hear him say he loves you twenty times a day, and you'd better say it back, too, or else he'll get that adorable pout on his face and hit you with the puppy dog eyes. Sometimes you wonder if the man has a serious bone in his entire body or if Lynette inherited them all, but you know him better than that.
Lyney is such a gentleman. He's ridiculously charismatic, but he's also so, so sweet. He'll do anything and everything for you. He pulls out chairs for you, holds your hand while walking - you'll definitely have to stop him from draping his cape across puddles for you like they do in the movies. It's a little cheesy, sure, but it's so endearing with that sweet, lovesick smile on his face, and you can't help but love him more for it.
He's a very observant person. It just comes with the territory. He's trained himself to pick up on the subtlest little details, and while this primarily applies to magic and his work, but it also applies very heavily to you. He notices everything about you, from what you order at restaurants you go to on dates to what color clothing you prefer to wear to the way your tone and expression naturally shift as you talk about different topics. He memorizes you, so much so that he'll surprise you with things you've mentioned once in his presence, or perhaps not at all - he's quite good at putting pieces together and figuring out things behind the scenes, after all. You once asked him if he had the ability to read your mind after he pulled a slice of your favorite cake out of his hat, and he merely laughed and replied, "a magician never reveals his secrets, my dear~"
Speaking of which, his laugh is one of your favorite sounds in the whole world. The little chuckles and laughs peppered throughout his speech are lovely, of course, but you know they're mostly part of the show he plays for the audience. Your true favorite is the way he laughs when you're alone with him, when you say or do something funny or catch him off guard. There's something so magical about it, like you're getting a private glimpse of his beautiful soul. One of your favorite memories is when you got him to laugh so hard he could barely breathe, a genuine smile stretched across his face and a delightful sparkle in his eyes.
During the early part of your relationship, he's very guarded and secretive, despite his open and outgoing persona. Depending on your thoughts about the organization, he might attempt to hide being a Fatuus from you, just because he's terrified of your reaction. He puts a lot of effort into appearing absolutely perfect, because he believes you deserve nothing less than perfection. Even if he is honest about his work, he holds back his innermost feelings and desires for quite some time, continuing to play the part that is required of him. He cares dearly about you, and he's not about to let you go because of a careless misstep on his part.
It takes him some time before he learns to be vulnerable with you. He's so convinced that he always has to be perfect, that he has to be strong for his siblings and for you, and he doesn't allow himself to show any of the negative emotions that haunt him day after day. Slowly but surely, however, you will break that wall down - brick by brick, if you must. He begins to lower his guard when you are alone, to let the mask slip and show his true feelings, even if they aren't glamorous, even if he hates them. Once he trusts you enough to show you the truth that he hides from even his siblings, your relationship grows even closer.
Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis
155 notes · View notes
yanderepuck · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Me?? Writing Mozart???? Anyone writing Mozart is a surprise surprise tbh. I bully him too much and therefore it's so hard for me to write him. Is this good? Not exactly. But the Mozart simps can't say I never did anything for them
BUT YOU'RE ALSO GETTING TWO SMUT FICS IN ONE DAY??? let's just say I'm feeling some type of way. You bitches getting fed today.
Mozart has been living outside the mansion for a few months now. He has an apartment in the city so that he wouldn't have to take a carriage back and forth.
For a while you were going back and forth between the mansion and his apartment. There are plenty of days where he is working nonstop and you try to take care of him and try to get him to take a break but it's no use.
"Süße," you call out for him from the couch but he doesn't move. "Süße," you look over at him. He's at his desk, writing music or replying to letters you assume. You pout. "Süße."
You know he can hear you. Why isn't he answering. "Wolfgang!" it took you so long to get used to calling him that. It still feels weird. You sit up on the couch, about to get to if he didn't hear you this time.
"Hm? What is it?" He still doesn't look up, but at least he answers you.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I did. You just didn't say it right," he chuckles at you while you huff.
You get up and go over to him, putting your arms over his shoulders. "That's what you call me. How am I saying it wrong?"
"It's süßer for me," he drops his own and holds one of your hands.
"Oh wow, so different," you pout, but you still kiss the top of his head. You try to pull him from his chair. "Come spend time with me," you whine. "You have been glued to your desk for days."
You keep trying to pull him up but he's not budging. He laughs softly seeing how determined you are. "Okay okay. Just let me finish writing this letter," he kisses the hand he's holding and you let him go.
"Okay, but that's it for today!"
You let him finish writing it while you go into the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. It was getting to be around the time you should start cooking.
You get a few things out and set them on the counter. "I wonder if he'll want to eat tonight," you talk to yourself and turn around and see Mozart walking in.
You smile and go up to him to hug him tightly.
"You've been so mean to me," you look up at him pouting.
"What? I haven't done anything."
"Exactly," you glare at him. "I need attention."
He then hugs you back, holding you close. "Attention? Like this?" He kisses you, making you him softly.
"Mmm, more please," he kisses you again and you kiss back. "You taste like coffee," you giggle.
"I have been drinking quite a bit."
"No more for the rest of the night. You need proper sleep," you kiss him again before letting him go to go back to the counter. "Do you want to eat with me tonight?"
"Depends. What are you making?" He walks over to see what you pulled out
"Nothing too spicy, I promise," you chuckle, remembering last time he tried something new from you. You added way too many spices for him to handle.
He seems to think for a moment. "I'll try it."
"Perfect! I'll start cooking soon then."
You smile and take his hand, taking him back to the living room. All you want is to curl up next to him for a while, have him play with your hair while you relax. Which does happen.
You sit in his lap, leaning against him while he is brushing his fingers through your hair, getting out some loose knots. You lift your head up to kiss him.
It was only meant to be a little kiss, but once he kissed you back you didn't want to stop. He didn't try to pull away either. You both kept going.
Shifting on his lap, you face him, your legs on either side. His hands rest on your hips. You moan softly, arms going over his shoulders.
You can't help but start to rock your hips, getting a moan out of him. Your grip onto his shirt, getting more worked up.
He stills your hips, holding you down.
"What do you think you're doing," it's a lighthearted tease. He wants to hear you say it.
"C-can we go to the bedroom. Please," you start to whine.
His hands slide down your body and before you know it he's standing and holding you. You always forget about that vampiric strength, even still, you wrap your legs around his waist and hold on around his neck.
As he carries you, you start kissing his neck, lightly nibbling at his skin.
He drops you on the bed, giving you the view of him taking his shirt off. You sit there and watch rather than getting your own clothes off.
Mozart tosses his shirt to the side and looks down at you. "I can't do much if you keep your clothes on."
You immediately blush and fumble with your clothes, wanting them off as quickly as you can. You're clothes are barely to the floor and Mozart gets on top of you, kissing you roughly.
Keeping your lips together, you move further back onto the bed so you aren't along the edge, Mozart following you, not breaking the kiss until you lay back.
Lifting up one of your legs he kisses your ankle as he brings it over his shoulder.
"You're so beautiful," he smiles, getting you to blush before he slides into you.
You moan, quickly trying to bite your lip to stay quiet.
With one hand on your leg and another on your hip he starts to thrust into you.
He keeps a steady rhythm, but then again why wouldn't he. Getting more comfortable, he gets rougher. Nearly pulling out all the way before thrusting back in, making sure he's going as deep as he can.
He pulls your leg up further, redirecting your hips, hitting you in a new spot. Your moans get louder and he quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.
"Be quiet," he kisses. "The window is open."
You completely forgot about that. The window right above the headboard of the bed was open, letting in a light breeze. You were wondering why you occasionally got a chill.
You whine under his hand, not able to stop moaning. "Th-then close it."
You grit your teeth as his hips only snap harder. You swear the sound of his hips rutting against you is louder than your moans.
He takes his hand off your mouth and kisses you instead, causing both of you to lose your breath quickly. Panting in each other's mouths.
You wrap your arms around him, leaving red streaks along his back. Your leg that was over this shoulder is now around his waist, keeping him close.
His fingers interlock with yours, holding them down into the mattress.
"You feel close, süße," his lips trail down to your neck. "Why don't I help with that."
"Wolfg-ahh!"
His fangs piece your skin, giving him the pleasure of your blood and giving you the pleasure of reaching your climax. He didn't seem to care about the window being open at that moment.
Your moans went on for as long as his fangs were in you. His hands squeeze yours, his movement suddenly gets faster, until he pushes himself as deep as he can go, filling you with cum.
You squeeze his hands back, buck your hips up, moaning with him.
Mozart licks the bite clean and sits up, licking a few drops of blood off his lips while looking at you.
Your chest heaves, and you whine when he pulls out of you.
You don't feel like making dinner now, but you don't want to be done with him yet.
When Mozart lays down next to you, you sit up, getting on his lap.
He looks up at you surprised. "What are you-"
"I don't want to be done just yet," you smirk, sitting yourself down on his cock
~~
Tag list~
@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth
29 notes · View notes
anghraine · 1 year
Text
There is basically no way to talk about this without humblebragging and also giving way to, idk, internalized ableism or wtfever, but:
Grad school is sometimes incredibly frustrating, on top of the other reason it's incredibly frustrating, because people will be like "Elizabeth's mind is very bright and analytical," and that is nice, and there's nothing about having a mental disorder or three that contradicts it, BUT
One of the things about autism for me—a way in which it feels distinct from my mood disorders—is that some parts of my ways of understanding and experiencing the world just don't work. I realize this description sounds accurate enough for mood disorders as well, but it's difficult to articulate what I'm actually trying to get at that feels fundamentally different. It does, though.
Being bipolar frequently sucks and frequently sucks more than autism, because depression is terrible and I have a history of very severe depression. Nevertheless, being bipolar isn't, at the core, what makes me literally unable to do most math or drive or otherwise multi-task, and it's not what makes keeping track of things like scheduling or simply where things are spatially so difficult, and it doesn't have that much effect on hand-eye coordination and balance and things like that except in conjunction with the autism.
And then there's the sensory overload, which triggers super easily and is... worse when I'm depressed but very obviously rooted in my visceral and almost inexpressible loathing of most sensation and eye contact.
Now, I wouldn't (and couldn't) excise my autism if I had the choice, because there's no ... separate non-autistic self, it's not a layer of apathy or terror or something, it's all me. And yeah, I know we're "supposed" to conceptualize this stuff as "works differently," or these things aren't accommodated properly, or whatnot, and I understand why. But some days it just feels like some parts of my brain are fine and then large swaths don't work right, and people don't really get what it feels like to be getting a PhD and surrounded by people telling me how bright I am, but also to be unable to calculate tips or develop my ideas at the speed that everyone else is doing or write within the usual time limits or line up tasks in a practical way.
It also feels like there's no way to talk to people IRL about the massive chasm between the things I do really well and the simultaneous sense of having blank spots in my brain. My diagnosis even talks about this—not my towering frustration, lol, but that I have advanced reasoning skills that can obscure the extent of my disability in other areas.
So one moment I'm teaching Classical rhetoric to college students and the next I'm blankly staring at a division problem or struggling to manage basic scheduling, and it feels ridiculous and embarrassing. But I can't tell the authorities in my life that—I can get accommodations, but they don't get how intensely uncomfortable it is to have people constantly assuming I can easily do things that either a) I can't or b) are very difficult because I'm "bright" and... blah.
(Making this unrebloggable for hopefully obvious reasons. I mostly needed to vent.)
36 notes · View notes
shiningstages · 1 year
Text
Getting White Day Tsukasa first try, and seeing the newer cards on JP, really makes me wanna write fanfic again..........
#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( hi my brain still isn't quite here.........i think i need genuine alone time to Really recharge but i'm not gonna get that#work has really been piling on the hours; and next week is all closing shifts#but thinking about tsukasa saki toya found family / friends stuff..........how toya in any au would also just have connections with#EVERYONE ( this white day and jp white day cards )#akito and mizuki with tsukasa could be a huge bickering found family in a royal au........people please explore this more#the angst that could also come from mizuki going on a journey to find toya / saki / rui but also feeling like she doesn't belong on it#like in the sense that; while she wants to make sure rui is safe; she knows she probably can't change what he's become#and what if that's for the better in order for rui to find his own place and live his own life?? who would she be to take that from him??#the tsukasa and mizuki talks that come from them both knowing rui; but at two different angles..........#akito solely on a journey just to rescue toya; not initially caring about tsukasa's connections to him but then slowly growing fond of#Story Time; “only i truly know toya” says the man that's now grasping at any mention of him#realizing other people can have......well Other People in their lives that they share different experiences with#or that are just as impotant of bonds or experiences#i wanna call it “the folly of knight tsukasa” since he's just. so connected.#of course his main trough line is saki. stayed with her no matter what; doesn't want to stop doing that#but now seeing her with different views as him and striding on her own.......who am i to stop her from happiness part2#there are no concrete thoughts here; just thoughts#kind of like knights ( tsukasa / mizuki / akito ) versus outcast alchemists / magic ( toya / rui / saki )#maybe magic banned..........or perhaps Dangerous magic#saki being so close to nature and strong healing magic; but her sickly body makes it so hard on her#some royal “she should be in the palace” / tsukasa “no she needs to have tea parties with her friends; not starve her body for you”#some royal “many blinking emojis”#toya having like dark magic that he's never really learned about / awakened until his father puts so much stress on him#rui ( royal researcher ) helping him control it but also wield it ( for himself and toya )#toya's dad upon finding out sending him into death; tsukasa helps with an absolute exile / run away type plot instead#tells saki to go with toya so he can keep her safe and out of the royal's minds#the king gets injured by frantic akito and mizuki thinking he's offed their best friends#king uses this opportunity to put out a public manhunt on his son since he wanted him dead anyways#tsukasa freaks and gives up his honor to chase after toyaruisaki
4 notes · View notes
Text
.
8 notes · View notes
aphrogeneias · 7 months
Text
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
Tumblr media
Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again." 
4K notes · View notes
whateveriwant · 5 months
Text
The 141 in a reverse harem
Tumblr media Tumblr media
18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom
Soap
The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door
But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything
As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy
More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you
Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!
Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…
Gaz
Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz
Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)
Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them
Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like
And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves
While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean
Price
Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time
No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog
As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will
While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature
Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs
No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight
Ghost
Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way
It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door
But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye
What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?
Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast
Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers
It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope
4K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
Text
𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k
cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 
"Who is this?" 
Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 
"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 
"There's someone in my apartment." 
"You're sure?" 
You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 
"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."
It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 
The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 
You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 
You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 
The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 
You hang up the phone. 
"I know you're here." 
Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 
You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.
You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 
They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me
Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 
Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 
That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 
You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 
In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 
What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 
You could be dead in the next two minutes. 
thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 
If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything
After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 
Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 
"Found you." 
You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 
He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 
You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 
He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 
You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 
"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 
You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 
"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."
"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 
You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 
"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 
You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.
You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 
"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 
You won't negotiate. You don't answer.
Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 
"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 
"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 
"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 
"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 
"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 
You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.
"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 
You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 
Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 
"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 
"Aw. To begin with, sure." 
You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 
"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.
"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 
"We both know you don't like nice." 
"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 
The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 
There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.
You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 
"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 
"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 
You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 
Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 
"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 
You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 
Hotch moves in. 
"Drop the weapon." 
Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 
You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 
"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 
You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 
"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 
"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.
"You were talking him down." 
"No, I was surrendering." 
"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 
"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.
"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 
You hang your head. 
— 
Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.
He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.
"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 
The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 
"That doesn't need a cast?" 
Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 
You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.
JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 
What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 
You'll be gentle? 
No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?
He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 
Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 
"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 
"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 
"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 
You don't answer. 
"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 
"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 
"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 
"Don't think so." 
"It's shock," says the paramedic. 
"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 
"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 
"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 
You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.
"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 
"Her boss." 
"Not her partner?" 
"He's my closest friend," you say. 
He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 
"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 
You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  
He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 
"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.
Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 
"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 
"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 
"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 
"No. No, I want you to." 
It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.
He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 
You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.
"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 
"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 
"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 
"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 
"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 
He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.
"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 
"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 
You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 
"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 
"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 
You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 
"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 
"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 
Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 
"I knew you'd come," you finish.
He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 
That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 
You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 
Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o
5K notes · View notes
after-witch · 3 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel yandere Alastor imagine
note: discussions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, afab reader, misogny
Oh, to be in Hell and working for Valentino, who uses and abuses you, who goes from hot to cold depending on his moods, whims, and whatever might be pissing him off or propping him up at the moment.
It's not the living you wanted to be making. It's not the life--or afterlife--that you envisioned for yourself. But you owe him so much money (he fed you, and clothed you, and kept a roof over your ungrateful head, didn't he?) and you don't know how else you could pay him back.
But one day you happen to catch someone whispering about this new Hotel where you might be able to get better? Where life might be able to get better? Where you might get, and the word refuses to even catch on your tongue despite it dancing in your ears, redeemed?
You want that. All of it. Even it means risking getting the (after) life beaten out of you.
And on a rare free morning you sneak out and make your way to the front door and a tiny (cute, but, horrifying) little maid answers but before she can get a word in edgewise, a blonde woman--the literal princess of Hell, you realize--jumps into the doorway and grabs your hand to shake it vigorously and welcome you in with the biggest smile you've ever seen that isn't (for once) tinged with something awful behind it.
You practically trip inside as she excitedly pulls you into the foyer where a gaggle of people are sitting on a velvet couch and oh, shit, you know one of them.
Angel. You knew he was here--Val would not stop bitching about it--but it's different hearing about him being involved in this little project and actually seeing him out of the studio.
When Angel sees you, he freezes, his eyebrows shoot practically to the sky. And you're about to beg him not to tell Val, please-please-please, Angel might get away with being here but you don't have that kind of sway, when someone slides in front of you.
Red hair, pointy teeth, a fantastically red coat.
Alastor, of course.
You're not supposed to talk to him. Val and Vox made it clear to everyone in the studio. The Radio Demon is an "old timey fuck" who needs to fuck off and any one caught fraternizing with him might as well be fucking dead (or they'd wish they were) so stay away.
And his reputation wasn't any better with what you'd heard on the street.
But... he doesn't seem all that bad. And you were already taking a Big Fucking Risk by coming here, it's not like Val would go easier on you if you pleaded that sure, you snuck out, sure you came here when you knew you shouldn't, but you clamped your mouth shut and didn't talk to Alastor, you swear!
"Greetings," he says, and you want to smile a little. Because he really does sound like a radio, the kind your mom used to listen to when you were young, even though they were going out of style. Sometimes you missed that, sitting around the table while the radio played, tinny voices and music playing.
"Hi," you manage, voice quiet. "I mean, greetings," you say, stupidly, really.
But he doesn't call you a moron (like Val might) or ignore you (like Vox might)--instead he dips and picks up your wrist gently and he actually kisses your hand, a perfunctory gentlemanly peck of a greeting, instead of licking a slimy trail up your arm like Val is prone to do.
Can you help the little "oh!" that escapes your lips? No. Can you help the heated flush that creeps up your chest? No.
And if he, to everyone's surprise, winds up taking you under his wing--can you complain? No.
He doesn't tell you, like Val did, that you'll pay him back every red cent when he conjures up a closet full of clothes to replace your scant wardrobe. The clothes are modest and lovely and again, your mom springs to mind. The stuff she'd pull out of her closet and hold to her chest sometimes, because they no longer fit.
You wish you'd worn those clothes, when you got old enough to fit into them. But they were moth eaten and out of style and you'd look at her aghast when she asked if you wanted them when you were moving out.
So you didn't. But now... well, they don't fit so bad, do they? You even look nice in them. Alastor says "you're a vision of loveliness, dear," when you wear one of the outfits he's picked out. And you're not sure if it's a pun on his name or a genuine compliment, but you thank him all the same.
Charlie agrees to set up a room for you and Alastor helps with that, too. Although his help mostly involved changing out the standard linens for something nicer, stocking your closet and dresser with old fashioned clothes, and removing the TV.
You almost protested, but he reminded you that "your old friend Vox just might pop in and see you" and ah, it all made sense.
Alastor was looking out for you. Like he did with the clothes. Like he does with the way he helps you navigate the vague, ever-changing lessons that Charlie tries to teach.
Everyone here is nice, all things considered, for Hell.
It's not perfect.
Sometimes you would like to wear something more flashy and stylish, but what outfits Charlie manages to procure never seem to make it into your wardrobe.
Angel always looks like he's going to vomit when Val calls because at this point you are considered "missing" and Val does not like it when his "whores try to ghost him," as you'd once heard him screeching on Angel's phone.
Angel always denies that you're here, denies that he's seen you, and for once, you're glad he can act well when it really matters.
And if Alastor gets a little too clingy... if he gets a little too controlling? If sometimes he reminds you of Val, pushing and pulling you in the directions he wants, you just remind yourself that he's not as bad.
He doesn't ever, ever hit you. He doesn't yell at you or even raise his voice, really!
He corrects, that's all.
Steers you to the right outfits, reminds you how to act like a lady (something he never seems to do with anyone else, to your embarrassment); gently grabs your wrist and brings you along with him around the Hotel, into the shadows of the streets where you won't be seen when he thinks you need some good old fashioned exercised or fresh air. (If the air in hell could be considered "fresh" is another thing entirely.)
So yes.
He might be a little controlling. You can admit that. Even if he has your best interest in mind.
But every time that little thought creeps into your head, you just remind yourself. He's not as bad as Val.
And when you're in Hell, "he's not as bad" might as well mean that he's good.
3K notes · View notes
polarisjisung · 3 months
Text
KISSES WITH NCT DREAM
Tumblr media
pairings: nct dream × fem! reader
genre: fluff
warnings: mentions of giving hickeys (for jeno) + reader is implied to have long(ish) hair + use of pet names
notes: a little different to usual but i want to post more often and I love reading these little headcanons! although I do need to switch it up from all the fluff 🫠
Tumblr media
MARK-cozy morning kisses:
mark loves lazy mornings, holding you by the waist to make sure you don't have a chance to escape the warmth of the duvet you're all wrapped up in. sure your hair's a little messy but mark loves the domesticity of waking up next to you. you'll make every attempt to make your way out of the confines of your shared double bed but mark ultimately wins, shutting you up with a kiss when he feels like you're talking too much
"mark baby, please I have work" mark could not care less— really, they should've made it illegal to work weekends
"you have a boyfriend too" he'd tuck the hair falling from your ponytail behind your ear and you're a sucker for the way he'd let his palm rest over your cheek as he pulls you into his chest underneath the covers
"markie, I'll get fired" you know you'd lost the battle the second mark let his eyes land on your lips, the ones that were still shining from the left over lip mask you'd applied the night before, but you still try to bolt out of the covers as fast as you can, undoubtedly you'll get pulled back in by mark just a few seconds later
"don't run from me baby" he's all pouty, you know its all just a facade to get a couple extra minutes in bed with you but saying no to mark just wasn't one of your capabilities
when you finally sigh in defeat,
"just 5 minutes" with a roll of your eyes, he's peppering sweet kisses all over your face, placing a couple pecks on your lips too
"I'll take 5 minutes"
best believe he'll take a lot more than just 5
RENJUN-stupid adorable smiley kisses:
kisses with renjun start out ever so gentle, a quick touch of your lips before he's checking to see your reaction. doesn't matter how long you've been dating, renjun still gives you butterflies every damn time, and he's the same with you, all giddy and kicking his feet, so you both start out so smiley against each other's lips, soft and sweet. on occasion renjun likes to go for deep, more meaningful passionate kisses, and the second you see his starry eyes staring up at you, grin formed into a soft smile, you know his hand is going to reach for your jaw and his lips are going to move rushed against yours
there's a sparkle in his eyes, a glint that tells you renjun won't stop at a few pecks— naturally you don't mind at all
"my love?" he coos, looking up at you, taking in your features as though he's trying to commit every detail of your pretty face to memory, your moles, the shape of your lips and your sparkling eyes, he would memorise it all in that very moment
you swear he looks at you as though you've painted the sky and hung the stars, and every time you catch yourself wondering what you've done to be lucky enough to deserve him
"I love you" as those words slip so effortlessly out of his lips, he'll guide you with a hand against the back of your head to meet his lips again, with more urgency this time
"I love you too" you'd breathe out, an oppurtunity you'd never miss
JENO-neck kisses
jeno loves your lips, kisses, pecks, full on make out sessions— he doesn't mind. but every time he finds your hair tied back and your neck on display he sees it as the perfect chance to show that you're absolutely not single, very much taken in fact. jeno finds joy in carving his initials into your neck or leaving small, unintentional patterns behind sucking and gently biting at the warm skin on your neck. the kisses eventually trail their way up across the bone of your jaw, his hands tugging at the ends of your hair as he twirls it between his fingers. jeno wants it all, quick kisses will do if you're out and about but the second you're home, kissing is at least a 20 minute task.
when you're out, be it hanging out with friends or running errands together, especially in the summer, when you like to tie your hair back a lot more frequently, jeno finds himself going absolutely feral, he's like a child begging his mother to go home
your back is against the wall the second you step through the door, jeno's lips impatiently capturing yours. he's a literal animal, he'll devour any lipstick you're wearing like it was never even there, before his kisses land on your collarbone.
"knew what you were doing when you tied your hair up baby hmm?" jeno likes to think you do it on purpose, to mess with him just a little, admittedly you do, but if you could be honest it had been solely unintentional this time
"come on jeno" your hands land on his chest, almost avoiding the hungry search of his lips for the skin of your neck "didn't know you were so needy"
you like to tease him, his cute agitated kisses becoming a little more intense at your words
equally jeno finds no shame in just how crazy he is for you
"needy for you baby, only you"
something about his urgency mixed with his loyalty forces you to forget about the hickeys you'll spend hours covering up over the next few weeks
HAECHAN- tip of your nose kisses:
haechan loves a makeout session as much as the next person, and despite his forward and bold attitude, sometimes the hard-core kisses just aren't what he's looking for. his favourite solution? kissing the tip of your nose, he likes booping your nose here and there as it is, but in his softest moments, where you find his eyes staring your way in pure awe, haechan's eyes travel to the tip of your nose immediately. it doesn't take long for his lips to follow— a tentative kiss to make sure you're in the mood to be absolutely bombarded with his love
forehead kisses are a close second, and eventually haechan gives in to delicate tender kisses on your lips, his fingers interlaced with yours
"have I ever told you I love you?" kisses with haechan are playful, so you can always tell he's in the mood when that adorable toothy grin shines it's way at you
"multiple times hyuck, every day actually" you'd respond, so giggly that he swears he's falling in love with you all over again, he's not sure if it's possible quite frankly, considering he thinks the same thought everyday
"that's what you deserve baby, I love you" he'd waddle his way over to you on the sofa, that smirk on his face that tells you everything you need to know— the kiss lands perfectly in the centre of your nose, your face soon hidden away in your hands
"don't get shy on me now baby, you know what I wanna hear" he's already trying to get another look at your pretty eyes and when he successfully gets your hands to slide down your face, places a chaste kiss to your forehead
"I love you too hyuck"
"can't hear you buttercup, you're gonna have to show me that pretty face so I can lip read" he's a little too proud of his words, and when you do let your hands down, his lips are all over yours
JAEMIN-lip gloss kisses:
jaemin is a sucker for those shiny, perfect glossy lips of yours, he's a sucker for you full stop, but your lips are practically a superpower.
now jaemin hates strawberries but that pretty pink lip gloss of yours with a little shimmer and that strawberry scent is his absolute favourite, he swears it makes your eyes pop 10x more it's perfect— you're perfect
he loves showering you with affection, be it hugs or kisses, holding your hand or whispering sweet nothings into your ear, jaemin treats you like an absolute princess and when his princess is all dressed up and so absolutely gorgeous, he can't help but ask for one thing for himself. not that jaemin doesn't love seeing you lounging around casually, he thinks you look gorgeous all the time, but seeing the confidence that oozes from your being when you're ready for a big event has his stomach doing backflips
his arms wrap around your waist quicker than you can twist the tube of your lip gloss shut— really there was no point going through your extensive lip combo routine because you should've known jaemin would eat it all up
"my sweet sweet girl, do you think I could have a kiss?" jaemin likes to get extra affectionate in these moments, clinging to you with a smile that reaches his eyes, just to make sure there's no way you can say no
"but nana my lip gloss" you're always trying to make excuses, really it was just because lip products were starting to get expensive, but you don't mind blowing more money on them if it meant you'd have a love like jaemin
"hmm, I'll buy more for you, just give me a kiss pretty please?"
you only make one more attempt at stalling, you know better that you're not winning this battle
"but nana it'll get all over you"
he shrugs, so unbothered you swear you hear your heartbeat ring in your ears
"I like it like that"
jaemin loves the way you tenderly hold his face before you seal his lips in a kiss, when you pull away his lips are glittery and pink just like yours, but his smile seems to have grown ten fold
"you look so pretty nana, my princess" he nods
"your princess, all yours" before locking your lips against his once again
CHENLE-spiderman kisses:
chenle loves the movie, chenle loves you, to him it just made sense and the spiderman kiss has easily become his favourite way to greet you as he walked through the door.
most days chenle would find you seated on the couch, finishing up a project for work when he'd get home, his hand would wrap under your chin and slightly over your neck with ease, lips locking with yours momentarily
"I missed you" he'd whisper, every time as he pulled away from you, placing his things down to a side and slipping into the empty space beside you. his arm would find its rightful place resting over your shoulder before his lips would brush over yours again
"I missed you too"
the both of you would bask in the warm intimacy of the moment, something between you, only for you, that the both of you would secretly look forward to day in and day out
to chenle that was enough, that daily welcome home kiss was practically routine and it was a routine he'd grown used to, practically to the point where when he'd walk in and you weren't working away at a desk or on the sofa, anywhere he could easily guide your head backwards and press his lips to yours, the rest of his day would be ruined
dramatic, would be the best way to describe a kiss deprived chenle
JISUNG-hand kisses:
to jisung kisses are one of the truest levels of intimacy, they come with philosophical and ethical discussions and debates, prophesies of where the universe might be heading in ten years or why you shouldn't take things in life for granted
jisung liked to think, and he appreciated being able to share and discuss his thoughts with you, to him that seemed like one of the purest forms of love, being unashamed to share even the most wild and crazy theories with each other
he admired your passion, the way you'd get lost between your own thoughts, in your own world as you explained a concept to him, one of the many reasons jisung loved you, and in those moments a press of his lips to the knuckles of your hand, already intertwined with his, seemed perfect, like the cherry on top
"I think it's crazy how we don't realise so much of what goes on around us" you're sharing one of those moments of yours again, when you feel like you'd noticed something that made a big impact on your point of view in life and jisung can't help but let that gummy smile flash over his lips, his thumb rubbing up and down the outer surface of your hand
it's beautiful to him, how your legs are laying over his and how you rest your head against his chest and his fingers rake through your hair while you find yourselves in this moment, for a second jisung stops listening, or at least attentively so, trying to take in this fleeting moment of what he thought was the most important part of loving someone
"sung, you seem out of it?" you'd ask the question so concerned, despite a little guilt that he hadn't been able to listen to you, jisung would smile softly and shake his head
"just thinking about how lucky I am to have you"
and his hand would lift yours, quickly pressing a feathery kiss to your knuckles
"I love you" he'd say, a phrase he didn't say often, scared it would lose its meaning, but one he'd say just enough that you'd known how much you meant to him
1K notes · View notes
unrefinedmusings · 1 year
Text
sweet, sweet sugar
Tumblr media
pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
summary: meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you. part 2: snooze
warnings: smut, explicit sex, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) riding, truck sex, nasty talk, MDNI, 18+
a/n: i love him, your honor. i will protect this tired dilf with my life. might expand on this, if so it'll be fluffy/smutty (no angst because the show is already enough pain for me)
---
It was his voice, you think. You had just relocated to Texas and were new enough to be drawn in by that deep Southern accent when he introduced himself.
Hi, uh, I’m Joel. Mind if I buy ya’ a drink?
Maybe it was the age difference. It wouldn’t be a first for you and the few strands of gray in his hair did make you a little weak in the knees.
It could’ve been his arms. Bumping against the hard muscles of his bicep as the bar stools you two were sitting on inevitably wobbled while you talked. Placing a light touch on his forearm when the liquid courage of your second drink kicked in, before your fingers made their way to his indecently thick ones to intertwine. Just the rough touch of his hands was enough to make you shiver.
His eyes were definitely a factor. Puppy brown orbs that sparkled brighter than starlight when he laughed, even under the dim lights of the bar. How they grew dark, almost black, when you leaned in close enough for him to catch a whiff of your perfume, the faintest hint of sweet vanilla lingering in the space between you two.
Or maybe it was just him. All of him. The way he hummed along to the country western songs playing through the bar’s speakers. The way he spoke to you with affection in his voice despite his gruff exterior. The way he talked about his Sarah: the pride while mentioning an A plus social studies paper followed by the anxiety while asking if he was talking about her too often. 
As if loving his daughter too much could scare you away. 
His scruffy beard and charm, his bad humor, his dad humor, his smile.
And the way he called you sugar, like that’s what you were to him. Nothing but sweetness and all too appetizing. Like he’d drink you up with his coffee every morning if you let him.
Your wandering hand made its way down to his thigh, resting just above his knee. He paused mid sentence and for a moment you worried you were being too forward. Your eyes meet his in a heated stare.
“You tryna’ misbehave there, sugar?”
You were and it landed you in Joel’s backseat, laid down with his body pinning yours. He’s kissing you. He’s still kissing you, hasn’t stopped since he pressed you up against his truck in the dark and nearly empty parking lot. He’s on your lips, until you have to pull away for air when he moves down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking along the way.
Your legs part for him, wrapping around his hips to dig your heels into the backs of his firm thighs. His hands find their way under your shirt, calloused fingertips forming gooseflesh across your skin before pulling the material up and over your head. He palms your heaving breasts, letting out a low groan at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, before working his hands around to the clasp. Any restraint he might have had was tossed into the front seat with your bra.
Now he’s desperate, he’s hungry. 
His mouth is on you, all over. His tongue licking at the marks he left on your neck and chest, his teeth making more down your torso. Lips wrap around your nipple and you arch into his suckling, letting him consume even more of you. Every one of his filthy, reverent kisses is more fuel for the fire growing in you. You tug on his dark locks when he reaches the top of your skirt, running his tongue along the line where fabric meets skin.
“J-Joel, please,” you beg, surprising yourself at how wrecked you sound already.
“I wanna taste ya’, sweet thing,” he teases, looking up at you with mischief in his eyes.
Moving his head down between your legs, Joel places sloppy kisses up the inside of your thighs. You watch him with heavy eyes, shuddering as the coarse hair of his beard grazes your sensitive skin. He brings his face to the crotch of your panties, nose nudging your clit, before taking a deep inhale. He licks at you through the soft lace before pulling it off entirely. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasps, the heat of his breath against your cunt enough to make your hips buck. Unbothered by your writhing, Joel wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him before licking a stripe through your slick folds. 
He groans at the taste of you. “Such a sweet pussy, so goddamn wet for me too.”
He dives in, circling your clit with his tongue before plunging inside you. Your thighs try to shut at the sensations, but his hands tighten their grip to hold you in place. You’re melting into his mouth and onto the seats, the fogged up windows an indicator of just how hot everything is right now. 
Then his thick fingers are inside you, thrusting deep and hitting that spot you always have trouble reaching dead on. His mouth wraps around your clit, sucking on it like hard candy.
“Gon’ get a cavity from all this sugar,” he mumbles into your pussy, and the rumble of his laugh vibrates through you.
He thinks he’s so goddamn funny…
“Oh fuck,” you cry out.
It hits you like a rocket. He curls his fingers just right and you’re seeing stars, being pulled up and away into the atmosphere. He doesn’t stop drinking you in until you’ve floated back down to Earth. 
Insatiable.
Your eyes are closed, but you feel his soft lips kissing your neck. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “Did so good for me, such a good girl.”
Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.
It’s like a trigger. All the satisfaction from your climax faded and was replaced by a deep need to be full of him, to take him in and again until you fell into the night sky together.
“Fuck me p-please, please Joel, I need it,” you whine, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.
“Oh sugar,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”
Joel uses one hand to pull you into his lap and straddle his thighs, while the other unbuckles his belt. You scramble to undo his zipper, tug his pants and boxers down, and unveil his—
Oh fuck.
Whatever it was before, it’s definitely his huge dick now. You let out a whine when your fingers wrap around the base without being able to fully encircle it. He rolls a condom down over himself before gripping your hips and guiding you to hover over the flushed red tip. Your forehead is pressed against his as you sink down, gasping at the stretch.
“Good girl, that’s it. It’s big, ain’t it?”
You huff against his cheek, “S’ big.”
“You can take it. Gonna take all of my cock, sugar.”
You do. Your toes curl and you feel like he’s splitting you open, but you take all of him. He rubs circles on your clit, making you gush around him and relax enough to move. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you start rocking your hips and slowly finding a rhythm. Every thrust is electric and the sweet sounds of how wet you are fill the car.
You’re clamped around him, raising and falling harder, faster. Whimpers spilling out of your lips as Joel thrusts into you, meeting your hips with his. You were close, your climax was racing towards you when his thumb found your clit again. Just a few touches to the bundle of nerves and you were toppling over the edge, head thrown back then falling limp into his neck. You shake in his arms as he continues to fuck you in his lap, quickly reaching his own release.
“Fuckin’ goddamnit, sugar,” he pants into your ear as he finishes. 
He keeps you like that, strong arms holding your body close against his as you both catch your breath. You have no objections, nuzzling further into him and gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s been a few minutes before he breaks the silence.
“Sugar?”
You hum and smile into his skin as a response.
“Could I get your number and, uh, maybe we do this again? Dinner too?”
He had the audacity to sound bashful while his cock was still inside you. You look up to see a pink tint to his cheeks, and you have to answer with a kiss. Slow and sweet.
---
💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕
7K notes · View notes
heeliopheelia · 11 months
Text
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
part 2
genre: angst, established relationship
word count: 2.9k
warnings: curse words (and some of the boys are really cruel to yn :()
masterlist
Tumblr media
LEE HEESEUNG
"Please, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Heeseung groans as he slumps down on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. He really doesn't want to get mad at you at such late hour but he can't help it when you keep talking his ear off from the moment that he's walked into your shared apartment. "I'm dead tired, just let it go for now, okay?"
"I'm not sleeping with you today," you scoff, not even daring a look at him so that he doesn't notice the tears of frustration that have started brimming in your eyes.
You've just found out from one of Heeseung's friends that he's been out with his ex for almost the entire day. Without telling you a word about it. Normally, you weren't the jealous type as you trust your boyfriend with your whole heart. But after hearing that he's been having the time of his life with the girl that once has broken his heart, while you were at home waiting for him to come back, your thoughts drifted onto a completely different track.
"Why? Fuck, so what if I saw her today?' He exclaims, slapping his thighs with a breathless laugh. "Nothing happened! She just wanted to talk, YN! Talk. Stop trying to turn it into something that it's not."
"Then why didn't you even bother telling me that you were meeting her?" You ask, involuntarily letting yourself get emotional and raising your voice as well. "Who even does shit like that?"
"I just didn't think it would matter so much to you, that's all. I thought you trusted me a little more!"
"So you're saying that if I were to hang out with my ex and didn't tell you anything about it, you'd be fine with it?" You snort when he nods his head. "Alright, yeah. Watch out cause I almost believed you."
"God, you're just like her! Why would I ever think of cheating on you with her when the two of you are exactly alike?" Heeseung ignores the hurt look on your face and keeps on talking nonsense, fueled up by anger. "Both have trust issues. Both are ridiculously jealous. Both are way too clingy for anybody to bear. Fucking twins!"
You laugh in disbelief as you stand up from the couch. "Why are we even in this relationship if I'm so fucking unlovable to you?"
"Good question," he quietly murmurs.
You don't bother to wait for his apology or pleads for you to stay as you know he's way too deep in his anger to even start acknowledging your feelings now. You don't even have the strength to slam the door, so you just quietly let them shut behind you as you walk out on the dark street.
Tumblr media
PARK JAY
You cross your arms over your chest, watching as your boyfriend finishes getting dressed for work. He said he would take the day off today but he obviously forgot to do so and now is leaving you hanging onto another empty promise.
"You're twisting my words! I just said you promised you would stay with me today, that's all."
"Well and I said I forgot! End of story," Jay grumbles at you, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. "Whatever, I don't have time for this right now."
"You never do!" You raise your voice involuntarily and turn your face away as you feel the tears gathering in your eyes. How could he forget? "Not even once have I ever been prioritized while being in this relationship with you! And it's not like you even have anything important to do today!"
"We're not having this conversation again," he laughs breathlessly, threading his fingers through his hair. "My boss called me and said he needs my help. Of course my job is gonna come first in a situation like that, YN! After all this time, I thought you'd be more understanding by now."
"Yeah, it's just there are days where I want to be put first for a change. It's not like I ask you for that every week!"
You can't help but let the tears drop down your cheeks, failing to hide your emotions for any longer. You're right, though. Jay knows it too. You never complained about his work or asked him to take the day off, unless the date was important to you. It's just too bad he was too much in his own head to think about it for a little longer.
"I can always take the day off next week!" Jay says with a roll of his eyes. "And, god, why do you always have to cry?"
"Because it's my fucking birthday, you asshole," you breathe out in a broken voice before standing up from the bed.
Jay's eyes almost double in their size as he lets your words repeat in his mind. Birthday. It's your birthday. He tries to grab your wrist as you walk past him but you jerk it away from him.
"YN, I-"
"I don't wanna talk to you right now."
You rush out of the bedroom. Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you slide to the ground and bury your head in your hands, finally letting out the sob that's been weighting on your throat throughout the entire morning. 
Tumblr media
SIM JAKE
As you walk out of the restaurant angrily, you dial Jake's number. It's the fourth time you've been stood up by him like that, sitting completely embarrassed and alone at the table reserved for two. Jake was supposed to meet you here forty minutes ago and while at first you waited patiently for him, knowing his schedule is rather tight, after half and hour of having your calls not answered, you started losing your cool.
"Hi, baby. What's up?" You hear his cheerful voice from the other side of the phone.
"Nothing much besides the fact that I've been stood up by my boyfriend once again this week," you reply in a rather passive aggressive manner as you open the door of your car. "How was your day, babe?"
Jake keeps silent for a second or two before a groan leaves his throat. "Fuck, it completely slipped out my mind. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be," you nearly growl, starting your car. You curse quietly when the engine stutters and chokes but doesn't want to start by the first two times. "I waited forty minutes for you, jackass."
"Shit, are you still there? Just wait a little more and I'll be there soon, I promise."
You scoff loudly. "You've got some nerve, I'll give you that, Jake."
You can hear him sigh heavily and you can just picture how he's pinching the bridge of his nose at the moment. "Can you stop that? I already apologized. I'm sorry that I have to work."
"Oh, you're very welcome." You grit your teeth, keeping your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you drive out of the parking lot. "Would it really kill you to remember about me even once?"
"YN, you're not being fair right now," he says and you know he's pushing himself to his limits to not raise his voice at you. "Look, one of us has to actually make some money. I can't keep my head wrapped around everything."
"Oh, yeah? So you're at work right now?"
He stutters slightly. Got him. "Well, no I-"
"Jake, are you coming, man?"
Hearing Heeseung's voice shouting on the other line makes your fingers clench on the wheel tightly. You breathe in sharply and let out a short laugh. "Good to know what your priorities are, Jake."
"No, wait, I'm-"
You interrupt him again before ending the call, "Don't bother."
Tumblr media
PARK SUNGHOON
You breathe out in relief when you hear the familiar sound of Sunghoon's car pulling up on the driveway. He hasn't been answering any of your calls since the afternoon and you really started getting worried. You've been arguing with each other throughout the couple past weeks and you took notice of how distanced he's become towards you. You've attempted to fix that but it's a really hard task to do with your boyfriend being as stubborn as he is.
"Oh my god, I was so worried about you," you say the second when Sunghoon walks into your house. "Where have you been?"
He only nods his head at you in acknowledgement and toes his shoes off wordlessly. You frown slightly at his sudden muteness and put the sizzling pan aside.
"I made you dinner, figured you'd be hungry," you start again and only get disappointed when he dismisses you curtly.
"I'm not."
Pressing your lips together, you nod your head slightly before following him to the living room and taking a seat next to him, not close enough to irk him any further though. The two of you sit in silence, mindlessly watching the random channel that Sunghoon played. He has his arms folded on his chest and you wonder what went so wrong that he suddenly turned so cold towards you.
So you try again, speaking with a soft voice. "Why didn't you answer my calls today?"
You feel your whole body tensing when he lets out a groan. "Cause I didn't want you distracting me."
"Okay, what the hell is up with you, Hoon? Why the attitude?" You ask, turning away from the TV screen to look at your boyfriend's frowned up face.
You don't miss the roll of his eyes as he clicks his tongue. "For fuck's sake, if I knew you'd be this needy today, I would've stayed out longer."
You try not to show how much his words hurt you but the look on your face tells him a completely different story. You clear your throat and decide on voicing the thought that's made itself way too comfortable in your mind during the past few weeks. "Sometimes I just feel like you don't love me anymore."
"Well, maybe I would've loved you a little more if you stopped being so clingy. Seriously, fifteen calls, YN! Who the hell does that?"
Silence. His hurtful words linger in the air heavily and you both say nothing. You avoid his eyes, lips slightly trembling from the heartbreak. Sunghoon still says nothing as you stand up from the couch and leave the room in a rush.
Tumblr media
KIM SUNOO
"Do you even hear yourself? Why would she be lying?" Sunoo shouts at you as he crosses his arms defensively.
You're gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly, trying to prevent yourself from raising your voice as well. Even though you're keeping cool, his words and accusations stab your heart with dozens of needles. Having your boyfriend believing his friend rather than you has got to be one of the worst feelings in the world.
"And why would I be lying?" You ask, glaring him down. "Why would I, your girlfriend, lie about my whereabouts? For fun?"
He scoffs at you,. "Well, you didn't tell me you were hanging out with Sunghoon, did you?"
"No, because I wasn't hanging out with him, we just stumbled upon each other on my way back," you explain calmly as you clench your sleeve even tighter from frustration. "We literally talked for five minutes."
"That's not what what I've heard."
You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. "Yeah, cause what else would a person that's been in love with you for two years tell you?" You can't really help the sarcastic tone that's sneaked itself into your speech and you can see it only irks Sunoo more as he nearly scowls at you.
But all that you've said is the truth. Since the beginning of your relationship, you've noticed his best friend's spiteful looks thrown your way along with the heart-eyes directed at Sunoo. You've kept quiet for all this time, not saying a word even when he ditched you for her or made plans without your knowing. But this, this is just too much for you.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he has the audacity to laugh at you.
"No, Sunoo, it hurts me, you know?" You finally let all of your feelings that have been crumpled inside you for all these years. "Do you ever even try to acknowledge my feelings when you hang out with her?"
"Don't turn this on me right now. And I'm not allowed to have female friends now? What kind of a girlfriend even are you?"
You get up from his bed and scoff at him. "And what kind of a boyfriend accuses his girlfriend of cheating while he sneaks out without her knowledge to meet up with his best friend?"
With that, you turn on your heel and leave his apartment, slamming the door behind you.
Tumblr media
YANG JUNGWON
"That's not what friends do, YN! Are you even listening to me?"
"I am but you're being ridiculous!" You bite back at your boyfriend, walking back from a lunch with your best friend.
Throughout the entire meal she's been throwing jabs and snarly remarks at you, and although you've already grown used to her attitude, Jungwon just couldn't let that slide. He thinks it's illogical that someone you've been calling your friend for such a long time, would act so mean and nearly insulting towards you.
"I don't understand how can you let her speak to you that way," he breathes out in disbelief. "I wanted to spit in her face after an hour of talking to her, why do you let her do this to you all the time?"
"Because she's my best friend, Won!" You try to stay your ground as you dig into your purse, looking for your keys. "That's just how she is. I've learnt not to take any offence in that. You shouldn't either."
"I just care about you, so forgive me for not liking it when someone insults my girlfriend!"
You sigh, feeling tired from the night and the ongoing argument. "I know you do but I don't see it that way. She's just rough around the edges, that's all."
"Of course you don't see it. All you need is constant validation. You just can't live with the thought of somebody not liking you. You'd let a stranger walk all over you only if it meant you had gotten his approval. That's not fucking healthy, YN!"
"How can you even say that to me? Why would you-," you stop yourself from engaging in this conversation and slump your shoulders with resignation. "I don't wanna do this anymore."
Jungwon sends you a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"I just want to be alone right now," you say and Jungwon can clearly hear the exhaustion in your tone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back."
Tumblr media
NISHIMURA RIKI
The moment that you hear the door slamming, you sigh as you realize it's one of these days again. For the past week or so, Niki has been coming home frustrated beyond words but not even once has he said what was bothering him. Sure, you've tried to intervene and ask him what's was it all about but he always dismissed you quickly. It hurts you to think that maybe he doesn't trust you enough to confide in you like that.
"Hi," you greet him as you stand up from the couch. You walk over to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt of hugging him but only get disappointed when you feel his body tense up. You pull away and look at him pointedly. "Another bad day?"
Niki hums and moves away from you, going into the direction of the kitchen. You follow him, feeling worried for him as you know he has the tendencies of bottling up his emotions inside.
"Wait! Don't ignore me again," you scolded him slightly, forcing yourself to stay calm and speak with the soft tone. You grab him by his forearm. "Niki?"
"Let go of me," he breathes out, voice heavy and your heart screams at the thought of him deciding to struggle with all of it by himself again.
You do as he asks and free his arm instantly. "Okay. Just talk to me, please?"
"There's nothing to talk about, Yn!" He snaps at you and runs his hand through his hair. "Stop pressing me!"
"No, you always keep acting like everything's fine when it's clearly not! I don't want you to keep it all to yourself. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about stuff like that," you explain, trying to keep him on your side. "I want to help you!"
"I don't need your help, though!" He scowls, sending you a sharp look. "If I knew you'd be sticking your nose into my business the second I walked through the door, I wouldn't even bother coming back."
"Hey, that's so cruel and uncalled for, Niki," you gasp slightly, feeling his words pulling at your heart again. "You're my boyfriend, of course I care about you! I hate seeing you like that but you just won't let me understand what's going on with you!"
"Are you my psychiatrist or my girlfriend? Jesus, I'm not in the mood for that right now," he sighs heavily and walks past you straight for the door.
"No, wait!" You call after him but you're too late and he's already slamming the door behind his back.
Tumblr media
permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19
4K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 5 months
Text
Archon's Fated One
Pairing: Archon!Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, arranged marriage, running away, comfort, gentle sex, possessive sex, growling, tail shenanigans, biting, scratching, breeding kink, past abusive relationship, Zhongli has horns, claws and a tail
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: Written for @tinyyellowtoad. Thank you for you patience and your support!
Tumblr media
You knew from the start that the arranged marriage wouldn't work out. Your so called husband was an abusive, entitled asshole, besides your heart already belonged to someone else. It has for a very long time. He was the only one you loved, the man you ran to for safety and comfort, Rex Lapis, Morax, or as you knew him, Zhongli.
The door to his home opened as soon as you approached, he senses you, moreover he sensed your distress. "Ah, I didn't mean to frighten you. When I felt you approach I... your... your wrists... your neck... what?" His eyes widened in horror as he took you in. You must have looked pretty pathetic to him, crying and cowering by his side as he ushered you inside, placing his hooded coat over you, unmindful of his own half-nakedness.
He didn't push you for answers, he ordered for a bath to be ready for you, and any change of clothes you wished. When you walked beside him you could feel his thick tail caressing your lower back and your legs. No hands. Not until you told him it was okay to do so.
Would he think you even weaker if he knew? You were human so you already paled in comparison to a god. You knew that even if he shared your feelings your relationship would never last. Zhongli opened the door for you to show you into the bedroom you normally stayed at when you spent the nights at his place. He never crossed the line of sleeping with you, he never even kissed you, the most you got out of him were late night cuddles and breakfast.
No wonder your husband was jealous. You spent more time with here then with him. Doesn't change the fact that you never wanted to marry him in the first place. Or what he did to you.
"Wait." You called out, hands touching Zhongli's tail, "Please don't go. I'm... scared of being alone tonight."
Zhongli turned to face you and let his hands hover over your shoulders, still waiting for your signal. After you gave him a nod you felt his warmth, his arms pull you into a hug, against his chest, felt exactly where his arm markings stopped, and when you hugged him back felt where his dragon trail began as your hands rested on the small of his back.
The bed was just as soft as always, like what you imagined sleeping on a cloud might feel like. The only sturdiness was Zhongli himself. "He did this, am I correct?" Your tremble of fear was confirmation enough. Zhongli snarled, his eyes flashing bring yellow for a moment before he took a deep breath of your scent to calm down. "I should have sensed it. I should have been there. I am so sorry darling."
You snuggled deeper into his arms, taking in his comforting words and petname, "I told him I wanted a divorce, that... there was someone else." His arms slackened slightly, but you kept going, "I told him I loved an Archon and he laughed at first. Then I told him... that it was you. He... accused me of cheating on him."
His silence invited you to keep talking, as did his tail, now coiling around you.
"Because I was here so often he thought we were sleeping together. Didn't believe me when I said we were only friends. He got angry, really angry." Your body shook remembering his hands around your neck, the names he called you, the insults.
"So you ran here. To me." Zhongli's voice sounded lower then usual. It sent a very different kind of chill down your body, one that finished between your legs. It was shameful. How something so simple had an effect on you. It wasn't anything new for you, when you were in here you always had your hand between your legs at least once a night, not daring to call his name out.
"Because I knew you'd keep me safe Zhongli. I trust you."
"You love me." He announced, shifting his body until he was on top of you, looking down at you, his face still stoic but his hands conveying his love as they cupped your face. "If you so wish, if you would allow me, I could make you my woman. My mate."
Your heart wanted it, your cunt did too, pulsing and empty, "I don't need you to pity me. I know I'm just a human. I have nothing to offer you."
"That is not true. For years now you've been coming here, keeping me company, talking to me, keeping me from going insane. Also," He bent down and nosed your neck, "don't think I don't know what you've been doing in here. This is my domain, I hear and see everything and everyone."
It was probably you who spread your legs for him, made it easy for his hips to push between them, for him to press his rock hard bulge against your core. There was so much heat between you two, but not enough friction. He could fix that, you could see he ached to fix that if only you said the words.
"Zhongli, please make me yours." Every other time you uttered those words it was in the thorns of passion and without him there to do so. Now he was here, on top of you, pealing off your clothes layer by layer until you lay naked beneath him. His pants followed, revealing that hard cock that's been the subject of your dreams for so many nights.
"Has he..." Zhongli trailed off, his body shaking as he aligned himself up with your entrance, gathered some wetness at the tip and waited.
You shook your head, "He wanted me to submit on my own, but how could I when I only wanted you." You reached back, undoing the tie in his hair with one hand and scratching at the base of his strong horn with the other, feeling the scales there. And with your heels you felt the beginning of his tail as you pulled him closer, "I want you to be the only one for me from now on."
"And I shall be." Zhongli handled you with gentleness, but also possessiveness, his hands running to your hips, his eyes following the bounce of your breasts when he entered you, the gulp you made that tapered off into a moan. It was very much to his liking. "My bite, I will hurt. However if you're to be my mate, my bride, it's necessary."
The pain of it scared you a little, but the pleasure you currently felt, his big, thick, throbbing cock rolling in and out of you with every movement of his hips was enough to distract you. You leaned up to kiss him first, "I do." You whispered against his lips, which made him tilt his head, "It's how humans seal a wedding."
"Ah. Then... I do." Zhongli's lips felt much hotter than your own, every part of him felt hotter. You wondered how his cum would feel. Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. His cock responded by twitching.
You leaned your head backwards, exposing your neck to him. His claws dug into the sheets and bedding beside your hips, clawing and tearing at them, he was trying to hold back from finishing. "I wanted you for so long. So long, my darling. The amount of seed I wasted when I should have been planting it inside your womb instead... it angers me."
Sharp teeth ticked your skin, feeling you gulp before they settled between your neck and your shoulder, "Please. I want to be yours Zhongli. In every sense of the word."
That firm tail now wrapped around your leg like a snake, pulling it to the side so that he could have even more room. You were right, the bite hurt, but the pain was pale when compared to the pleasure that flowed both in and out of you moments later. You were hot all over, hot as your body arched against his, hot on the inside as you would be impregnated by his seed tonight, the sheer amount spilling from you, making your thighs sticky.
Despite giving it your best shot you couldn't leave marks on his back, but you knew he felt that you tried, a pleasant rumble emanating from his lips as they pulled away from your neck. Zhongli rolled you both to the side, his tail trading being coiled around your leg to being coiled around your hips.
One of his hand pressed down against your stomach, his voice low, "I love you." It was almost too quiet to be a whisper. "I will keep you safe, I promise you. Nothing and no one will ever bring you harm again."
If you had enough strength you would have cried again at that very moment. There will be time for tears, both happy and sad in the future. For now you wanted to rest, to sleep your first night with him soundly. With him, Rex Lapis, Morax, Zhongli, your new husband.
2K notes · View notes
baldval · 1 month
Note
Hey!
Do you have an Head Cannons on morning or night routines for the cast?
This stuff has been very fun to read :) keep making things! (No pressure ofc just fun to see people being creative)
MORNING ROUTINES W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
characters: vox, husk, valentino, lucifer, adam
warnings: slightly ooc adam (lets be fr this man does NOT wash his face)
Tumblr media
VOX:
☀︎ vox wakes up at 5 am
☀︎ he says he needs to "seize the day"
☀︎ he probably got that from the time you watched dead poets society together
☀︎ of course, he clearly took the movie differently
☀︎ you'll wake up some time after him, to find him already working
☀︎ "you know, you talk about 'seizing the day' yet i don't see you really enjoying it"
☀︎ "that's because you hadn't woken up yet" he walks towards you as he pulls you by your waist and kisses you
☀︎ leaving his coffee cup in a nearby table
☀︎ "how many already?" you ask, nudging towards the cup
☀︎ "only like- 3, i think?"
☀︎ that man is addicted to coffee it's crazy
☀︎ as the sun rises higher in the sky, you find yourself looking for vark's leash
☀︎ ready for your daily walk to the park
☀︎ hand in hand, you stroll as you chat about nothings
☀︎ sometimes you don't even have to talk
☀︎ you simply find his presence comfortable
☀︎ and he very much finds yours comfortbale as well
HUSK:
☀︎ genuinely, you and husk could spend hours laying together in bed
☀︎ secretely, husk is one of the clingiest people you'll ever meet
☀︎ he's just that good at hiding it
☀︎ and at that moment, both of you cuddling in the bed, he knows he doesn't have to hide it
☀︎ he honestly doesn’t care the position, he’ll big spoon, little spoon,
☀︎ really just likes to be able to see you
☀︎ and he loves when you play with his fur
☀︎ sometimes, he'll play with the fabric of his clothes ☀︎ “husk that tickles stop,” you says one night, between giggles, as he plays with the hem of your shirt
☀︎ but truly, you enjoy his touch above everyhting
☀︎ he looks so happy and adorable
☀︎ really, he’s just obsessed with you
☀︎ if you’re happy he’s happy.
VALENTINO:
☀︎ valentino is the type to drag you to keep sleeping
☀︎ especially if you have something else to do
☀︎ one morning, you and him are curled up together in bed
☀︎ he’s scratching at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair
☀︎ he has your favourite stuffed animal held to his chest in a vice grip with his other arm
☀︎ you kiss his chest, falling in and out of consciousness
☀︎ that day you had a very important work meeting and you were probably going to be late already
☀︎ "val, please. you know this is important"
☀︎ he groans as he shifts in your embrace
☀︎ "at least kiss me goodbye"
☀︎ the kiss is long, soft, loving
☀︎ he still presses a million kisses to your crown before you’re gone
☀︎ he texts you nonstop
☀︎ before you're already there, you have 14 texts from him
☀︎ i know this is morning routines but let's say you come back early enough to find him still laying in bed
☀︎ still hugging your stuffed animal
☀︎ "seems like you love that thing more than me"
☀︎ "you know, i can't seem to get out of bed whenever this thing is near me"
☀︎ referring to the stuffed animal
☀︎ “really? why not, val?”
☀︎ “i think it's 'cause it smells like you.”
LUCIFER:
☀︎ waking up besides him is always a surprise
☀︎ he's probably the biggest fan of cuddling
☀︎ it doesn't matter what position you fell asleep in
☀︎ you could've been meters apart in bed, backs turn against eachother
☀︎ you'd still wake up with him wrapped around you in some way
☀︎ "hey," you murmur
☀︎ he turns around to face you
☀︎ "morning," he mumbles
☀︎ a big smile on his face as he just looks lovingly into your eyes
☀︎ you nestle closer, comfortable in his warmth
☀︎ minutes pass in comfortable silence
☀︎ his breaths syncing with yours, creating a rhythm of their own
☀︎ before you know it, you're asleep again
☀︎ you won't realise how or when it happened but suddenly you are alone in bed
☀︎ lucifer already changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, did his hair...
☀︎ to this day you still don't know if it has to do with his powers or if he's just incredibly fast
☀︎ all you know is that, after you're done tidying yourself up, there's breakfast ready
☀︎ if there's something lucifer loves in this world, it's cooking breakfast
☀︎ especially if he's cooking breakfast for you
☀︎ you enter the kitchen to find him mixing something up that smells amazing
☀︎ you hug him from behind as his smile grows
☀︎ "look who's up"
☀︎ "this smells amazing"
☀︎ he turns around to meet your eyes, holding your face with his hands
☀︎ "you're amazing"
☀︎ you cringe a bit at his cheesiness but can't help blushing as he places a kiss on your nose
ADAM:
☀︎ adam is definitely a slow morning person
☀︎ and even more so when you are with him
☀︎ the alarm will go off and he will immediately roll over and take you in his arms and cuddle up with you
☀︎ "adam!"
☀︎ you'd giggle as he buries his head in your neck and mumbles
☀︎ "five more minutes"
☀︎ you'd run your hands through his hair as he'd press a couple kisses to your neck
☀︎ you'll stay like this for about ten minutes or so.
☀︎ and eventually you get into the habit of setting your alarm a little bit earlier, so you can make sure you have time for adam's morning cuddles.
☀︎ when you are finally able to drag yourself out of his arms, you get out of bed and he follows a few minutes later
☀︎ you brush your teeth and hair in tandem
☀︎ and he often likes to nudge your elbow, causing you to smear toothpaste on your cheek
☀︎ cue his familiar giggling
☀︎ you take turns washing your face and doing your morning skin care
☀︎ whoever does theirs first makes the coffee for the both of you
☀︎ after lounging on the couch together drinking your coffee, you make breakfast
☀︎ you do most of it while adam 'helps'
☀︎ his way of helping often includes his arms wrapped around your waist as he hugs you into his chest
☀︎ sometimes swinging you side to side
☀︎ or squeezing you to make you laugh
☀︎ he is a food thief as well
☀︎ he can't wait until it's done he has to eat it as soon as he see's it
☀︎ the two of you eat breakfast together, often with your feet intertwined under the table, or your leg's propped up on his lap
820 notes · View notes
darthannie · 7 months
Text
potential side effects
Tumblr media
pairing: Jonathan Crane x f!reader summary: After giving you an experimental medication, Dr. Crane helps you get over your fear of intimacy.  word count: 2,143 warnings: 18+, minors DNI for the love of god, DARK, rough at points, I’m gonna go ahead and say NONCON, au where Dr. Crane has a private practice, abuse of power, reader is under the influence (kinda like the fear toxin), reader is sleepy, Crane doesn't take no for an answer, dacryphilia, inexperienced!reader, floor sex, spit, fighting back, a smidge of aftercare at the end. a/n: Please do not read if you’re not into what's in the warnings. I had fun experimenting with this one. I tried to be a little more thorough in the warnings. Better safe than sorry. I’m still toying around with Jonathan’s voice. Let me know if you want more of this kind of thing, or something different. I’d love to interact with you guys more!
Dr. Jonathan Crane had been treating you for the better part of a year and was in the midst of creating a new medication regimen for you. Your previous treatment plan was not working as intended, so it was back to the drawing board.
He selected you as the first person to receive an experimental medication. It was meant to be inhaled and doses were to be given during the time of the appointment. You didn’t necessarily know what to expect. He’d briefly mentioned that there may be potential side effects but didn’t go into much detail. 
You were nervous the first time you’d gone in to receive a dose. As you approached the door to his office you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. You knocked and after a moment he opened the door. Jonathan always wore the same thing most of the time. Today he donned a black blazer and slacks with a white button-up. His red tie was placed right at the center of his collar. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looks good today, you thought, better than usual. 
You exchanged your normal pleasantries and sat across from him on a couch. His office was spacious and dark. All the furniture was made of wood. In the corner, there was a big bookcase that consisted of books on fear, pharmacology, and different editions of the DSM. The DSM-4 was missing from the shelf, presumably on his desk. 
The room brought you a lot of comfort. It was the only place you ever got to see him. It felt like Dr. Crane was the only person in all of Gotham that understood you. It was his job after all. 
Soon the time came for him to administer the medication. 
“I’m going to spray in front of your face and you’re going to breathe in. It doesn’t take much to be effective.”, he said. 
You nodded and he sprayed. 
Your nerves subsided almost immediately and your mind became quiet.
“Any difference?”, he asked. 
“My mind is silent. All my racing thoughts have stopped.” 
“Good. That means it’s working. Some of the other side effects may begin to set in now.” 
He was right. Like clockwork, you started to get drowsy. It was like someone had given you a little too much Benadryl. It was hard to keep your eyes open. 
“Dr. Crane? Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but drag the ’s’. 
“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the medication working. How do you feel?” He seemed a tad on edge as he awaited your answer. 
“I feel all warm inside.” 
He then leaned back against his desk. “Any drowsiness?”
“Lots of it.” You chuckled slightly.
“That is normal.” He said, answering your question. “The medication was likely to make you feel tired.”
“Does it go away?”
“As your body builds up a tolerance, the effects will lessen. Now, I wanted to talk about the recent screenings you filled out. I would like you to check over them and rate their accuracy on a scale from one to five, five being very accurate.” 
He handed you a piece of paper and you looked it over. “Four.”
“Why not five?” His eyebrows furrowed. 
“Number six. ’S worse.” Question number six pertained to your interest in sex. More specifically how terrified you were of having it. 
It was a topic you were working on with Dr. Crane since it impacted your life so much. You were hesitant to mention it at first, but he assured you it was better to talk about it instead of holding it in. So, you spilled every detail. This included your inability to get yourself off and failed hook-up attempts.
You’d try very hard but when it came time for you to do the deed you shut down and found a way out of the situation. You hadn’t been getting out there much because, frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone was frightening. You didn’t know how you’d ever get over it. 
“Have you sought out any partners to help with your fears?”, he asked.
You took a moment to process what he said. “No, I haven’t. I can’t. It’s too-“
“Frightening, yes I remember you using that word.” He removed his glasses before continuing. “I think there’s a way I can help you with that. Personally.”
You yawned. “What do you mean by that doctor?” 
“I can make you feel better.” He looked down at you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. 
“How do you mean?” You could hear the apprehension in your voice. He ignored your question and reached down to the hem of your top, lifting it slightly. 
You pulled back a little too quickly and you got a bit dizzy. “I don’t know about that Dr. Crane. I can’t- I’m not well.”
He ignored you. “I think it’ll be easier if I just take you here on the floor.” 
He dragged you off the couch and onto the ground, sitting up. The hardwood was cold to the touch but started to warm under your body. He kneeled next to you. You tried to fight him as he reached for your sweater. He grabbed your wrists to stop you from thrashing around. 
“I would hate to have to tie you up, sweetheart.” You knew he would follow through so you did what he wanted. You stopped fighting back.
He neatly folded and put aside each article of clothing he took off your body. Eventually, you were completely bare in front of him. You were almost too gone to grasp what was going on. Almost. The fear began to creep in and he could tell. Maybe the medication was not working the way he intended it to. Maybe he lied about what it was intended to do. 
You slurred, “Dr. Crane, please don’t- Please don’t do this.” 
He leaned over you and you tried to push him away. He only offered a small smile and reached his hand down between your legs. You whimpered as his fingers moved lightly over your clit. You mewled at the new sensation. You gave in to the feeling and your eyes started to close. When they wouldn’t open again Jonathan lightly slapped your cheek. 
“No, no, no don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me.”, he said. 
You fought the exhaustion and watched as he used his fingers to tease you. 
He noticed you getting wetter and moved his fingers down to your entrance. He slowly stretched you with two fingers, watching your face as your mouth fell open. 
A tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He started slow and then moved his fingers in and out very quickly, hitting a new spot until he found the one that made your legs shake. You lied back and let him work on you. All you felt was bliss. No one had ever touched you like that. 
He took his hand away and you whined. This was a first and you were glad you made it this far. This was a win. 
You thought it was over, but then you noticed him unbuttoning his pants. 
Your breath quickened and you put your hand out. “Wait! Please, no! I think I’ve had enough for today.” 
“We’re not done with your treatment yet, princess. Please hold still. It will be easier for the both of us.” 
Your body was made of putty. The side effects had gotten worse. He brought your legs into position before grabbing himself in his hand. He stroked his cock a couple of times before entering you. 
He gave you no time to adjust. His pace was slow but he fucked hard. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before. But, that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was to feel you around him. Make you his. 
The sounds in the room sent you reeling. You didn’t know you would moan so much. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room along with his heavy breaths and moans. He grabbed your hips as he thrust hard and fast. You were having a hard time coping with all the feelings you were having at once. The fear, exhaustion, and pleasure were beginning to mix. You wanted to scream. Instead, you cried. 
Jonathan moaned at the sight. He loved watching you cry. He’d seen it happen during sessions and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if you moaned while you cried. Now he knew. You were unable to keep quiet. Silent cries became sobs which became whimpers. 
He caressed your tear-stained face, “Shhhhhh, hush now it’s alright. You’re doing so well.”
You tried to talk through your tears. “Please Jonathan- Dr. Crane, Make it stop!”
This time he went deeper. You yelped as you felt him hit a new part of you. “I’m not stopping until you tell me it feels good. Tell me, does it feel good?”
“Yes,” you moaned, “it feels good.” 
“Yeah? Are you still frightened? Are you scared of me?”
“Yes.”, you admitted. It was hard for you to get out. How could you ever fear him? All he had ever done was help you. This was just another one of his unorthodox methods. 
He bent forward and put his arms next to your ears, locking his fingers on the top of your head to hold you in place. Your body was limp as he continued fucking you into the floor. Your eyes closed; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 
He shook your head slightly. “No, eyes on me. Look at me.” 
You looked at him wide-eyed. 
“Open your mouth.” You obeyed and he spit in your mouth. In all honesty, you savored the taste. It was another way of him claiming you. 
“Swallow.” When you did he hummed contently. “Good girl.” 
You felt something weird tightening in your core. “Dr. Crane. I feel like I’m gonna-“. 
A long moan came out before you could finish your sentence. He fucked you as you rode your high and soon after his thrusts started to falter. He sat up and grabbed your hip to use as leverage. You mustered up as much energy as you could to move away from him, using your legs to drag yourself across the floor. He was much stronger than you at this point and he pulled you back. 
“No, come here. You’re gonna stay still while I finish. Got it?”
The tears kept flowing, but you obeyed. You lied back as he came inside of you. He stayed inside of you for a minute, savoring the moment. You were tired and blissed out. He pulled out of you without a word. He watched as his cum dropped out of you. 
“What a sight.”, he said matter a factly. He helped you sit up and wiped tears from your face with his thumb. He brought you close to him and kissed your forehead. 
He got up and put himself back together again. He fixed his clothing, tucking in his pristine white shirt and fastening his pants. He fixed his tie and looked past you into a mirror. 
Once satisfied, he grabbed a towel from his desk and cleaned you up. He helped you up to your feet and began dressing you. His demeanor was softer now. He took his time as he got you dressed. Once he was finished he helped you sit on the couch. You curled up into his side, seeking comfort from the man who had just used you. 
You’d never felt more confused. You knew this shouldn’t have happened. Every boundary had been crossed. But, the special attention from him felt better than anything. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He let you sleep on him for a while before he got up to write notes on what had just occurred. He found his glasses, put them on, and returned to his desk to begin writing. He included your reaction to the “medication” and how receptive you were to the treatment.
You woke up about an hour later, confused. You looked around and recognized his office. The memories of earlier events came rushing back. You felt your cheeks get hot.
Jonathan looked up from the paper he was holding up. “Rise and shine.”
He grabbed a sheet of paper from your file. He attached it to a clipboard and grabbed a pen. He handed you the materials and you looked down. It was another questionnaire. 
“Fill this out as accurately as possible.”
“What is it for?” You cleared your throat. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the paper he was previously inspecting. He looked at your file before looking back at you. 
“Our next session.”, he replied. 
2K notes · View notes
Note
AITA for asking my partner not to talk about how happy he is that Ghandi was assassinated?
I hope this doesn't get too long! 🍀
I (26, F) am Irish Australian, my partner (33, M) is Sikh. He's shared many beautiful things about his culture with me, and has a thoughtful way of describing the relationship between Sikh history and current culture.
However I get a bit uncomfortable when he talks about how Gandhi was assassinated by a Sikh person. I know enough about Gandhi to be aware that while he might've had some good impact, he had plenty of underreported bad too. But I don't pretend to understand the extent of it all.
I also understand what a complex thing that sort of cultural history is, my family joke about being proud of the assassination of Mountbatten by the IRA. But we keep that talk behind closed doors, it requires more understanding of the Troubles than the average person has. Also, joking about death is a bit nasty unless you know everyone is comfortable
My issue with my partner is that when he talks about Gandhi's death he's not speaking with a historical context. He gets very serious and sits up all tall and says proudly that Sikhs are a warrior race and they fucking delivered. He has done this in company and in private and it's always very intense and a mood killer, he is not joking at all. I think that level of confident pride in the death of another is kinda messed up
So, I asked him to not talk about it in such a full on way. He refused to apologise because he is proud of it and he said that he's glad they did it (I appreciate his honestly there). I asked if he would be pleased to see a similar event play out today, a Sikh assassinating a major political influencer. He said he would be happy and asked the same of me regarding Mountbatten (this had come up in the conversation, obviously I'm paraphrasing, the whole thing was pretty upsetting tbh) and I said no cos it's not an active war. Also, that I don't actually stand behind that I'm just comfortable with the complexity of it to joke with my family and still know people understand where I stand. Like, the IRA killed his kids too. The whole time was fucked.
He said he's not joking. He, gently, said I was being a bit of a hypocrite. He didn't promise to not talk about Gandhi, but hasn't brought it up since. I feel like he's pretty unhappy about it
I dunno, I asked him without really thinking about it all and I think he makes a good point about the Mountbatten parallel. I'm not sure if the difference in my feelings is my own ethics or just me being a bit racist. And it's not his job to make me not be racist if I've got some stuff to work through. But still, I think if it was any culture I'd be uncomfortable with that much aggressive pride in murder. Like, I've grown up in a country without a death penalty, death is not something people can dole out imo, and his approval of it is so absolute and genuine, there's no pulling the punch. Unlike my way of talking about Mountbatten.
So, AITA for asking my partner to stop talking about his pride in a Sikh person assassinating Gandhi?
What are these acronyms?
626 notes · View notes