#SAY IT WID ME NOW

[pieflavoredartz]

anhwelps i appreiate yall LIKE A LIKE.. for followin, likin my kiraboss stuffs (i care abt em deeply i do) N JS BEEIN HERE LOOK YALL HAVE NO CLUE HOW LOVLEY YOUVE MADE IT FOR ME ON TUMBLRS SO TYTY I LOVE U SM N I WISH SM FOR U OKOK BYEBYE 😭🍄😭‼️😭👵🏽👴🏽🫂😳😳🏄🏽‍♂️🏄🏽‍♂️💛💗💕💕🖤💞💝😟🧡💕🤍🧡💛💕💜

#no but to josh wid u #(not me mixin aave n white boy speech THEN AGAIN THAT IS HOW I TALK BWAHAHAHA) #some thangs happened where i wasnt doin too hot on twt #yall know if u know its all coolio now! i post there ever now but idk if ill be back on twt anytimey soon #n like for me to come here n js be me? #again?? #maneee #thank you sm homies #as my thanks i do hope my content makes yall happy as much as yall make me a happy toad <33 #…. #OH BROTHER THIS GUYS A SAPPP #pfft but for the reals tysm <3 #im gonnaaa nap zzzz #im rehearsing what to say

[lovebugism]

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜“i cant live without you” “don’t die on me, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet” “i lied i never hated you”

eddie x reader enemies to lovers 🥹🥹

pls enjoy this absolute heartache of a fic :D — you and eddie hate each other until he almost dies (angst, enemies to lovers, cw for mentions of gore, 1.1k)

“Wanna make out?” Eddie had asked you, some hours ago now, when you first arrived at the Upside Down version of Skull Rock. You’d just narrowly survived a gang of demobats, and the stale air smelled distinctly of copper pennies. He managed a smug smile anyway. “I mean, we might as well. Looks like we’re gonna die out here, anyway.”

You scoffed and rolled your tired eyes. The annoyance you felt for him then momentarily distracted you from the fear swirling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d rather,” you’d quipped.

You feel a little like you’ve prophesized something now.

Eddie bleeds out in your arms with a hundred little bites on his stomach that were supposed to be yours. He’d distracted the circling demobats when you twisted your ankle, too hurt to run away. And now he’s dying. And it’s all your goddamn fault.

You sit with him while Dustin rushes into the Creel House, in search of help from the older crew. You watch him attentively over your shoulder until he disappears behind the rotted front door. When you turn back to Eddie, you find his eyes have fluttered shut.

“Eddie—” you call for him, clearing your throat when it comes out garbled. “Eddie! Hey!”

“Hm…” he hums tiredly in response, eyes still shut.

You sigh with the subtle relief that he’s not dead. The breath catches in your chest. You try to fight away the panic attack clawing behind your ribcage, even though it makes everything around you seem more and more distant. You try to stay as present as you can despite the horrors swimming all around you — for Eddie The Freak Munson.

“You have to stay awake,” you tell him, voice thick with emotion. “Open your eyes.”

“I’m just… I feel a little tired right now,” he mumbles, slurring slightly. 

Your chest wrenches. He’s getting paler and paler by the minute. The tourniquet you made from the bottom half of your shirt is now soaked with deep red blood. Panic burns a wildfire in your chest because you’ve done everything you could think to do. 

You can’t lose him. That’s all you’re telling yourself now. You can’t lose him, you can’t lose him, you can’t lose him.

“I don’t care. Keep your eyes open, alright?”  Your heart wrenches again, with something short of hope this time, when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. They’re glassy and dilated, but the deep chocolate of them hasn’t changed. You muster a small smile. “There you go, Eds. There you go— Now, just keep talking to me, okay? Keep talking.”

“I’m tired,” he mutters under his breath, too weak to do anything more.

Your face screws together as you choke back a sob. You swallow down every instinct to cry. You’ll cry when this is over, you tell yourself, when Eddie’s safe and back in Hawkins.

“I know, Eddie. I know,” you babble through stinging tears. “But you gotta— you gotta keep talking, alright? It’ll help you stay awake. And I need you to… I need you to stay awake for me, okay?”

He nods. At least, you think he’s nodding, because the movement is terribly faint. 

His eyes fall shut again. You feel the loss of his melted chocolate gaze like a stab in the chest. Your hand grips his jaw, a little less than gentle.

“Eddie,” you bite through gritted teeth.

“Mm…”

“If you die, I swear to god, I will fucking kill you.”

The familiarity of your aggression reminds him of home. He opens his eyes and cracks a small, barely-there smile. Blood glistens on his mouth. “I thought you hated me?” he slurs in an inaudible mumble.

“I do,” you tell him without thinking twice, laughing through the sob in your throat. “But I’ll love the shit outta you if we make it out of here together.”

Together, you say, because either both of you make it out or neither of you do. 

His grin widens softly, chapped and lopsided. “Metal,” he murmurs.

A whimper sounds in your throat when his eyes flutter shut again. “Eddie…”

“‘M sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathing sharply through his nose. 

It’s getting harder and harder for him to breathe. You can tell by the harsh rise and fall of his chest. There’s little oxygen getting to his brain, accompanied by the weeping bites on his stomach— where the fuck is Dustin Henderson?

“I don’t know if I…. If I’m gonna make it outta here, babe…”

Your chest tightens. He only ever called you babe to piss you off. You wonder if he’s still being the annoying asshole you knew back home or if the term of endearment is too engrained in his head.

“Don’t say that.”

“If I don’t—”

“Eddie.”

“If I don’t make it out,” he repeats, sterner this time. He drags a sharp breath in and opens his eyes, just barely. “I want you to know that I never… I never hated you… ‘M just a liar… And a total fucking coward…”

“You can make it up to me when we get back home, okay? You just gotta stay awake.”

His lip quirks into a faint, crooked smile. “I’ve been dyin’ to kiss you since ninth grade… Did you know that?”

“I know,” you nod with an emotional laugh.

“I did make it kinda obvious, didn’t I?”

“You can kiss me when you get better. I swear.”

Eddie nods. You feel him grow heavier and heavier in your arms. His smug smile starts to fade, and you panic. “Eddie? Eddie, don’t— don’t die on me, okay? Please. We haven’t— We haven’t gotten to the good part yet, asshole. You have to stay awake.”

You shift him in your arms, trying to sit him up more when he slumps. He does little to fight you. He doesn’t have the strength to anymore.

“‘M sorry, babe,” you hear him whisper.

“No— No, don’t— Don’t fucking say that,” you scold bitterly, less angry at him and more at the rest of the world. It should’ve been you lying here, after all, not him. You’d trade places in a heartbeat if you could. “You can’t die, you asshole! How am I supposed to— fucking— keep going without you annoying the living shit outta me?”

“Henderson’ll annoy you for the both of us,” he manages to joke as life spills from the weeping wounds on his stomach.

“Fuck that. It’s not the same— I need you, Eddie. I need you, okay? I can’t— I can’t fucking live without you,” you cry over his pale, bloodied body.

You hear yelling and a set of rushed footsteps. “Eddie!” Dustin calls as he dashes down the decrepit porch steps of the old home — with Steve, Nancy, and Robin following close behind.

The sight of them makes you sigh. Your chest starts to sparkle with a hope you’d thought you lost — damn near aching when Eddie’s glassy eyes flutter open once more. 

The fucker grins weakly up at you. “I knew you had a crush on me, babe.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 5.

Summary: Reader, Oliver, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus clubbing, costume parties, and Oliver being a fucking tease.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: drinking/intoxication/drug use

A/N: 3148 words. now we're cooking with gas, folks! i might be too sleepy for a real author's note, but just know, as always, its unedited and i love you. have fun, please let me know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Can I be bold for a minute?" On the roof of one of the dorm buildings, you and Oliver are waiting for Felix. It's twilight, the sky painted lavender by the setting sun and encroaching night, and everything feels a little dreamy.

"If anyone would appreciate boldness, Ollie, it's me," you tell him blithely around the cigarette you're trying to light. Still, he's quiet for this one moment, watching the way you cup your hand around the little flame to shield it from the wind.

"How did you and Farleigh ever get so close, considering how he treats you?"

You're pretty sure you know why he's asking you, considering what few interactions he'd witnessed between yourself and Farleigh, but it's still unexpected coming from him. For a moment, your gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. When your gaze meets his, he's looking at you with that intent, inquisitive look he got in moments like these, moments he seemed to fish for information without seeming like that was what he was doing. The silence and look that you level at him seem to throw him off guard, and immediately he drops his gaze to his feet, swinging off the edge of the building.

"That is bold," you finally settle on, watching Oliver fidget. His ankles cross, his shoulders slump; again he makes himself as small as possible. You deliberately make your tone lighter when you continue, "what's got you worried 'bout me an Farleigh?"

"I mean, all I'm saying is that he was being nasty to you, but now you're both kind of acting like he wasn't."

It's true; since his apology that Sunday morning Farleigh had been keeping his word about not being too bitter about Oliver to or even around you and Felix. You, in turn, made a special effort to spend time with him, pay him attention, made him feel like your priority on occasion. Both you and Farleigh were well aware of what you were doing, but he always enjoyed your company and attention, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.

"Farleigh and I understand each other."

"He slept with your girlfriend."

"India's not my girlfriend."

"He- he keeps calling you a dog."

That hit a nerve. You hadn't realised he was paying attention to that back at the pub. You swallow hard and look out at the horizon.

"And?" Raising the cigarette to your lips again, you don't look at him as you take a very long drag on it, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," you breathe out with the smoke.

"Doesn't seem like the way friends should talk about each other is all," Oliver says quietly, notes of apology in his voice; you can see him looking at you again out of the corner of your eye.

"Best friend, actually," you finally sigh, letting the tension drop from your shoulders and the moment. As you look at him over your shoulder, you give a faint smile in the face of his confusion, "we've known each other long enough that we can say pretty much anything we want to each other. Only problem is that Farleigh knows that pushing my buttons also pushes Fi's buttons, which is why he does it so often. He's a shit-stirrer, but you haven't known us long enough to know he doesn't really mean it," you tell him with surprising fondness in your voice.

"I'm sorry for prying," Oliver says earnestly, and you smile wider.

"I'm sorry for being so defensive; I realise how it must look from the outside."

Before anything else can be said, the door to the roof bursts open, and Felix greets you both with a hundred-watt smile and a packet of fish and chips in his hands. You descend on him like a seagull, swapping your cigarette for the hot food, tearing into the paper wrapping and settling by the wall at the edge of the roof near Oliver once more.

There's a beat where Felix is watching you and Oliver, his smile soft and fond and endeared, but there's something in his eyes that's been there since that lunched they'd shared at the pub -

"I shouldn't say -" there's a lot of things Felix shouldn't do that he does anyways. Considering his wealth, he could get away with a lack of self control, "I just genuinely didn't know, I mean I might have guessed- did you know?"

"Know what, Fi?" You're still in his bed, bleary-eyed and desperately wanting to go back to sleep when he'd come back from the pub buzzing instead of tired, as he'd predicted.

He'd spent the better part of the afternoon with his head on your chest, explaining the almost Dickensian tragedy that was Oliver's life. Sure you were listening, but you didn't have much to contribute other than faint noises of interest while your fingers carded through his hair.

There's something about the way Felix recounts all this information to you, the way he finds it salacious and heart-breaking all in one. You can hear in his voice that he'd captivated, that he's endeared by the struggle that has followed Oliver throughout his life. As much as you loved him, you'd watched time and again the way he'd fall for tragic tales and the people who'd recount them; Felix had a saviour complex, and it was the only thing the two of you had ever fought about.

Last year it had been Eddie, the worst of the bunch so far. Like Oliver but in the opposite direction; too much, too loud, too confident to hide his ugly secrets and desperation to be wanted. Eddie had been Icarus, taking for granted the wax wings Felix had given him, the good life, attention, a comrade who almost understood him. But he'd played with fire, played with Venetia too many times, and the wax wings melted. Not that you'd cared; you were the one who spotted them, you were the one that told Farleigh, you were the one who listened to Felix's furious rants every few days for the rest of that Summer. You'd never liked Eddie like Felix liked Eddie.

Oliver was different. You wondered if he was different enough.

Still, as much as you liked Oliver you could see it in Felix's eyes, hear it in his voice; he was already getting himself addicted to the idea of how much better he could make Oliver's life. But Felix had hated it the last time you'd pointed something like that out.

("Then why the fuck would I keep you around? Maybe it's because I don't pick my friends based on whether they're charity cases!")

So you keep your mouth shut. Maybe it's worth it for the way Felix smiles -

"I don't -" Oliver's fidgeting when Felix asks him to tag along to a costume party, "have anything to wear, really," he admits. Immediately Felix is offering to let him borrow something. There's a flicker that looks almost hungry in Oliver's eyes amid the gratefulness, and you wonder if he knows how many people would kill to get into Felix's pants. Still, he's humble, "you don't have to do that."

"I don't have to do anything," Felix shrugs with the easiest smile in the world. Then, in the next sentence, completely glossing over the act of kindness he looks at you, "tell me you aren't still expecting Farleigh to commit to that devil costume with you."

"He told me he'd put effort in this year -"

"He tells you that every year," Felix laughs, and you lean into Oliver's shoulder to explain.

"Me and Farleigh always organise to go to one costume party per year as an angel and a devil -"

"And every year," Felix rolls his eyes with a good-natured exasperation, "Farleigh wears some vulgar t-shirt and two party hats for horns, while Y/N puts weeks of effort in and wins best dressed every time-"

"Not every time," you protested, while Oliver looked faintly impressed, leaning back against you too.

"The only times you haven't won best dressed was if there was no competition to win," Felix points out, before looking past you to Oliver with an amused smile, "so I can't promise you a Y/N-level of costume, but it'll be more than two party hats."

"If you wanna give me two party hats, I'll wear 'em," Oliver says, hands coming up as if to placate the both of you. Instead, you grin wider, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll make you all pretty, Ollie, don't worry."

Unsurprisingly, on the night of the party, Farleigh showed up to 'get ready' at your dorm, which meant him lazing on your bed, drinking and sharing his coke with you while you put arguably too much effort into your makeup. He, of course, is wearing two party hats, and t-shirt that simply says 'EASY', and though you pretend to be annoyed for all of five minutes, he gives a shit eating grin as you chew him out.

"Fool you once, shame on me, sure; fool you six times, that's on you, Y/N."

You flipped him off with a grin.

"There they are!" India cheers from the sofas where your other friends are gathered when you arrive to the party. Farleigh, on your arm, makes a show of his entrance, "not you, Farleigh, obviously." India rolls her eyes, but thankfully Farleigh wasn't too put out. Instead, he swans towards the group to claim a seat.

"Give us a spin, angel," Annabel insists with a coy smile, and you oblige her to the whistles and cheers of the rest of your friends.

"You outdo yourself," Felix told you fondly as you dropped into a beanbag by the sofa he and Oliver had been occupying.

Felix is looking at you, that kind of dangerous look when he thinks you're especially hot and there's only a thirty percent chance that the two of you will even make it to a dark corner. For just a moment, however, your gaze flicks to Oliver, by his side, and he's watching Felix too, absolutely rapt by the way your best friend looks at you.

"Only in comparison to Farleigh," you shake your head, forcing yourself to be Felix's self restraint, especially so early in the night, "besides, look at you; you've certainly grown into this since I last saw you try it on," and you leaned forward as best you could, looking across the circle of friends to the pretty, redhead in the slinky nurse outfit, "how fucking good does Felix look, Annabel?" You ask pointedly, and you can see Felix give a restrained chuckle before turning his attention to his own not-girlfriend, who seemed glad for the chance to gush about him.

Sitting back, you chance a glance once more at Oliver, and somehow aren't surprised to see him looking back at you. All you do is smirk, well aware of what you were doing.

Felix's clothes are too big on Oliver. The costume, though you're not exactly sure what he's meant to be, kind of wears him instead of the other way around. Felix, of course, looks all kinds of gorgeous as a police officer, while Oliver looked rather like he's wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs. But he's rolls up the sleeves and always looks up at Felix with these blue, doe eyes shining with gratefulness, and no-one else cares enough to comment either way.

You wonder if anyone else has noticed, the way Oliver's personality changes with his focus. It's not in large ways, perhaps others think its like a trick of the light, but the way he looks at others, the way he behaves, it seems to vary from person to person. Tactile, distant, closed off, hesitant, open, honest, warm, skittish, never truly the same with each individual. It's like he watches, figures out what people want to hear, what they want from him, and does his best to give it to them. It's almost painfully familiar.

Oliver gives Felix what he wants in a way you know you never can; Oliver gives him someone to help, someone to feel like he's saving. As long as Felix is happy, you tell yourself, that is enough, and it's easy to like Oliver in your own way. The only problem you've found is that as much as you like Oliver, as intrigued as you are by him, you can't quite get a read on him, what he wants, what your place may be in his life. He's always watching, always searching for something, but you're never sure of what.

So you decide to show him love, show him appreciation the way you know best.

More and more you choose to stay by his side when you're all out, at the pub, at clubs, either of you are not with Felix, or if you're not otherwise occupied by someone requesting your attention, you'll be with Oliver.

Tonight, at the club, a girl from town had been occupying Felix's personal space for the better part of an hour, and by the time he has her against a wall down a dark corridor, Oliver's absconded from the dance floor to get another drink, but hasn't returned. You find him skulking against a wall, half drunk pint in his hand, gazing out through the crowd. When you join him, when you follow his gaze, you can see the silhouette of Felix and the girl, his hand up her shirt through the haze.

"It doesn't bother you?" Oliver asks, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else.

"The girls don't bother me," an easy, languid smile spreads across your face, "the girls love me," you amend, smile turning a little smug as you watch Felix and the girl whose name you can't even been be bothered to recall.

"Felix's girls?* Ever-hesitant Oliver, even here and now, sounds carefully demure amongst his curiosity, "do you -?" He makes an awkward gesture, but you read his intentions and laugh dismissively.

"No, no... well," you pause for a moment, "occasionally I have my fun, I suppose, but not like that; girls who are into Felix aren't traditionally into me like that, no," you shake your head with an an missed smile, "but that's why they like me, I'm not a threat, see?"

Even through the haze and flashing lights, you can see Felix's hands on the girl; he's warm and rough and the way he holds always feels so fucking secure -

Looking away sharply, you're surprised by how intently Oliver's watching you. Its genuinely startling, and though he seems to understand this but doesn't look away. For just a moment your breathless, caught up in the night and the jealousy and want for your best friend that you usually have much more control over - your own words echo in your head; I'm not a threat, see? A smug lie, a joke at all those poor girl's expenses since you knew they were never going to last.

Oliver's gaze burns when you finally look him squarely in the eyes; he knows.

"I get the impression people assume a great many things about our Felix," he wets his lips, casting his gaze to darkened hallway, to where you had seen Felix with his mouth on the neck of his girl of the night, but you can't look away from him. Our Felix. "And about you."

"And you?" Your tongue darts out, wetting you lips as you draw Oliver's attention back to you, tone flirty. There's something exhilarating about this man that you can't help but want to tease out.

"Not much to assume," he gives a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm more the observant type than one whose observed."

"You make the assumptions."

"I make the assumptions," he actually smirks, a bit of that usual gentle hesitation that he approached the world with slipping for just a moment.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Do you have a lot of assumptions about Our Felix?" You tease his earlier wording, but once again his gaze drifts to your best friend, if he still is in the crowd. Them, quieter, almost as if you don't mean to you murmur, "or me?"

"Had."

"Had?"

"Had a lot of assumptions," there's a kind of mischief in his eyes as his tone takes on an air of nonchalance, "'bout him, 'bout you too." As he speaks, you step towards him, hand on his arm, moving steadily higher. He can feel it, you know he can, but all he does is smile wider, refusing to break your gaze.

"Like what, Oliver Quick?"

Leaning in, Oliver takes your face in his hands, bringing you close, sharing breath, lips inches from his.

"Like how they write Odysseys about your kind of loyalty," he mumbled, and you feel like his gaze alone could swallow you whole. There's a aching, yearning that you feel in this moment, when you crush your lips to his. It's quick and desperate, and he pulls back, "like how you show love with every fuckin' bit of that body of yours," this time he pulls you in and it's rougher, it's needy, he bites at your lip and you whimper against his mouth, press yourself against him, "like-" he kisses you quickly, "like- like-" but as you find yourself trailing rough kisses down his jaw, he seems to lose his train of thought.

"Yes?" You prompt with a laugh.

"Like how you're desperate to feel needed."

"Observant," you tell him softly, raising your head, arms still around him. In this moment, his expression is open, watching you, waiting for you to react, "more observant than anyone else."

"You wear it on your sleeve, sweetheart," he says bluntly, but something about being seen, about his unwavering honesty, that sets your heart beating, burning in your chest. Or perhaps it's that he called you sweetheart; it's rare that someone is so sweet to you.

"Then need me, want me."

"I do," this time when he kisses you, it's gentle, full of warmth and unexpected love, and the way he holds you close makes you feel so precious and desired at once, "but not like this, not now." And he's letting you go, despite the way your lips tingle and the damn butterflies in your stomach. You desperately want to cling to him, to ask him what the fuck he means, but he kisses you on the forehead and tells you to get back safe, wearing an almost smug, knowing smile, disappearing into the crowd. You can't even go after him, he's made you damn weak in the knees and all you can do is lean against the wall for support.

Felix and his girl have disappeared.

Your friends are still living it up on the dance floor, you're sure, but you have only one thought on your mind.

Oliver Quick is a fucking tease.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #manic writer

[thebestandrealestever]

..shut up my moms calling !

miles morales 42 x black fem reader

sum: miles is always there . warns : cursing . a/n : the blue story is not coming out right now, i done got my heart played wid so bad . it hurts to much to write that story and i need sum happy . it is coming out just not now, sorry to let u down . and sorry this short i got finals coming up , bop = hoe

based off jace nd crystal from swagger .

miles has always been there , even when he wasn’t he was . you could feel his eyes on you when he wasn’t even in the room , you hoped it wasn’t just you being delusional and your falling out hurt him as much as it did you . now what you didn’t know is it hurt him so much more, it consumed him . and he did swing by your house , your school , and your job . where ever he knew you would be just to see you . you fell out because he was with a girl and he wasn’t treating her the best and u checked him on it . he didn’t wanna be with her and you didn’t want him to either but you’ve known each other way too long to say anything . his parents and yours would often tell each other it was only temporary, you both thought it was weird they stayed in touch but you both hoped it was. you checked on him too , watching his location on your phone or even stopping by the bodega he’s always at . you were actually doing it right now , at the lil corner store miles was always at . you roamed the store just to do it and then you saw curly hair that couldn’t be any one else , you saw your best friend . but to not make it look like you were stalking him, you quietly walked in the aisle he was in . fake looking at the candy while your mind and heart were racing . and he noticed you too , he noticed you walk all the way over there and noticed you looking at candy you didn’t even like.

“hey bop” he finally said turning his head to quickly scan you then turning back and his tone irked you a little but you shook it off .

“who a bop ? anyway hey girl .. “ “ i miss you .” he said in a hushed tone so maybe you wouldn’t hear . “i miss you too, a lot.” you said and his nonchalant demeanor broke , the real him returning , only you could do that . he put his candy down , hugging you as he let out a breath he didn’t know he had . you leaned into the familiar touch , you really really missed him .

“can we not do this again ? life so boring without my favorite hoe .” you said with a sweet smile truly meaning every word , “say it again i bet iah smack tf outta you .” he said laughing and you laughed too, acting as it no time had passed , but you both knew nothing could go unsaid , as the laughter died down and you left the store he spoke up . “ i’m sorry.. about acting like that , i just don’t get why it made you so upset i was with her .” he said walking on the outside of you like he always did . “ion know i guess i didn’t want you with her , you were also treating her like a dog .” you said mindlessly only realizing when it already left your mouth , did you just say that ? “shit not that like i wanted you or anything, i just didn’t want gwen to be h-“ “she wasn’t you , i tried to see you in her but i just couldn’t .” he said stopping in his tracks pulling your hand to turn around at him , “oh , u want me real bad get off my body damn .” you said obviously kidding to avoid talking about your feelings “u play too much” he said leaning into kiss you for like the 4th time ? you always ended up kissing miles , so you let him and it happened like it always happened . it was special like always, different than anybody you’d ever kissed . “you like me or sum ? you always kissing me like damn nigga get out my mouth !” “yo stfu fore i rly do sum to you lil boy .” he said as he starting walking again and you looked around for the “lil boy” “where he at? ion see no lil boys” you said catching up with him and he just chuckled as his response . “i want you , i want us” he finally said as you smiled at the words you’ve waited so long for , “me too .”

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #black reader #black fem reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #spotify #earth 42 miles x black reader #earth 42 prowler

[pinkuberii]

- In between part II -

Tw: Albedo’s part may be a liiiitle bit suggestive Wc: 1643 Genre: Fluff Summary: Some other genshin men (Xiao, Wanderer, Albedo & Alhaitham) letting their head rest between your thighs A/N: wOW LOOK AT ME POSTING SOMETHING AFTER MONTHS- I hope that you guys like it though because I haven’t written in a while! <333

Part I (Diluc, Childe, Kaeya and Zhongli) -> <3 Masterlist -> <3

Xiao:

I don’t know how you managed to convince him

But honestly congratulations

Like it definitely must have been hard-

y/n can you perhaps share your techniques with us-

I have to manipulate my mom into saying “yes” to a few things

oh my god 50 words in and I still didn’t start-

BUT ANYWAY-

After hours you managed to persuade him into resting his head between your super amazing thighs 🫶

He’d be so so so shy, especially when you first shared your idea with him

And you’d be able to see that on his face and eyes

Because the eyes never deceive

His cheeks are no longer pale but there’s a soft pink hue on them

Just like the color of the silk flowers that bloom right in front of Wangshu inn <3

Don’t get me started with his golden eyes that can’t gaze straight into yours like they usually do

They’re staring at the wooden floor right now-

Sir what so interesting about the floor I’m curious- 🎤🎤🎤

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, not at all!

But this is just the first time that he’ll do something more intimate… something that requires more touching…

When he finally gained enough courage to glance towards your direction his eyes immediately focused on the sight of your bare thighs, a deep breath deserting his soft lips as he moved closer.

As you slowly opened your legs for him you couldn’t do much but smile. It was rare to see someone this calm become this flustered after all. “If I knew that you’d blush this much I would’ve offered to do this way sooner,” you said softly.

He managed to mutter a quiet “c’mon” before placing his head between your thighs. The warmth of your body made him feel at ease. Everything about this was already so comforting to him. The way it felt, how relaxed he became after your fingers started to travel through his dark locks, the way his hand held yours and many more things he could possibly think of.

Maybe you were right, maybe you should’ve offered to do this way sooner… 

He surprisingly loves it 

This is straight up intimacy to him-

Please do it more often with him y/n :(

During the whole thing he’s clueless on what to do though

So he just keeps his eyes closed and holds your hand that is currently free

Wanderer:

y/n what the phoque did you just propose to him???? 

He’s absolutely flabbergasted as we speak… and flustered too-

But you don’t have to know that, that’s not important <3

I mean he’s a puppet so can he even blush-?

He probably can’t and that’s lowkey sad-

I’m gonna paint his cheeks pink for you y/n- 🫶

Pinker than the dendrobiums that you can find on Nazuchi Beach

You’ve known him for a while so you quickly noticed how his behavior was a bit off…

Like his usual confident self was nowhere to be spotted

He’s trying to act all cocky though but he is failing miserably :(

For some reason he can’t even make a snarky comment back like he usually does-

And woah-

Did he just start to stutter??? That is new… 🤨

He’s been through a lot so showing and receiving affection really isn’t his forte-

It’s something he has to learn

But you’re here to help him with that <3

His indigo eyes just glance from your face to your thighs… and your face again… and now your thighs once again. “Everything to make them happy,” he thought to himself before mumbling a soft “I’ll do it” to you.

Upon hearing those words the corners of your lips immediately rose and your legs opened widely for him. To your surprise he accepted your offer quite quickly considering you had thought that it’d take way more to persuade him. Your (e/c) colored eyes avidly watched him place his head between your legs as you couldn’t conceal your wide smile.

He clearly felt your warm thighs press against his cheeks, the heat of them making his own face warm. In a gentle manner he put his hands on them and started to give small strokes with his thumbs. It was his own subtle way of thanking you. 

“I’m thinking that you’re liking this… You would’ve pulled your face away already if you ha–”, a sudden pain made you put a halt to your words.

He’s back to normal now dammit :/

He pinched you… as a little warning-

But he did it softly because he loves you <3

Lowkey wants to do it a bit more often but knowing him he wouldn’t say that to your face

Y’know what he also does-

Squeeze your thighs even tighter against his face to the point where his cheeks get squished

Hehehe

Albedo:

Tell him that it’s for science-

Or that you’re curious about something and want to test your theory out-

But say that first before explaining the the whole I-want-your-head-to-rest-between-my-thighs thing

He probably has a faint red color on his cheeks when you tell him all that for the very first time <3

Anyway Albedo is a smart guy so he probably is fully aware that you don’t have a theory to prove to begin with-

AKA you just want his head ✨ there ✨ and he knows it

But he’ll help you out nonetheless because you make his heart flutter-

His heart basically goes nuts hehe

Strangely enough only your presence, actions, words etc… has such effects on his body…

I don’t mean anything suspicious with this iN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING- 

*cOugh*

aNyWaY-

He has that smug expression on his face again

Smugbedo

Yeah that

But he’s also a little bit shy and flustered at the same time

It’s you so he can’t help it :( 

Probably gives your thighs a few smooches before placing his head between them 

Starts squeezing them too while he’s at it because he adores your body

One happy alchemist as we speak

After giving your legs some kisses he positions himself between them, happily letting you squeeze his face. As you two sit in silence you suddenly feel his ungloved hands on your bare thighs tracing figures.

“Someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, can they,” you teased as you leaned closer to the male in front of you. Your nose inhaled his sweet scent as your lips gave kisses on his head, your own hands on top of his now.

Albedo chuckled before answering, “And you can’t stop kissing me so I guess we’re even, no? Besides–,” he turned around to face you, “what are you trying to prove? What are you researching?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

He smirked at you before turning around, “thought so.”

Told ya he’s smart :d

In my opinion he’s a bit more on the teasing side when he’s alone with his lover and moments like these happen

90% of the time he’s his usual self

bUT THAT 10 PERCENT-

Funnily enough, next time he wants something like this to happen he’ll approach you with the same excuse you had

“y/n can you sit like this for me for a quick second I must research something rather important–”

And my archons what do we have here-

Is that Albedo’s head between your thighs-???

Alhaitham:

I wanna write for this dude 

And that’s exactly what I’m doing on this fine Wednesday morning desPITE BEING SICK-

Okay but-

When you first suggest it he’s looking at you like this

:|

,’:|???

Yes those are his eyebrows, he’s frowning don’t judge me-

You’d have to ask it a few times before he gives in though

In my opinion he isn’t the biggest fan of PDA, nor is he touchy or clingy either

He reminds me of a rock, like I’m straight up getting rock vibes from him

If you look good and close enough you may be able to see that little blush on his cheeks… And maybe his ears too…

Squint your eyes a bit if your eyesight is bad like mine :(

He’d take his big ass headphones off just for you <3

Why use noise canceling headphones when y/n’s thighs aRE RIGHT THERE- ;););)

Before sitting between your legs he would probably give your thighs a few squeezes and kisses

He’s not the most romantic man out there but it’s his way of saying and showing that he loves and appreciates you 🫶

Turns out that your thighs work better than his headphones???

He’s shocked… stunned… flabbergasted…

But at the same he kind of loves it… ehe

“I’m starting to hear noises from outside again,” Alhaitham mumbled before putting his book down. Once his hands were free he used them to grab your thighs rather tenderly once again, bringing them closer to his ears, “Make sure to keep them closed like this.” After that he picked his book up again to continue reading from where he left off… as if he just didn’t fluster the shit out of you. 

The only thing you could possibly mutter was a faint sounding “okay”. God, even his little wish made a pinkish hue appear on your face and you simply couldn’t do anything about it. You two sat in that position for a little while before he finally closed that thick book in his hands to look at you.

As his teal eyes gazed into yours he spoke feebly, “In all honesty… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more often… If you’d want to, that is.”

It’s Alhaitham approved, congratulations (y/n) 😼👍

He’s an honest man so you definitely know that he liked it

If you think about it it’s him being busy with you while he reads his books

He’s multitasking 

But he’s doing the two things that he likes ;)

So it’s a win-win

#esu writes—📝 #genshin impact #genshin #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #alhaitham x reader #xiao genshin impact #wanderer genshin impact #scaramouche genshin impact #albedo genshin impact #alhaitham genshin impact #xiao x you #albedo x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x reader

[moralesmilesanhour]

if you believe in me - 02

summary: word gets around fast. wc: 2256 a/n: got too impatient soooo here we are lmao. I'll still be writing ahead I just wanted to post this one lil thing. warning for like one vague sex joke prev next

Your hands swung between the two of you until you reached the bottom steps of Visions Academy. The moment you began your ascent, little gasps and whispers followed not far behind. Miles’ hand began to squirm, as if trying to weasel his way out of the vice grip you had on it as you tugged him along. The reason why dawned on you when you entered the main hall:

Everyone was staring.

Scanning the clusters of students gathered in front of the escalators, you noticed that some of their mouths had fallen open in shock. You turned to glance at Miles, who was staring straight ahead with his brows knit together with worry. 

“Miles, what’s wrong–”

“Y/N?”

Tianna’s voice interrupted before you could finish the question. The short, dark-skinned girl ran up to you for a quick hug, the smell of her vanilla body mist wafting off of her uniform.

She pulled away to give Miles a once-over, narrowing her eyes at him. He nervously avoided making eye contact.“I see you didn’t take my advice, as always.”

“Well, we met up this morning,” you shrugged. “It worked out.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Miles remarked quietly.

“I know,” your friend shot back as she tugged your arm to pull you away. “A moment, please?”

He raised his hands in surrender, and you gave him an apologetic smile as you let go of his hand. You followed Tianna until you reached a spot where he’d be out of earshot, where she stopped abruptly. She spun around to face you with her arms folded.

 “Y/N…girl.”

“What? He said we were a thing when I asked him–”

“You had to ask him?” Tianna sighed, massaging her temples. “At least I know you weren't lying about the kiss.”

Your mouth fell open in offense, making her burst into laughter. 

“Girl, fuck you! You thought I was lying?” you yelled as you gave her a playful shove.

“It’s Miles Morales! I don’t think he’s even had a full conversation with anybody since ninth grade. How you got him to kiss you is beyond me.”

“What does that mean?” you laughed. “You’re mad disrespectful.”

“That’s not the point, though. He didn’t even text you first.”

“Maybe he just forgot my number.”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know a lot about him!”

Tianna raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Name three things you know about him that he told you himself.”

“Easy,” you began counting on your fingers, “He doesn’t like wearing his glasses, he likes rock music, and, um…”

You paused, racking your brain for something that you didn’t have to find out from asking around. Tianna’s lips were pressed into a thin line, wholly unimpressed. She sighed again.

“Yeah, okay, sis–”

“Wait!” you interrupted in a last-ditch effort to defend yourself. “He told me he’s actually not a gang member like people say, so that’s a plus, right?”

She saw the desperate look on your face and shook her head. 

“Look, just…be careful, alright? If you not gonna listen to me, at least do that much,” Tianna pushed you gently back in Miles’ direction just as the morning bell rang. “Now go to class.”

You looked back at her one last time and smiled. “Thanks.”

Miles looked up expectantly as you jogged over to him. “So? What was that about?”

“Girl stuff,” you lied, sticking out your hand. “Walk me to class?”

As soon as you made it up the escalator, Miles mentally prepared himself to make his way through the crowded hallway. He wasn’t used to being at school this early, and it seemed that–judging by the sudden rise in conversation and exaggerated ‘oooh!’s as you passed by–neither were his fellow students.

Your homeroom wasn’t too many doors down from his, so he gently let go of your hand just outside Ms. Keene’s classroom.

“Aight, see you in calc–”

“Um, sir,” you stopped him before he could turn around, with a hand on your hip. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Miles’ eyes narrowed, then widened in understanding when you placed a finger on your cheek. He glanced towards the clusters of kids gathered around their lockers.

Many were still watching out of curiosity, looking for something to talk about come lunchtime. He turned to you and smiled apologetically. 

"Later."

"Imma hold you to that, Morales!" you called out behind you as you finally entered the classroom.

“Good morning, miss L/N,” Keene greeted with her eyes still glued to her laptop. 

Every morning, she’d project the list of morning announcements onto the whiteboard then spend the rest of homeroom checking emails. The class was allowed to chat idly until the bell rang, just as long as it didn’t get loud enough to catch the attention of any administrators.

“G’morning!” you replied.

You had just sat down when a nasally voice asked suddenly, “Did you get Callahan’s homework done on time?”

Startled, your head snapped towards the girl sitting next to you, Caitlyn. As always. 

She leaned forward with her palm cradling her chin, pale and freckled face beaming with anticipation as if gossiping with a friend. The girl hardly knew you.

“Um, yeah, it…wasn’t too bad,” you replied tentatively. “You?”

“Girl, I was struggling,” she answered with a wave of her hand. The phrase came out oddly, like she was reciting lines off of a script, and it made you cringe internally. “Spent nearly the whole night on it.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and nodded. Just before you could fully turn away, though, Caitlyn jumped to another topic.

“So you and Miles are like, together, right?”

“...Yup.”

Her eyes widened in anticipation.

“So what’s he like? Outside of school, I mean.”

Grinning to yourself, you almost spilled every detail: the glasses, his dimples when he smiled–like, really smiled–and jazz music. But she didn’t need all that.

“He’s…cute. Real smart-ass, though.” you answered while fiddling with the lead in your mechanical pencil.

Caitlyn snorted, “No shit. I heard he used to give Ms. Jones hell in AP Calc once he got back from his, um…break.”

Your expression soured at that last bit.

“You got anything specific you wanna ask me?”

“Have you two…? Y’know.” 

She made her eyebrows jump up and down, making it uncomfortably clear what she was implying.

“No,” you replied coarsely. “And if we did, I wouldn’t be tellin’ you.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to respond, but was swiftly cut off by the bell. 

You rose from your seat and swung your book bag over your shoulder as quickly as possible before making your escape into the hallway. 

Three more periods of that to go. Lovely.

A chorus of boys whooped and hollered when Miles passed by them on the way back to his locker. 

“Yo, is that my son Miles? On time?”

The voice calling out to him belonged to Jeremiah, a shorter boy with dark skin and newly-cut hair after spending the entirety of ninth grade with a short, unstyled afro. A tiny grin played on Miles’ lips. They used to hoop with some of the Brooklyn Middle kids after school, before everything happened. 

It wouldn’t kill him to say ‘hi’.

“I’m always on time, y’all just early!” he called out over his shoulder, even doing the little salute his dad would always do when he dropped Miles off.

This lift in his mood would be killed swiftly by third period, when Hakim ripped out one of his airpods. Right at the bridge of one of his favorite songs, too.

“What you listenin’ to, Morales?”

Miles glared daggers into him, but the boy was never really one to take a hint.

Hakim went on, “Huh. Didn’t pin you as a seventies guy.”

He returned the earbud, ruffling dark ringlets that nearly covered his eyes. It used to be much shorter, until he grew it out in eighth grade and soon realized that girls preferred it that way. 

“I’m full of surprises,” Miles muttered darkly, examining the airpod between his fingers. He made a face at it, and decided they were unfit to stick back into his ears before storing them in their case. “Sumn you need?”

Hakim opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Mr. Callahan’s booming voice:

“Hold the side conversations, please.”

“My fault, sir,” Miles replied. He didn’t need to rack up behavioral infractions at ten in the morning.

The middle-aged man paused his scribbling on the whiteboard and turned around. He stared directly at Miles like a child about to pull a prank.

“Actually, Morales, since you’re so talkative today and–well–actually here,” he pointed with the dry-erase marker in his hand, “Why don’t you help us calculate the total charge of this particle?”

…Right. 

Miles had almost forgotten that, technically, he was still Callahan’s ‘star student’. 

He’d never forget when the former university professor pulled him aside after a particularly difficult class and told him:

 “Y’know, I’d actually have you teach this class on some days if that was allowed. Like a high school T.A., but without the salary!” 

He’d forced a polite laugh, then. The man genuinely seemed to believe that he’d told a good joke. 

That’s the thing about teachers who believe in you: they won’t just ignore you sitting in the back of the classroom with your airpods in.

Miles gave Callahan a pointed look as he took the marker from him and got to work. If it could even be called that. 

Inventing sneakers that defied gravity in his room made this all look like basic addition. Most of it was just a series of conversions, nothing that a bit of mental math couldn’t solve. He boxed his answer then looked up for approval that he didn’t need.

“Correct as always, Morales. You may return to your seat,” Callahan raised an eyebrow, “Quietly. Not all of us are as adept as you are and do still need to focus.”

“You got it, boss.”

Miles handed the marker over before shuffling back to his seat. Feeling the classroom full of eyes burning into his clothes, he considered waking up late on purpose from now on if it meant avoiding them. 

Shortly afterwards, the class transitioned into his least favorite section: partner work. Miles could usually get away with ignoring whatever poor soul had been seated next to him, but some were a little too…persistent. Asking him to solve every problem for them as if he alone could bring their grades up. 

The thought reminds him of someone, and a lopsided smile spreads across his face.

“Yo, who got you smiling like that?”

He snapped out of his contemplation and turned reluctantly toward Hakim.

“Nothing,” Miles answered sharply. “Nobody.”

“It definitely ain’t nobody,” Jeremiah piped up from the seat behind him. Since when did he take this class? 

“We all saw you this morning, bro, who is she?”

“Yeah, spill!”

Miles inhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose before responding, “Y/N.”

“That’s your girl? Since when?”

“Since…”

Since three and a half hours ago.

“Since last week.” He nodded curtly.

“That’s a relief,” Hakim remarked. “We thought you were gonna be a hermit for the rest of your life.”

Miles snorted. “Don’t rule it out just yet, the year's not over.”

Jeremiah piped up again, “Off-topic, but have you finished this packet yet? This shit kinda blowin’ my mind right now.”

“What do you think?”

Lunch rolled around, and Miles had never rushed upstairs faster. He was not in the mood to have the counselor pick apart every word that left his mouth and drone on about his “journey with grief”. 

He was fine. He just needed to be somewhere where no one was fucking watching him.

Miles wouldn’t get that, though, because you were sitting in his spot, eating half of a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Took you long enough,” you said before taking another bite. He grinned and shook his head.

“And what business you got up here?”

You set the sandwich down and tilted your head. “You think I forgot about this morning?”

Miles sat down next to you with a grunt, and crossed his legs.

“That serious, huh?”

“Very. Might keel over and die without it.”

He leaned in and planted a warm kiss on your left cheek. “We can’t have that, now, can we?”

Just before Miles could put any more distance between you, you gently placed a hand beneath his chin. It’d been a while since you’d had a good look at his face.

Faint freckles dotted across his cheeks, a tiny scar through his brow that you don’t remember being there. He squinted when the sunlight hit his face, and for a second his left eye looked like it was a duller shade of brown than the right. Almost green.

“Y/N? You–”

You pressed your lips against his before he could finish the sentence. Miles remembered to tilt his head and relaxed into the kiss as your hand moved to the nape of his neck to toy with one of his braids. He still didn’t know where to put his hands.

When you pulled away, he couldn’t look you in the eye. It made you giggle to watch his pupils dart to and fro, not knowing where to land. 

Miles took a deep breath to collect himself, but the exhale came out a quiet laugh.

“Ion know if I’ll ever get used to that,” he half-whispered.

An impish smile spread across your face. “You wanna practice?”

“Whoa. Relax, ma. This is a public space.”

#earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour

[nina-ya]

Patching up Luffys Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Luffy x GN!Reader CW: Burn mentions. WC: 1098 You are peacefully seated on the deck of the Sunny, engrossed in a book, with Robin keeping you quiet company while she reads her own book. The weather is blissful, and the ocean stretches out as far as the eye could see. It is one of those serene days at sea where nothing threatens your tranquility. As you start to doze off, the gentle sway of the ship lulling you to sleep, your peaceful slumber is abruptly shattered by a deafening WHAM! The noise catapulted you back into the realm of consciousness, disoriented and perplexed. Your drowsy eyes darted around, seeking the source of the disturbance, you hear Sanji’s furious voice coming from the kitchen. Infuriated shouts, accompanied by a flurry of french obscenities, fills the air. Your curiosity leads you to the chaotic scene unfolding in the kitchen. As you step into the kitchen, a truly astonishing sight greets you. Food was scattered across every inch of the kitchen, floor to ceiling. Sanji was in a state of outrage, his culinary masterpiece reduced to an utter mess. His yelling is directed at no other than Luffy. You quickly connect the dots and realize that Luffy is the culprit behind the ruckus. The idiot tried to use his abilities to grab some food from the other side of the kitchen and had made a severe miscalculation. As a result, his hands are now decorated with painful burns.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at the spectacle in front of you. It was clear that you need to intervene to prevent further chaos. Without hesitation you push your way through to Luffy. Luffy was booth whining in pain and complaining about hunger, and you practically have to drag him to the infirmary. The journey to the infirmary is not an easy one, but you manage to get him into the infirmary and coax him to sit still for a moment.

“Luffy, what exactly happened in there?” you aak, genuine curiosity in your voice.

HIs embarrassment is evident as he replies, “I just really wanted to taste what Sanji was cooking, and he wouldn’t let me! So, I took matters into my own hands and well… yeah…” With a sigh, you inspect his injured hands, the pain evident as he whimpers out in pain. “Ah, Luffy, you really are something else, aren’t you?” you say, shaking your head with a smile. “It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble, always diving headfirst into things without a second thought.” “Of course I think! Just like I did now! Sanji said no, so i thought, ‘Hey, I’ll just do it myself!’” He flashes you a grin. An amused smile graces your lips as you carefully apply some cream to soothe his burns. “Well, for now, you can think about sitting still and letting me wrap up your hands. That way, you can go back and try again, but maybe don’t miss this time, alright?” Luffy bursts into laughter. “I won’t miss next time, and you know what? I’ll get enough to share with you too!” You blink in mild disbelief at the unexpected offer. “Did you somehow hit your head too? I know you did not just offer me some of your food.”

With a shake of his head, Luffy playfully emphasized, “Nope, everything is all fine with the noggin,” he moves to knock himself in the head with emphasis, but you intervene, preventing him from causing more harm to himself.

“I’ll believe you once Chopper checks you out,” you respond with a teasing grin.

You turn your focus to bandaging his hands, and you gently take one of them in your own. As you wrap up his hand, you can’t help but notice the battle-worn scars that adorned his hands, like mementos of his countless adventures. “Why are you just staring at my hand?” Luffy asks suddenly, his grin from earlier still in place.

You finish up the first hand and start to wrap the other when you respond. “I was just looking…” you pause your bandaging to point out a particular mark on his hand. “Hey, do you remember how you got this scar?”

Luffys’ gaze follows your finger, and a wide, nostalgic grin spreads across his face. “Yeah! We were sparring and you were showing me this cool trick with a sword and you managed to land a hit right there. I say we should spar again.” His stomach rumbles, and he laughs. “After I get some food of course!”

You smile at the memory that the scar brings as you continue to wrap up Luffys’ hand. Out of the blue, his voice breaks the silence as his attention shifts to your hands. “Your hands are small,” his voice is soft and pensive. His gaze is locked on your hands and he seems to be captivated by it, a look of curiosity in his eyes. You finish wrapping his hand, and he extends his hand to touch yours. “See? Small…” he murmurs, his fingers slowly interlocking with yours, an infectious laugh escapes his lips as his eyes meet yours.

A smile graces your lips as well. “Yeah, they’re pretty small I guess.” A brief silence falls between the two of you as your intertwined hands feel each other's warmth. You decide to break the quiet moment with a cough and comment, “So, uh, it looks like you’re good to-”

Before you can complete your sentence, Luffy springs up from his seat and starts sprinting toward the kitchen, your hand held securely in his grip. He shows no intention of letting go soon. You can’t even get another word in before he declares, “Perfect! I’m gonna go get my food, and you’re coming with me, and I’ll be sure to get enough to share with you!”

Share? This is the second time he has mentioned sharing; does he mean it? His unrelenting grip around your hand only adds to your questions. Why is he not letting go? Why does he insist on holding my hand like this?

In the midst of being dragged to the kitchen, hand in hand with Luffy, you can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you. These simple actions speak more than any words can say. You can’t deny your growing affection for the Captain through his story of unspoken feelings. As you venture towards the kitchen, you start to realize that this is just one page of the storyline you and Luffy share. Perhaps this is the beginning of a whole new chapter, and you are absolutely elated to see where this leads to.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader

[morallyinept]

Pedro Boys - Dom, Sub or Switch? 🤔

Another day, another Pedro Boys ramble.

☝🏻I'll mark this NSFW 🔞 as it gets a bit spicy with the boys dirty talking...

I apologise now for my terrible Spanglish. And the length of this ramble. 🫠 Sorrynotsorry.

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel Miller - Sub

Okay. Keep your green flannel shirt on and hear me out. Joel's out here saving your clumsy ass on the fucking daily. Watching your back, making sure you don't eat the poisonous berries n' shit out a Buick later. Nuh darlin'. They ain't good for ya. But twenty year-old canned Chef Boyardee? Now we're talkin'. He's ensuring you don't get munched on by walking Goombas. Get the fuck down! Stay quiet! I mean, this greying geezer is the epitome of dom swagger, right? The Protector? It's the broad shoulders and creaky knees that make your days old, yeasty panties (because let's face it, the apocalypse ain't pretty, babe) moist as hell for that surly old man. But, what if Joel exudes so much energy keeping you alive and not being fungi-bait, that when it comes down to getting jiggy wid' it after what feels like an exhausting monotonous lifetime, he just wants you to take the reins so he doesn't have to think about it? Hmm?? Yeah? Naaaah. Fuck that. Joel Miller is a motherfucking dom who will always fuck your shit up, dick you the hell down, and leave you a quivering, soaked mess, no matter how bad them knees get traisping and wheezing up five thousand flights of stairs at the ripe ol' age of 56. Give him a few minutes to recuperate and then he'll be on you like hornets on a sticky toffee. Ain't gon' suck itself, darlin'. Open. Good girl. Eyes on me. Take it deep. More… like that. Yeah. So good for me, ain't ya? Can ya breathe? Then ya ain't doin' it right. Did I say stop? Put it back in your fuckin' mouth. 

Joel Miller - Sub ☝🏻DOM 

Francisco Morales - Switch 

Frankie loves to pull the ol' switcheroo on ya, hermosa. The man is rabid, foaming feral one minute, yanking you about as he pounds you from behind with your wrists held together at the base of your back. Take my fucking cock. Yeah that's it… Cum all over this cock. Go on. Fuuuck! And then the next he's on his knees pleading for you to just touch his leaking dick as he makes a mess all over the polished hardwood floor, whining and pouting like a little boy who just dropped his ice-cream. Please, baby. Touch it. I-I need you. Fuck. Please let me have it. Por favor hermosa, lo necesito tanto! Please! PLEASE! 

The cap stays on either way. 

Ezra - Switch

Although a switch, Ezra will tend to lean more towards submissiveness. Mostly because he loves nothing more than watching you take the initiative, Birdie. Enamoured by strong heroine-types with fluttery eyes, who can expertly handle his thrower, this rambling man is soon silenced to mush when you put your finger to his lips and push him down on the dirty bunk straddling him and sliding down that thick, oozy appendage. But when Ezra goes dom, he goes dark. You think you know pleasure, that you know the scaffold of pain? Oh, little bird. Your knowledge lacks bounty. But in this moment right here? I'm afraid for both of our sakes, I must riposte. Dark and depraved, oh Kevva you won't believe the levels of depravity this Southern outlaw will stoop to when he goes prospecting deep in your pussy. 

Dieter Bravo - Sub 

Dieter is a sub, mostly through lazy convenience; a side effect from all the dope. The man simply doesn't have the energy to peel himself from his bed, the floor, the tea party on the ceiling, to whip out the cuffs and chains for kinky shenanigans. He'll make you do all the work as he tops from the bottom lying back on the pillow, a fat blunt on the go and telling you exactly what he likes and feels through red, droopy eyes. Lick my balls, baby. Ohh-hoo, like that. Mmmmyeeeaah. Fuck, I'm so excited... No, really I am. No, I'm not falling asleep... I swear.

*Imminent snoring and drooling.*

Agent Whiskey - Dom 

This cowboy dandy has an accoutrement of lassos and whips, do you really think Jack is a sub? C'mon now, sugar, you know better than that. Jack's favourite rope trick is tying you up and watching you squirm against him as he brushes that fuzzy caterpillar against your ear and whispers all the filthy, un-gentlemanly things that this denim clad lonestar is going to do to you. Christ, you look so fuckin' good all tied up n' helpless like this. You listening good, sunshine? Cuz ol' Jack's gonna make this a rodeo you won't forget any time soon. Hoo mama! Now then, you remember your colours, sugar? Good. You might be needing em'. I'll make sure of that. I promise.

Manners maketh the man, afterall. 

Javier Peña - Dom 

Pleasure dom Javier is all about the, uh, pleasure. This crafty agent doesn't need any whips, chains or paddles, ohhh no. He takes his sweet, sweet time in annihilating you, breaking your back from all that damn arching you'll do. Drawing out every fibre of your orgasms into his waiting, moustached-mouth, then'll continue to stimulate you further, even when it's too much to bear that you hiss like a rattlesnake at him. But he's relentless. He's smothering. This Loredo lothario's smirking at you through a smoke filled pout as you writhe and moan for more of this sassy man-slut with the resting bitch face and tight ass jeans. Always wanting more, cariño. Qué codicioso, cariño. Me dices que quieres que pare, pero ambos sabemos que quieres más… 

No, that's not Javier instructing you how to parallel park. That would be: Ahora, ponga la marcha atrás y gire la rueda hasta bloquearla. Ahí lo tienes, tranquilo. Cuidado con la acera. ¡Míralo! - Either way, it still sounds sexy AF, right? And that hijo de puta knows it.

Oberyn Martell - Switch 

Purveyor and indulger of endless sumptuous delights, it makes sense for Oberyn to be a switch because that man likes to have all the fruit and nuts he can cram into his eager mouth. And the man likes his nuts. He exudes gentle dominance with subtle dance-like movements; fingers pushing against your clavicle, eyes roaming over your sweat sheened body, and teeth pulling at your flesh as he tastes the honey you pour freely into his mouth. Oberyn can own you with a simple crook of his lips. The sub side of him is slack, cool and relaxed as you climb on top, conquering that mountain, and pin his wrists above his head as he eyes you back with subtle, yet proud, mirth. Tell me, does this seat make you feel powerful over your Prince, hmm? Good. Worship me. I promise to do the same in return when you've had your fill of me, sweet one. But be cautious, for we will do it my way. And I will hold nothing back as I fuck my bastards into you. 

Marcus Pike - Sub 

Mr Pike just wants to please. He's a people pleaser. A yes man. An avid pleaser in the bedroom too. Please, Mistress. Can I have some more? All the pleases with whistles and bells on. Despite being an FBI agent and catching the bad guys, there isn't a mean, dominant bone in this gentle man's body. He's a sickly-sweet sweetie pie. He loves you, getting hard on your happiness, and will do anything for you. And I mean a-ny-thang. You want to put that in my… in my a-ass? Okay, I'll try it. Go slow, please… oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yeah! Yes Mistress. Damn that feels soooo good! Oh please, more. I want more. Don't stop. Mmmm! I'm so close already! Can I please cum, Mistress? 

See? Told you. Anything. 

Dave York - Dom 

Like you're surprised. This man's name should have been Dom-as-fuck York, am I right? And you just know that Dave is a darkest-always-before-the-dawn dom. Sleek and pre-ordained. Cool and collected as he presses the duct tape down over your lips and checks the cuffs are tightly cutting into your wrists. Dave's inner sadist delights in your discomfort, revels in your pain, babe. Loves to see the water bead in your eyes; your mascara tears making his cock harder still. He grips you by the chin as your muffled breaths hiss out from under the tape. Look at me when I fuck you. You're such a little whore for me, hmm? Parading yourself in front of my wife. Well, now you know what happens when you act like a slut. Don't you? You won't be making that mistake again, will you? If you do, you know what'll happen. And I won't be this gentle next time. No. Next time I'll make you bleed. Don't you even fucking dare think about cumming right now. Sluts don't get to cum. You're just a hole for me to use, baby. Whenever I want...

Dave's the dark, twisted asshole of your masochist candyland dreams. You still keep going back for more though, despite his threats. I mean, you would, wouldn't you?

Pero Tovar - Sub 

As much as Pero likes to convince himself that he's a man in charge, can take on a sly task and see it through without ending up in the stocks, that misguided front soon crumbles as soon as you present either food or your pussy at him. If you offer both at the same time, there is a very good chance you'll see his brain sluice out of his ears and plop in flumpy mounds around his feet. Pero won't be able to articulate anything to you in comprehensible language amidst the jangled bear growls that'll collide against his teeth. Girl, you just gon' fucked up that Spainard. Now, feed the hungry bear before he mauls you. Rawr.

Din Djarin - Dom 

The metal man cometh. Or, at least he'll be making you, especially around that thick, hard Mandalorian helmet of his. And we ain't talking Beskar steel, if you catch my drift… This Space Daddy Dom knows exactly how to make you fly, Mesh'la. He's had years of practice trawling the galaxy and endless amounts of alone time whilst The Kid is tucked away in his pod, to hone his edging skills so that he lasts, keeping you on his cock for hours and hours until you lose your damn mind and all you see is nebulonic stars. Din doesn't say much, just lets the sounds of his grunts echo through the modulator into your rattled senses. When he eventually cums after having his fill of you, he only utters one groaned word in abject satisfaction: Wizard. 

Marcus Moreno - Switch 

Naturally there are two sides to Marcus Moreno - Super daddy hero by day, super daddy hero by night. Or both, it doesn't really matter the time. And this also extends into the world of bedroom pleasures as Marcus loves to be the good guy pleasing you and watching with doe eyes as you take what you want; what he'll so eagerly give you through soft hummed smooches and gentle, deep thrusts as you sit in his lap, swollen and full of him. But behind that heroic demeanour lies a villain in wait; itching to get out and play very, very dirty. He'll flip you forward onto your knees and leaning over you as he drives his hard, thick point home, will whisper into your ear you're mine. This pussy is mine. Say it. Tell me whose pussy this is, huh? That's it. That's right. All mine. You fucking know it, baby. Stop squirming, I'm going to fuck my pussy good and hard and you're going to take all of it. Scream for me, baby. I wanna hear you scream my name. 

Max Phillips - Sub 

Don't be fooled by this vampire's bite. The fuckboi leech is subdued by mere fucking sunlight for Christ's sake. So it's safe to say the moment you whip out your tits, cold and frosty Max Phillips will melt into a puddle of warm, bloody goop at your feet. Yes Sir! Max likes to act tough, to intimidate, to pop his fangs out and feast whenever he likes, but when it comes to your pussy, Max Phillips is, what is it the kids used to say? Ah yes, pwned. Max likes to think he'll bend you over and fuck you on his desk, but it'll be the other way round, trust me, sugartits. You gonna give it to me? Right here? Fuck yes, I want it! Bend over? Oh, okay. Oh, fuck yes… bite me, baby. Yeah. Yeah! Oh you're doing it like a champ! Harder baby, oh fuck yeah!

What a pussy little bloodsucker. 

Silva - Sub 

There's nothing I can say about Silva other than this handsome cowboy is utterly and irrevocably submissive for his lover. Gentle, slow and pained. Determined, unwavering and sincere in his devotion for the D, Silva's travelled miles across the sweltering country, being constantly chafed by his saddle, just to get some hunk o' lovin'. If that's not the definition of primal submission - or just plain idiocy, that chafe man, s'gotta be a mean one - then I don't know what is. Silva doesn't talk, he just whines, moans and falls apart from every pore as you top that peachy, pert bottom of his, before you pull out and cum all over it. Mmm, peaches n' cream. 🍑

Comandante Veracruz - Switch 

Leaning more towards his dominant side, Veracruz pendulums his way into both territories freely, such is the will of a true Guerilla soldier. Of course, he loves nothing more than to wield control through menacing threats and shiny blades pressed against your throat, or thigh. Choking you as he pummels into you and foaming at the lips, licking the sweat from your face and whispering filthy things about your tight, drenched cunt and how it squeezes him so. He's loud. All his men can hear it around the jungle as he grunts and snarls and snorts whilst claiming you. Veracruz confidently wears the dom title like the grenades hanging from his tac vest; a pair of big balls swinging in the breeze. But watch that beast of a man squeak like a timid field mouse when you slide a finger into his tight, puckered hole - which if he were waterboarded, he would vehemently deny he enioys - and lose his shit as he nuts all over himself, only for him to beg that you do it again as you milk the Comandante of all of his aggression. More, querida. ¡Más adentro! No pares… Fuck! You're liking this, aren't you? Mmm. Just you wait… fuck… I'm going to fuck you up after - Shit! I mean it, cariño. Going to fuck your pretty ass like you're fucking mine right now. I will fucking destory that ass! Ohhhh… fuuuuuuck. You're so fucking dead, baby. Mmmm.

Maxwell Lord - Sub 

Most people who are dominant in their day job are usually submissive in the bedroom, and Maxwell is no different. Shifting the power dynamic, Maxwell wants to forget the stress of trying to take over the world and falls to his knees as you stroke through those golden honey locks making him shudder. He's a whimpering, quivering mess as the word mommy slips from his lusty lips. Apt that he has mommy issues; men whose mothers love them don't try to annihilate the global population. So, mommy dearest just has to ensure that her good boy Maxwell behaves and flies straight. Please, Mommy. I'll be good for you. Please… Let me have it. Please. Yes. I'm your good boy.  Thank you, oh thank you, Mommy. So good. Oh, I'm such a good boy! Mmm…

Javi Gutierrez - Subby AF 

Silly old bear Javi G is the subbiest of the subs who have ever subbed. And that's saying something. Look up the words subby little baby in the dictionary and Javi's doofy grinning face is next to it. With those puppy dog eyes, and the fact he would literally jump off a cliff for you, Javi G gets so excited the minute you click your fingers and direct him to your playroom, that he's already cum in his tight, striped speedos on the journey there - twice. Eager for whatever creative punishment you wish to dole out, Javi always wants more until he's on his back sweaty, sore and strung out like he's on LSD. And let's face it, he probably is. That pussy is divine inspiration. Please, I want to experience it all. Will you give it to me and hold nothing back, yes? Yes!... Like that! Oh, dios mio, it's going to be so fucking gooood! Oh shit. Shiiiit! I just came. I know, we haven't started it yet. It's okay, we go again. Yes?

🖤

#jett's pedro boys #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #dieter bravo #ezra prospect #francisco catfish morales #marcus pike #marcus moreno #oberyn martell #silva strange way of life #maxwell lord #max phillips #din djarin #the mandalorian #pero tovar #dave york #javier gutierrez #javier peña #comandante veracruz #agent whiskey #jett has spoken #pedro boy rambles #dom sub or switch #that is the question

[spectres-n-soap]

To Live is to Love. To Grieve is to Love - Soap x You x Ghost

Content Warnings - afab reader, fem reader, depression symptoms, angst as always with some bittersweet comfort at the end. MW3 spoilers and MW3 is canon

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Simon keeps looking at you, he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a word, only looked at him with empty eyes. Simon knows you hate hospitals, you fidget and are ridged the entire time. “Hopefully we’ll be out by tonight.” Simon says, trying to spark a conversation. Hell, he’d take you screaming at him again instead of this. 

You shrug and put a hand over your stomach. It's the only movement you’ve been doing. Constantly checking on the baby, watching with a hawks gaze whenever the ultrasound machine wheels in. “They’re looking healthy.” The nurse declares. Simon stares at the ultrasound, the heartbeat of the baby regular and healthy is the only sound that fills the room. Simon takes in the image, the baby is sucking their thumb and he can see their feet. 

He pulls the nurse to the side and asks for a few pictures from the ultrasound. She smiles and nods, “Sure Dad.” His breath catches in his throat at the name. He tries not to think about you holding a baby with your hair and his eyes.

The doctor comes in later with a few pages of paperwork to release you from the hospital into his care. You stare at the dotted line and he waits, his stomach twisting itself into knots until you blink and write your name down. The doctor goes over a few rules that need to be followed but his eyes aren’t on the doctor, they’re on you. Watching for any hint of your spitfire personality when the doctor says that you shouldn’t be bending over or do much of anything due to the position of the baby. You nod and Simon hands you an outfit he had grabbed from your apartment.

Simon helps you into his truck and the drive is silent. Suffocatingly silent. He never minded silence until now, you didn’t turn on the radio and just looked out the window. “Are you hungry?” He asks and nearly slams his head into his steering wheel when you shrug. 

The flat is a mess. The door had been replaced; one of the things he had time to do while you slept in the hospital. The sage green and soft yellow decorations still littered the flat, the bags of gifts still on and surrounding the table. You walk through the flat and into your room, softly shutting it behind you. Simon lets out a sigh when he doesn’t hear it lock. He stands in the dim flat as his mind fills with worries.

Simon’s gaze flickers to your bedroom door, she’s hurting, check on her, let her have some space, what if it happens again, he’s standing in front of the door now. He doesn’t remember taking the long strides to get to this point. His hand hovers over the doorknob for just a second before turning on his heel and plopping his ass down on the couch, burying his head in his hands.

“Do ye think ye wid ever settle down?” Soap asked, his voice echoing in the one room safehouse. Ghost stayed quiet and hoped that Soap would just wear himself out with all his talkin’. Normally, Ghost didn’t mind Soap’s conversation but laying on the floor in the bum fuck of no where with a minimum of two days until someone can extract them; he’d rather rip his ears off. “I’d lik' tae one day, have a guidwife 'n' a bairn. Hell, as many as ah kin carry at once. What about you?”

“Never.” Ghost’s answer was short and gruff as he stared up at the tin ceiling. He wasn’t lying, never saw that kind of life for himself even before Roba. He was an uncle, he was happy with that. Ghost was happy with that life but that life was gone now.

“Never? Well if ah ever settle doon 'n' git that life, I’ll just force ye tae come wi' me. Can’t be a soldier forever.” Soap teased.

“Go to sleep sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

Rain patters against the windows of the quiet flat. Simon finds himself standing in front of your bedroom door again. Truthfully, he hadn’t slept a wink and just languished in his memories. You should have done more. You could have saved him. Should have just let Johnny shoot that fucker. Simon slowly turns the knob and opens the door. You’re laying uncovered on your bed, soft snores leaving your mouth as you hold your pregnancy pillow close. Simon sinks down to his knees and brushes a few stray hairs from your face. His nerves settle if only just. You shift in your sleep, eyes blinking open with the haze of sleep clouding your mind.

“Simon?” You mutter, reaching a hand out for him. He glances between your face and your outstretched hand. A small whine escapes your throat and Simon holds your hand, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles while a pleased hum comes from you.

“I’m right here.” Simon mutters as your eyelids flutter closed. “I’ll be right here for as long as you need me.” He sits down on the floor and leans his head against the mattress.

In the morning he’s woken by your movement. “Why are you here?” You ask, voice thick with disuse.

“You wanted me here.” Simon replies, stretching his long limbs from spending the night on the floor. You glare at him but there's something missing. Probably actual anger or annoyance. “Are you hungry?”

Silence takes over the room before you sigh, “Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“Johnny?”

“Yeah lass?”

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, holding him close to your naked form. “Be careful.”

Soap smiled down at you as he pushed some hair from your face before he brought you up to kiss him. “I wid ne'er even dream o' goin away. I’ll be back again 'n' again.”  You make a noise of protest when he tries to pull away.

“I don’t think you’ve kissed me enough.” You mumbled against his lips with a fake pout.

“Guess I’ll just hae tae keep kissin’ ye. How terrible.” His chest rumbled with laughter before he brought you in for another longer kiss. His hands grip your hips and bring you close. “I'll kiss ye everyday if you’ll let me.”

“Even when you’re away?”

“Just keep an eye oot fur mah kisses in th' wind.”

tag list - @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @snoopyee

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap #call of duty #cod #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x you #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #soap x reader #soap mw3 #ghost mw3 #soap x you #soap x y/n #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw3

[powerfultenderness]

Death's Angel

Pairing: König (stalker/serial killer)/Fem!Reader

Rated: Explicit. 18+

Summary: "Please just let me go! I promise I won't tell! I have a wife! I have a child!" He's heard all the pleas before, but König is finally struck with the oddest dying wish he's ever heard. "Can you kiss me?"

Word Count: 22,480

Warnings:  Rape/Non-Con: Sexual assault, I do NOT go into detail on that part, but uh, it's there. Dub-Con/Consensual non-consent: (+mentions of rape/cnc porn). CNC as a coping mechanism, which (in this case) is dubious as it is not discussed beforehand. + Blood play, knife play, degradation. (Non-consensual) voyeurism (König is a stalker). Violence (König is a serial killer). Fluff (lol it's actually pretty sweet)

A/N: Based on [an ask] I got a couple of months ago. 4 parts in 1. [Read on AO3] for chapter divisions.

[Multi-fandom Masterlist]

[Death’s Kiss]

He cursed himself for getting distracted. But, as much as the military would like to believe he isn't, he is only human. And a particularly buxom woman overtly flirting with him had drawn his eyes from his target. He rejected the woman's advances (maybe he will find her later, there was nothing quite like fucking after killing), and went about searching for his target. Unfortunately he had to be discreet, he couldn't just push people out of his way, as much as he would love to.

He caught sight of a back exit and followed his instincts, they hardly ever led him astray, and took the chance that his target had left this way. He’d only taken a few steps into the dark alley when he heard sounds of a struggle. ‘What’s this?’ He followed the sound of a frustrated groan quickly followed by a “fuckin’ bitch!” and a woman’s scream cut short. 

König stuck to the shadows, plenty around this late, and slipped his sniper hood on as he rounded a dumpster. There was his target, a man in his thirties, with one hand over a woman’s mouth and the other holding a knife he just shoved into the woman’s stomach. 

Interesting. König couldn’t exactly say what drew him to kill certain targets. He just saw someone and decided. Sometimes he’d do recon, other times, like tonight, he’d just see what the night had in store for him. This was the first time he had come across one of his targets committing well, if the woman’s torn dress and the man’s hand now stuffed under her skirt were anything to go by, sexual assault and likely murder. 

König could understand murder. He might even respect it. But he could not tolerate rape. There were always one or two men in his unit he had to keep an eye on. Who were likely to take advantage of the women of a war torn country. Not only were those the easiest of his victims to cover up, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the higher ups placed them on his team on purpose. Let him deal with the troublemakers before they get out of hand. 

Why he should have contempt for one heinous act over another was also something he didn’t bother to think about. Thus he didn’t bother to think when he pulled his target off of the woman. 

-

Red. He’d forever associate this moment with red. Your eyes, which caught his for a fraction of second as he grabbed the man’s shoulder, were red, either from tears or because the man had hit you, or both. There was a bright red ribbon that matched the color of freshly spilled blood hanging loosely from your hair, spiraling elegantly down your shoulder before getting stuck to your skin with blood. Blood, dark red and spilling freely in some places, already clotting in others, almost looked fake. Too…pretty. Most beguiling of all, were splashes of red across your lovely white dress, from the top, which was now ripped free of your body, to the flared skirt.  

Red had always been his favorite color. 

The man was quick enough on his feet to regain his balance and pull out of König’s grasp, if only for a moment, as he reeled and threw a wild punch at König.

König caught the first easily, smiling under his mask, as the man’s eyes went wide as he realized how much bigger König was. “F-fuck!” 

He tried to yank his fist back, which König let go of as he hooked one boot behind the man’s foot. He chuckled as the man flailed and fell on his ass with an undignified scream. Before the man could get back to his feet and run away, König planted his boot on his chest and leaned down. 

“What should I do with you, hm?” König hummed playfully while leaning down and pressing his weight onto the man’s chest even more. He had been planning on taking the man to a secondary location, an out of the way warehouse at the edge of town, so he could take his time. But even now he was aware of a second set of eyes on him.

“N-nothing! You can have her, let me go!” The man struggled against König’s boot, and struggled to breath as König pressed down again. 

“Her?” He looked over his shoulder at you, hunched against a wall with blood slowly forming a puddle around you. 

You should have been crying for help, or trying to get to your phone that he could see a few feet from you. You should have been trying to save your life. But instead you were watching him. Your eyes were glazed over as your life slowly drained away, but you were watching him. No. You were watching him kill your attacker, waiting to see what happened. And a shiver of excitement ran down his spine. He never had a witness before…

Then he looked down again, “what use is a dead woman?” 

That’s when the man screamed, using what little strength he had to try to punch König’s leg. 

“Ow.” König deadpanned, but removed his foot from the man’s chest anyways. 

He let the man scramble to his feet, but when he turned to run away, König grabbed him by the back of his head, his giant hand making a viscous grip in the man’s hair, and yanked him back. The man screamed, hands flying to the back of his head to try to pry König’s hand off of him. König lifted the man into the air before slamming him face first into the brick wall in front of them.

Not even the muffled and gurgled screams could drown out the sickening crunch of bone. While still holding the man’s face into the brick wall, he turned to look at you, looking for the familiar fear that should be in your eyes. There was none. Again, you weren’t even looking at him, not really. You were looking at the man, weakly struggling against König’s hold. 

Hm. There was no fear in your eyes. But you were alert to…something. Too close to Death, maybe? He wondered what it would take for you to react.

Without even looking back at the man, he pulled his fist back for a moment, the man gasping for air through broken teeth, and slammed him back into the wall. It was at that point that the man went limp in his hand. Your only reaction was to cough, blood spraying from your mouth and down your chin.  

‘Nothing?’

Returning his attention to the man, König pulled the back from the wall again and with his free hand grabbed the side of the man’s face. In one quick motion he pulled and snapped the man’s neck. That earned him…a cough for sure, but, was that a laugh turned to a cough? 

He dropped the man and kicked the body over, making sure that he was really dead, when he noticed you moving out of his peripheral. You had wrapped both hands over the handle of the knife protruding from your stomach.

“You’ll only bleed out faster.” He raised his voice and turned his head enough to look at you again.

You froze and looked up at him as he slowly turned from the man to you. From where he had planted himself, he took  in more of your appearance, of your wounds. Your hands, now resting weakly in your lap, were cut from a blade and scraped up from the brick wall you were pushed into and cement below you, proving that you had at least attempted to fight back before being overpowered. There was a large gash below your neck and over your collarbone that leaked blood onto your nude chest. A shame, a quick thought crossed his mind, that such a pretty pair of tits is going to die.

His eyes followed down the rivulet of blood from your chest to your waist. Oh. Cherries. What he initially mistook as blood splatter all over your pretty white dress was in fact part of the dress itself, a pattern of cute little cherries. What a vision you were, must have looked like a little angel before you met your fate. 

“Hey,” you croaked out in a heavy, wet, sigh. 

Since it seemed to take so much effort to get one word out, he did you the favor of moving closer to you. Once he was near enough to you, his eyes drifted down to the knife. He didn’t kill that man to save you. In fact, it was his intent to let you die. He could finish the job. Do it quickly too, as a mercy. 

“Can you-” You breathed out another heavy sigh, attempting to curb a cough. “-kiss me?”

König’s eyes snapped up to your face, blinking and his head tilting even more as he processed your question. Did he hear you right? “What?” 

“I want,” you paused and licked your lips that were both dry but slick in blood. “My last kiss to be my choice.” 

Ah! He blinked once more as he looked at your pathetically small body and the puddle of blood under you. You knew you were going to die. 

He never had a witness to one of his killings. He also never fulfilled someone’s dying wish. An odd night of firsts. He dropped down to one knee next to you and nodded. “Alright.” What was the harm in it?

With one gloved hand he gently tilted your chin towards him and lifted the bottom of his hood with the other. His eyes slid shut as he softly pressed his lips to yours. He meant for it to be chaste, just a small peck to honor your wish, but the metallic tang of your blood slipped into his mouth, and he liked it. The coppery blood was tinged with a hint of what he could only describe as sweet. He had never tasted blood like that. His own was acrid in comparison. He wanted more. 

He leaned down closer and pressed his lips just a bit harder against yours, agitating the cut on your lip. He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, gently sucking on the cut in your lip to draw more blood into his mouth and he had to hold back a moan. As tempted as he was to shove his tongue further, a pained whimper from you stopped him. He pulled away, licking his lips as he dropped his hood back in place.

You coughed out a muttered “thank you,” and sighed, like you were ready to accept your death. 

Too bad he hadn’t met you earlier in the night, he thought as he looked at you again. Then, and he’s not sure why he even tried, he pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut away at the top of your dress that was already hanging off of your body. “Remain calm, Engel.” 

Once he had a sufficient amount of fabric he pressed it around the knife wound. “Keep pressure here.” 

Your hands, small and weak, took over and despite the pained cry, you did as he said.

He stood up quickly and picked up your phone, or what he simply assumed was your phone. The screen was cracked but still lit up as he pressed a side button. The emergency number was just one press away from being dialed. 

He hit dial and returned to you, helping you stem the bleeding once more, and held the phone up to your mouth. “Tell them where we are. You might live if they’re fast enough.” 

You coughed out an answer to the operator, barely managing a weak “help” with a street name and the name of the club you stepped out of. 

You were unconscious by the time he saw emergency lights, but at least you were still alive. He remained with you as long as he could, daring even a few seconds too long, and slipped away before police and paramedics found you. And the body of the man who attacked you.

Even as König sat in his truck, forcing himself to relax, he knew it would be better for him if you died. 

He hoped you lived. 

[Death’s Touch] 

A week ago he met a dying angel with sweet and pretty blood. He expected the police to show up within a day or two. Even if he hadn’t shown his face to you, or done something so stupid as to give you a name, how many behemoth men with Austrian accents were there in the city? That simple description of him was the reason why he was careful there were no witnesses to his killings. That simple description was why he had considered letting you die in that alley. 

But the police never showed up. 

König frowned as he fit the last piece of the gun he had been meticulously cleaning in place. Did the police not show up because you…died? He waited too long to help you and now he’d never even get to know your name.

Of course, he didn’t know for sure that you were dead, and that had him anxious. He had to know.

A few days later, and an I.O.U to Hutch, König was able to read the police report from that night. He learned three important things. The first was that you were still alive. The second was that there was no mention of him, or even a rescuer. No description of a large man. No APB out on him. And lastly, he learned your name and address.

You lived in a modest flat, the worst thing about it was its utter lack of security. There wasn’t even a gate. It was too easy to find various watch points that looked into your flat. Or would have. You apparently weren’t in the habit of opening your curtains. Only a good thing, as far as he was concerned, who knows what kind of creeps could be watching?

For a day, he wondered if he had the right flat. He’d been watching all day and didn’t see you once. Just before his patience wore out the next day, however, food was delivered to your flat and he finally caught a glimpse of you again. 

That was it. The confirmation he needed. You were alive and for whatever reason you didn’t tell the police about him. Both good things. 

He could leave. He could forget about you now. 

…

It was two days later when you finally left your flat. Yes, he was still watching your flat, a sense of relief flooding him every time you opened the door for food. 

He followed you until you parked at a clinic. He knew there would be cameras all over the place, so he continued driving and didn’t pull into the same parking lot as you. Instead he drove to the next light, made a u-turn and parked at the drug store across the street. 

An hour and a half later he saw you leave the clinic. You were fast, one might even say you were lightly jogging. As he started his truck to follow you, he realized that you walked at that same speed when you left the flat. 

“Oh, my little angel. Are you frightened?” 

Too scared to leave the safety of your home most days, and barely leaving to see a doctor. Well, he couldn’t blame you.

A part of him was content knowing that he would be able to easily find you now. 

Just his luck, though, his leave was up and he had to ship out to a new base. Hopefully, by time he got back you would still be holed up in your little flat, safely tucked away for him.

-

By the time he was granted leave again, it had been four months since you were attacked. It didn’t take him long to find you again. Of course you were at home, and that morning he followed you to an office, then back home. A routine. Having a solid routine helped with his own anxiety, of course it would ease yours. 

The only thing that did surprise him was that from his old vantage point, and with the help of a scope, he was able to see into your bedroom now. Not a full view, but the curtains were cracked just enough. The weather had been getting better, had you opened your window at one point and weren’t so diligent with the curtains when you closed it? 

Blue light softly illuminated your room as you settled into bed that night. He could sympathize with you. He knew plenty of men who could not sleep without the aid of some kind of white noise. But as he watched you through his scope he realized that the tossing and turning he thought was keeping you awake was more intentional than not. There was no mistaking the way you were rolling your hips.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned forward in his truck, as if that could somehow get him a better view through your window. 

His dick twitched when you turned to lay flat on your stomach, your hips rocking faster against the pillow (or blanket?) that you had between your legs. He thought about you in that alley, looking all pretty so close to death, “-kiss me?” and tasting so sweet. 

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your head hanging down but still turned away from him. Not that he could really make out your figure fully, his mind was filling in what he could not see. One of his hands dropped to his crotch to adjust his pants, but didn’t touch his semi-hard dick. He liked to think he had more self control than that. Until he remembered that little whimper you let when he kissed you too hard and he needed to hear you again.

Before he could stop himself to weigh his decision, he was already out of the truck and halfway across the parking lot. He was called a human battering ram, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be stealthy, or pick a lock. In fact, he was already trying to think of a way to get you new, better, locks since it was so easy to break into your flat. 

The lights were all off and in dark clothes and his sniper hood, it was easy to blend into the shadows. The place was small, the door opened into an open concept living room to kitchen. He paid no mind to furnishing, focusing instead on the light that emanated from the bedroom. 

As he got closer to the door, left slightly ajar, the sound of heavy breathing got louder. It was a sound that sent an excited thrum through his veins as he leaned against the wall and peeked into the bedroom.

In the time it had taken for him to enter your flat, you had switched positions again. You were sitting up on your knees, back towards him (the door, rather), with a blanket pooled around you and a pillow between your thighs. You weren’t wearing anything provocative, just a large tee shirt from what he could see, but it was bunched up around your hips just reaching your bare thighs. 

He could feel his body getting hotter, his dick getting harder, but he was trained well enough to keep his breathing steady, quiet. Fuck though, what he would give to see you from the front, or below. To have you riding his cock like that, your soft hands planted firmly on his chest as you were now bracing yourself on the bed. 

You let out a gasp, such a sweet sound that went straight to his dick, and arched your back, one hand flying behind you to steady yourself while the other pulled the pillow harder against you. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring your breaths, as he imagined gripping your hip, you’d probably cry out from how rough his hands were, but you’d like it anyway. He imagined watching his cock stretching out your little pussy while his other hand played with your clit.

When he opened his eyes again, he glanced over at the laptop (the source of light that he initially mistook for a television) but it wasn’t angled right for him to see what was on the screen. It was obvious, with the way you kept your eyes on the screen, though. There was no sound that he could hear, so he figured you were wearing earbuds. What kind of porn did his little angel like to watch? Huge cock, perhaps? Did you fantasize about taking a cock as big as his? 

Underneath his hood he had to bite down on his lips to keep from groaning, especially when you started to moan as you started to bounce and grind your pussy harder onto that stupid fucking pillow. He could give you something so much better to rub your pussy on. 

One of your hands snaked under your shirt to play with your tits, your whines getting a little louder and he squeezed his fists hard. If he touched himself now, he wouldn’t stop until he came, and that was a little too risky right now. 

Just as he was about to give in and stuff his hand down his pants, you let out a muffled moan, one hand covering your mouth, even though no one was (supposed) to be around to hear you. Your hips slowed down to gentle rolls as you leaned forward, slowly stretching out and riding out your orgasm. His hips jerked forward, seeking friction against nothing, and his eyes rolled back at your moan. 

Your little whimpers still filling the air only made his cock throb painfully hard in his pants. He remained still, watching as you slowly got up and moved to the other side of the room. Judging by the light suddenly flooding the room for a second only to fade when he heard a door close, he assumed it was the bathroom. He sighed, leaning against the wall, and took a deep breath, hoping to catch your scent. 

He quickly left while you were cleaning up, and took extra care to make sure your door was locked. 

As soon as he made it back to his truck, he tore off his gloves, shucked his pants down just enough to pull his dick out and spit in his hand. He leaned back, eyes closed as he recalled what he had just seen with vivid detail. 

"Mmm, fuck. Engel." He mumbled under his breath as his hand pumped fast strokes up and down his cock. 

He could still see you humping your pillow, still hear the symphony of your moans filling the air. He squeezed harder, rolled his hand over the tip of his cock and spread the ample precum down the shaft. He was so close already. His hips bucked up as he fucked his fist, picturing you bouncing on his cock. He groaned, your name slipping out of his mouth, even though you had yet to formally introduce yourself to him. 

His whole body tensed, his breath coming out in desperate ragged pants, as he stroked himself faster. A litany of curses, in both English and German, filled the cabin as he came. He continued to stroke himself slowly, with a loose grip, as he eased himself down, just as had. He even imagined himself burying his nose in the crook of your neck, or resting his forehead on your shoulder, making you whimper from lazy and sloppy kisses.

He finally opened his eyes, a spark of sadness in his heart as he saw nothing but the roof of his truck instead of the vision that was you. He sighed and reached the hand that wasn't covered in his own cum around the passenger seat to grab a few napkins he'd thrown there earlier. 

Once he cleaned up, as well as he could, he returned home. He just needed a few hours of sleep. He knew your schedule, he'd return later.

-

He arrived back at your flat after you should have left for work. He scanned the car lot to make sure your car was gone (it was) and made sure the coast was clear to break into your flat again (it was). This time he did take a moment to take in the space. Everything was meticulously clean, spotless, not even dust in high up places. He wondered if you were like this before the attack, or if this was a result of self isolation. 

Then he moved over to the bedroom. Just like the living room, everything was nicely in order and the bed was perfectly made. Excited warmth spread through him when he saw two pillows sitting on your bed. He slipped his hood off, hooking it in his waistband, and dropped onto the bed. He took a deep breath and nuzzled his face into one of the pillows. An incredibly intoxicating mix of perfume and detergent and you filled his senses and he hummed in delight. 

One hand reached up and gripped the other pillow, feeling the softness, about to bring it to his chest when he paused. He spotted your laptop on the nightstand and sat up. He picked it up, a tube of cherry chapstick rolling to the other side of the nightstand, and opened it up. He watched the screen as it loaded. 

No password? Well, he supposed that made sense considering you lived alone. 

Now, he tapped away, what had you so worked up last night? 

His eyebrows shot up, eyes a little wide, as he made his way through your browser history. “Oh, Engel.” He felt himself getting excited as saw various types of CNC and rape porn. “You still think about that night.” Honestly, he did too. 

Before he got too turned on, he made sure to clear the history and set the laptop back where he found it. Then he got up and straightened out the bed. 

If that was what you wanted, he would be happy to help fulfill your fantasies.

-

It had been four months since your attack. Everyone around you had been sympathetic at first. It was a bit overwhelming, having people you barely talked to go out of their way to make sure you weren’t feeling unsafe. It only took two months for them to move on. It was a blessing in that you felt like you finally had space to breathe, but now people were unpredictable, unwanted casual touches or getting too close to you, and it had you retreating back to your cubicle every time. 

When you declined invitations to go out, people would joke that you were being boring. Maybe it was time you moved on too?

The next time you were invited out, you agreed, on the condition that you didn’t have to go home to change. 

“Yay! That’s fine! Trust me, it’ll be fun!” Your friend and coworker said as she slapped hand on your shoulder.

You winced and moved out of her touch with the excuse of needing to get back to your desk. The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful and you soon found yourself at a new bar.

Thirty minutes in, once the appetizers were gone and the alcohol flowing freely, your work friends got to be a little much. You didn't want to drink, you were assured that no one would be getting drunk. That was wrong, of course, and you silently wondered if you were invited just to be designated driver and get everyone home safely. You were not going to do that.

It was easy to slip away unnoticed. You just needed some space and so headed towards the back where the bathrooms were. 

For a Friday night it felt oddly empty. Maybe because it was out of the way, maybe because it looked like an employee only area. Whatever the case, you’re thankful for-

You didn’t even have to catch your breath before you were suddenly pushed into a wall, a large hand clasp around your mouth preventing you from screaming. Fear and panic shot through your body as memories of the night you were attacked surfaced, fueling your struggle. Not again, not here, not with so many people around. 

Both of your hands pulled at the hand on your mouth and you finally looked up only to freeze. Even the panic in you seized up, unsure whether or not you were being threatened. Piercing blue eyes stared at you from underneath a black hood. The bleach stained tear streaks are a frightening illusion of humanity that you’re not certain is even there. 

“You!” Well, at least that what you tried to say, his hand still muffled your voice.

This man, the man who saved you that night, held you up against the wall, your toes barely scraping the floor, with one hand covering your mouth. It was almost the exact same position your attacker held you in right before he stabbed you. Part of you wanted to panic still, had your heart racing and breathing quickly. But another part of you was just…confused. He wasn’t doing anything else but holding you. If he had wanted to kill you, among other things, he could have done it back in that alley. Instead he saved you. He killed the man who attacked you. He helped you call an ambulance. He stopped you from bleeding out. You didn’t even say a word about him to the police. So why would he want to hurt you now?

You tried to calm your breathing as you stared up into his eyes. Cold blue locked you into place, but the danger in his eyes wasn't malice. It was something else entirely. 

Finally he lifted his hand from your mouth, you drawing in a gasp of air, and set you fully back on your feet. His free hand remained firmly planted on the wall beside your head, keeping you in place flush between him and the wall. Then he gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb, landing where a now healed cut once split your lip. Your heart raced, heat blooming across your face, as you remembered his kiss. That kind of intensity in a kiss, in any other situation, would have been erotic. Really, you had been on the verge of death and it was still probably the best kiss you'd had in years. 

You whimpered at his touch. He had been so rough even though he thought you were going to die and now the pressure of his thumb on your lip sent an arousing wave of fear through you. 

He leered down at you, eyes starting to dilate, "tell me to stop." 

With your heart hammering in your chest, it took a moment for you to register his words. What? 

You opened your mouth, no words forming, and his thumb slipped past your lips and grazed your teeth. You whined, which only seemed to spur him on, and he pushed against your jaw even more, forcing your mouth wider. “Speak up, Engel.” 

He was so close to you, his knee slid between your legs, rubbing against your core and pushing you higher against the wall again. You let out a shuddering gasp, your hands flying from him in an attempt to stabilize yourself against the wall, but you made no move, made no demand, to stop him. He rocked his knee up, grinding slowly and gently into your pussy, drawing a quiet moan from you. Your pussy clenched when he put pressure on your clit and you bit down on his thumb, hot tongue brushing against the invading digit. 

König grinned, though you could not see it, and chuckled. He leaned even closer to you, hood pooling over your shoulder and growled in your ear. “Fucking slut.” 

This time your gasp was cut short as he slapped a hand across your mouth again. He lifted you with ease, tucked you against his body and dragged you out of the bar through the back door, not one person seeing the quick departure. 

You struggled against him, hands flying to the one over your mouth and you clawed at him, you kicked your feet but he was so big and tall that he easily held you above the ground. He wanted to chuckle. You reminded him of a feral kitten caught by animal control. Just as cute, or cuter, even.

He didn’t drop you until he reached the side of the bar. There was a gate separating the dingy little alley and the parking lot, decorative trees planted near the gate. It was unlocked, he made sure it was before he approached you, but it still would still provide the illusion that you were trapped.  

You grunted when your feet hit the ground, stumbling forward into the brick wall. You tried to duck around the man, but he easily swung you back in front of him, pushing you against the wall, though he cushioned the back of your head with one large hand.

You looked up at him as you drew in panicked, quick breaths. Just like before, he leered down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. You bit your lip, his eyes flicking down to watch as your teeth worried at your bottom lip. “Wh-what do you want?”

His eyes looked back up and slowly he lifted a knife you hadn't even seen him grab to your throat. You stilled and tipped your head back, attempting to get the blade away from your delicate skin. There was a scar on your neck that you usually kept covered up, but like this, it was exposed to him.

He traced the scar with the tip of his knife, “what do you want, Engel?”

You swallowed thickly, holding as still as possible so he didn't slice through your skin. And you didn't answer him.

He huffed, “do you want me to stop?” The knife dragged down the scar to the collar of your shirt. “That's all you have to say, my dear.”

As much as you tried to control your breathing, your chest was heaving, drawing his eyes down to it for a moment before he looked up again. That hood made it difficult to read him, but his eyes were so expressive. You knew what he wanted. The heat in his eyes matched the nearly overwhelming heat his large body gave off. The same heat you could feel swelling in your body. You swallowed again, your mouth refusing to answer his question.

“No?” The knife slipped underneath your collar and he tugged, slicing through the fabric. 

It was so similar yet different to the sound of fabric being torn apart and ripped off of your body. It was cleaner, sharper and the definite but soft scratch of the tip of the blade on your heated skin sent your pulse wild. He hummed as he cut open your shirt, revealing the plain bra underneath.  

You hadn't even realized just how hard you were breathing, how much your chest heaved with every breath, until his blade bounced on the swell of your breast and he sucked his teeth. “Stay still.” He growled out, eyes flicking up to your eyes and away from your exposed chest.

You bit back a high pitched gasp, holding your breath as he dragged the blade across your chest, until he reached the left bra strap.

You shivered as you heard the soft ping of the knife slicing through the strap. He once again looked up from your chest to your eyes, his own narrowing in disapproval. “Perhaps you want to be hurt, hm?”

You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, attempting to hold your breath again to remain as still as possible. He slowly moved the tip of the knife across your chest again, this time angling it so more of the edge touched your skin. Another ping and you flinched as the other strap of your bra was cut.

He was silent for only a moment, the flat of the blade resting near the middle of your chest, just by your left breast, every beat of your heart making it jump ever so slightly. You could hear his heavy breaths, almost feel them against your face, even through that terrifying hood. For a moment, in that silence, you thought you were safe. That he was done.

Until he quickly shoved his free hand up the back of your shirt and unhooked your bra clasp. You squealed, eyes flying open, and jumped as he ripped what remained of your bra off of you. You only caught a glimpse of his eyes, blown wild with lust, before he spun you around and pushed you face first into the brick wall.

Your hands, which had been covering your chest in an attempt to save your dignity, were now bracing you against the wall so you didn't smash your face into it. You shivered again, remembering how he killed your attacker months ago, by shoving him so hard against a brick wall that he lost consciousness.

The hand holding the knife came to rest to the right side of your face against the wall. The metal gave an unnerving scrape against the brick that caused another shiver to run down your spine. His left hand snaked around to grope your left breast. His large hand, hot and rough, cupped your soft flesh with ease.

“Such pretty tits,” he hummed as he pinched your nipple, drawing another distressed squeak from you as your nipples hardened under his touch.

Your eyes were screwed shut once again and you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. You pressed your body as close to the wall as you could, but that only made him close in on you more, his crotch now firmly resting on your ass. He moved his hand to grope your other breast and bucked his hips forward with a deep grunt, the hard bulge of his cock rubbing against your ass. You bit back a whimper as your pussy clenched around nothing, arousal starting to pool in your panties.

His hand traveled down, grabbing what was left of your shirt and tearing it, leaving it hanging open on your shoulders. Your body welcomed the sudden partial nudity. The air was hot and thick and it felt like a cool relief to be free of even the light cotton. He pressed his hand against your stomach, pulling you against him even more, and for a moment he froze.

All the roughness in his touch disappeared as his fingers gently traced the nasty scar on your stomach. You whined, not from desperate arousal but shame. After what happened to you, you should be trying harder to fight this. You shouldn't want this, no matter how deep down it was, or how hard you tried to deny it. You dropped your head against the wall, resting your forehead against one hand as you waited for him to finish his assault.

König growled at your reaction to the scar on your stomach. You had looked up at him with growing lust, as tentative as that was, when he traced the scar on your neck with his knife. But the scar on your stomach, evidence of how close your brush with death had been, had paralyzed you. You were too quiet for him to enjoy this. He wanted to hear you cry and whimper, wanted to feel you rocking your body against his as you had been only a moment ago. Most of all, he didn't didn't want you to fear him.

He steadied you with his left hand, his hand heavy on your bare shoulder, and used his right to rip the rest of the tattered shirt off of you. You gasped and cried, and not in the way he wanted to hear, as you stood facing the wall with both arms crossed over your chest and your eyes squeezed shut. Then he removed the simple field jacket he was wearing and draped it over your shoulders.

You froze again as you were suddenly enveloped in warmth and spun around to face your savior/attacker. He roughly pulled the jacket closed, deft fingers fastening the button that fell just over your belly button. You were still somewhat exposed to him, but the scar on your stomach was now once again hidden underneath a layer of clothing.

Your mind barely registered the glint of his knife before it was pressed to your neck once more. He dug the point of the blade into the scar, not enough to puncture, but enough to draw your attention back up to his face.

His eyes were narrowed, furrowed brows peeking beneath the crudely cut eye holes of his mask. If you could see the rest of his face, he would probably be scowling at you.

As much as you wanted to grip the jacket closed, you kept your arms stiff at your sides. One wrong move could open up the scar on your neck again. 

He leaned down, his face inching closer to yours, his blade biting just a little bit more. "Say it." His voice is half a whisper, half a frustrated growl. 

Your lips part, tongue darting out to lick them, but you remained quiet, afraid to give him the wrong answer to his riddle. 

He growled again and pushed you harder against the wall. "Say it!" He practically screamed, and his knife finally pierced your skin, drawing just the slightest bit of blood. 

You flinched, as fear and pain laced adrenaline rushed through your veins, to your core, your clit throbbing as the knife stung your skin. Unconsciously, you steadied yourself by bracing your hands on his sturdy chest. His eyes flickered down at the movement, at the way you were clutching to him and squeezing your thighs together and he grinned under his mask. Oh you were scared of him alright, and you wanted it.  “Filthy fucking whore.” 

Your gasp, perhaps a protest of his words, if you even understood them, is strangled as you find yourself facing the wall again, his thick jacket protecting your hands and arms from the rough brick. 

His right hand holds his knife against the left side of your neck, still pressed against the old scar as his left is shoved down your pants. You whine and gasp and squirm as he circles your clit with two fingers. He groans behind you and his hips jerk forward, the motion causing the blade to cut your skin some more, a thin trail of blood starting to stain your skin. 

You cry, biting your lip and dropping your head against the wall, at the mixed sensations, the stinging pain blending with the pure pleasure of his fingers slipping up and down, around, your clit.

He groaned as his fingers slipped further down and spread your slick around your pussy. You squeezed your thighs around his hand and he pants in your ear before shoving a knee between your thighs, preventing you from closing them. 

His knee between your legs pushes you up against the wall and your toes barely find purchase on the ground. “You want this, ja?” He says as he starts to rock your hips against his thigh as his hand continues to play with your pussy. 

His fingers, hot and thick, slip into you as his palm rubs your clit. “Ja.” He grunts as he sinks a second finger into you, slowly pumping them.  His fingers pick up their pace and you moan when he inserts another digit. He curls his fingers just right as he pumps them, drawing out whines that you try to quiet. You hide your face in your hands, finding odd comfort in the warm scent that lingers on his coat, and choke back a moan as your hips are rocked against his thigh faster.

He pulls his fingers out, soaked in your juices, and goes back to focusing on your clit. “Of course you want this,” he half chuckles and half pants as finally removes his hand from your pussy, strings of cum sticking to your exposed skin as he nudges your chin with the knife so your head leans back against his chest. 

He held his hand up, spreading his fingers to show you your own arousal. "You wouldn't be this fucking wet if you didn't want this." 

You tried to turn your head away, so you didn't have to look at those lust clouded eyes in soft darkness, but he tuts and shoves two cum covered fingers into your mouth. He hummed as he watched you gag on his fingers, at least he relented enough that you were no longer deepthroating his fingers. “Wouldn’t be fucking my thigh like a desperate whore if you didn’t want this.” 

You froze, as if just realizing that with one of his hands still holding a knife to your throat and the other stuffing your mouth with his fingers, the eager grinding of your hips on his thigh was entirely you. He laughed and rocked his knee up into your aching pussy, “don’t stop now.”

The drag of his knee puts perfect pressure on your clit and you whine around his fingers as your pussy clenches around nothing. “Keep. Moving.” He growled in your ear as he glides the knife down the old scar down your neck to just above your collarbone, a thin line of blood beading against your skin. It stings and your cries are smothered by his fingers and he rocks his knee up again and you slide against his thigh just right that the pain becomes pleasure. 

He moans with you as you start to grind down in his leg again, back and forth and you even do your best to bounce while your feet barely touch the ground. His hips start to move with you, his hard cock on your ass adding fuel to the fire that burns within you. 

He’s grunting now, everytime you bounce against his dick, and he drops his hand from your mouth and starts to grope your tits again, making your shudder as he squeezes, his grip is bruising but your clit still throbs, your pussy still flutters with every touch of his rough hands.

The knife finally drops from your neck and he holds it against your waist then leans down, the mask he is wearing falling over your shoulder and you feel his breath on your bare skin.

“You belong to me now, Engel.” 

You gasp and shiver as he mumbles darkly into your neck, head lolling back so you can look at him, but all you see is the black of his mask. His grip on you tightens, the handle of the knife pushing into your hip painfully, his hand fondling your breasts roughly, his thigh pushing up against your pussy pleasurably. 

His tongue, hot and big, laps at your shoulder in a smothered kiss before he bites down, his sharp teeth catching the edge of the cut on your neck and that’s enough to push you into orgasm. You pussy wildly, almost painfully, clenching as you cum against his leg. 

He hums, strangely gentle, and slowly rocks you back and forth on his leg, letting your orgasm fade until your wanton moans are no more than the occasional whimper. 

You stumble forward into the wall when he drops his knee. Your clit is still throbbing as you pull the jacket closer to you and hide your face in your hands. You’re mostly just trying to catch your breath and calm down, but somewhere in the back of your mind you still feel shame at the way your cum gushes down your thighs, soaking into your pants. 

You barely register the shuffling behind you until you feel his hands on you again. You flinch, expecting him to be rough, but his touch is gentle as he rubs your arms. “You did good.” He mumbles his compliment into your hair. “Let’s go.” 

You can’t exactly say no to him, as he easily swoops you up off of your feet and carries you through the rickety gate to the bar parking lot. You absently note how easy it was for him to push the gate open, but do not let your thoughts linger on it once he unlocks a truck and sets you down in the passenger seat. 

He’s kind enough to adjust the jacket to cover your chest entirely before he buckles you up. His hips brush against your leg and you break out of the dazed reverie when you feel how hard his cock still is. 

 “Where are you taking me?” 

The man, your…savior (you feel hesitant to label him as your attacker, even after what just happened), slips off the hood before he looks up at you. His hair is disheveled and matted down with sweat and even in the faint street lighting you can see a few scars scattered around his clean shaven face. His eyes, icy cold blue, the only part of him you could see before, shine with something…soft? Unexpected, certainly. 

“Home.” He answers and drops the hood in your lap before shutting the door and walking around to the driver side. 

You hold the mask up in your hands as he starts the engine. The bleached tear stains and empty eye holes stare up at you suggesting danger and pain and death, and safety.

-

When he said home, he apparently meant his home. You felt silly for thinking he knew where you lived. The place he pulls up to is nice. Much nicer than you expected for a man so dangerous, more importantly you supposed, it’s spacious. There was some good distance between his house and the last house you saw and that has your pulse speeding up as he opens the door for you.

He doesn’t even wait for you to move, for you to second guess everything, before unbuckles you and carries you inside. You want to insist that you can walk on your own, but you are sticky with cum and dried blood and honestly, he’s so warm.

When he mumbles something about cleaning up you just nod and let him place you in a shower. You only react when he strips down and steps into the shower with you. 

It could have been a sensual shower, it was certainly big enough and as you catch a glimpse of how big his dick is when it is soft, your clit twitches at the memory of it hard and rutting against your ass. But he is quick to wash himself, and though he spends more time washing your body (or maybe he was just taking his time to feel you up), it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. 

You want to tell him there isn’t really a point in applying that ointment he is gently spreading along the scar on your neck. It’s already healed to an ugly scar.  But he is so gentle as he bandages the fresh cut and rubs you dry with a soft towel as you sit on his very large bed. 

“What’s your name?” 

Would it have been better or worse to ask for his name before he fingered you in some dirty back alley?

“König.” He doesn’t give more than that.

“König.” You repeat and he looks up at you from where he is kneeling on the floor in front of you. “Thank you. For killing that man.” 

He hummed as he continued to pat your thighs dry with the oversized towel that was wrapped around you. “You didn’t tell the police about me.” 

It’s not a question. Somehow he knows that you didn’t tell the police, so you just shrug. “I told them I don’t remember what happened after I got stabbed.” 

His hands stop moving and rest on the outsides of your thighs, playing with the hem of the towel. “But you do remember?” 

You nod. “Everything.” 

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence between you, his fingers start tapping against your thighs and he shifts his weight. The towel that he has wrapped around his waist threatens to fall loose and he uses the excuse to secure it as an opportunity to break his gaze with you.

“What you said back there, that I belong to you now. What does that mean?” 

This time he meets your eyes, “what it sounds like.” 

“...Does that mean you’ll protect me?” 

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.” And he drops a small kiss to your knee, letting his lips linger on your skin.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek to push him away from your legs. “Can you be gentle?” König moves his face just enough to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Yes.” 

Whether he takes your question as a suggestion, or he simply decided that it was time to move onto other activities, he leans down again and places another kiss to your knee, gently spreading your legs and moving his mouth to your inner thigh. As he moves his mouth to splay a kiss on your other thigh, one of his large hands comes up to remove the towel on you body, brushing against your covered breast for just a moment before he tugs on the towel. 

You don’t let the towel drop completely, holding it tight to your chest, and he pauses his sweet kisses.

“Look at me,” he demands, stretching up and leaning against the bed, one knee between yours as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. His grip is firm but not painful, not even close to how tightly he had grabbed you earlier in the night. 

Your eyes jump from one scar to another before settling on his steely eyes. “Good. Now,” he leans in closer, lips hovering over yours, “trust me.” 

His kiss starts off gentle before his tongue finds that spot on your bottom lip where it was once split, he nibbles and sighs as if he can still taste the blood that was once there. Your lips part when you feel his teeth and his tongue glides against yours. It’s slow and gentle and has you melting into his touch, dropping the towel that hides your scars from him. He wastes no time in tossing it off the bed, his lips never leaving yours even as he slides his hands over your waist to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

You let out a little squeak at the sudden movement and he grins as he pulls away from the kiss, breathing against your lips. “Remember. Trust me.” 

You can only nod as he moves his mouth down your neck, placing soft quick kisses over the fresh bandages before he moves to the other side of your neck. His kisses on the juncture of your neck become sloppy, his tongue lapping at your skin like it is covered in something sweet. He bites down hard, teeth sinking into your soft flesh, turning your quiet little pants into a gasping moan. 

“You belong to me now.” He repeats his claim between gentle soothing kisses on the fresh bite mark he just made. 

You nod, accepting your fate, as you grip onto his shoulders. He hums and trails his mouth down your body, gently kissing the bruises that started to bloom on your breasts from how hard he groped you before. Your soft whimper, born of pleasure and pain, makes his cock twitch underneath his towel and he shucks that off too. 

He lays you down on your back and swirls his tongue around a nipple, enjoying the way you arch into his mouth. “Look at me.” He reminds you when he sees that you have closed your eyes.

When you look at him again he grins and playfully bites your nipple, laughing at the little squeak you let out before. Your giggles turn into a soft sigh as he moves to your other breast. His touch has you sinking into a cloud of lust. You want to throw your head back, close your eyes, and surrender to him, but you remember his order and keep your eyes on him.

You go tense when he trails his kisses down to your stomach. His eyes shoot up at you, making sure you are still watching him, as he traces the horrid scar with his lips and tongue. Eventually, with the help of his big warm hands running soothing touches up and down your body, you stop squirming uncomfortably. You’re still squirming, but for entirely different reasons. König notices and with a grin he pushes himself up, pulling you up with him and placing one of your hands on his stomach.

Admittedly, your touch and mind is drawn to the hard muscle, padded with a healthy layer of fat, flexes under your hand. You want to touch the rest of him, explore the rest of him. It is only after a second that you realize what you are touching. A scar. Raised skin in a jagged pattern, like someone attempted to twist the knife that stabbed him. You gently trace the scar as if you are afraid to agitate it. 

He senses your hesitation and laughs as he presses your palm against it even harder. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Engel.” Then he reaches out to touch the scar on your stomach, smaller and cleaner, but fresher and still tender if pressed too hard. 

You look down at his hand on your scar and yours on his. They’re almost in the same place. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to your lips and rests his forehead against yours. “I should be dead. You should be dead.” This was simply proof that were meant for him, he was certain of that. 

Who needs matching tattoos when you have matching scars?

“König,” you breathe out, though you are not sure what you want to say to him. Instead, when his eyes meet yours, you kiss him. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and pull yourself as close to him as possible. 

He moans into the kiss and, tender moment over, pushes you fully against the bed again. He slides down your body again, stopping only momentarily to place a soft kiss on your stomach before he dives between your thighs. 

You don’t even have time to act shy before he’s spreading your legs and swiping his tongue through the folds of your pussy. He’s quick to circle his tongue around your clit, drawing out a soft moan between panting breaths, as your hips move up to meet his mouth. He groans, the subtle vibrations adding extra stimulation, and practically nuzzles your pussy, nose bumping against your clit as he sinks his tongue into your quivering hole. No matter what you do, hands pulling at his hair tightly or thighs clenching around his head, it only earns more moans from him. He laps at your pussy, your juices mixing with his spit and drags his tongue back up to your throbbing clit. 

He locks one hand onto your hip but the other travels up your body to your breasts. True to his word, he is gentle with them this time. No bruising grip sending you teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain. Instead he rolls your nipple, pinching just soft enough that it hardens under his touch. He moves his hand and repeats the action with your other breast, reveling in every little whine and gasp he pulls out of you. All the while he continues to eat your pussy like it’s his last meal.

He has you so needy and aching that it’s euphoric when he slips two fingers into you at once. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, reluctant to let him go but the slide of him pumping into you again makes you gush. One of your hands claws at his hair, gripping his locks to keep you grounded, but the other holds onto his hand that had been playing with your tits. Unable to properly play with your tits now, he laces his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he pulls and orgasm out of you,

Unlike the first time he made you cum, you don’t try to hold back your moans, you don’t hide your face from him, though at some point as he ate you out, you had thrown your head back and closed your eyes from how good it felt. He’d just have to forgive you for that.

König rests his check against one of your thighs as he watches you come down from your orgasm. 

It’s not until he gently squeezes his hand that is still holding yours that you look down at him. Somehow the sight of him between your thighs, face glistening with your cum, makes you blush even harder than you already were. 

“Ready for more, Engel?” 

You blink at him. “More?”

He chuckles and pushes himself up, first dropping a heated kiss onto your lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth and letting you taste yourself. As much as he could spend all night kissing you, right now he had another pressing need to take care of. He sat up on his knees, pushing your thighs further apart to accommodate him, and stroked his painfully hard cock.

Oh!

Your eyes are drawn to him and widen. You knew he was big. You’d seen him soft and felt it against your ass, but seeing it standing at full erection was another thing entirely. It’s easily the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, not even your favorite porn stars can hope to compete. 

You sit up and reach out to touch him, replacing his hand with your own and you swallow thickly. You wrap your fingers around the shaft, your pussy clenching when you see that your fingers don’t even meet. Still, you give gentle strokes, eyes glazing over at how much of his veiny cock you can still see around your fist. He’s already leaking copious amounts of precum, that you collect on your fingers to slick up your next stroke. You lean down and circle your tongue around the head, a shiver running down your spine when he moans wantonly as you wrap your lips around the head. 

You moan as you stretch your mouth around his cock and imagine what it would feel like stretching your pussy out. You let out a little gasp for air when you come back up, going from sucking to licking his cock, just so you can reach the base of it. König moans again and buries a hand in your hair. For a moment you think he’s going to force your mouth onto him again, but instead he pulls you up for another passionate kiss. 

“Another time. I need to fuck you.” He pants against your mouth when he pulls away.

You whimper and nod and throw yourself back onto the pillows, eager to accept the challenge of his massive cock. You drop one hand to your clit, rocking your fingers against the sensitive button. 

König produces a bottle of lube from the nightside and slicks himself up. In the future, he can take the time to make you cum enough times to take his dick naturally. But he is eager to feel you now. Besides, you look just as eager as he feels, as you watch him stroke himself. 

He nudges your hand away from your clit and replaces it with his own, rubbing lube along your pussy and drawing excited pants from you. He dips a finger in you, feeling your pussy clench around his finger and grins. “Engel?” 

You nod, “please, König!”

He slid the head of his cock through your folds, your pussy throbbing as the slick head rubbed against your clit. You whined at not being filled but the way his heavy cock bounced on your clit already had you desperately begging. 

He managed a strained chuckle, holding himself back from immediately fucking you was one of the hardest things he’s ever done, and pushed the tip of his dick against your entrance. He used his right hand to hold your hips, and used his left hand to rub languid circles around your clit. 

You choked back a garbled moan as you felt him begin to stretch you out.  Your chest heaved as you rocked your hips up, encouraging him to keep going. You were whimpering, writhing against the bed grasping at his shoulders as he sunk deeper into you. He was so fucking big and barely got the tip of his dick inside of you before you pussy began to frantically pulsate around him. He groaned and forced himself to stay still, for both of your sakes. You looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears and drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, and he almost lost it. He promised he’d be gentle though, at least this time.

He grabbed the bottle of lube again and squeezed some more out on his dick before thrusting forward again. Your pussy clenched around him, squeezing him desperately, as he slowly filled you. Though the size of his cock stretched you beyond anything you’d ever felt before, though it teetered to just the wrong side of pain, you couldn’t get enough of it. Especially with the way his thumb kept playing with your clit. You cried his name and tried to grind your hips up. 

He slowly dragged his cock out, moaning at the sight of your pussy clinging to him, and started another agonizingly slow push. 

“König,” you started with a breathy whine, “faster. Please.” 

He dropped down to one elbow and nuzzled his nose against the side of your face, missing your lips as he tried to kiss you and simply licking at your jaw. He muttered your name hotly in your ear, your pussy quivering at the sound of his strained voice. 

He snapped his hips forward, burying his cock deep in you and started frantic, rapid, strokes. You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, he was so big and heavy and hard that your world was reduced to the pleasure he brought with every stroke of his amazing cock. 

He promised to be gentle, he knew he shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t help but clamp his teeth down on your uninjured shoulder, muffling his own obscene moans as your pussy spasmed around him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his thrust became erratic, chasing an orgasm, as blood filled his mouth. Your blood was still so sweet, divine, enough to send him over the edge. His hips stilled as he cock twitched inside of you, spilling inside of you. 

You moaned, or screamed, when he bit you, leaving a second mark on you, and the string of his bite brought with it white hot pleasure. Hot cum filled you, your pussy convulsing rapidly, milking him and refusing to let go. 

He pulled out with a long groan, the two of you overstimulated and your pussy was still clenching around him, and collapsed to the side of you. He draped an arm around you and held you close to him, muttering something about angels in German that you didn’t have the faculties to translate at that moment. 

He was the first to recover, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning over to lick and kiss the fresh bite mark on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You gave a breathless laugh and lazily pulled his face up to kiss you. “Don’t worry, I liked it.” As if the mind blowing orgasm that followed the bite wasn’t a big enough hint.

“Now, can you let go of me?” 

“No.” 

Your laugh was sharper this time, and it brought a grin to his face. “Let go, I have to pee!” 

He sighed dramatically and grabbed your hand, bringing to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Come back to me?”

Even as you pulled your hand out of his, you could feel the smile that graced his lips upon hearing you giggle. But at least he finally let you go. 

Your post orgasmic high wore off while you were cleaning up and your mind, having been clouded by lust since he grabbed you at the bar, was able to think straight.

You walked back to the room, feeling shy at your lack of clothing, and saw that he had changed the top blanket on the bed. The other soaked in cum, apparently. 

He looked up and smiled, bright and energetic despite how tired he was. “Engel, you came back!” He joked as he rushed over and pulled you into a hug. 

You kept still, but with his arms wrapped around you, you could do little else. He picked you up, much as he had done back at the bar, and set you down in the bed before he curled up next to you and pulled the covers over both of you.

“König?” 

He hummed as he nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating combined scents.

“...I never told you my name.” 

[Death’s Promise]

“...I never told you my name.” 

König doesn’t answer you, only tightens his hold around you. It’s only when you try to shift, to put just enough distance between you that you can turn around and face him, that he speaks. His voice deceptively calm, if the way his arms tighten around you again is anything to go by. “I already told you, you belong to me now.”

You frown. That was no answer to how he knew your name. Or, now that you thought about it, how he knew that you didn’t tell the police about him. 

“It. It wasn’t a coincidence that you were at that bar tonight, was it?” You try not to stutter.

He doesn’t answer, instead starts to press his lips into the hickey on your shoulder. A reminder of his claim. 

“How long have you been following me?” 

His lips continue to move from your shoulder to your neck, stopping to nibble at your pulse point. You can feel the grin on his lips when your pulse speeds up.

Whatever he is making you feel, you repeat the question. “How long have you been following me?” 

“Go to sleep, Engel.” 

“At least tell me why.” 

“To make sure no one else touches you.” 

Well, it’s not like you wanted anyone to touch you anyway. And his touch isn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite, really.

You should stop this. Get away from him. You knew he was dangerous, you saw it first hand, and who knows how long he’d been following you. Maybe since that very night you were attacked.

And yet, “...No one?” “No one.” 

That actually sounded kind of nice…

-

Work sucked. Mostly because of one person and the fact that you felt like you could do nothing about it. All you could do was race out at the end of the day and get home as quickly as possible. 

Home…It took all of a week for König to move you from your flat (he said it wasn’t safe at your old place and you weren’t going to question what he meant by that) into his house. Was it a rushed relationship? Sure. Was it a questionable, leaning towards dangerous, decision on your part? Absolutely. Did you regret it? Not at all. 

You let your frustrations out on a bunch of vegetables, your knife chopping through them and onto the cutting board with increasing force. You didn’t even realize how hard you were chopping until a large hand stopped your own before it hit the board again. You froze, König’s other arm wrapping around your waist as he leaned down to rest his chin on your head. 

“Careful, Engel. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” 

“Oh! König! I didn’t even hear you come in!” You crane your neck back so he could place a soft kiss to your lips. He does so with a pleased hum. 

His face is bare, a sight you quickly came to love. He leaves the simple mask he usually wears hanging in the entranceway. (His sniper hood he only dons when he’s deployed or when he’s “hunting”). 

“How could you with all that noise you were making? What did that poor carrot do to you?” 

You let out a sheepish chuckle, “sorry. Just thinking about work stuff.” 

You picked up one of the carrot rounds and held it up by your shoulder, where he leaned down and nibbled it out of your hand. 

“What about work?” 

You resumed your chopping, much less forceful. “Ugh. Nothing really. Just this guy keeps bothering me.” 

He tensed behind you, his grip on your waist getting tighter, not uncomfortably so, just more protective, as he growled out his question. “Has he touched you?” 

“No! Well, not like that…” The shoulder squeezes and lingering pats on the back were unwelcome, but, as your supervisor said, meant nothing more than that the guy was being friendly. “It’s really annoying to have to pick up his slack, especially after all of his little inappropriate comments.” 

König nodded as he listened to your rant, but all he heard was some man had dared to put his hands on you, even if you didn’t think it was sexual, and said something inappropriate to you. “Want me to kill him?” 

“Yes!” You giggle at the joke.

“Ok.” 

You freeze and turn around to face him. “Wait. I’m kidding.”

He smiles and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ok.” 

“No,” you press your lips in a straight line. “I’m serious. You can’t kill him.” 

The way he tilts his head is far too cute for someone as large as he is casually discussing murder. “Why not?”

It had been a while since he killed anyone. Why shouldn’t he kill someone you hated? Two birds, one stone.

“Because he works with me!”

“Not for long.” 

You laugh and gently push him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Once in the living room, you make him sit down on the couch, having to resort to pulling him down for a kiss to get him to settle. His hands naturally fall to your hips as you straddle him, clutching at the fabric of the simple cotton dress you had changed into after work. 

“Now, you listen to me,” you start with a firm poke to his chest, only to stop when you realize you were still holding the kitchen knife in your hand. Oops. Knowing him, though, he probably liked you threatening him with it. You twisted around in his lap just enough to drop the knife onto the coffee table in front of the couch and return your attention to him. “As much as I want you to kill the bastard, you can’t.” 

He furrows his brows, and is practically pouting as he asks his question again. “Why?”

“Because, everyone knows I have a problem with him.”

“And he still works there?” 

You had to bite back a laugh. He had a point. You were not the first to draw unwanted attention from the guy. Why complaints from more than one woman didn’t lead to any disciplinary action was questionable. Still, you ignore his question and continue.

“When the cops find him dead, or missing, I’ll be a suspect.” 

König chuckles as he moves his hands gently up and down your sides, moving your dress higher up your thighs with each pass of his hands. “You? Little one?” 

This time you do laugh a little. “Let me finish!”

Schooling his face, he nods. “Ok, tell me how you will be suspected of murder.”

“Not me!” You answer with a faux exasperated sigh. “They’ll look at me and realize I have a hard time even hurting a fly. But one look at you,” you start to drag your hands on either of his forearms, fingers dancing along his veiny muscles. “My giant, strong, military trained boyfriend and they’ll get suspicious.”

His smile has dropped, either from your prediction, or the way your hands continue to tantalize him and move up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

“Even if they don’t find proof, they’ll at least surveille you for a bit. Do you really want the police looking into you?” 

For a moment he is quiet, no joking, even his grip on your hips is still. He can’t pretend that what you said is entirely unsound. No matter how careful he was to leave no trace behind, the personal connection to you would always be suspect. 

“So,” you lean in close to him, your lips hovering close to his. “You’re not going to kill him, right?” 

He averts his eyes and doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to lie to you, and your reason, while sound, isn’t enough to deter him. 

“König,” your voice is stern and you grab his chin and force him to look at you. 

“This man has touched you.” 

You want to roll your eyes. You want to pretend like he’s playfully overreacting. Certainly a couple of lingering pats does not warrant murder, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about König, at least when it comes to you, is that he’s intense. He is one hundred percent planning on killing your coworker just because he touched your shoulder. 

Your hands slide down his shoulders to rest on his chest, just above his heart where you clench at his shirt. “Promise me you won’t kill him.” When he still doesn’t answer you frown and press your forehead onto his. “I need you, König. I need you to stay with me.” Your voice wavers a little as you lock your eyes with his. “I need you to protect me.” 

“Fine, my love.” He finally sighs and captures your lips in a gentle kiss; he can’t stand to see you looking so sad because of something he might do. “I will not kill him.” 

“Good.” You nod and smile at him, and your smile is so brilliant that it is enough to sate his bloodlust. 

You lean forward again to kiss him, with all intentions to pull away and go back to making dinner. But his grip on your hips tightens and he holds you close and deepens the kiss. 

He smiles against your lips as you giggle when he doesn’t let you pull away. 

“I am curious.” You start, voice dropping like it wasn’t just the two of you in the house.

He hums against your lips then starts to drag his kisses down your jaw to your neck, grinning as your next words come out a little breathless. 

“If you were going to kill him, how would you do it?”

He actually stops and looks up at you, wondering if this was some kind of test.

You smile and give him a small peck on the lips. “Just hypothetically speaking, of course.” 

König licks his lips nervously, only relaxing when you take his right hand in both of yours and start to idly play with his fingers. 

“He touched you,” he starts and pauses again. You nod and give a little hum to encourage him to keep going. 

“I’d start with his hands.” 

You shift your eyes up to meet his before looking back down at his hand. You nod and turn his hand over, palm down in one of your hands as your free hand gently traces the veins on his hand. His fingers twitch underneath your touch and you sweetly smile at him, “keep going.” 

“I’d crush one of his hands beneath my boot.” 

You place his hand on the top of your thigh as you nod once again. You let out a quiet excited breath as he squeezes your thigh, his large hands hot against your skin. 

“Just one hand?” You ask coquettishly as you drag his hand down to the inside of your thigh.

He hums again, eyes locked between your thighs, at his hand slipping underneath your skirt. 

“I’d take my time with his other hand.” His knuckles brush your clothed mound, putting the lightest pressure on your clit. “Break his fingers one at a time.” 

You bite your lip and lock your eyes with his as you roll your hips forward, turning his touch on your clit from feather light to firm. 

His eyes darken, blood thrumming with excitement, and he can hardly tell what has him excited more, watching you squirm against his hand or sharing the kind of thoughts he long ago learned to keep to himself. The fact that he was sharing these thoughts with you, feeling your arousal dampen your panties, makes his heart beat wildly. 

He shifts his hand, turning it so that his thumb can start to rub small circles around your clit while his fingers dip into the edge of your panties. The back of his fingers slide against pussy, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You jolt and let out a small gasp at his touch, grasping at his shoulders to keep you upright so you can keep your eyes on him. 

He continued to tease your pussy, reveling in every little reaction from you, until you were a wet whimpering mess on his lap. “Then I’d smash his face in, for thinking he was worthy of even looking at you,” you moaned as he slipped a finger into you, “of breathing the same air as you.” He slowly started to slide his finger out, a smirk on his face as you rocked your hips forward.

“Maybe knock his teeth out for daring to talk to you.” He slid in a second finger, breathing a little faster as you moaned and fell forward further into him. You kissed him, tongue lapping at his lips before finding his own, as he pumped his fingers faster.

His free hand moved roughly from your hip to your breast, squeezing hard enough to draw desperate whimpers from you. He groaned and shifted to sit more comfortably, mouth dropping from your lips to your jaw, and pulled the top of your dress down. His lips capture your breast, tongue circling around the nipple, while his hand continues to knead and squeeze your other breast.  

Your head falls back and you gasp when he inserts a third finger, using his palm to rub your clit. He takes the opportunity to leave a surprisingly gentle kiss on the edge of the scar that peaks above your neckline. You shiver, despite how hot your body feels, as he pulls you closer to the edge. Your hips rock against his hand, your breath coming out in a combination of desperate pants and whines, every stroke of his fingers winding you up.

“But I will kill him with my hands around his neck, so I can watch him regret ever looking at you, as the life fades from his eyes.” 

Your whole body shakes as you cry out and fall forward, holding onto him with all your strength, as your pussy convulses wildly around his fingers, coating his hand in cum. 

König stilled as he watched you come down from your orgasm, panting and making cute little whimpers as he withdrew his hand. You were...glowing. It could have been the single ray of light coming in from a crack in the curtains illuminating your half naked body. Or the light sheen of sweat coating your skin that he was tempted to lick off you. But, he knew it was something else.

You had just come on his fingers as he described how he wanted to kill someone. You were truly an angel. A fucked up little angel sent to him by the god of death. If the military wasn't going to reward his skills, at least the universe had.

You shivered again and giggled into his shoulder before looking up at him with a smile. You hummed, squeezing your thighs together momentarily before sitting up and fixing your dress. You grabbed the discarded kitchen knife from the coffee table and planted a sweet and chaste kiss on his lips, as if he hadn't just finger fucked you to orgasm. "I need to finish making dinner."

He knew the moment he laid eyes on you, covered in blood and all, that he wanted you. He had no idea that he didn’t just want you, he needed you. 

He needed you. And he was just sitting there with a painfully hard boner while you walked back to the kitchen, legs shaky and making you lean on the walls and counter. He let you have a moment to calm down before bending you over the counter, ripping your soaked panties off of you and wildly fucking you. 

-

Not deployed and not “busy”, König's world revolved around you (and if his last deployment was anything to go by, you were his center regardless). He insisted on driving you to and from work. It was all great until you mentioned you would be working late one night. 

He went stiff and barely managed to get through his question without shaking in anger. “Will Christopher be working late with you?” 

You sighed, already dreading the late night dealing with your annoying coworker. “Yea, he's on my team.” Then you grinned, “maybe he'll see you when you drop me off and think twice before approaching me!”

König chuckled and leaned down to kiss you before slipping his face mask on. Honestly, he hoped that wasn't the case. He wanted an excuse to kill the man. 

That morning, of course, Christopher was late and didn't witness your incredibly large boyfriend help you down from his truck (not that you needed it, but he was ever the gentleman) as he dropped you off. 

You did your best to avoid Chris, but as the night dragged on, he became more persistent. 

“Someone’s a pretty little liar.” 

You sighed. You were already packing up, getting ready to leave, and he had to come and bother you one more time. “What?”

“I talked to Deb, and she said you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

Deb, the office gossip. 

“She doesn’t know everything about me.” 

Your phone buzzed just as you picked it up, a part of you was worried it was your supervisor, but one glance at the screen and you smiled. “And that’s him. He’s here to pick me up.” 

“I was just heading out, I’ll walk with you.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder and squeezed as he smirked at you. 

You stepped out of his hold and hurried to the door, confused when you didn’t see König’s truck waiting out front. Oh no. 

Your phone buzzed again, König telling you that he was in the far parking lot. 

“Well, where is he?” 

“Parked back there.” You gestured with your hand, from that distance even the truck looked small.

“What he can’t come get you? Maybe I should walk with you, talk to the guy.” 

You rolled your eyes and sidestepped his hand again. Whatever happened next was Chris’ own damn fault for being so fucking predictable.

Disabling the security cameras in the parking lot was easy. König sat in his truck, the temporarily distressed engine running idle, knee bouncing and fingers tapping the steering wheel excitedly. 

You hadn’t told him much about this Christopher, but from what you did, it was pretty much a given that he’d follow you through the parking lot. And lo and behold, König saw you and a man walking towards the truck. Every so often you’d take a side step and whenever König saw the man make the same step, closing the distance between the two of you again, his pulse just beat faster. 

Finally when you’re close enough, he jumped out of the truck and rushed to the passenger side. The sight of him even had you tense for a moment. Sure he was big, and the black tee shirt he wore did nothing to hide how muscular he was. But it was the sniper hood covering his face that made you pause. 

“What the fuck?” The man next to you muttered under his breath as you walked up to König.

König was fast to reach out and pull you to his side. 

At least he leans down to let you peck his cheek, though you got his chin instead, as a greeting. 

“Get in the truck. And don’t look.” 

You frown and pinch the edge of his mask. You’d only ever seen him wear it once. “I told you-”

“I know.” 

To Christopher’s credit, he was smart enough to try to get away as quickly and quietly as possible. König wasn’t having it though, and all it took was one giant step from him and he clapped his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

“Not so fast, hm?”

A shiver ran up your spine as you stood next to the truck. That cadence in König’s voice…

Chris tried to wiggle out of König’s hold, but his struggle only made König grip down harder. 

“You touched her-”

“N-no! I didn’t! She lied!” 

König’s eyes narrowed and Chris tried to stutter out another denial but was thrown into the asphalt face first, with a pathetic cry.

As Chris was trying to push himself up, König grabbed him by the back of his shirt and turned him around, pinning him on the ground.

Chris, a man who was in considerably good shape, still thought he had a chance to get away. He struggled, attempting to punch König in the ribs to get him to let go, but König chuckled. He then punched Chris directly in the face, a delightful burst of happy adrenaline running through his veins as he felt and heard the other man’s nose break underneath his hand.

Chris screamed, blood filling his mouth,  and rolled away from König, well, as much as he was allowed to. König stood back up, though remained hovering over Chris, who was doubled over in pain. After a few minutes, in which he shakily turned around and looked up, he managed to gasp out another plea. “Ok! Ok! I’ll leave her alone!”

“Good!” König beamed, his head tilted just slightly as he looked down at the other man. “But that is not enough.”

“W-what!” 

König grabbed a fistful of Chris’ hair and easily hauled him up and dragged him to the front of the still running truck. 

“I promised her no one would ever touch her again. What kind of man would I be if I let you get away with touching her?” Through Chris’ screams, he shoved Chris’ face onto the hood of his truck, the engine still running hot and burning the man’s face. 

As satisfying as it was to watch Chris get his ass handed to him so easily, things had already escalated too far. “König! That’s enough!” You shouted over the engine, over Chris’ fading cries and over König’s jovial laughter.

König froze and looked up at you, standing some feet away from the two men, and let Chris slump to the ground. “I told you to get in the truck.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you walked over to him, being careful to step around your barely conscious coworker. You looked up at him, his eyes were still wild, and his chest was starting to heave with how excited he’d become. If he had excess energy, you knew just what he could do with it instead.

You slid a hand up his chest to grip his collar, the fabric of his mask pooling around your wrist. He let you pull him down to your level and with your free hand, you lifted the mask just enough to kiss him. 

He moaned into the kiss, turning it heated rather quickly, his big hands on your ass and hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

It was only a pained weak cough from Christopher that stopped you. You pulled away from the kiss, his hood falling back over his face, and grinned at him. 

“I think you should get in the truck now.” You say with a seductive smile and a gleam in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

He nodded and instead of setting you on the ground, walked around to the passenger side of the truck, kicking Chris one last time for good measure, before gently setting you inside the truck and rushing over to the other side.

You’re careful not to hit the gear shift when he slides into the driver side and you slide up to him, lifting his mask to the bridge of his nose so you can kiss him again. His hands grab at you, pulling you as close as he could in the cramped space. One of your hands clutches at his shirt, landing on his firm chest and the other rests on his thigh. 

He breaks the kiss just for a moment, his breath starting to come out in a pant, and reaches up to grasp at the edge of his mask, but your hand quickly grabs his wrist and stops him, “leave it on.”

“O-oh?” He stutters as you palm his growing erection through his pants. 

“I like it,” you say as you lean forward and drop a kiss to his shoulder, then another below that, following the hem of the mask until you reach just below his collarbone. Your hand that sits on his chest has moved to his pectoral, where you give his nipple a little pinch, sending a shiver down his spine right to his dick. 

“Hah,” he breathes out half a laugh as you start to unbuckle his belt, “you like it?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Your hand drops from his chest so you can unbutton his pants.

He swallows hard when you take his heavy cock out and with a firm grip you wrap a soft hand around it, as much as you could, anyway. “It’s. It’s supposed to be scary.” 

“Oh, it is.” You look up at him, hand lazily stroking upwards, “that’s what I like about it.” 

He lets out a quiet groan when your thumb swipes across the underside of the head of his fat cock. Whatever other protest about his sniper hood he had is forgotten when you slide down the bench so you can put your mouth on him.  

He’s hard in your hands before you even lean down and his thick veiny cock throbs as you slowly part your lips. His left hand has an intense grip on the door, but his right hand flies into your hair, though he shakes a little as he tries to keep it gentle, so he can have a clear view of you. 

You start with small, feather light, licks to his swollen cockhead, one, two, and he’s already let out a soft whine and starts to nudge his hips forward, his cock following your tongue as it retreats back in your mouth. You smile and hum, giving in and swirling your tongue around the tip before pinching your lips just over the head of his cock, adding light suction as you do so.

“Please,” he whines, fingers starting to tighten around your hair. “Please, don’t tease me.” The way he has slipped back into his native language, his voice pitched higher as he thrusts his hips upwards when you sink your mouth further down his cock, makes your clit twitch and you have to squeeze your thighs together to help alleviate your neediness.

You moan around his cock, tongue continuing to circle the head of his dick, flickering at sensitive spots, as you take him into your mouth as far as you can. You don’t deep throat him, not yet, so your hand makes up for it by adding firm strokes in conjunction with the bob of your mouth. The cabin is filled not only with moans but the sound of wet suction, especially when you pop his cock fully out of your mouth and give greedy sloppy licks down his entire shaft. 

König loses a bit of control and when your mouth envelops him again, sinking down as far as previously, his hand pushes the back of your head down even more. You had been expecting it, the tightness in his thighs, the way he whined even more and babbled incoherently, and even though you braced yourself, you ended up choking and sputtering around his cock. It only adds more spit, more slip to the already sloppy blow job.

You sit up a bit and take a breath, hand still stroking up and down, before you dive back down. This time you look up at him as you sink your mouth on his cock, your eyes locking with his, even with his eyes so dilated they’re so blue in contrast to the black material of his mask that nearly blends into the darkness of the night. His eyes are wide, watering even, and when he sees you look up at him, mouth stretched around his big cock, his own eyes roll back as his hips start to buck harder, faster. He cries out his impending orgasm, first in German though, for your sake, he remembers to repeat it in English as well. 

Not that it matters, you offer him an encouraging, “mm-hmm” around his cock, letting him know that you wanted him to cum in your mouth and it drives him over the edge with a loud obscene moan, shooting rope and rope and rope of cum into your mouth.

You swallow what you can, the rest sliding down the side of your face as you sit up for air. His eyes are still closed as he pants for breath himself. Since he doesn’t seem to be paying any attention, you get a mischievous idea and lean in close to him, and use the edge of his mask to wipe your face clean.

He chuckles but doesn’t stop you, only taking your hand in his when he feels that you are done. 

Most of him is limp against his seat, except for the grip he has on your hand, his knuckles resting on your thigh. 

“Hey,” you reach over and gently tug at his hood, to which he leans down just enough for it to slip off. “You ok?” 

He gives you a lazy grin, face flush and hair starting to mat down. He doesn’t quite answer you though, instead pulls your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss across your knuckles.  

You smile and, blushing strongly at the innocent gesture despite the fact that you’d just swallowed a load of his cum, take your hand back so you could buckle up. “Let’s go home.” 

The ride home is somewhat odd. He hasn’t said a word since you had his cock in your mouth and that silence is a little worrying. It’s not until you’re back home that you finally break the silence.

“König? What’s wrong?” You stop him before he can retreat into the bedroom.

“Nothing, Engel.” 

“Then why are you so quiet?”

It’s almost comical to watch a man so big try to shrink away from your gaze. He’s squeezing one fist over and over, trying very hard not to twitch under your gaze.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth, as you put two and two together. “Wait! Did you not like- Did I…Did I give you a bad blow job?”

König’s head snaps up. “What! No!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“My love-” “Do you hate all my blow jobs?!”

He shakes his head vehemently and shouts your name, but you still talk over him. 

“Is it because I choke? I can’t help it! Your cock is just so big!” 

“No! My Engel,” he finally stops you with his hands on your shoulders, “I love watching you choke on my cock!”

You take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down and pout up at him. “Then what is it?”

He sighed and rubbed your shoulders for a moment before taking your hands in his. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

There had been a look in your eyes that night that he wrote off as you being so close to dying. But he saw it again tonight…

“Oh.” Your pout morphs into something much more stoic. “When that man…” You trail off, you both know what happened that night.

“Yea.” 

“What about it?” 

He glances away from you and chews on his lip before changing the subject. “Tell me, my love. Did you enjoy watching me kill that man?” 

“Yea.” You tilt your head, “why wouldn’t I? He got what he deserved.” 

He nodded. “Did you enjoy watching me almost kill your coworker?” 

This time it’s you that blushes and looks away. “Yea. I. I suppose being annoying doesn’t quite deserve that much violence, but…” what can you say? It was hot watching him so easily break the other man (oh and defending your honor too!). 

“And,” he paused, licking his lips, “did it turn you on?” 

Your face burns even more, “well,” you chuckle sheepishly, “that is why I blew you.” 

He frowned and dropped your hands, though remained somewhat hunched so he could properly look you in the eyes. “I kill people.” 

You squint at him, “yea…?” This wasn’t news to you…Why was he saying this? 

“Not just the man who tried to rape you. Not just in my capacity as a soldier.” 

Maybe you could understand where he was coming from. He never explicitly told you of his activities. You simply knew based on your first meeting and the way he spoke so casually about killing. “...Yea, I know…”

“I need you to know that, Engel.” 

You nod, “ok. Got it.” 

“But I would never hurt you.”

“I know. I trust you.” Which was a peculiar thing to say considering how just very recently you didn’t even know his name. 

Upon hearing your answer, König glanced away from you, face dusted pink and chewing on his lip. He was right. You were an angel made just for him.

You frowned, “what’s wrong?”

He was quick to pounce on you, giant hands on either side of your face and threading into your hair as he pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. He swallowed your surprised little yelp, his tongue sliding against your lower lip and teeth nibbling at a particularly sensitive spot on your lip before slipping into your mouth. 

He pulled you close, one hand solidly wrapped around your waist and the other pressed into your back, as you melted into his embrace. He only let go slightly when he moved his kiss to your jaw, down your neck, nipping at the scar below your neck. 

You sighed, resting your hands on his shoulders as he continued to sink lower, pressing gentle kisses over your clothes and dropped to his knees. 

He finally pressed a lingering kiss to the scar on your stomach, hands on your hips, and looked up at you, your name falling lovingly past his lips.

“You are perfect. Marry me.” 

You really didn’t think he was a marriage kind of man. You assumed that when he told you that you belonged to him, that he would protect you from then on, that it equated to marriage in his mind. But with the way he was looking up at you now, looking both very serious and very vulnerable, to him, this was more than that.

“Oh, König,” you reply softly, your hand drifting from his shoulder to cup his face. He leans into your touch and never breaks eye contact with you.

You bend down and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Yes.” 

He laughs happily when he pulls you into another strong kiss. He’s still laughing when he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. 

[Death’s Haven]

Your husband was a killer. Not some vigilante with a twisted sense of justice. No, he simply needed to kill. For most of his life, this need was satiated through his career in the military. However, now that he was in the private sector, he had more time between jobs. Which led to the current reason you were home alone late at night.

He'd been between deployments for four months now. Yelling at recruits and paperwork was nearly driving him insane. When he started disappearing at night, when he spent his free time in secret, you knew what he was up to. You didn't ask him about it. You just made sure he had dinner and a clean home to come back to.

You were already asleep in bed when he came home tonight. When you felt him crawl into bed, hands sliding across your waist so he could hold you to his chest. He was very tactile like that, once he had you, he always had to be touching you in some way.

You let out a quiet sigh and shifted to get comfortable, vaguely aware that he was only wearing his boxers.

"I'm sorry, Engel. I did not mean to wake you."

"What time is it?"

"Three."

You grunted. Much too late (or perhaps, too early). Though you supposed coming home at three am was better than him coming home at five only to wake up at six to go to work.

You yawned and shifted, turning around so you could kiss his cheek. "Welcome home." You sighed, eyes already closing again as you cuddled up to him and started to fall back asleep.

König hummed, his hand gently moving up and down your hip, slipping underneath the tee shirt that you stole from him to use as a nightgown.

His soft touch chased away your sleep as his fingers dragged up and down your lower back. You wiggled your hips, attempting to get away from his touch by pressing your body further into him. "That tickles."

"Sorry," he muttered, lips brushing against your temple. "I missed you."

If your eyes weren't closed you'd roll them. Your big, strong, serial killer of a husband was sweet, cute even, acting like you hadn't seen each other for weeks.

But then you felt his hard on pressing against your thigh. Oh. He missed you like that. Yea. That made sense. Even though he slipped in late at night or early in the morning to see you before you left for work, you hadn't had sex since he started his recon a few days ago.

You nuzzle against his chest and smile, "did you?" You slide a hand down his stomach and fiddle with the waistband of his boxers. "I'd never be able to tell." 

He groaned and pushed you onto your back, knocking your legs apart enough for him to settle between. His kiss is rushed, tongue pushing past your lips eagerly, while he starts to grind his hips into yours. You let out an airy gasp when his kisses trail down your jaw to the scar on your neck. A scar you were once ashamed of, once associated with a moment of indignity. König insisted that your scars weren't ugly or shameful, they were proof that instead of taking you for himself, the god of death had given you to him as a gift. 

“What?” You rolled your eyes when he first told you such. “Is he a king and I'm one of his kids he can just give away?” 

He threaded his fingers into your hair and pulled, forcing you to expose your neck to him. “I am your only King. And you are my Angel.” 

Your leg hikes further up his waist, one of his hands splaying across the back of your thigh as he ruts into you again. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling his face back towards you as you attempt to kiss him again, instead he opens his mouth to mumble words against your lips.

“There was a witness.”

And you froze. The only witness he’s ever left before was you. For a moment you’re worried. Was this another damsel in distress that he saved? Was there another broken girl in his truck right now, waiting patiently to become your sister-wife? 

You push a steady hand against his chest that he ignores and continues to suck hickey onto your neck. “What?” 

He hums against your skin, moving his kiss down, where he nips at one of your breasts through the fabric of your chosen nightgown. He mistakes the concern in your voice as concern for him. He returns to your mouth, an eager heavy kiss pressed to your lips until he pushes his tongue into your mouth that you respond to tentatively. 

“I killed him too.” 

His hips grinding into yours, with his hard cock teasing your pussy through layers of thin fabric, draws out a needy whine from you. "O-oh?"

He grunts, breathing quickening as he starts to push your shirt up. "That's why I'm so late, my love.” He was quite eager, it seemed, as one of his hands slipped underneath your back to lift you so he could quickly pull the shirt completely off of you. “There was a lot of blood.” He finished his explanation (not that you asked for one) as he nuzzled his face between your breasts. 

You wanted to giggle, both because his slight stubble on your bare chest tickled and how silly you felt that he basically just motorboated you, but with the way he was already licking and sucking at your tits, your giggle quickly morphed into a moan. And then you finally registered his words. 

A bloodsoaked König, with his sniper hood hiding his face, looked like a monster straight out of a horror movie. The thought of it turned you on so much. “Yea?” Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to you as you lifted your hips to meet his, pressing against his hard dick. 

He chuckled as he sat up on his knees, still between your thighs, and tugged at your panties. You raise your hips enough for him to pull them down and toss to the side.

He leaned over you once again, propping himself up on his left arm, while his right hand found its way to your thigh again. You sighed as he all but had you pinned between his large frame and the bed. There was something frightening about his size, he was almost too big to be human, and yet he also possessed the uncanny ability to make you feel safe, no matter how vulnerable you were.

His fingers dipped between your thighs, his chuckles fading into a low groan when he finds how aroused you are. “You like that, Engel? Want to see me covered in blood, hm?” 

A gasped, “uh-huh!” is all you can offer when his fingers, coated in your slick, rock against your clit. 

König pulls his hand away all too soon, and the frustrated whine you puff out isn’t missed by him. You almost think he is going to tease you, that he is going to revel in the way you’re so desperate for him already, but there is a vulnerable sincerity in his eyes when you look up at him. 

“...Are you proud of me?”

Your lust is momentarily forgotten as you slide a hand to his face, gently cradling his face. His eyes closed as he leaned into your soft and touch. 

It was one thing to know that you accepted his proclivities, another entirely to know that you loved that part of him.

You gently run your thumb over his cheek bone so he could look at you again. You supposed you hadn't shown much enthusiasm for his activities since he nearly killed your coworker. You pull him down for a gentle kiss, whispering your answer against his lips. "Yes."

You even have a surprise for him, but the kiss that followed was much less delicate and much more needy on his part. It’s like he’s trying to mold himself to you, trying to fuse your soul to his. It’s as if he doesn’t want to let you go. And you give into him, forgetting about the little gift. You don’t want him to let go either. 

You’re so pliable under his touch, the way you so easily give your body over to him reminds him of the first night he met you. When you were too weak to stop him from ripping the shreds of your dress off of your body, too weak to stop him from moving your hands to stem the bleeding of a knife wound that should have killed you. The memory of your body, pinned underneath him now, covered in the sweetest blood has him biting down on your shoulder roughly. You gasp and whimper underneath him, only squirming not to get away from him, but to get closer to him. 

He drags his mouth down your body, trailing searing kisses along your skin. As always he pays special attention to the scar that dips below your collarbone, tracing the contours with his tongue as if he hasn't already committed every inch of it to memory. As always as well, he takes his time with your breasts, switching between rough nips into your flesh and gentle swirls of his tongue around the nipple. Every little hitch in your breath, every whine that pushes past your lips, alights his blood on fire.

His hips buck forward, seeking relief in the friction of his hard cock against the soft warm plush of your thighs. You whine, one hand resting on his shoulder and one tangled in his hair, as you feel the hot velvety skin of his cock rubbing the insides of your legs, pre cum smearing on your skin and you're not sure whether to pull him back up so he can stuff your pussy with that massive cock of his, or to push him down so he can lavish his attention elsewhere on your body.

König makes the decision for you as he continues to kiss and nip and lick his way down your body. He attempts to repeat the loving kiss with the scar on your stomach, attempts to trace it with his lips, but you become impatient and push his head, making him chuckle into your skin, which in turn has you also giggling.

He presses a lingering kiss to your pubic bone with a grin plastered on his lips, "so eager for me."

You huff, and make sure to exaggerate the little pout you throw at him. "Don't tease. It's been too long."

This draws another chuckle from him, though he spreads your thighs further apart so he can comfortably fit between them. "Less than a week, my angel."

You prop yourself up on one elbow and reach for his face, forcing him to look at you as you hit him with a trembling lip and the saddest eyes you could muster in the moment. "You promised to take care of me, König."

He stills at your words, muscles tense and eyes so wide that even in the dim light you could see the whites of his eyes. You were right, of course. How could he deny his sweet angel what you desperately wanted, needed? Especially when it was him that you needed. He gently places a hand over yours, never breaking eye contact with you, as he pulls your hand from his face and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, taking your little teasing to heart. “I will.” 

That is all the warning you get before he is diving between your thighs. His breath is hot on your skin as he kisses and licks his way towards your pussy. He doesn't ignore any part of you, his left hand both massaging your inner thigh, kneading at the sensitive flesh and keeping your legs parted wide enough for him.

By the time he draws his tongue through your folds, you're already a quivering mess. His long, deliberate, slow licks have you moaning and gripping his hair. His right arm anchors your hips to the bed, keeping you in place as his tongue circles your clit. You try to muffle the obscene moans that fall from your lips, but König knows you, knows what you like, and drags his tongue down your slit, curls his tongue inside of you to lap at you juices. His own moans fill the air with yours, the subtle vibrations only driving you crazier.

His name is a chant on your lips, your hands gripping his hair even more as you try to fuck his face. He groans and releases the iron grip he has on your hips, right hand snaking up to your chest where he roughly gropes at your tits.

He holds you down for your sake, so he can lick and suck and nip without losing his place between your legs. But as you near your edge, he lets go because there's nothing he loves more than when you shove your pussy into his face. His mouth parted, tongue dragging over every inch of you and pushing into your pussy. His nose bumps and rubs against your clit as he enthusiastically moves his head, his stubble scratching pleasantly against the inside of your thighs.

He could, and probably should, stretch you out a little with his fingers, prepare you for the girth that is his cock, but he’s selfish and wants you to come on his tongue. He switches his pace, frenzied flicks of his tongue on your clit, followed by long firm strokes through your folds until he pushes his tongue into your pussy. He moans again, savoring the ambrosia that he pulls from you with every swipe of his tongue. 

It’s when he starts to rock his hips into the bed, seeking to relieve his aching cock, that it feels like a final wave pushing you to your orgasm. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you pussy clenches wildly around his tongue, aching to be filled and stretched out even more. He continues to slurp at your pussy, his tongue covered in your cum as he gently offers small and gentle licks to your clit, following the movement of your hips without holding you down. 

König is liable to spend too much time between your legs. Liable to ease you down from your orgasm only to pull another one from you. And you’re liable to forget that you were supposed to give him his gift before fucking.

“S-stop! I! I!” You cry and whine and try to push his face away from your oversensitive clit. 

With a grunt, he finally relents and drops a few soft kisses to your thigh before propping himself up on his elbows and running the back of his arm across his face. “What is it, Engel?” 

After a moment to catch your breath, you finally look at him and smile softly at the way he's looking up at you so adoringly. "I have something for you."

A grin breaks out across his face as he kisses your thigh and moves as if he's about to start eating you out again.

"Not that!" You laugh and lightly push his face away from your still sensitive pussy. "Come here," you pat the bed next to you, inviting him to sit down for a moment.

"I got you something," you say as you give him a quick peck to the lips when he sits down beside you.

His hand slides to your waist and you know he's about to pull you on top of him, but you pull away quick enough to turn to the nightstand and flip on the lamp.

There’s some shuffling beside you as you open the drawer. The first thing your hand catches is a bottle of lube, that’s not what you were looking for, but you set it on the table anyways.

One of his hands lands on your thigh and squeezes as he leans with you, his mouth dropping small kisses to your shoulder. “Do we have to do this now?”

“Oh, I guess not.” You say as you put a rectangular box on top of the side table and turn to face him again.

He’s shucked his boxers off, instead of shoving his dick through the opening in front, and has his left hand holding the heft of his hard cock. Your eyes drop down to the wide pink mushroom head and immediately forget that you had been trying to gift him something. 

His right arm wraps around your waist as you kiss him and he pulls you atop one of his thighs. You whimper into his mouth as you grind down on his thigh, your already slick pussy making the glide easier and the friction electrifying. Even as you rock your hips back and forth, one of your hands wraps around his cock, next to his own hand. You both groan at the contact, Him at the way you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock, collecting pre cum and spreading it over down as you give him sensual little pumps. You groan as you and your pussy clenches achingly at the reminder of how big his cock is, the way there’s enough length for the both of you to stroke down, and the way your fingers don’t even meet around his girthy width. 

As you rest your forehead against his, lip tucked between your teeth as you continue to ride him, you notice his eyes flicker to the side table for just a second.

“You want to see it?” You ask with a breathless laugh, still chasing the pleasure grinding down on his thigh offers. 

He grabs the hand you have wrapped around his cock and makes you squeeze him harder, speaking with a groan as he thrusts his hips up. “Just tell me what it is.” 

“And ruin the surprise?” 

He grunts and grabs your hips, halting your gyrating, while simultaneously smashing his mouth against yours. The kiss is rough, aggressive even, as his tongue tangled with yours, preventing you from further teasing him. Still you moan and giggle into the kiss and blindly reach behind you until you find the box.

“Just open it real quick.” 

He sighed and reluctantly let go of your hips as he took the box from you. “What is the occasion?” 

The real reason? You wanted him to remember you. You were afraid you were nothing but a novelty to him. He wanted you for now, but soon he’d get bored of you and send you away. If you were lucky, he’d kill you, but you were never that lucky in life. He’d provide a safe home for you, make you feel safe standing next to him at the grocery store, or as he picked you up from work. Then he’d leave you, leave you fearing every shadow and bump in the night. To live in the hell that was his absence. 

“A hunting knife?” He unsheathed it, admiring the sheen and sharpness of the hooked blade.

It was deadly sharp, meant for skinning game. It wasn’t anything fancy. Perfectly utilitarian. 

You hummed and stretched out again, this time to grab the bottle of lube you set aside earlier. “You’re the one that asked me if I am proud of you.” You pour some lube into one of your hands, “I was thinking about what you do, and thought you might like this.” You wrap your hand around his cock, spreading the lube along his thick shaft, “at the very least it can make a cute paperweight for your desk.” 

König groans and shuts his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head against your shoulder, as you pump his now very slick cock. His hot breath fans over your skin as he mutters your name and nips at your shoulder. But he pauses when you lean to the side and expose the top of your scar to his mouth.

Suddenly he pulls away from you and looks back at the gifted blade. “You wanted to see me covered in blood, Engel.” 

It’s not a question, though you give him a quiet little “mm-hm" before you’re sitting stock still with a blade pressed against your throat. His cock throbs in your hands as your eyes flick up to meet his. His eyes, blown wide with lust, flicker between your own gaze and the knife he holds to your throat. 

“I have never seen blood as beautiful as yours.” 

Your heart thumps in your chest, and pussy, at his words. Did he think of your blood often? Did he still think of that night? 

You squeeze your hand, giving a tantalizing grip to his cock, and tilt your head to the side, whispering a loving taunt. “It belongs to you.” 

You see droplets of blood splatter across his face before you feel the sting of your flesh sliced open. You gasp, eyes squeezing shut, as pain catches up to you. There’s a clatter of the knife being tossed onto the nightstand before you feel his large hands digging into your hips and moving you so that you are fully straddling him. 

The head of his cock slides through your folds before nudging your clit and sends a wave of pleasure through you that distracts from the pain. You whimper and shudder when you open your eyes to see the look on his face. You imagine that this is what he looked like the night he saved you, but now you see him unmasked, see how the sight of you bleeding before him is nearly driving him insane. 

König moaned when he felt the first drop of blood hit his face, his cock jumping out of your hand and pulsing wildly. Your pained little gasp that followed did not assuage his desire, if anything it fueled it even more. He quickly discarded the knife and pulled you over him, his lubed up cock running along your slick pussy drawing moans out from both of you. 

He looked up at you, lost in bliss as you rocked your hips into him, rubbing your clit onto his cock, and snaked a hand into your hair to pull you down. He breathed in the air around you, filled with the scent of your combined arousal and sweat and, as he pushed his face into your skin, the light coppery scent of your blood. 

You whined again when he disturbed the cut on your neck, the fresh wound following the exact path of the previous one, only to cry out when he drug his tongue through the blood. 

“You have the sweetest blood, my angel.” 

And with a quick, rough, grip to the back of your head, he pulled you into a searing kiss. His tongue immediately found yours as if he was intent to share the taste of you, of your blood and cum. 

His face is smeared in blood when you pull away from his hungry kiss and look at him again. You rest your forehead against his and pant for breath, eyes locking with his as he lifts your lips and properly lines his cock up. 

You whimper when you feel the head of his cock start to spread you, but even his lust filled haze he’s aware enough of himself to go slowly, letting you sink down onto his girthy length at your own pace. 

“König,” you cry when you take him fully, your entire body hot and desperate to be close to him. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, his face tucked into your neck as you start to move your hips up, sliding back down with a moan as he fills you. 

He’s not quiet when your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, it feels too good to hold in the moan that rips out of his throat when you start to bounce on his cock. Slick. Your blood and sweat against his skin, your wet pussy around his cock, it’s all heavenly slick and he wants more. He groans and roughly guides your hips down to meet his own thrusts. You cling to him and moan as he easily lifts you only to slam you back down.

“My angel,” he growls hotly into your ear, his eyes rolling back when your pussy flutters tightly around his cock. 

He’s quick to shift positions, cradling the back of your head as he throws you onto your back. You only get to mourn the loss of his cock inside you for a moment before he is throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and bullying his cock back into your pussy.

The new angle allows him impossibly deeper, your moans are so loud you’re nearly screaming at this point. He moans loudly along with you when he glances down between your bodies and sees as he feels how your pussy clings to his cock, doing its best to not let go of him every time he pulls out. 

Your pussy aches and gapes when he pulls all the way out, slipping and accidentally brushing the head of his cock over your clit. You cry out, from the sensation of his slicked cockhead on your clit and for him, even this second without him filling you up is too long without him. You hook the leg he doesn’t have over his shoulder over his waist as he thrusts his cock back into you. It feels like he hits every nerve in your pussy, his pelvis grinding against yours and rubbing your clit and you can’t even say his name as your entire body begins to shake. 

Your orgasm is overwhelming, you claw and grab at König, yet at the same time the consistent grinding of his pelvis on your clit and his huge cock pistoning in and out of you has part of you wanting to push him away. He doesn’t let you, instead he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, chasing his own release. 

König’s head drops to your shoulder, chin hitting the cut on your neck, and groans loudly as you come on his cock, your pussy clenching around him dizzyingly tight. He growls and groans when you begin to struggle against him, sending him over his own edge. He breathlessly stills as his cock throbs, filling you with his cum as your pussy continues to clench around his cock. 

Eventually his hips slow down to a slow, sensual, grind, meeting your hips in the lazy aftermath. He drops your leg from his shoulder and braces himself on his forearms while he continues to nuzzle his face into your neck, sloppy open mouth kisses licking up blood and sweat.

“König,” you sigh and nudge him. He may be holding most of his weight off of you, but he’s still crushing you into the mattress and at this point it’s so hot that it’s starting to become difficult to breathe.

He grunts, his cock giving a final pulse as he pulls out, and rolls to the side. His hand lands heavily on your thigh, “give me a moment, Engel, and I will clean you up.” 

You whine at the sudden empty feeling and, with considerable effort, turn on your side and cuddle up to him, moving his arm around you. He embraces you, eyes closed as he basks in his post orgasmic bliss. 

“You look like a vampire.” You say with a light chuckle and brush a thumb across his chin.

He grins and opens one eye to look at you, “if I could live off of your blood, Engel, I would.” 

Your laugh is cut short with a grimace as you feel his cum leak out of your pussy. “Ok, I need to get up.” 

He sits up with you and pulls you into his lap before standing. “Let me.”

“You don’t always need to carry me to the bathroom!” 

“Can you walk?” 

Actually, probably not. 

König leaves the shower first, letting you relax under the hot water a little longer while he changes the sheets on the bed. There was too much cum, sweat and blood to ignore for the night. 

He’s waiting patiently for you when you finally get out of the shower. He’s thoughtful enough to lay one of his shirts out on the clean sheets for you to wear when he’s finished bandaging you up. 

“It’s not even that bad,” you say as you let him apply an ointment and a gauze bandage on the cut that’s barely bleeding anymore. 

He doesn’t really respond, just grunts and makes sure to secure the bandage properly before he turns around to set everything down on the nightstand. 

“Ah! König!” You gasp and slap a hand over your mouth when you see long scratch marks on his back, small beads of blood surfacing on his skin.

“What!” He turns quickly, eyes wide, afraid that he hurt you.

“I’m so sorry!” You squeak out behind your hand.

“What?” 

You hang your head and hide your face in your hands. “Your back is bleeding!”

“What?” He cranes his neck to look at his own back. 

“How embarrassing,” you mumble to yourself as you take the towel that’s wrapped around you and dab the bit of blood off of him.

His chuckles turn into a laugh, a full loud sound deep from his belly, as you fuss over him. He barely lets you touch his back before he is reaching behind him and pulling you onto his lap.

He stops your protests with a kiss, a smile still pulling at his lips even as he runs his tongue over your lips. “I cut you with a hunting knife, Engel, and you’re worried about little scratches?”  

“Fine,” you hum and pull away from him enough to slip on the tee shirt he laid out for you. “But if it scars, it’ll be the least cool story you’ve got.”

He turns off the lamp as you climb under the blankets. “I disagree. It’ll be my favorite. Next time, I will make you scratch my back even more.” 

König grinned at your little laugh as you settled into his embrace for the night. No, you didn’t hurt him and no he didn’t mind a tiny bit of blood spilled. He’d drown in your blood if he could, how could he not offer you the same? 

#König x reader #könig x fem reader #serial killer au #stalker au #this is about serial killer könig. NOT könig being a serial killer #dangerous serial killer is soft only for you

[sherewrytes]

Ex/ Baby Daddy Gojo x Reader

Gojo x Black Fem Reader (Female bodied )

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo and Y/N broke up about a year ago. They got a beautiful daughter by the name of Lehnai Gojo. Satoru found out through Suguru that Y/N started dating again and he wasn't having it.

Warning: Smutty Smut, Porn with Plot. Baby Daddy Satoru. He a lil toxic

Y/N got her daughter Lehnai settled and packed after a long day. Y/N checked the time it was 8 pm, Satoru was supposed to be here to pick up their daughter since 7pm. Y/N checked her phone and saw no text from Satoru. Rolling her eyes, she contemplated calling a sitter or her sister to come babysit because she got a fine ass date tonight. It was his weekend and you were ready to finally start dating again after being single a year now. You got ready wearing your tightest black Versace dress to show off bod. Just as you were contemplating calling your sis to babysit. You heard a knock on your apartment door. You did a once over in the mirror then went to open the door. You see Satoru dressed in his usual Bomber Jacket, Black jeans and white tee with the Cuban link chain, Doc Martins paired with his usual black sunglasses. You saw Satoru eyeing you up and down.

"You going somewhere, Ma. Thought you were stayin' in." You rolled your eyes walking back into your apartment looking for your phone to text your date that you'd be running a bit late. " So you aint gonna answer me Ma. Why you moving like that wid me." Gojo said with a twinge of hurt in his voice. You knew this was his tactics. Come over wind you up, you both argue then fuck. Toxic ass shit, which you were tired of.

"I'm going out Satoru, *waves hands about her body* obviously* Tryna play dumb. Stay out my business." Y/N said while taking out her phone to reply to her date. Gojo snatched her phone out her hand, scrolling through their chat. " Who tf is Christophe. Is it him you got all dressed up for." Here we go again you thought to yourself while trying to take your phone back from Satoru. You were barely 5'7 and he was at least 6'3 barefoot. You sighed "Satoru, can we not do this tonight. I gots somewhere to be, grab Lehnai from the living room, get out so I can head out." Satoru pulled you in closer with his free hand around your waist, leaned closer into your ear and said " Come on Ma, I don't want you going anywhere. If you wanna go out so bad lemme take you out. Get Lehnai dressed up we can go anywhere, or we can chill here as a family."

You stared at Satoru for a minute and he took off his shades and stared at you, with those blue eyes you use to love so much. You can feel the tension between you two growing every minute that passed. Satoru leaned in again and said in a hushed tone "Text him and say you can't make it". You felt Satoru's hand gripping your clothed ass. You mustered up some strength to pull away from him leaving him with your phone to think of a plan B because. He's gonna take Lehnai for his weekend and you were going out regardless of what he was yappin' about.

You walked to your kitchen casually checking on Lehnai in the living room, watching Ms. Rachel and giggling. You strolled to the kitchen to drink something whether its water or wine. Satoru strolled in the kitchen barely a few moments later. Satoru took the cup of water out your hand and leaned in and kissed you slowly just the way he knows you like it. "Toru!!" "Yes Ma, what you need" "For you not to do this. You're just playing around" "No Y/N I'm not playing around. I miss you; I miss us."

Satoru lifted you onto the counter wrapping your legs around his waist. He slowly slides his hand up under your dress to your clothed cunt rubbing slow circles on your clit just to tease you.

" Sa....Toru please" you were desperate, needy and soaking his fingers.

" Talk to me, you know I miss you right, i know you've been missing me too."

You unbuckled his pants, slipped your hand into his boxers, pull his pretty dick out. Suddenly your phone started buzzing on the counter you see it's your date. You were too caught up in the moment. Satoru smirked, picked up the phone and answered the call putting by your ears. As soon as you begun speaking trying to apologize to your date Chris, Satoru pulled your panties to the side and pushed in halfway.

You bit your lip trying to stifle your moans while your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. You knew no one can make you feel the way he does, fuck you the way he does, make you cum and beg the way he does.

Satoru being annoyed you were stifling your moans which he loved and Chris won't get off the phone with you, he picked up the pace. Satoru said "Tell him you're busy. Ma. It's family night." He started to pound into your dripping wet cunt. A moan escaping your lips as you try to quiet down. Not wanting to make it obvious to your date you were getting dicked down. You eventually ended the call only for Satoru to pick up the pace more, feeding you them deep strokes you love so much. "This pussy is mine Y/N. stop tryna share it around." You were dazed on how good he's fucking you, hitting all the right spots. He pounded into to you relentlessly hitting the same spot over and over.

"Satoru, Dadd.....hnghh slow down." He smirked and licked his fingers then started rubbing on your clit. " What were you gonna say. Daddy..Say that shit Y/N you know I love it." Satoru pulled you to the edge of the counter watching tears well up in your eyes while your stomach tightens. Before you could say anything, you choked on your words as you came around his dick.

He didn’t stop pounding into you after your orgasm. He was chasing his own. “fuck..fuck. been missin dis.” he groaned out while twitched inside of you. He pulled out and stroked himself before shooting ropes of cum on your thigh. Satoru puts himself away before heading to the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up. He kisses you deeply and says frankly "Cancel on that dude so we can spend time together." You checked your phone and saw a text from Chris saying " Im guessin you busy tonight so I won't bother you. Enjoy your "family time'."

You spent the rest of the evening and night chilling with Satoru and your daughter. All you can think of is "Man fuck my baby daddy" but you knew you still held a candle for him, but you ain't gonna tell him.

#jjk x black reader #black tumblr #gojo x black reader #gojo x female reader #black reader #jjk x y/n #gojo smut #gojo satoru

[koffeewife]

SHURI X JAMAICAN READER

Summary: A night out at the club takes a bit of a turn when y/n’s favorite song comes on and she starts drunkenly singing it to shuri , it’s the songs unique lyrics that takes shuri over the edge…

Warnings: tipsy reader, high reader, high shuri, implies smut (I’m too scared I’ll ruin it if I write smut lol)

(A/N: post writing this I am just gonna say hats off to all the writers on this platform because it is so fucking hard to translate an idea into a flowing story and I think this is the first and last time I try to do so 😭)

Soooo I’ve been on tumblr for a while reading and interacting but I never dared to write anything..but THIS scenario played out so nice while I was driving and smoking. This song was playing and it started from there you can listen to it but idk if it’ll actually go with the story so the choice is yours. If this is shit tell me immediately I’ll take it down and stfu forever 😭🫶🏾

I don’t plan on translating the patois in the dialog but if it’s necessary pls lmk and I’ll add it !

…here we go🫣 *inhales*

-

1:00AM at the club was your favorite time because the normal DJ switched out for a Jamaican one. Who so happens to be your favorite cousin.

You and Shuri decided to go out together to get some drinks in a more social environment rather than staying in like you had for the last year. Getting tired of hearing the complaints that “ Y/N put a spell on our Queen” or better yet “The Queen is pussy whipped” This was the perfect place to show face and vibe discreetly.

You made the final lick to seal your third blunt of the night. The bass in the club going hard to ‘The Harder They Fall’ by Koffee.

“Perfect song to spark the blunt to.” Shuri your girlfriend of 3 years chuckled.

The first pull was harsh but the second was sweet. That’s how you earned the name sour patch from your stoner friends.

“Here baby” you passed the blunt over. When your eyes locked so did your knees, it was a good thing you were sitting.

“You know you look really good when you’re high.” You boldly said. Shuri chuckled in reply and took a hit.

“If you think I look good so good sthandwa , dance with me”

She abruptly got up and put the blunt out, which forced you as well since you rested on her chest . As you two made your way towards the dance floor you locked eyes with your cousin.

When you saw that dumbass look on her face from the DJ booth you knew she was about to troll you in some way. The previous song seamlessly began blending into an intro you knew too well.

(start playing song here)

*Flash Back*

“Y/N long time mi nuh see yuh up weh mi spin yuh kno!” Your cousin said over wine at her place.

“It haad fi lef yuh yaad when it hold suh much luv .” You chuckled. Shuri was by no means keeping you from going out. It was more so you kept each other inside.

“Suh it guh when yuh get a gyal wid a ten outta ten ehhhhh!” You couldn’t help but bust out at the song reference she made.

“Gyal yuh nuh easy!” You laughed .

*Flash Back Over*

As soon as the bass dropped in the song you turned your back to Shuri to whine your waist.

Gyal , your pussy good mi gi’ you

10 outta 10

Up inna mi bed mi want you spread out again

“Careful, this same waistline is how you got stuck in the house for a year.” Shuri whispered in your ear, her waist keeping up with yours as she caught everything you threw.

What a body good , like you mek

outta gem

Hot inna your clothes when you

Step out again

“I’m just showing appreciation for the song choice it’s a tribute to you My Queen.” It came out a lot more breathless than you would have liked but truth be told her waistline was now leading and it was making you dizzy.

A just 10 outta 10 outta 10

Outta 10

Open up your book and mek

Mi tek out mi pen

You turned around to sing the chorus directly to her and the more words you said the darker her eyes sets.

“Slow whine gyal, your so fine

Pussy mek mi cum in no time” you sang.

Even under the club lights you could see the desire swimming in her eyes at the vulgar words you sang to her in your native tongue.

Without you even noticing her hand slide up to house your throat . “ nkosazana uyayazi ukuba indenza ntoni?” (Princess, do you have any idea what that does to me ?) Shuri rasped in your ear over the music.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at her like she hung the stars in the sky herself. The same effect that patois had on her, Xhosa had on you.

It was an instant panty soaker.

“masigoduke ndizokwazi ukubuyisa imbeko sithandwa sam” (let’s go home so I can return the tribute my love.) she ghosted over your lips.

Eyes heavy from the blunts , drinks , and Shuri’s goal to have cum untouched by her voice alone . You closed the gap between you two . The kiss was slow and deep but by no means was it romantic.

Her tongue danced with yours aiming to fuck you in the filthiest reaches of your mind. You knew if you didn’t leave now you would absolutely let her take you where you stood and no one would dare to try and stop the Black Panther .

You reluctantly broke the kiss with a gasp “yes.home.now.come” you spoke all at once and out of order.

You heard her laughing behind you as you practically dragged her off the floor.

“So you think I’m a 10 out of 10 ehhh” she teased . You tried to keep a straight face but failed thinking you both knew that you were both the 10’ s that made up the highest score.

-

*nervous chuckle*😅

#Spotify #shuri smut #shuri udaku #riri smut #koffee #shuri fluff #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri fic #koffeewife

[ordinaryschmuck]

David Zaslav is on the phone as he enters his office.

David: It's nothing personal, it's just business. But don't worry, once another buyer offers eighty million, you'll have your property back. Okay? Okay. Goodbye, Mom. Love you.

He hangs up and notices a package left on his desk.

David: Huh. That's peculiar.

He walks over and sees that it's addressed to him. With a shrug, he opens it up.

*WHACK*!

And gets hits in the face with a springy boxing glove.

***

A burlap sack is ripped off David's head. He looks around and sees he's in a form of a warehouse, with the only light being the shining above him. In the shadows, he hears a crunch of somekind.

???: Eh, *tsk-tsk* What's up, Doc?

Out from the shadows comes Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Yosemite Sam, and even Foghorn Leghorn. They do NOT look happy.

David: Who...Who ARE you? WHAT are you?

Sam: OOOOOOOOOOOH!

He pulls out his guns.

Sam: Now I KNOW y'all didn't just say that you--

Bugs waves a hand in front of Sam.

Bugs: It's okay, Sammy Boy. Can't blame da poor, dumb, foolish suckah. (To David) Do ya know who Mickey Mouse is, Doc?

David: Is...that who you are?

Daffy: Doeth he look like a MOUTHE, you buffoon?!

Bugs: Daf. (To David) Mickey's the mascot of Disney, YOUR competitor. Fer bettah or woise, he represents da company. And to dis day is the backbone dat made Disney what it is. As for me and my compatriots, dat's who WE are for Warner Brudders.

David: I-I'm the CEO of Warner Brothers DISCOVERY.

Foghorn: Which is, I say, which is the result of merging with WARNER BROTHERS, ya dumb pig! No offense, Pork.

Porky: N-N-No-No-No offense taken.

Bugs: (To David) Ya see, Doc, we're da Looney Tunes. Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Foghorn Leghorn, and Yosemite Sam. Ya see, while Walter was makin' the mouse dat would rule the world wid a goofy cartoon mouse that entertained the kiddies, we's was making some CLASS. Cartoons dat dee adults AND kids could appreciate, wid witty dialogue and cartoonish slapstick. Me and Daf, here? We made bank off a short where we discussed who got shot by Elmer Fudd, where da joke was ALWAYS Daffy getting hit.

Daffy: Took a lot of shotth to make that comedy gold. LIterally.

Bugs: And it worked. Wid a poifect simple premise dat people always remember, wid people going "Wabbit Season, Duck Season" to dis day. Dat's who we are, Doc...And ya messed it all up.

Sam: Ya messed with the WRONG pardners, Davie!

David: H-How? How did I mess with you?!

Bugs: Hey, don't feel too bad. Warner Brudders' have been messing wid us for years, but we always took it on the chin. Dey want us to do TWO basketball movies? Dey want us to get rid of Pepe Le Pew? Why not. He stunk anyway and we wanted him out for years. Dey want our iconic image for an animated sitcom? We did it. 'Cause we're da Looney Tunes. We can sell ANYTHING.

Porky: I-I-I actually l-l-li-lo-li-lo--Really enjoyed the sitcom.

Bugs: Okay, it can be argued dat da sitcom is criminally underrated, but dat's besides the point. What I'm getting at is dat we're willing ta sell anything just as long as we get some of dat green ourselves. But ya made a mistake, Doc. Ya see, you went after one of our own.

He makes a "come here" gesture, and both Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner come out from the shadows as well, with Road Runner comforting the Coyote.

Bugs: Pepe Le Pew is one thing. We understand that his sense of humor doesn't fit well wid dis day and age. But Wile? Oh brudder, why did ya have to mess wid him?

David: What did I do to him?!

Bugs: Coyote Vs. ACME. Ringin' any bells?

David: That...movie no one wants to buy?

Bugs: A movie ya overselled for a quick buck. A movie dat people worked night and day on. A movie written by James Gunn, yer golden boy who you have fixin' yer DC franchise.

Foghorn: Which is, I say, which is a whole DIFFERENT can a worms.

Bugs, ignoring him: A movie dat stars our very own Wile E. Coyote. A character who's toons and silly antics are timeless and, I'll admit, makes bank better than me. Wit no dialogue, just expressions and goofy signs, him and da Road Runner are characters where the possibility is limited by da power of imagination. And a movie where he sues ACME over their failed gadgets? Well, I'd watch that. Wouldn't you, boys?

The others all murmur in agreement.

David: Well, it might not make a profit--

Bug: Space Jam 2 made TWICE of what yer trying ta sell Wile's movie for. Ya would think that a man desperate to make money would release a film featuring their most iconic brand to get him MORE money. But, no, that's what a GOOD business man would do.

David: Please! I-It wasn't anything personal! I didn't even WATCH the movie!

The Tunes all stare at him.

Bugs: ...Ya didn't WATCH it?

David: N-No?

Bugs: You were willing to sell, shelve, and even DELETE a movie from existence because ya don't think it won't make a profit. Except ya nevah THOUGHT ta watch it yerself and make yer judgment?

David: ...Running a business is REALLY hard--

Bugs: You MAROON. You marooniest maroon that's ever marooned. I can't even comprehend how not only did you get yer job but how ya STILL have a job despite all da STOOPID decisions you've made in--How long has he been in charge?

Porky: A-A-A--Nearly t-two years, boss.

Bugs: TWO YEARS. Ya've been in charge for TWO YEARS and managed to cost da studio so much money that ya could compare it to da GREAT DEPRESSION! If Disney loses dat money, dey can make it back wid anothah Marvel movie or a live action remake of Moana! WE ain't Disney, Doc! We need every dime we get and we're losin' it because a YOU!

David: ...

Bugs: Honestly, we was initially thinkin' a beatin' the snot out a yous and leaking da movie to da public. But now? Woof. NOW I know yer as dumb as an animal. And an animal needs to be treated as an animal.

He pulls out a dog whistle and gives it a blow. Within seconds, a small, brown tornado bursts through a wall in the warehouse and zooms over to the group, stopping its spin to reveal The Tasmanian Devil.

Bugs: Have ya heard of the Tasmanian Devil, David? Who am I kidding, of COURSE ya haven't. Well, let's just say that he'd be happy to meet you.

Taz looks at David, licks his lips, and starts jumping for joy as he heads over to him.

David: No. No! NOOOOOOOOOOOO--

***

David stands before a press conference, clothes torn up and his body bandaged.

David: I am now announcing that I'm stepping down as CEO of Warner Brothers Discovery...And as my last act, I will release Coyote Vs. ACME to the public.

Reporter: And are you going to release Batgirl too?

David: Well, no, that movie's unreleasable--

A batarang lands in front of him.

David: ...Batgirl and Coyote Vs. ACME. Both coming soon...to a theater or streaming service near you.

#david zaslav #the looney tunes #looney tunes #bugs bunny #daffy duck #porky pig #yosemite sam #foghorn leghorn #wile e coyote #road runner #coyote vs acme #fuck david zaslav #sorry this is long #i had to get this off my chest

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 3]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

“I’m Seonghwa, the oldest.” The one on the end held his hand out to you with a small tilt of the head. You gladly shook his hand.

“Wait, we need to have a descriptor for ourselves? I was not given time to think about that. You go first.” The boy beside Seonghwa scratched his head, shifting the other member first so he had more time to think about his introduction. The boy that was moved blinked in confusion.

“What are you- Nevermind. Hi, I’m Yeosang.” He smiled. 

“Hi, Yeosang. You’re really pretty.” You couldn’t help but blurt you, making the others in the room laugh. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yunho.” The boy from before seemed to have given up on finding a descriptor or unique introduction. 

“You’re very tall, Yunho.” You looked up at him with a laugh. 

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He grinned proudly and you nodded, it was meant to be a compliment. The boys, even the ones you have yet to be introduced to, were all very good looking. 

“I’m San. I sing and dance.” He smiled brightly, holding his hand out to you. The first thing you noticed was how buff he was but his grip on your hand was soft and gentle.

“I’m Jongho, the youngest.” 

“Ah, Jongho. I’ve heard amazing things about your vocal range from Eden. Excited to work on some stuff with you.” You remembered. The boy immediately flushed, shaking his hands in denial while stuttering. Of course, you were not playing favourites, merely conveying the compliments the other producers had for him. 

“Save the best for the last.” The other tall guy at the end chuckled. You faltered for 2 seconds, swallowing your shock. You were grateful your mask could hide most of your expression now. 

“I’m Song Mingi. Rapper and lyricist for Ateez. Hongjoong hyung and I work together during the song making process.” He introduced. 

“Nice to meet you. Looking forward to working with you in the studio.” You hid your shock and shook his hand. 

“So a brief into our family here. Seonghwa and I play the parent role to these 6 kids.” Hongjoong explained. You turned to Seonghwa, who face palmed at how cringey the captain was being. 

“There’s a lot to learn about us. But don’t worry, you will pick it up as you hang out with us.” Wooyoung slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Stop that.” San hit the back of Wooyoung’s head, pulling the smaller boy back and hugging him with his arms by his side, in a restraining way. Wooyoung pouted, upset.

Like Wooyoung mentioned, Hongjoong had told the others about how you would like to keep your identity a secret. Therefore, they never asked for your real name or pointed out your mask. You sat together in a circle to talk and for you to ask each other questions.

“We heard that you worked underground but did you work with other idol groups before us?” 

“Yes. Athough, I don’t really count those as working with idol groups... I mainly send my things in and they use it for idol songs and credit me. This is my first time working up close and personal with idols.” You explained. 

“That’s cool.” 

“Of course she is cool. Hongjoong hyung doesn’t just gush over random people.” Jongho pointed out and Hongjoon kicked him. 

“I did not fangirl or gush! Stop saying that!” He hissed at his members. You pursed your lips to conceal your laughter as you watched his ears turn red again. The members were having fun teasing him.

“You guys kind of have the same look and vibe. Either a couple or siblings.” San said. You choked and Hongjoong’s eyes widened.

“Yah, San ah. Watch what you say.” Seonghwa stifled a laugh. 

“No, they’re definitely like siblings.” Yunho tapped his chin while the others nodded in agreement. 

“Alright, alright. Stop teasing her already. That’s not very nice.” Hongjoong defended you protectively. You felt the same feeling as you did yesterday, looking at Hongjoong like an older brother. While all this was happening, you hadn’t noticed that Wooyoung left his spot, scooting closer to you so he could sit beside you. 

“Oh!” You jumped in slight shock at his sudden appearance. San scooted over, holding Wooyoung by the ankles and literally dragging him across the floor, back to his original spot.

“Don’t pout.” San held his chin, draping Wooyoung’s arms around himself to hug him. You watched the two of them. 

“I can see the wheels turning in Indigo’s head.” Yeosang said.

“They’re soulmates... borderlining a couple, which is why people mistaken them for a real couple. Their pairing name is Woosan.” Mingi explained. You nodded your head slowly, really not expecting that. 

“Plus, I’m sure you’ve seen Wooyoung’s flirty tendencies. So that adds to it.” Seonghwa added. 

“You just can’t turn off the charm.” Wooyoung winked at you. 

“You’re gonna get a time out soon.” Hongjoong threatened. You shook your head with a laugh at how Hongjoong was really like Wooyoung’s parent.

“I guess what I just wanted to get a feel for your vibes, as a group and as individuals. I’m sure you all have a preferred genre?” You asked. They all began to discuss genres they like and possible genres they want to explore. They then put on a small performance for you. 

“It’s rare to see a team with members that can both rap and sing. That’s was a really great performance. I enjoyed it thoroughly.” You were in awe as you clapped for them. 

“Thank you.” They all bowed. 

“I feel like I have to show something now...” You scratched your head. Suddenly, your phone rang. You picked up the call while excusing yourself.

“Hello?... Oh, JYP... Hang on.” You exited the studio briefly. Hearing you address one of the top entertainment companies made the boys’ eyes widen as they looked at each other in shock.

“You weren’t kidding when you said she’s popular.” Seonghwa said to Hongjoong.

“Told you so.” The captain shrugged.

“Wait a minute. She wears her mask all the time, even drinks from a straw, how did you have lunch with her?” The realisation hit Hongjoong like a ton of bricks as he turned to Wooyoung.

“At first, I was just going to drop food off at her studio and leave so she could eat in peace. But she insisted that we eat together. She wore a cap to cover her face and I didn’t actively try to catch a glimpse of her face either.” Wooyoung explained. As they all talked and waited for you to return, they didn’t notice that one member had also stepped out of the studio.

“Okay. Send me the contract and I’ll be in contact.” You said and hung up. When you turned around, you let out a yelp of shock, not expecting someone to stand there. 

“You shouldn’t creep up on people like that.” You put a hand over your heart but had a playful glint in your eyes, a sign that you were not upset.

“Sorry, I just had something I wanted to tell you. In private.” He gulped. You nodded, waiting for him to speak. 

“I-I’m sorry about yesterday, I really should have knocked before entering. It’s just that the studio is where I work sometimes since it’s empty so I wasn’t expecting anyone inside...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s fine.” You shook your head.

“W-Well, the main thing is- I just wanted to assure you that I won’t tell anyone what I saw yesterday.” He said.

“I appreciate that. Really. Thank you.” You smiled softly, squeezing his arm since he was tall and it would be awkward to pat his shoulder. He shook his head with a shy smile.

“It would be wrong of me to tell anyone or exploit the information.” 

“You’re one of the rare ones then. Everyone seems ready to yank this thing of, thinking it’ll make me falter. Don’t know why everyone’s so bothered by it when they were the reason I’m wearing it in the first place.” You tugged on the side of your mask gently with a slightly bitter chuckle. He sent you a pitiful smile. 

“Guess I don’t have to worry about having to make you sign an NDA.” You joked, trying to make the situation more light hearted. You knew that Mingi has pure intentions and genuinely felt bad. 

“You have one?” His eyes widened in surprise.

“Can never be too safe.” You shrugged. You had a lawyer draft up an NDA for you years ago when you started getting a bit more popular and in demand. 

“You should go back into the studo first. They don’t know I left.” He instructed. You nodded and bowed your head gratefully before going back into the studio. There was loud eruptions at your return. 

“Where’s Mingi?” Hongjoong asked.

“I think he went to the bathroom. He passed me while I was on the phone.” You replied, grabbing your laptop and opening it. 

“I guess one of the reasons why Eden approached me was for my heavier hip hop sound, which does match you guys. But I’ve been dabbling in some softer beats recently.” You explained, eyes trained on your screen. 

“These are some of my past works.” You let them listen to some stuff you’ve produced before. However, you were not expecting them to get up and start doing a freestyle dance. 

“Go! Go! Go!” They hyped each other up and soon, it became like an underground dance club. 

“You guys are hilarious.” You fell back from too much laughter. After that short stint of fun with Ateez, your studio was done so you went back down to unpack some things. You mainly moved the producing set up as it was the most important part. After that, you filled the shelves with whatever you brought from home that you might need here.

“Looks like you’re settling in well.” Eden appeared. You turned around and nodded your head with a smile.

“I had to take these out of storage. Haven’t used them since I started working from home instead of an external studio.” You said, placing the spare keyboard on the side. 

You used to work outside of home, which was why you needed extra equipment. Eden noticed that unlike other people, you did not put up any photos of anyone. No group photos, no photos of you or family. 

“Let me help.” He stepped forward to help you move the keyboard up onto the legs to stand. 

“If you need help, just let any of us know. Even the Ateez boys.” 

“I will. Thank you.” You bowed. He waved and left you. You sat on the floor, unpacking the things you brought over. There were some signed CDs that were sent to you so you displayed those. 

When things were unpacked, you stood up and looked around. The studio was coming together and you were actually excited to start working in the space. You pulled your chair and sat down at your desk, plugging your laptop in and turning on all the monitors.

“Hmm...” You retrieved your notebook and pen, beginning to write down some thoughts and observations regarding the Ateez members. 

“We can definitely try a soft rap piece.” You scribbled. 

Once your headphone were on, you shut out the rest of the world around you and entered your bubble. You turned on the digital metronome to lay the foundation for your beat and worked from there, adding components. 

“Ah, this isn’t it either.” You clicked your tongue, annoyed when it didn’t sound like how you imagined. You reached over to take your phone and ordered some coffee to be delivered.

‘Customer, your order is here!’ 

You pushed yourself away from your desk and left your studio to go downstairs. There was no deliveryman but the coffees you ordered were with the security guard.

“Here you go.” You took one cup out of the holder and handed it to him. He was shocked by your gesture but bowed gratefully nonethless, receiving the cup with two hands. After that, you brought the remaining cups upstairs. You gave out the drinks to the people of Edenary who were around before finally going to the dance practice studio.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You heard San’s voice. Since your hands were full, you used your shoulder to push open the door. 

“Sorry to interrupt. I ordered some coffees for you.” You bowed as you stepped in. They looked tired, panting from practice. But when they heard your words, just like excited puppies, they all ran towards you excitedly.

“Thank you, Indigo.” They chimed as they drank.

“No problem. I hope you guys are okay with iced americanos. I wasn’t sure what your regular drink orders are.” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“Don’t worry about that. The sincerity is more than enough.” Wooyoung grinned as he took a sip. Once again, you found yourself sitting with them in the middle of the studio. 

“How’s your studio?” Hongjoong asked.

“It’s good. More or less ready to go. Just some small stuff that I still need to buy and add to it. You guys can drop by later if you’d like.” You said.

“We definitely will.” Yunho smiled charmingly. He has a nice smile, it almost made you a little flustered. You turned around slightly, just to fit the straw under your mask to drink your own coffee before turning back to face them. They were not fazed by your actions, they treated it as normal. 

“This was a good break. I think I needed to clear my mind for a bit.” You confessed. 

“Producer’s block?” Mingi asked. He and Hongjoong knew that all too well, being the lyricist and producer for the team. Suddenly getting stuck on projects was a common occurance. 

“Yeah. It was working well but then, it wasn’t working well. Just trying to get past that hurdle.” You explained.

“Well, I should let you guys continue your practice. Just ring my doorbell later. I’m usually working in the studio until the late hours anyway.” You told them, standing back up. They nodded and waved to you. 

“See you later.” 

“Thanks again for the coffee!” As you left the studio, you heard music start again and the squeaking of sneakers against the wooden floor. 

Walking back into your office, you looked at the draft you had been working on. Maybe you needed some extra inspiration and motivation to get you through. Smiling to yourself, you took your phone out to make a call before going back to work. This was your tried and true method, the only thing that could just make things work out again.

“Aww... Okay. I’ll see you on Saturday. Goodnight, I love you.” You spoke, the smile never leaving your face as you hung up. Placing the device beside you, you wore your headphones again.

“Now, where were we?” You clicked around. You hummed to yourself, hand tapping against the desk top.

“That sounds better. Finally!” You said to yourself with a satisfied smile and nod of approval. 

After another song, the 8 Ateez members panted heavily, laying on the ground. Some continued to lie there to catch their breath, some went to wipe their sweat while others grabbed a drink of water.

“Hyung, you’re the first to meet Indigo, right? And you knew of her before she joined KQ.” Jongho asked. The captain nodded his head, swallowing his water.

“She’s known underground, really. How do you think Eden hyung found and scouted her?” Hongjoong said.

“Yeah, we don’t doubt you on that.” 

“But is her identity really hidden? Like no one has ever seen her face or known her real name before?” Yeosang asked the question that had been on everyone’s mind. 

“You guys... Of course it is real. And we should not question it. No one has seen her face before. Like she said, she has never actually met the artists that she works with in real life. This is the first time she’s actually physically working with artists.” Hongjoong told them. 

“We didn’t mean it in a rude way. Just curious. We would never actually bug her or ask her about it.” Seonghwa said. 

“She has her own reasons. Maybe she used to show her face but something happened that made her feel like she needed to hide her identity.” Mingi defended you. Now all heads were turned to him.

“How do you know so much?” San asked. 

“I don’t. It’s just a guess.” Mingi replied with a shrug. He remembered the words you said to him earlier outside, the bitterness in your tone. 

He was curious too but would never make it obvious. You had a nice personality but he could see you were holding back, hiding yourself behind the mask. And Mingi thought you were pretty, even if he was only able to get a glimpse of your face. There must be a personal reason as to why you would want to cover up.

“I’m already tired to continue dancing. I want to see Indigo’s studio.” Wooyoung whined, rolling around the ground. The boys decided to call it a night, changing out of the sweaty clothes before visiting you so they wouldn’t smell. 

“I hope she can hear us.” Hongjoong rang the doorbell. They waited for a few seconds before they heard the keypad beep.

“Oh! Come in.” You let them in. 

“Woah, it’s like an entirely different place.” Wooyoung was in awe as he looked around, this was so different from what he saw earlier today. Hongjoong nodded in agreement. 

“It’s very nice.” Seonghwa complimented. Being one for cleanliness, he liked how organised your studio was.

“And I have enough chairs for people to sit down now. Plus an extra arm chair.” You giggled. Adjacent from the couch was a single arm and a stack of stools next to it. However, some of them preferred to stack on the couch.

“The set up looks great.” Hongjoong observed, standing right in front of your desk.

“It’s a lot more conducive to me now, everything is within reach. Looks similar to my home set up.” You came up to stand next to him. 

“You don’t work at an external studio?” Mingi asked.

“I used to. But since I have a spare room in my place and I live alone, why continue to pay rent when I could just convert it to a home studio, you know? Plus, the people that rented the other studios in the building don’t take care of the place.” You shook your head at the bad memory. 

“Well, now that you’re here in KQ, you can work productively! Don’t be afraid to come to us for help. We’ll try our best. You can count on us.” Yunho said with two thumbs up.

“Yes, we’re all family here.” San smiled. 

~

Series Masterlist

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez series #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #song mingi #song mingi x reader #song mingi scenarios #song mingi series #mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi series #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #ateez imagines #mingi imagines #ateez x reader #idol!ateez

[eomayas]

make it up to you • dks

pairing: sugardaddy!kyungsoo x sugarbaby!reader

synopsis: reader has an attitude because of her sugar daddy, and he decides to make it up to her.

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!

warnings: pwp, mild brat taming??, praise, oral (f receiving), kyungsoo is sweet but mean but sweet, reader is in her feelings, mild angst ??

unedited

all you feel is irritation when you see his name pop up on your phone. answer your phone, the text reads, to which you roll your eyes and clear the message from your screen. your phone starts ringing again, and you send it to voicemail like you did with the others. he’s definitely pissed, but you don’t care because the feeling is mutual.

you decide to put your phone on DND, just in case he calls or texts you again. you probably shouldn’t be acting this way, given the fact that he funds your lifestyle, but in your eyes, he deserves it. he hasn’t spent any time with you lately, and cancelled two of the dates you’d had planned, at the very last minute. he doesn’t always answer when you call, but expects you to pick up before the phone even rings. well that isn’t happening today.

a knock at your front door causes your yorkie, coco, who was perched peacefully on your ottoman, to jump off and start barking. ironically, kyungsoo bought you this dog to keep you company when he couldn’t, and she proved to be a much better companion than him these days.

you frown at the unexpected visitor, and pick coco up off of the floor. she yaps again and you shush her, peeking through the peep hole. you roll your eyes at the sight of him behind the door and turn around. if he thought he was going to pop up unannounced and you’d let him in, he would have to think again.

you retake your seat on the couch, coco in your lap, and turn the TV up a few notches. another knock comes a few seconds later, making coco bark again. “hush, girl,” you say to the tiny dog, petting her between her ears.

another knock sounds, and coco springs off of your lap and towards the door, yapping incessantly. you groan and get up, knowing that she won’t stop until he does. as you approach the door, you hear him say, “come on, y/n, open up.” he sounds slight agitated, which annoys you, because if anybody has the right to be mad, it’s you.

picking coco up off of the floor and talking her down, you peek through the peephole once again to just get another glimpse of him. from what you could see, he was still dressed in his work attire, which brings you a mild sense of happiness, knowing that he most likely came straight here after he got off.

you reach for the door, and you can’t ignore the way your heartbeat gets faster when you touch the handle. it’s easy talking shit to kyungsoo over the phone—but now he’s actually here and the consequences that are about to come with it are going to be hell.

pulling the door open, you wedge yourself into the gap so he can’t immediately walk in. no, he was going to work for it at least. “hello,” kyungsoo says, his eyes boring into yours. coco yaps in excitement at seeing her dad and squirms to jump out. “at least somebody is happy to see me.” he says, reaching out to grab the dog. and maybe it’s petty, but you pull away so he can’t grab her.

kyungsoo looks at you, mild traces of shock on his face at your attitude. he knew you’d be like this, could feel it brewing the moment he had to cancel the first date this week. he didn’t intentionally mean to upset you—it really was just work—and felt bad about it, actually, despite what you may think.

“what do you want?” you ask, holding coco close to you. you keep your eyes on kyungsoo, but it’s getting harder. he’s not the biggest man, but he take up a lot of space, and the way his eyes haven’t left yours since you opened the door has made you more nervous than you intended to be. but if you look away now, he’ll call you bluff and that is not something you’re willing to let happen.

“not even ‘hi’? just ‘what do you want’?” he asks, his eyes widening. you just shrug, and he scoffs. kyungsoo lightly shakes his head at you and says, “wow. can i at least come into the house that i pay for?” and he knows it was asshole-ish to throw that last part in there, but he wasn’t going to argue with you in the hallway of your apartment building.

you bite the inside of your cheek and sigh, moving out of the way because you can’t argue with what he said. he walks into your house and closes the door behind him, while you quickly make you way to the couch. coco jumps off your lap the first chance she gets and runs over to kyungsoo, jumping at his shins. traitor, you think to yourself as he picks her up and carries her over to the chair that is across from the couch. kyungsoo coos at coco, petting her and letting her bite his hand because her teeth don’t even hurt.

you pout silently, your eyes trained on the TV, even though you’re not really watching. you want kyungsoos attention despite all of the things you said, or didn’t say, for that matter. you want him to be making it up to you, to be trying to win your affection back. but he’s giving it all to a dog he barely sees, doesn’t feed, and doesn’t walk.

you huff and kick off your slippers to bring your legs up onto the couch. kyungsoo looks over at you and let’s his eyes trail over your frame. he can never stay mad at you for too long, is never really mad, anyway. he just likes to play the game sometimes, except he is pretty annoyed with you right now. “y/n,” he calls, leaning back in his chair.

“what?”

“i’ve got something for you,” he says, feeling the box in his jacket pocket.

“hmm,” is all you say, but you’re intrigued. he was a good gift giver and always knew what you liked. whenever he went overseas, he always came back with a new purse or shoes for you.

“you don’t want to see it?” he asks.

you shrug and readjust your position on the couch. kyungsoo watches you for a moment before getting up. you force yourself to keep your eyes glued to the TV screen as he walks over to cocos dog bed. it’s only when his back is to you that you allow yourself to look, holding back a sigh and biting your lip.

kyungsoo sets coco down and tells her to stay, and she obliges, laying down and gnawing on a toy. he stands up and turns around, making his way over to you on the couch. you instinctively bring your knees closer to your chest. kyungsoo takes a seat on the cushion next to you, leaving about two cocos-width of room between the two of you. watching you for a moment, kyungsoo wets his lips, waiting for you to engage with him first.

when you don’t, he runs a hand through his hair and reaches over to put a large hand on your leg. you can’t help but look down, wanting nothing more than to hold this hand and guide these fingers into your mouth. but instead of doing that, you ignore him again and go back to the tv.

kyungsoo clenches his jaw and removes his hand, putting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. “i’m getting tired of this attitude,” he says.

“i have one because of you,” you snap. he lifts his head to find you glaring at him. he wants to smile, because even when you’re pissed, you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. even cuter than coco. “i didn’t even ask you to come over.”

“i don’t care; i wanted to see you,” he says. all you do is roll your eyes and mumble whatever. but on the inside, you burn for him.

instead of waiting for a response that he knows he won’t get, he grabs your ankle and pulls you towards him. you don’t put up much of a fight, only when he practically has you in his lap. “got tired of you others bitches? is that why you came over?” you ask, perching on one of his thighs.

“yes. you’re the only one who gives me problems, keeps it interesting,” he says, a smirk on his face. you scoff and try to get off of him, but he pulls you back onto him, so you’re now straddling him, and holds you in place.

he was only joking with his last comment. he doesn’t have any other girls, you’re enough for him. and even if he did, you’d probably still be his favorite. probably. “you know i was kidding, right?” you fold your arms over you chest and glare down at him.

“you’re annoying,” you say. your eyes trail down his neck, stopping at the the exposed part of his skin where a few buttons are undone. you let them wander down to his chest, where it looks like the material starts to strain a bit. his hands rest on your hips and his eyes stray trained of your face. he typically doesn’t like to be ogled, or the center of attention, but he will allow it with you. “where’s my gift?” you ask, putting more of your weight on him.

kyungsoo let’s out a short laugh. “you think you deserve it? after how you’ve acted?” he asks, his voice getting more serious.

“yes! i’m only this way because you make me this way!” you sound childish and you know it, and you both want things that you know you’re going to have to work for right now. “and you haven’t even said sorry.” kyungsoo opens his mouth to retort, but closes it when he realizes you’re right.

“let me make it up to you,” he reasons. you just stare at him with a blank look on your face, arms still crossed in front of your chest. kyungsoo uncrosses them and you let them fall at your sides limply, doing everything but putting them on him. he notices and intertwines your fingers, and you don’t pull away. he tugs you closer to him and puts his lips on yours, but you don’t kiss him back. when he tries again and fails, he pulls back and gives you a look.

“you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

this ignites something in kyungsoo. he puts his hands underneath your ass and lifts both of you off of the couch. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to your bedroom, slamming the door behind him to keep coco out.

he practically throws you onto the bed and is on top of you in seconds, kissing your jaw and nipping at your neck. you try to act uninterested, but your irritation with his suit jacket gives it away. he lifts up and helps you push it off of his shoulders and onto the floor. that jacket probably costs more than your rent.

your gift clatters to the floor and he quickly retrieves it, holding it in front of you. you reach for it, and he pulls it back. “only if you kiss me,” he says. at that, you lean up and pull his lips down to yours, teeth clashing together. kyungsoo laughs lightly and pulls away, but not before giving you one more quick peck. he grabs your ankle and opens the box, pulling out the diamond anklet and latching it around your leg. it shines when the light from outside hits it, and you smile.

within seconds, he back on top of you. with his coat off, you’re able to grip onto his shoulders and back better, and for a moment you get lost in the broadness of his shoulder. you hadn’t seen him in awhile, but you swear they’ve never seemed this broad before. he must be working out, you think.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he tugs on your tight crop top. “take it off,” he says, resting his hands on the outside of your thighs. you quickly pull your top off, tossing it to the side before he goes back to attacking your skin with kisses. he gropes one of your breasts and his other hand rubs you over the thing material of your leggings. you sigh into his mouth, and he moves down to kiss you chest.

you pant as he continues to rub you through your pants, and whimper when he unhooks your bra and starts sucking on your breast. “kyungsoo, please,” you whimper, one of you hands in his short hair. kyungsoo looks up at you, your breast still in his mouth. he releases it and licks your nipple before asking, “what do you want, baby?”

you don’t hold back, determined to get everything you want tonight, and then some. “you. your tongue, your mouth,” he smirks at you and hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings to pull them down. once they get to you knees, you lift yourself up and finish pulling them down so they don’t snag on the anklet.

kyungsoo presses a kiss to the inside of your ankle, trailing up to the inside of your knee and to you inner thighs. the anticipation of him moving your underwear out of the way and devouring you is too much, and every move he makes causes you to whimper. “you’re needy tonight,” he comments, placing a kiss on your clothed cunt. you squirm and he kisses it again and then pushes your legs open, his palms resting on the inside of your thighs. “my needy, needy baby. are you still mad at me?” he asks, his mouth right in front of where you need him most.

“kyungsoo!” you whine, trying to close your thighs around his head.

“am i still irritating?” he asks, kissing your hip bone, his eyes trained on your face.

yes. “no! i’ll be good, soo. i promise,” you whine, dragging your foot up his back. at your promise, he smiles and it’s like a flip is switched because your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s eating you like hes starved.

you moan every time he sucks on you clit (which is a lot), and claw at the sheets. you back arches off the bed when he adds his fingers into the mix. “f-fuck, soo! fuck!” you cry, your toes curling against his back. his free arm is draped across your stomach to hold you in place as you writhe beneath him.

“come on, pretty. i know you’re close,” he says, the vibrations of his voice against your cunt making you shiver. the sounds he’s making while eating you, the squelching and the slurping, drive you mad.

“fuck-“ you cut yourself off with a lewd moan of his name, your juices gushing all over his face and the sheets. he licks up every last drop, still sucking and licking at you and you hold his head down there.

“that’s right, baby. always so fucking good to me,” he says the last part mostly to himself. even when you pissed him off, had terrible moods or attitudes, you were always good to him. good for him too, though you definitely give him premature gray hairs.

kyungsoo licks you clean and then finally pulls away, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices. your chest heaves up and down and you let out light pants. he kisses your belly once and then leans down to kiss you. you don’t mind that he’s covered in your release and that you now are too.

he pulls back to lick his fingers, but pauses in the air when you open your mouth and stick out your tongue. “show me what that mouth can do, baby,” kyungsoo says and places his index and middle finger on your tongue. you wrap you lips around his fingers, keeping you eyes on him the whole time. you take him all the way down to his knuckles and come back up, as if you were blowing him rather than sucking on his fingers. “fuck,” he mumbles, his pants growing tighter by the second. spit drips down your chin and he lets out a a breath.

with his free hand he palms himself through his slacks, rubbing his hand back and forth. when you catch him doing this, you whine and pull his fingers out of your mouth. “mine,” you say, sitting up and throwing yourself onto him, changing positions so now you are sitting on top of him, naked and definitely ruining his pants.

“let me make it up to you.”

#do kyungsoo #exo kyungsoo #exo smut #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo x reader #exo x you #exo x reader #kyungsoo x you #kyungsoo imagine

[writtenbymkl]

[13:14 pm]

word count: 1,085

a/n: i came up with a new word, haechanitis, and i think i have it. i’m severely into this dude… like i know mark is my man but haechan … it was the concert that did it for me, if you guys had seen the pictures i got and the amount of times he looked at my camera, you would understand me （◞‸◟） not proofread btw !

̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊

“so, how’s it going with your little crush on haechan?” your friend asks as she scrolls through her phone.

“dude, it’s not a crush,” you say as you push her shoulder. “i don’t even talk to him.”

you’ve learned a lot from observing him, not to be creepy but every time your head turned to look at him, he was always doing something new. like when his friend jaemin is feeding him, he shakes his head when he opens his mouth. or when his other friend renjun, shoves him away whenever he gets too close to him.

you could honestly go on about haechan but you prefer to keep it to yourself. he’s way too out of your league and you’re too introverted to ever find the confidence in going up to him. unlike him who seems to strike up a conversation with whoever he comes across.

your friend notices that you’re lost in thoughts when she asks, “should i invite him over? i mean, he is my partner for this project we’re working on.” your eyes widen and you feel panic strike as your heart rate goes up.

“no! i will kill you and then myself,” you threaten while holding both her hands down, which in fact were about to wave him over. unfortunately for you, she still has her mouth.

“hey haechan!” you shut your eyes so hard and you feel your heart about to explode because you know he’s gonna walk over any second. he can’t resist talking to anyone who calls his name, that’s how he is.

“i’m leaving,” you state as you let go of her hands and rapidly grab your stuff, shoving just about anything into your backpack. you need to leave before he steps foot in your space.

“y/n, you cannot be serious…” she trails off as she watches you put your backpack on. all you can do is huff in frustration.

“i’m 100% serious. you know i can’t be in the same vicinity as haech-“ you’re cut off by the legend himself.

“woah, what did i do?” haechan questions with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you look at your friend and all she can do is offer you a sorry smile. you’re gonna do what you do best, which is to disappear any time something embarrassing happens because right now, you want the ground to swallow you whole.

“i gotta go, i’ll see you some other time, bye!” you exclaim to your friend as you speed walk out of the scene. you don’t turn your back once to see their reactions, all you know is that you have to get out there before you have to see haechan’s face up close for longer than five seconds.

“fuck, that was close,” you whisper to yourself as you lean against the wall outside. you had finally calmed down a bit since you were nowhere near him.

“what was close?” you let out a loud yelp as you turn around to see haechan standing behind you. well now you were definitely fucked. you must’ve killed a god in your past life because why was this happening to you?

“jesus, you scared me! what’s wrong with you?!” you exclaimed as you held a hand to your chest. you probably look like that spongebob meme right now. haechan just stares at you in amusement while crossing his arms.

“what’s wrong with me? what’s wrong with you?” he asks while nodding his head in your direction.

“i don’t know why you followed me, but i’m leaving. bye.” you say as you turn your back to him. you don’t mean to be an asshole but since you’ve never spoken a word to him, this is all that can come out.

his hand grabs ahold of your wrist before you can even walk two steps. “tch,” he tuts. “where do you think you’re going, y/n?” your eyes widen because how does he know your name. but then you relax as you realize your friend probably told him after you ran off.

“i’m going to study, now if you could let go of my wrist, that would be amazing,” you smile at him and watch as he lets go of your wrist before letting out a small ‘sorry’.

“i just wanted to know,” he starts while holding a finger under his chin showing his thinking face. “why you can’t be in the same vicinity as me, as you said.” he finishes while looking at you. you can’t look him in the eyes because if you do, you’ll confess right then and there. but then again, you’ve always been blunt since your middle school days.

“because i like you,” you state bluntly. haechan looks taken aback not expecting a straight and honest answer from you considering you were running away a few minutes ago. “now can i go? you don’t really know me so it doesn’t matter.”

“w-well-“ he stutters, still in shock from your confession. who would’ve thought you’d be the one to gag him. you sigh and stare at the ground bored. it’s not like you’re not used to rejection, you’re just tired of them wasting your time doing it.

“i’m gonna go now…” you trail off, taking steps backwards and pointing behind you. haechan, still in a slightly frozen state, nods but quickly shakes off the dazed state.

“wait, can i get your number?” he asks while quickly pulling out his phone, hands slightly shaking. you must be hallucinating at this point because there was no way lee haechan was asking for your number.

“mine? why?” you quickly ask. he shoves his phone in your hands and smiles encouraging you to type your information in.

“so we can get to know each other, duh,” he says while playfully rolling his eyes. now you’re the one in shock, he just pulled an uno reverse on you. you type in your contact name and phone number knowing there’s no way to get out of this.

“i might not know you at all or like you, but i’m sure i won’t have a hard time falling for you.” he says while giving a loving smile.

̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊

#haechan au #lee haechan au #haechan drabble #lee haechan drabble #haechan x reader #lee haechan x reader #haechan x y/n #lee haechan x y/n #nct #nct au #nct drabble #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct 127 #lee haechan #nct 127 drabble #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x y/n #nct 127 au #nct dream #nct dream au #nct dream x reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream drabble #lee haechan one shot shot #haechan one shot #nct one shot #nct dream one shot #nct 127 one shot #haechan fluff