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#gloomy weather does that to me
ordonianhero · 1 year
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“Complicated”
Wind: why doesn’t rancher speak about relationship stuff. I know he says it’s complicated. But- like does anyone actually know why?
Warriors: you know, I don’t think any of us truly know.
Time: *staying quiet and sipping his tea*
Sky: you know don’t you? *looking to Time*
Time: hm, if he wants to talk about he will or he won’t. That’s up to him.
Warriors: was it that bad?
Time: *sets his cup down* he said himself. “A princess that was so beautiful, it shattered his heart.” Friends and loved one will always come and go from our lives through time.
Legend: yeah. *sadly looking down as he carves a bird out of wood*
Time: think we all been there in some way or another.
Wind: champion do you know?
Wild: oh me, ah. Well no. But it pains me to see him look so down cast during the hour of twilight.
Twilight: *returns from patrolling* what’s with all the glum faces?
Time: *pats a seat beside him, Which twilight takes* nothing to worry bout pup. Think others are just curious about your statement you made a long while back about a certain princess.
Twilight: oh. *cough* yeah. It’s complicated. Still sorting that all out.
Four: that’s understandable, we don’t mean to pry into something you’re not ready to talk about.
Twi: *softly chuckles and sighs* yeah.
In Times journal he has written from his conversation with Twilight:
Those tears falling down his face, staining his cheeks, preventing his words,
They are not just because he is sad.
No, rather they are full of all his emotions.
The ones the words tells him to bottle up, shove down, hide away.
It’s his confidence
His desperation
His embarrassment.
But most of all-
Those tears are his anger.
He knows what he wants to say, what he wants to shout.
His mouth just will not form the words, no matter how hard he tries.
His tears are full of unspoken phases, evidence of his broken heart and the anger he holds inside.
Ones I know far to well. When someone we love and care about leave. With no return in sight. To be left wondering, “what if” and grieving that loss.
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wonder-worker · 4 months
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Anne de Pisseleu had exercised a form of power that was intrinsically extra-institutional and dependent entirely of the king’s favor; her role was clearly understood by political insiders. Criticism took the form of conventional hostility to the role of women in power, yet in the king’s lifetime had to be circumspect and oblique. However, she lived more than half her life after the death of the king whose love had given her power and wealth. In this, she weathered the storm of disgrace remarkably effectively, carved for herself a new role and ended her life a moderately wealthy woman whose assets became a matter for ferocious competition among her relatives.
-David Potter, "The Life and After-Life of a Royal Mistress: Anne de Pisseleu, Duchess of Étampes"
#historicwomendaily#Context: She lived for over 70 years and was a royal mistress for only 20 of them (till Francis's death)#anne de pisseleu#french history#16th century#my post#Francis I#queue#I hate how Anne is dismissed and deemed irrelevant after Francis I's death#Most historians merely claim that she was exiled; fell into disgrace and humiliation; and died in obscurity#Kathleen Wellman even goes to say that Anne was shut up by her husband in a gloomy castle for the rest of her life#(And there's always a distasteful tone of wry satisfaction as they say this - as if she was finally 'getting what she 'deserved')#Suffice to say: this idea is objectively incorrect and I hate it#yes Anne DOES seem to have had an incredibly harrowing and horrible experience for a few years after; that should never be overlooked#But as this article says: Anne managed to weather her 'fall' and carve a new role for herself extraordinarily well#It's one of the most interesting things about her life to me#She still had wealth and property which she rigorously administered and expanded; she headed family affairs and arranged marriages;#She and her terrible husband appear to have informally separated (with a formal separation of property) and in his own last will he#flat-out wrote that Anne 'would never take her place as my wife'. She outlived him by around 15 years and 100% got the last laugh.#She also openly embraced Protestantism in the height of the Wars of Religion which was such a major bad bitch move#guaranteeing her both personal protection and material gratification#In fact one of the last known references of her was in 1576 where she hosted a meeting of Protestant leaders in her castle of Challuau#As you can see: Anne transitioned public royal influence to private personal power#But she clearly remained at the heart of politics and war throughout it all and was always relevant
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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months
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i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((
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Banner picture credit: @661ave
possession
noun
the state of having, owning, or controlling something.
Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint.  A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)
He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.
And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none. 
He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.
He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any. 
Family, or friends, that is.
When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?
It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute. 
There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need? 
Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir. 
She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…
And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.
She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven. 
He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?
He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago. 
It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus. 
He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy. 
When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away. 
It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home. 
Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard. 
It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.
His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.
It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube. 
Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.
He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her? 
And god, how he would fuck her… 
Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…
He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob. 
He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.
"Scheisse–"
He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.  
She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.
He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.
She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.
She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of. 
Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.
Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things? 
But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.
He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.
With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all. 
There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.
What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?
He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.
He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job. 
The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.
Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.
So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up. 
She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…
She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.
"I got you something... Merry Christmas."
"Aw… You shouldn't have…"
She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.
"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." 
He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.
He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb. 
Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for… 
"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically. 
Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present. 
Well, shit. Fuck.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."
"That’s nice to hear." 
"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."
He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.
"You already got me Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, but… You paid for them."
"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"
He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.
"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways. 
"I truly did."
She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.
"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying. 
"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."
She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.
"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."
"...What does that mean?" 
"It means 'Happy New Year'."
"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"
Shit.
Shit.
Shit…
"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."
She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.
"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.
"Something naughty."
Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too. 
"Really…?"
"Yes."
"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."
Playful, naughty, dirty. 
She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.
Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening? 
"I want to lick your pussy."
There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.
"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"
"Ja."
It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.
Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress. 
With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.
When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.
"Go ahead then," she whispers.
He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.
She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.
It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips. 
Mein.
Mein.
Mein…
He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.
Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.
And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.
He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin. 
"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"
He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries. 
To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.
"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"
She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams. 
The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin. 
Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined. 
Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.
And he's only about to fuck her…
"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.
"Oh–oh god…"
Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds. 
"Wait–"
"I will fuck you now."
"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"
She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for. 
"Hm. I don't have any."
"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child... 
But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.
Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...? 
How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?
She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft. 
"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.
She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go. 
"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"
"I am."
He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.
And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.
He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.
"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."
Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove. 
"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"
It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.
"Ok…" 
"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"
"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"
The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.
"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.
"O‐oh…?"
"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."
"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"
If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness. 
"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."
He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had. 
He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely. 
"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"
"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"
Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.
He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog. 
"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"
He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck. 
She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.
"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"
She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.
"Will you stay? For the night…?"
His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content. 
"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”
She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity. 
She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.
“I'm sorry..."
"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.
For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.
He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…
She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.
She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.
He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.
It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.
The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women. 
When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.
"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."
There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.
And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.
"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"
She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…
"Liebling... Me too."
"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."
"Oh I fear a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like… flying, for example."
"But you fly all the time?"
"Exactly."
She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…
"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."
She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.
If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one. 
"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"
"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"
"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."
She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in. 
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.
What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs. 
This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him. 
"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.
"...What?" 
He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.
"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.
"What do you mean.”
She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.
"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."
He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.
"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."
Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.
So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…
And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy. 
But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…
"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"
"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."
"Well, neither am I."
He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.
"No one is."
"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes. 
"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."
"Liebling…"
"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"
"Of course."
She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets. 
He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his. 
Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…
And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.
But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.
"Are you still afraid?"
He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness. 
"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."
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withleeknow · 3 months
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happy place.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; unedited, just me being self-indulgent and word vomitting again word count: 0.8k listen to 🎧: you are in love - taylor swift
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
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one of your favorite things that minho does is when he drops everything just to hug you. unprompted, out of nowhere.
you like to call these sporadic moments your silent hug time.
it started not too long ago, maybe a few months back, on a random sunday afternoon while you were all snuggled up with soonie on the couch and lazily flipping through the pages of the book you were reading. it had been gloomy and miserable all day; you and minho were supposed to drive to the beach and soak up the last rays of summer sun before fall announced its arrival.
the weather had other plans though. no more beach day, that was for sure.
your boyfriend quietly walked into the room, not saying a word as he grabbed the novel in your hands, slid your bookmark into place and unceremoniously dropped the book onto the carpeted floor. soonie was promptly handled - much more gently - and placed somewhere next to the couch, which earned minho a controlled hiss before the cat just wandered elsewhere in the house seeing that your cuddle session was so rudely interrupted.
you’d learned not to question why minho did the things he did or how that peculiar brain of his worked, so you just quietly watched him with a puzzled look on your face, curious to see what he would do next.
you didn’t know what you expected, but to have him quite literally flop onto your body, pinning you underneath him as he rested his head on your chest, was definitely not something you had in mind.
“you good?” you asked, threading your fingers through his hair to play with the soft floofy mess, holding him close to your heart.
minho just hummed in response as he hugged you tightly. he didn’t sound upset or anything; there was nothing for you to worry about.
he then stayed in the same position for roughly fifteen minutes before pushing himself off of you. “recharged. thanks,” he announced curtly, pressing an appreciative kiss to your lips and leaving the room without an explanation.
that’s kind of how it became a thing. minho would randomly surprise you with silent hug time every now and then, always without warning and reasoning. you suppose that he does it whenever he wants a little boost of energy and affection, whenever he feels down and needs a little pick-me-up, or simply whenever he just wants to be close to you for a while before returning to his day. to “recharge,” as he would call it. it doesn’t even matter what you're doing when he wants it; any time can be silent hug time.
you’re making dinner? not anymore. minho already has the stove turned off before holding you hostage between his body and the kitchen counter, his arms around you keeping you flush against him.
you just got back from grocery shopping and the ice cream needs to be put in the freezer? nope, minho doesn’t give a shit about that. your two tote bags full of produce and snacks can stay on the floor for all he cares. all that matters to him the second you walked through the front door is bombarding you with a bear hug and flooding his senses with the scent of your shampoo and the perfume he loves most on you.
you’re both running late to changbin’s housewarming party? too bad. what minho wants, minho gets and minho gets right now. you can only sigh in defeat as his hands slide around your waist to pull you to him, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck where he gives you a quick kiss there. you wrap your arms around his neck, turning occasionally to press your lips against his temple. changbin will definitely be fussy about your tardiness, but if you’re being totally honest, he’s lucky that you’re able to drag minho there at all.
in all fairness, it’s cute. it’s wonderfully endearing and such a minho thing to do. in true minho fashion, he would rather manhandle you and let your ice cream melt than tell you that he wants a hug, because god knows that minho would never willingly admit it on his own.
nevertheless, even if you you might not be able to hear him ask a simple question like “can i get a hug?” in this lifetime, you still have the privilege of being the one he goes to when he needs peace and comfort, and his actions speak more than his words ever could.
minho thinks of you first because he associates you with nothing but goodness. because you’re his happy place. you’re the calm amidst every storm, the safe harbor he can always return to when he needs shelter. every pretty color he sees and every beautiful adjective in his vocabulary? that’s all you.
to minho, you aren’t even synonymous with love. you are love.
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permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz1skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin (italicized = can’t tag)
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 09.02.2024]
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 11 months
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Let's play a little game | Ethan Landry x Reader
Summary: You get a phone call from a masked ID when you’re home alone…
Word count: 2k
Warnings: smut, fingering, p + v action, ambiguous consent, home invasion, cheating,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You looked at your reflection in the mirror as you brushed your hair, admiring how hot your body looked in those small shorts and cami. The rumors were true, you really looked your best in your early adulthood. You posed, making sure all your curves were in a flattering angle, and sent a picture to your boyfriend. It was a bummer Chad was away in Woodsboro for the weekend when you looked that good.
After exchanging some naughty texts with Chad, you called Tara if she wanted to come over and watch horror movies. The weather had been gloomy and cold all day, which was perfect for the occasion.
‘’If you had called me two hours ago, I would be running over in my pajamas and bringing along my fuzzy blanket, but I may have gotten a call from a certain brunet from my film class and agreed to go on a date…tonight.’’ Tara covered her mouth to stifle her excitement, but you could hear it in her voice.
A smile bloomed on your lips, excited for your friend. ‘’Oh my god! He did?’’
‘’Yes.’’ On the other side of the line, Tara paused, her head full of Tyler. ‘’I’m so nervous. It’s my first date ever.’’
‘’It’ll be okay, T,’’ you reassured her. ‘’And if he turns out to be a jerk, excuse yourself to the bathroom and send me a text. I’ll call you and fake an emergency.’’
Tara promised, then hung up to finish getting ready for her date. She needed to leave before Sam got home and asked a plethora of questions. Maybe she’ll do a full search on Tyler to make sure he’s not a crazy Stab fanatic like her own ex-boyfriend.
You were about to shoot a text to Anika, but your phone rang again. This time, the caller ID was masked.
You answered with a frown.
‘’Hello?’’ a distorted male voice said.
Your frown deepened. ‘’Eh, shouldn’t I be the one saying ‘hello’?’’
‘’Who is this?’’
‘’Who are you trying to reach?’’
‘’I don’t know.’’ There was a short silence, then the man spoke again. ‘’Do you like scary movies?’’
‘’Yeah.’’ You took a body-spray from your vanity desk and spritzed a little on you, smiling when the sweet caramel scent filled the air.
‘’What’s your favorite scary movie?’’
You took a moment to think. ‘’Probably Jennifer’s Body. Does that count? It’s more of a horror comedy, but I’ve watched it a thousand times.’’
The stranger hummed. ‘’The one with the hot chick that eats her best friend’s boyfriend?’’
‘’Yes!’’
‘’Speaking of boyfriend, do you have a boyfriend?’’
‘’Why? You want to ask me out on a date?’’ you joked, fixing the pendant of your necklace that had flipped over.
‘’Maybe.’’
‘’If you want to ask someone out on a date, calling on a masked ID is not the best way. It gives off stalker vibes.’’
‘’I’m not a stalker.’’
‘’How can I know you’re not?’’
‘’If I were a stalker, I would tell you how hard my cock is just from looking at you in those pajamas.’’
You gulped uncomfortably, standing from your vanity chair and going to your window to peer through the curtains to see if anyone was outside. You were on the tenth floor. How would anyone get up there from the outside? It didn’t make sense.
But it was the only window in your bedroom…
‘’I…I’m gonna hang up. I need to take my dog out.’’
It was a lie. You didn’t have a dog, but the stranger on the other end didn’t know that.
‘’Don’t hang up on me!’’ he yelled at you.
You did anyway.
Seconds later, the phone rang again. Fuck.
‘’Why are you calling again?’’ you snapped at the caller, not bothering to check the ID. You knew it was him.
‘’To apologize, of course.’’
‘’Okay. You did. Now bye.’’ You pulled the phone away from your ear, but the man yelled at you.
‘’If you hang up again, I’ll come inside and gut you!’’
The threat was stronger and starting to scare you, but you couldn’t let him know.
‘’You’re bluffing,’’ you said, praying your voice wouldn’t falter. ‘’I’m on a high floor. You can’t get to me.’’
‘’From the outside, no. But who said I’m not already inside.’’
Fear settled in your guts as your phone buzzed with a text message. A picture. Someone in a Ghostface mask standing in your bedroom. He had a knife in his hand and you had a feeling it wasn’t a fake one.
When was this taken? And where was he now?
You searched your vanity for something to use as a weapon. There was a ton of makeup, a few perfume bottles, your hairbrush — all useless. Then your eyes fell on your manicure scissors. You used them a few nights ago to cut a thread from a shirt. They were small but pointy. It could injure your stalker.
Scissors tight in your hand, you stood from your chair and ventured to your living area. It was a very small apartment. The living room and kitchen were merged into the same room and all the lights were off. You turned the main light on, illuminating the whole room, but saw no one.
The curtains were closed. They were tall and thick enough for someone to hide behind.
Putting your fictive big-girl pants on, you walked to the window to check, but jumped and when you heard the distorted voice in your ear.
‘’Let’s play a little game. I say something and you do as I say….or else I’ll use that sharp knife on you. Got it?’’
You gulped and nodded. A part of you wanted to call the cops and signal a home invasion, but if your intruder was already inside, they would never get to you on time. Even at night, New York traffic was a nightmare.
‘’Take those little shorts off. I want to see those lacey panties you have on underneath.’’
You didn’t want to, but you reached for your small dolphin shorts anyway. You weren’t shy with your body, but getting undressed for a stranger to jerk off to you made you stomach churn. Your fingers touched your waistband, about to pull your shorts down, but stopped when you remembered you were not wearing anything under.
‘’I-I'm not wearing any.’’
‘’Don't lie to me. I can see those tiny shorts from here.’’
You looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was hiding. Your bedroom window was already out of the options. Your bed was a box and your closet and the bathroom door were shut. Where the hell was he hiding?
‘’Not the shorts,’’ you corrected. ‘’The panties.’’
‘’Naughty girl.’’
You should be disgusted, but you found yourself blushing — and slightly turned on — at the creepy stranger's words. Was it the Ghostface mask that was suddenly having this effect on you? You did feel a strange liking to the masked killers when you watched horror movies.
‘’Strip.’’
You fumbled to push your dolphin shorts down and out of the way, exposing yourself bare.
‘’Now go back to your room, get on the bed and sit against the pillows.’’
You did as told and leaned back into your pillows, but kept your knees closed. You could sense where this was going. Men loved to watch a girl touch herself. If you look at their internet history, you’ll find a ton of porn videos of women touching themselves.
He tutted you. ‘’Don't try to hide. Spread your legs. I want to see.’’
You knew you shouldn’t part your legs, but your arousal was getting stronger at every instruction. It’s like he had casted a spell on you and you were helpless to disobey him.
God, you should be disgusted with yourself. How could you be turned on by a masked intruder in a Ghostface mask asking you to strip and give him a free view of your intimate parts?
Shutting your subconscious, you parted your legs and exposed yourself, shivering when you felt the cool air of the room.
You heard a groan in your ear. ‘’That’s a beautiful pussy. Show me how wet you are for me.’’
Your free hand slid down your body and to your mound, then lower. You sighed as you reached your folds, spreading them and showing the way your lips glistened with wetness.
‘’Am I wet enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked into the room, sliding your finger up and down your folds a couple of times.
‘’Why don’t you stick a finger inside? Play with yourself for me.’’
A soft moan slipped from your lips as you did, your finger sliding easily. You thrusted in slowly, then out, and repeated. The pace was too slow for your personal liking, but you knew how to tease and turn on a partner. Watching a video of your fingers sinking in and out of yourself, coated with your arousal had made your boyfriend cum in his dorm bed many times.
But let’s not talk about Chad now.
You added a second finger and caught your bottom lip between your teeth when you curled them. You wish you had your pink vibrator for your clit, but your other hand was occupied holding your phone.
‘’Mmh, you’re making me so fucking hard right now.’’
‘’Are you touching yourself to the sight of me, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked, bringing your thumb to your clit and rubbing.
A distorted whimper came from the other side of the line. He was.
The sensations from your touches were sending fuzzy tingles from your neck to your dripping pussy, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more.
‘’Is that all you’re going to do? Are you going to just watch me fuck myself for your own pleasure like a selfish asshole…or are you going to come and fuck me?’’
The line went dead and all the lights went off, sending chills down your spine. You removed your fingers, unsure if this was part of the game or not.
‘’Hello?’’ you called into the darkness of your bedroom. ‘’Is someone there?’’
It was stupid to ask, having seen enough horror movies to know what happens to characters who ask that very question.
The light returned with a static noise and you jumped when seeing a tall Ghostface figure standing at the end of your bed, watching you intently. He pounced on your bed like a lion on his prey, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you toward him.
A deafening scream left your throat, thinking he was going to kill you. Instead, he parted your thighs and lifted his robe, his pants already down to his thighs and his hard cock out. He wasted no time, thrusting himself between your wet folds and splitting your cunt open as you moaned out loud.
‘’You like being filled with my cock, uh? You unfaithful little whore!’’ the distorted voice said, grabbing your hips and pounding into you. ‘’Getting fucked by someone else while her boyfrined is away in California.’’
Unfortunately, you couldn't deny it. This cock felt fucking amazing.
You pushed all thoughts of Chad to the back of your head. You’ll figure this out later.
Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the man between your legs.
The sounds that rang from your throat were nothing short of obscene, mouth hanging open helplessly while he wrecked your pussy, his cock slick with the evidence of your arousal. You clawed at your sheets, your back arching from the bed from the intense pleasure filling your whole body.
Moans and grunts mixed with wheezings came from underneath the mask. Breathing must not be easy under the rubber mask. You reached out and took it off, gasping in shock when seeing who was underneath.
Ethan?!
You opened your mouth to speak, but he threw your legs over his shoulders and you cried out at the change of angle, not caring that your boyfriend’s roommate was fucking you.
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys
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aajjks · 7 months
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Lovers (m)
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synopsis. you love him so much. You’ll die if he ever leaves you.
warnings.YÄNDËRË CÖNTËNT, mätůrè cöntënt, ünhëälthy rëlätïönshïp, pösëssïvënëss, yändêrê nöönä, sůggëstïvë cöntënt, 18+ cöntënt.
note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!! I’m getting old but send in asks? SHARE FEEDBACK AND ENJOY. *not edited*
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Even just looking at him makes you feel calm.
You’re not sure about how you got so lucky to stumble upon jungkook three years ago, but you are so glad that you found him, maybe it was destiny.
Maybe it was destiny’s plan to bring you two together, maybe it was your destiny’s way to make up for all the bad things that happened in your life by bringing Jungkook in your life.
And he is the best thing in your life.
Sometimes you cannot believe that he’s yours and that he loves you so much. The question often lingers in your mind that why does he love you so much? What is it that makes him so crazy about you? Why is he so obsessed with you?
And when you ask him that question you only get one answer.
“because I was made to love you.” he says it without hesitation every single time, His brown bambi eyes full of love, and honesty.
The way he looks at you every time every single day it makes your heart clench in your chest, how can someone love you this much?
His love for you has you addicted. You don’t think you can live without his love anymore, you need his attention you crave it every single moment of the day.
He’s got you, so used to this.
He Is standing with you watching the neighbors as they move in, the wind is so clear, hitting your face, he is holding your hand, so tightly so focused on that woman who carries those boxes.
You’re focused on him instead gazing at him, his innocence, is the best thing about him, the way he gets so curious about the littlest things it makes you so happy, he’s like a child almost in an adult body.
“Noona, do you think I should help that girl carry the boxes? I mean it would be kind of me don’t you think? And they’re our neighbors, so maybe I should go and help her?”
That pulls you out of your thoughts, you process his words, and it almost makes you annoyed. “but why Baby? I think that elderly man is enough and I don’t think you need to go and help her.”
Sometimes it makes you angry too that how kind he can be and how naïve he is, He makes you feel so territorial, you’re so possessive about him it scares you.
As you gaze up forward to see the woman you take your time to notice her appearance, she looks pretty young, that blonde hair, and those green eyes.. you are pretty sure they’re green, her nose is almost perfect, and her lips look pretty.
You don’t like that. Insecurity immediately bubbles up in your chest. You sigh as you looked at her. Jungkook hums an okay and shrugs.
“come on baby let’s go inside I don’t like the weather anymore.”
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it’s been a few days since your neighbors have moved in, you see the pretty girl, occasionally when you go out for work, it is ridiculous how pretty she is, she manages to look flawless, even at 7 AM in the morning.
You notice everything about her.
And you’re pretty sure that Jungkook does too.
And now you’re sitting at home, exhausted and insecure.
“Noona, why are you so quiet today? I missed you so much and you just came home showered and now you’re just sitting so quietly you didn’t even kiss me today… did I do something wrong?”
you blink twice as you see him stare at you with a gloomy expression and pouty lips.
“Tell me kookie.” You clear your throat. Crossing your arms on your chest you look at him with a serious expression, and he nods eagerly.
“Ask me anything I’ll tell you anything just talk to me.” He looks at you so desperately, his lips are quivering, “fine.”
“do you find her attractive?”
You don’t even know why you asked him this question,
but it was eating you up inside she’s way more beautiful than you can ever be. You’re also getting older. You don’t even feel like celebrating your birthday anymore
You’ve become so insecure in the span of three years, ever since he came into your life. He’s so beautiful, so handsome and so young.
What is he doing here with you?
Are you holding him back?
“I mean, she’s your age she’s beautiful she seems happy too… she is perfect. Do you like her?”
You stand up, suddenly, and look at him, borrowing your eyes into his. Your bunny boy stares up at you with his eyes completely caught off guard, his mouth is wide, with shock in his eyes, they get glossy
“Tell me Jungkook. Is noona not enough for you anymore?” Your heart feels like it will sink. You feel sick. The insides of your stomach are doing flips you’re not sure if you want to hear the answer what if he says yes he is tired of you?
What if he says yes, that he wants to be with her or he finds her attractive? The silence is eating you up yet you are not ready to hear his answer.
God you feel sick.
The jealousy is eating you from the inside, you haven’t felt hungry in so many days you can’t sleep because whenever you try to sleep the thought of him with her together fuck with your mind..
And she visits your house often, always smiling with her perfect teeth sometimes bringing cookies or pies, and he opens the door every time, smiling back at her, accepting her treats.
“N-Noona w-what are you even- shhh.”
You silence him before he can complete his sentence. You stalk closer to him, your head hurts from all the thinking you’ve been doing these past days.
You cannot lose him.
No you can’t.
“I love you so much koo. I really do.” You stop, he listens to you carefully, his brown eyes surprised but he doesn’t interrupt you, “I love you so much.” You let the tears fall, your voice shakes.
These emotions are so intense.
“Y-You love noona too right? You’ll never leave me right?” You kneel down on your knees, he’s sitting on the couch, frozen, his eyes fixed on you.
You grab his thighs, your nails dig into his jeans. “Tell me now Jungkook!” He doesn’t speak; it is driving you insane.
He’s so stupid!
“Too bad, even if you will, you can’t leave me Jungkook.”
You start laughing, something switches inside you.
You take your hands off him, “I’ll lock you up.”
Jungkook stands up and leans down so he can sit down infront of you.
“Really? What are you gonna do? Tell me noona.”
Your laughter stops.
You bite the inside of your cheek, you’re so confused right now, he’s breaking your heart.
“Tell me what are you going to do to me?”
“YOU ARE MINE. I’ll lock you up and never let you go.”
“You were actually right Jungkook. You were made to love me. Only me..” he listens to you so intently, you can hear how his panicked breathing matches with yours, none of you speak another word.
He closes the distance between you, you can feel his breath on your face and the rapid heartbeat, it’s synchronized.
“tell me that you love me please I need to hear it… please baby…” you beg him, your emotions are a mess. You’re not sure if this is because of lack of sleep or your insecurities
Jungkook looks at you with a weird dark hue in his eyes, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, it is frustrating you to know, and that he’s refusing to say anything.
It feels like years, and it’s been only a few seconds. His silence is like torture to you.
You start crying once again, are your hands cover your face and you let it all out.
And that is, until he finally says it.
“oh, I love you so much, noona, fuck… I love you so much.”
Before you can even look at him, he grabs your face and pulls it even closer to his, he takes one of your hands in his hand and guides it towards his crotch.
“Look at what you’ve done to me.”
He presses your hands onto his crotch and you feel his hardness against your hand.
“You’ve no idea how hot you sounded going all crazy… all for me, noona… fuck.. wish I could relive it over and over again..”
“But you have no reason to be insecure, because this heart beats only for you. Like I’ve said before, I was only made to love you.”
Jungkook presses his lips on yours, taking your breath away with how passionate it is, “my noona, my pretty noona.”
You kiss him back immediately and climb up on his lap, he shakes his hands around your body and you feel him shake.
“I love you so much… I love you alot.” He mumbles between your kiss, your fingers play with his hair as he unbottons your shirt impatiently.
“We’re each others forever, mark me noona, so no one can even think of me, without you.” It feels so good to kiss him, to be his embrace.
To hear him confess his undying love for you.
“I just wanted to hear hor much you loved me noona, she cannot ever take your place.. I don’t even remember her name.. I only remember you.”
“We’ll be lovers forever.”
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imaginaryf1shots · 7 months
Text
Fan Favourite Moments | Lewis Hamilton
Words count:
Lewis Hamilton x reader
Summery: just some of the fans favourite moments of you and Lewis.
warning: not edited, none
Masterlist
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Kissing in the rain
This race week is set in Spa and the weather condition isn’t the best, it’s forecasted to rain a lot as you go through weekend, but at the moment it’s sunny. The sun is up that it makes you think that there’s noway it’ll rain but you’ve been to too many races and places to know that. Mother nature is very indecisive with mood swings so bad you want to know if she’s okay. Anyways Lewis hasn’t done his track walk yet, so he went around looking for you, finishing you in a corner in the garage with Susie, she was telling you about her plans with women in sport and what they’re working on to change their role in the sport.
You looked concentrated, you were so into the conversation he almost felt bad for breaking the conversation, but if you wanted to come with him then now’s the best time to go and take advantage of the weather. You were already dressed in running shoes and sports trousers ready for the walk, you talked about the day before.
“Sorry to interrupt, but (y/n) do you wanna come on a track walk with me?” Lewis asked if you changed his mind, that’ll be okay with him even if he wanted you to come. It’s been a couple weeks since you last saw each other because of schedule conflict.  
“Go,go, we’ll continue talking later.” Susie said straight away waving you off. “We spend most of the time together anyway.”
“Okay, but we’re definitely continuing later.” Waving bye to her, you lace your hands with Lewis, as you leave the garage.
“Here I got you this.” Lewis said and gave you a jacket he had in his other hand, you let go of his hand and he helped you put it on, it’s one of his jackets that were waterproof, but provided warmths. 
“Thanks.” You say with a satisfied smile, Lewis smiled down at you, he found you so cute with you engulfed in his jacket looking cosy and warm. Lacing your hands once again you start your walk down the pitlane and the track. It wasn’t the most athletic walk, you were just walking at a slow pace. You were telling Lewis about how his fans turned you into a grid mum online, gathering all the cute moments you had through the years you’ve been with Lewis. You were very animated as you told him about the memes and what not, even showing him a couple that you saved on your phone. It was over halfway through the track that it started to get gloomy and dark. “So much for the sun.”
“To be fair if we walked faster we would’ve been done by now.” Lewis said looking up at the sky as you walked, the clouds were dark and heavy looking.
“True but I like having those slow walks with you, especially when we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” You pout as you say this, Lewis wraps his arm around your shoulder sideways, and yours goes around his middle.
“I do too, you know some would argue that two weeks aren’t that long of a time to not have seen each other.” Lewis said and you shake your head scoffing. “I’m not saying that, because you know I hate spending a day without seeing you.”
“You know that some wou;d argue that that’s not healthy and that this is attachment issues.” You fire back and Lewis laughs, you fight the smile creeping onto your face. “I’m not saying that, I for one love that, my only complain is that sometimes I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me.”
“And you love your sleep.”
“I love my sleep.” you felt it then the first drop hitting your face making you flinch slightly, looking up, it’s like heavens doors just opened and you’re both wet in seconds, pulling up your hood, Lewis does the same, you could see the pitlane from where you walked. “We should hurry up.”
“Wait for a second.” You were confused, Lewis stopped walking and held your wrist to halt your walking before you faced him, he had his head tilted back, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the rain.
“Lew, you can get sick my love.” You warn him thinking of his health. 
“Just a moment.” He answered, your worry visible on your face but he couldn’t see it with his eyes closed. You take in the peaceful look on his face, and find yourself smiling. This Lewis is your favourite Lewis, the one only you and close friends and family get to see. Slowly you move your arms around his middle pressing yourself against him, but your head was back to look at your boyfriend. Lewis opens his eyes and looks at you, water was running down your hoodie and you both were getting wetter and wetter. However you looked so good to him right now, so carefree and smiley. 
So you can't blame him for not resisting, his hand cups your cheek before he's pulling you in for a kiss. You squeak surprised, Lewis is a very private person and isn't big on PDA, so kissing while there are cameras possibly around is usually a thing when he's winning. You don't hesitate once you get over the shock to kiss him back your hands holding his jacket tighter. The kiss doesn't last long, and it isn't a deep kiss but it was filled with love and passion. It left you warm and tingly, with butterflies in your stomach, how he still gives you butterflies after all those years you'll never know. 
Cameras catch the kiss from the pitlane the long lenses capture the moment between you two. And even though you hate how much cameras are always in your face the pictures from that day you have saved on your phone.(maybe even framed in your Monaco house? 
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Training
It really was just a  series of videos he posted to his story.
Story 1. He told his fans that you were going to try and train like him, you could be seen in the background stretching in your gym wear.
Story 2. It was easy, just some cardio, you were all smiley giving the camera thumps up and everything.
Story 3. You move to goblet squats, you’re again doing okay no thumps up but you’re okay.
Story 4. Deadlifts. Of course all the training you’re doing is fitted for your body and your limits, but you don’t really do deadlifts while you’re in the gym. So you’re frowning while LEwis is hyping you up, you managed to do them but sweat is appearing faster and faster now.
Story 5. It starts with you complaining that you can’t even do press ups, much less dumbbell press ups. Yeah… you only managed to do five and Lewis was generous with his counting. 
Story 6. You’re laying on the ground breathing heavily and refusing to move. You glare at Lewis when he tells you what you have to do next. 
Story 7. You’ve given up, sitting on the ground, your back to the wall, knees bent and your water bottle in your hand. Lewis was amused but he praised you for what you’ve done. 
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Helmet kiss
You didn’t mean for it to happen, it wasn’t planned really. But you found yourself kissing Lewis’ helmet every time you were at a race from the start of your relationship. After and before every race it just became something that you always did. He’d have his visor up and you could see his eyes in a smile. It was something for the both of you, for you to show Lewis that you’re proud of him, that you’re there for him, even when he didn’t win or wasn’t on a podium you always kissed his helmet or him to be honest, if there were cameras or there weren't any.
Getting pulled in an interview by the reporter
Media days, usually are the days you spend the most time with Lewis on track. All the time between interviews and breaks he had, it gave you enough time, and you were able to stand with the Merc staff behind camera and watch him.
And so here you are, media day after a week off between racing, Lewis was pulled into an interview in pitlane, you were standing off camera watching him with his PR manager.
“We just saw you last week at Milan fashion week,” The interviewer said, just last week you both were in Milan and attended a few shows and walked a couple red carpets together. “Along with your girlfriend y/n, are times like this you spend destressing or just taking time off away from racing”  
“I mean yeah, it’s always fun to spend time away and have a break and it’s something we’re both interested in.” Lewis kept it short and sweet, but the interviewer had other things on her mind.
“You both looked amazing, actually we have y/n here.” She said and the camera turned around and panned to you, you had a startled look on your face for a split second before you smiled and waved to the camera. “Come here y/n, come on.”
Timidly you walked to your boyfriend’s open arm, you wrapped an arm around his waist, while his rested on your back. 
“y/n tell us, you spend so much time on the road with Lewis, what is something that you both like to do that helps you take a break from formula 1?”
“Uh, I don’t know, because once we’re off track we usua;;y just do something fun and don’t think much about formula 1.” You looked at Lewis for confirmation and he gave you a smile of encouragement. “It’s our way of not letting it consume us, and I do a lot of my work on the road as well, so we just have time off around the races and do something we like.” 
“That’s lovely, it’s great to have some stability in each other, lewis?”
“Definitely, having y/n with me gives me a sense of stability, and just having her with me helps me a lot.” You just couldn’t fight the smile on your face hearing his words, because you both sacrificed so much for his job, and if there is ever moments where you’d think maybe it’s too much or you can’t push back any of the things you want in life, you remember how happy you are with him and how sacrificing some things is okay, every relationship has some sacrifices and you’re okay with that. The highs are really good and you’ve managed to go through all the lows together, the support you have for the other is really one of the foundations to your relationship.
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Driving
It’s a well known and documented fact that you can drive, and you love driving and that you’re actually a very good driver. But no matter what you’re not a super car driver. Mercedes thought it’ll be good idea to film a video of you driving a car in Silverstone, with Lewis in the passenger seat before you switch. 
You’re not used to being in those kind of things, yes you have sealed with your fair share of paparazi and media but not in a video where you had to be miked up and everything. So you were a little nervous, Lewis saw your eyes as they ran over all the cameras and filming crew, your eyes were the only indication that you were nervous. Walking up to you he smiles, you were dressed in a Mercedes race suit, matching his. Even your helmet was the same as his, he had it made for you. 
“Are you okay?” Lewis asked you, shielding you away from everyone’s view. 
“Yeah, just a little nervous.” You mumbled and pouted as you looked up at your man leaning into him slightly, Lewis pulled you in for a hug.
“It’s okay, the moment you want to end this and not film just tell me and we’ll end it.” Lewis reassured you, he wouldn't want to pressure you into doing anything you didn’t want to do. 
“No, I’m powering through this, nerves never stopped me before.” You winked at him and smiled, you remembered the first time you met Lewis how nervous he made you it almost made it hard to talk to him but you pushed the nerves aside and talked to him and here you are now, so happily in love. 
You got called to start filming, both Lewis and you stood next to each other in front of the camera, as someone introduced you.
“Driving with Lewis is his girlfriend, (y/n) (l/n)!” You smiled and nodded to the camera trying to keep your cool, Lewis placed a comforting hand on your back. “(Y/n) will take a turn driving around the track first before they switch and Lewis will drive.”
“Am I allowed an out lap to get the track?” YOu asked raising a hand, you’ve walked it before with Lewis, but you haven’t drove it.
“Sure.”
With that you got in the driver’s side and LEwis in the passenger. “This is familiar.” You say once you were in, meaning that you almost always drive when it’s the two of you. 
“Let’s go!” Lewis was excited, he wanted to see what you got. You never sped up or drove over the speed limit, so seeing you driving fast is going to be something new to him. 
“You have to give me some tips.” YOu said as you turned on the car and started driving, you were taking it easy not fast and not slow, a happy 80km/h. Lewis then pointed to where you should break where you can speed up. Once you had a lap around the track, your actual lap started. 
Speeding up, you were so focused on the road in front of you. “Break here, here.”
“You go, love.” “Speed up!” “Babe that was amazing.”
You laughed as you slowed down for the end of the lap, Lewis held his palm up and you high fived him. “We should get you a seat at Mercedes.”
“Shut up… this was super fun.” You said unbuckling your seat belt and opened the door before you two switched places. 
“Ready?” 
“Ready.” 
You were not ready, Lewis pressed his foot down on the paddle and off you were.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” For some reason you didn’t expect the car to go that fast. At least not that fast straight away. You clutched the door and the seat tightly your knuckles turned white. Lewis was laughing. “Lewis!”
“Hold tight.” He said before he pulled the handbrake and turned, your body was pushed to the side of the car, making you scream. 
“Lewis, lewis, lewis, babe, please-aaah.” He was showing off, he was, breaking late, accelerating faster, using the car as if he was racing and in his F1 car.
“Okay, okay.” He slowed down for a bit, and you sighed in relief, Lewis looked at you grinning.
“I’m not going to even tell you to look at the road.” You muttered shaking your head, Lewis laughed before pressing his foot down and once again you went flying down the track. 
By the end of the TWO laps, you knew one thing for certain. “This is why I drive us around and not you.” 
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Road-trip 
It's a well known fact that Lewis hates driving when he's not racing, He's said it before a million times. So all the cars the both of you own are basically your cars. Lewis is a passenger princess and you absolutely love it. 
Even though you have your own money and make a good living, Lewis loves spoiling you and doing everything in his power to make it so you need nothing, craving some dessert you have in Italy you got it. Saw some bag in the passing and asked him what he thinks about it, you got it. Want to try a new hobby, you got the top of the art supplies. Anywhere you want to just think it and he'll book it straight away. Its not that you can't do all that, he just loves spoiling you, simple as that. And its not to say that you don't spoil him as well, but there's something about driving him around that makes you so happy. 
"Let's go princess." You called out the car, the windows were down, and Lewis was checking that you had everything you needed before you hit the road. The GPS was already set up, your sunglasses were on and you were itching to get going. 
"Haha, just making sure we have everything." Lewis said before he got in the car, he had his glasses on, you both were dressed very casually, you'll be in the car for a while so looks weren't important. "You look so happy." 
You couldn't help the smile on your face as you pulled from the building. "Yeah, you know I've been wanting to do this for a couple years now."
"I'm glad you're happy." Lewis said with a smile. They can now relax after a long season flying and being everywhere, Lewis thoughts its the best time to have a road trip from your home in Monaco to the UK. As much as Lewis hates driving on normal road with normal speeds you love it, this idea has been on your mind for years, so the moment Lewis suggested that you do it you jumped at the chance. 
Driving through France and seeing the country from a different perspective than what the both of you are used to, and just spending time with him away from everyone else for a few days.
The music was on and you both had your windows down and singing softly along to the music. Lewis took a few photos of you, he couldn’t help but wanting to document the trip.
You guys made the 14 hour drive into a three or four day drive, spending afew hours on the road, before staying in a hotel/inn and going around sight-seeing. Both of you were severely underdressed than your usual selves, sporting sunglasses and hats to keep a low profile. Your hard effort did in fact pay off, no one was the wiser, and having a less known name than Lewis everything was booked under your name.
Lewis did post a few things on his insta story, making the fans go crazy. 
The first story he posted was from where you were singing, your hair flying everywhere, and he was hyping you up, the video ended with you both laughing. Both sounding and looking so happy.
The second picture was a selfie of himself enjoying being a passenger prince. He captioned the picture with a best passenger❤️
The second day you posted a picture of Lewis changing one of the tires, followed by a short video showing you in the middle of the countryside, with nothing to be seen around you. Honestly all of the content the fans were fed during the trip was enough to keep them satisfied for a while, before they were starved once again.
Lewishamilton
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caption: here we go!!
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caption: my fav view
Lewishamilton
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lewishamilton A trip I'll always remeber
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sister-lucifer · 3 months
Text
When It Rains
Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 
READ THE FIRST PART HERE 
READ PART THREE HERE
Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic
Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.
Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 
The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 
It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 
It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 
You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.
That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.
But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 
You don’t really have an answer to that. 
You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 
Now where do you go?
You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 
That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 
No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 
Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 
It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 
You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 
But you can’t. 
You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 
You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 
You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 
“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 
You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 
He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.
“…What’s up with you, kid?” 
You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 
“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”
You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 
“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”
It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 
“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”
He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 
“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 
“…Do I think what?” He asks. 
You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 
“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”
You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 
Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.
“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 
He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose
to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 
His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 
“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”
He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 
Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 
He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 
“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 
“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 
“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 
‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 
“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 
“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”
“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 
“…What did you say?” 
“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 
‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 
For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 
You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 
“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”
You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 
“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 
“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 
The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 
You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.
“Okay, yeah…I would.” 
You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 
“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 
That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 
“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.
“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”
Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 
“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”
What do you say to that? 
You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 
You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 
“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 
You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 
You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 
You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 
You’re alone again.
Now what? 
You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 
You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 
You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 
There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.
But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 
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jessamine-rose · 9 months
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‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙
Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞
Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping
Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains
♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡
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“He did what?”
“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”
“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.
“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”
Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.
The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?
“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”
As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.
“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”
You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”
In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?
“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”
“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”
She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.
There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.
“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”
Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”
Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.
If anything, you already miss him.
…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.
Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”
Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.
Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.
Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.
A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.
LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”
“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”
Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.
“At least it means I can delay the news.”
LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”
You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.
She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”
One line.
“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”
“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”
“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”
“I know.”
Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?
Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.
Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.
“How did she do it?”
“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.
You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”
“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”
“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”
“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”
Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.
The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.
It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.
…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.
After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.
Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.
Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.
When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.
Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.
The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.
You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.
After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.
…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.
The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.
Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.
If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.
“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.
She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”
“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”
“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories
So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~
Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>
Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0
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— after dark
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader
warnings: graphic descriptions of gore and violence, angst, self - injury
summary: the demon doesn't think herself deserving enough — every single time she touches wednesday, she does so with bated breath, as if the girl is made of porcelain
word count: 3.4k
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The Weather Wane tended to be crowded on weekend afternoons, but Wednesday found herself enjoying the calm atmosphere of the coffee shop, lucky enough to only share the space with some old couple and a few teenagers. She sat in the corner by the window, reading a copy of Dracula, the only sound accompanying her being the quite chatter of other patrons that she quickly tuned down and the shuffling of the yellowed pages when she turned them.
(Y/n), on the other hand, seemed restless. She was sitting next to Wednesday, having long since finished her coffee, her arm draped over the seat, brows furrowed as she glared daggers at the barista working behind the counter. The poor guy had already caught her death stare once or twice as he kept glancing at the pair, averting his eyes quickly with a small shiver before returning to scrubbing at the coffee machine nervously. It seemed like he had something to say to the small ravenette, but with the seething oni basically burning holes into him, growling intimidatingly, it was akin to sneaking over a garden fence that clearly had a ‘beware of the angry dog’ sign plastered over it.
It wasn't like (Y/n) had anything personal against Tyler, she supposed. He didn't seem like a bad guy — hell, he didn't seem like anything at all. There was nothing special or out of ordinary about him. But, as the oni's gaze flicked down to Wednesday's face, her mind started to drift.
What if ordinary was what was best for the gloomy girl?
She was into weird things, of course, but... Being with a human would've been much more safe for her. It would've been a balanced relationship, and she wouldn't have to deal with some of the demonic trais (Y/n) knew vexed Wednesday to no end. Humans did have their own exasperating habits too, but in no way could they be compared to eating raw meat, growling in one's sleep or turning into a ferocious beast every Blood Moon.
Wait. When had (Y/n)'s thoughts taken such a drastic turn? She didn't like wallowing in self — doubt. She was an oni from a powerful bloodline with strong heritage, no human could ever best that. Besides, that bloodline consisted of demons and samurais. She could definitely protect Wednesday when needed.
"(Y/n), are you listening?"
Snapping out of her daze, the oni tilted her head to look at the Addams girl who was plaguing her thoughts, “Hm?”
"I asked if you wanted to take the longer route back to Nevermore. Night would probably befall us half — way... I'll hold your hand so you don't get lost." Wednesday muttered softly, looking up from her book.
The oni grinned, hand moving to tuck a stray lock of raven hair behind Wednesday's ear, her clawed finger gently tracing the smaller girl's cheekbone before she pulled away, "Sure. That'd be great."
Yeah. Yeah, she was pretty great. Eat that, Tyler Galpin.
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"Have you decided on the movie yet, (Y/n)?"
The demon groaned at the question, draping her blanket over her head to try and avoid answering.
"I did not," came the muffled response, "I'm having a hard time finding something to your liking that's not going to make me fall asleep halfway through."
"I'll watch whatever you like. I don't care."
"But I do!" (Y/n) shook the fluffy blanket off, her (h/c) hair emerging disheveled, and looked up at the ravenette with a pout, "I want you to actually enjoy what you're watching, not have to sit it through for my sake."
"I really don't care." The ravenette emphasized.
The demon sighed, her clawed finger sliding over the touch pad as she scrolled through the catalogue,
"Fine. But don't complain when it's too cheesy or stupid for you."
It was always like this with Wednesday on movie nights — she'd insist she had no preference, then the second the movie (Y/n)'d choose started, she'd grumble about it. They had watched most of the good horror movies that existed, the girls' favorites being Silence of the Lambs, Saw and Carrie, but the oni's mood would sometimes long for something less macabre, much to Wednesday's displeasure.
Running her hands through her wet hair, the ravenette grabbed her brush and moved to sit on her side of the bed, squinting to take a better look at the screen.
"... Breakfast Club?" She read with a frown, and her gaze slid over to the demon's face, "Are you doing this on purpose?"
"But it's really good! And it has a cool dance scene I thought you might enjoy... " (Y/n) sighed, looking back at the laptop sadly, "Or, you know... We could always rewatch Pulp Fiction again if you want to."
Wednesday sighed tiredly before putting the brush on her nightstand, lying down next to (Y/n) and grabbing her arm to pull the limb to her chest, albeit a little roughly, entwining her slender fingers with the oni's.
"Start the movie." She mumbled finally.
"Wha— really?"
"Start the wretched movie before I change my mind, (Y/n)."
The demon grinned, snuggling closer to the grumpy ravenette. She clicked on the movie poster and pressed space, then rest her cheek on top of Wednesday's head, sighing in content.
"But next time we're watching Tusk."
"No, Wednesday."
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The first time Wednesday noticed it, she thought she was seeing things — maybe it had been the lighting, or her imagination playing tricks, but the ravenette didn't really pay it too much thought. She was used to visions haunting her, after all.
They were in class, a few minutes before their break would end, and (Y/n) sat backwards in her chair, elbows resting on the back as she talked to Enid and Yoko at the desk behind her, while Wednesday busied herself with her herbology assignment, having taken a habit of doing all her school stuff at least a week ahead.
At some point the lively conversation died, and the ravenette noticed it was just the vampire and the werewolf talking amidst themselves. (Y/n) was completely silent.
Turning in her seat to glance at the oni, Wednesday saw the demon looking back at her already, chin resting on her arms. Her head was titled a bit, and her (e/c) eyes glistened with fondness, but much to the smaller girl's surprise, the usual slits were absent — (Y/n)'s pupils were widened, taking up her whole sclera.
"Is something wrong?" Wednesday asked, a bit bashful under the gaze.
"No," (Y/n) denied through her lazy smile, "You're just really pretty. I like looking at you. Is that wrong?"
Color dusted Wednesday's pale cheeks lightly, and she turned back to her notes, "It's not, I suppose."
Huh. What an interesting trait. She wondered what the cause of it was.
It happened again when the girls were at Wednesday’s dorm, going over the ravenette’s investigation. (Y/n) was standing in the middle of the room, watching the smaller girl gesture at her hand – made chart, different photos of people, newspapers records and some of her own written notes were spread around the board, neatly arranged.
“Do you know what this means, (Y/n)?” She asked, pushing the papers into the demon’s hands, pointing at the picture, then walking back to her chart, “These are not just some mindless murders, he’s collecting trophies, like a seasoned serial killer. It’s quite impressive, actually.” Wednesday rambled heatedly before turning around to face the other girl, ready to hear her opinion on the case – but the oni wasn’t looking at the papers.
Her gaze was focused on the ravenette, a small grin on her lips, and her slit pupils were widened so much Wednesday swore she could see her own reflection in the orbs.
“... (Y/n). Are you listening?”
“Uh - huh. Yeah. Something something mindless murders, yeah...”
Coming up to stand before the taller girl, Wednesday snapped her fingers in front of her face, successfully waking her demon up from her daze.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm listening." (Y/n) blinked, looking down at the photographs in her hands, and Wednesday watched her pupils become slitted again.
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Wednesday hated making out. Everything about it was gross to the girl, from the unhygienic exchange of bacteria to the awful feeling of being so close to another living being. But making out with her demon girlfriend... That was something completely different, and Wednesday found it becoming a perfect stress relief, her favorite past – time activity, something to look forward every time they were alone.
(Y/n) sighed into Wednesday’s lips as her hold on the girl’s waist tightened, pulling her closer where Wednesday straddled her on the bed. The ravenette slid her palms up to the demon’s shoulders, then up her neck, cold fleeting touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, and rested her hands on her powerful jaw. She pulled away, a small string of saliva between their mouths, and her tongue licked over the demon’s big tusks. (Y/n) whined, making Wednesday smile.
When her gaze slid from the oni’s lips up to her eyes, she found the puzzling sight again – (Y/n)’s pupils wide and round as she watched Wednesday, dazed and breathing heavily. Pressing her hands to the girl’s cheeks, the ravenette leaned in to take a closer look.
“(Y/n), your eyes...” she said quietly, “Did you know they do this?”
“Huh?” the demon slurred in reply, not really focusing on the question, “Do what?”
“Your pupils, they get... bigger sometimes. Especially when... When you look at me...” Wednesday trailed off, the realisation hitting her suddenly.
It seemed like the same thing had happened to (Y/n), as the demon’s face turned red and she averted her gaze, draping an arm over her eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
The ravenette sighed, grabbing the oni’s hand to pull it away from her face, “Are you getting shy on me now? Don’t be silly,” she pressed a small kiss to (Y/n)’s nose, chuckling at the way it scrunched under her gentle touch, “It’s a common thing for most felines, actually. Are you a kitten, perhaps?”
“Oh my God, stop.” (Y/n) groaned, hiding her face in her palms.
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Wednesday ran through the woods, completely out of breath. Her legs hurt, knees bleeding where she scraped them from falling, and she could barely see where she was going, the night air nipping at her skin and urging her forward. The forest was almost silent – the heaviness of danger hung in the air, making all the wilderness hold its breath.
How long had she been running? Why did the forest seem so endless and dark, like a pit with nothing but void awaiting in the end?
The girl heard a loud roar behind her and picked up pace as much as her tired legs could allow her. Deep down she knew she would never win this chase. It was natural — prey was always meant to be caught by the predator.
Loud growls paired with sounds of leaves crunching under heavy limbs made her realise the creature was catching up. Gathering the last bits of her strength, Wednesday pushed herself to her limits, rushing forward to try and blend in the dark trees.
A flash of (e/c) eyes and huge tusks, and the ravenette went tumbling down on the ground. The demon knocked her off her feet and sent her flying on the forest floor, pining Wednesday to it with her talons painfully sinking into her sides. The ravenette winced, looking up at the furious creature who opened her toothy maw with an animalistic growl, staring down at the small human with heavy breaths. The oni's gaze was absolutely insane — there were no traces of humanity, no traces of (Y/n), warm and soft and full of adoration when Wednesday used to look at her.
Only monstrous hunger remained.
The demon didn't waste any time to bare her tusks, spit dripping as she lowered her head to finally put an end to their cat-and-mouse game. Wednesday grabbed at the monster's face, arms straining as she tried to push the creature away, but her frail hands were barely an obstacle to the demon — the oni's powerful jaws locked on her neck sharply, a loud crunching sound followed, and the creature jerked her head away forcefully, biting a chunk of flesh off the ravenette's throat.
A gargled sound left Wednesday's mouth, a scream muffled by blood gushing out, and she choked on the liquid, fingers digging at the soil around her as her chest contacted in pitiful attempts to gather up air.
Her widened eyes met the wild gaze of the predator above her, and her mouth moved, trying to get something out. Scarlet spilled instead of words, making her choke again, and after a few seconds of painful breaths the girl’s body went completely still.
The demon swallowed the warm meat, licking her lips pleasantly. She grinned, her teeth bloody, and dipped her head again to take another big bite from the delicious dish.
When (Y/n) awoke, she shot up in her bed, a gasp leaving her lips as she tried to steady her breathing.
She looked around, realising she was in her dorm, and not in the forest. It was still dark, and the only light was coming from the window, the moon shining amidst the gloomy sky illuminating her room in a soft glow. She stared down at her lap with widened eyes, palms grasping her blanket in a death grip.
Trying to swallow around the lump in her throat, she pressed her hands against her forehead and her shoulders shook.
Wednesday.
(Y/n) turned her head sharply — the small girl was sleeping soundly beside her, chest rising and falling with gentle breaths, and the demon felt bile rise up her throat.
God. She dreamt of eating her girlfriend. A being that now laid in the demon's bed, completely defenseless and fragile, trusting (Y/n) with her life more than anyone else.
Tearing the blanket off her body and stumbling to her feet, (Y/n) swayed, hitting her side against the desk, and her breathing turned erratic as the girl started to hyperventilate. She grabbed at her head, fingers carding through the (h/c) tresses, and the oni's claws slid down her face, leaving raw bleeding gashes that healed instantly. So the oni clawed at her cheeks again, again and again between choked breaths and pathetic hoarse whines escaping her throat, tears sliding down her chin and mixing with blood in a salty red river.
(Y/n) felt like screaming. She felt like clawing her eyes out, burying her fingers in the sockets of her skull and crushing them to never see the light of the day again.
She didn't deserve to.
Her legs gave out and the oni slid down to the wooden floor, leaning her head against the side of the desk. (Y/n) grabbed at her chest, talons piercing through the fabric of her shirt, wishing her heart would stop hurting. The girl wanted to rip it out of her own ribcage.
A soft touch on her back made the demon shiver, and she looked over her shoulder to find Wednesday sitting on her knees, hand outstretched and gently pressing into (Y/n)'s shaking form. Her expression was calm but in the darkness of her eyes swirled worry.
"Wed- Wednesday... Wednes... day, I... " The oni tried to speak through her quiet gasps and hiccups unsuccessfully.
"I'm here," came soft and quiet reassurance from the ravenette, "I'm right here, (Y/n)."
Clawed hands grasped at Wednesday's arms, and the demon hanged her head, face burying in the smaller girl's chest as she shook, tears coming in a seemingly unstoppable flow. Wednesday hugged the demon closer to herself, hands resting on her back, slender fingers tracing mindless circles there.
She didn't speak again.
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“Wednesday? What’s going on?” (Y/n) walked into the ravenette’s half - empty dorm to see the girl gathering her things around the room.
“I was expelled, (Y/n).” Wednesday deadpanned calmly without looking at the demon.
“W... What?”
“It’s the condition Sheriff Galpin imposed in exchange for him not pressing charges. I’m going home.”
“No, this is... This is ridiculous,” the demon felt a lump forming in her throat as she stepped closer to Wednesday, watching her pack her suitcase orderly, “I can talk to Weems. I’m sure she’ll understand, you don’t have to- “
“The decision’s already been made,” Wednesday interrupted, stacking her books in a pile, face completely impassive, “It seems I’ve lost.”
The demon pressed her clawed hands on the typewriter case when the smaller girl moved to grab the handle, “And you’re just going to leave like this?” she asked, frustrated, “When he’s out there, parading around the town as if he’s not a monstrous killer?”
“It does exasperate me, but,“ Wednesday averted her eyes, looking down at the floor, “Xavier’s right. If I’m not here... The prophecy won’t come true.”
“If you’re not here, this stupid school is done for,” (Y/n) grumbled, “But there’s one thing I can promise you. If Tyler ever shows his face around here, they’ll be scraping hyde intestines off the fucking walls.”
Wednesday didn’t reply. Her sagged shoulders straightened again, and the ravenette stepped away to gather what remained of her stuff, “I’ve known not to trust people all my life for the sake of not being let down, but... In the end, I was the one to disappoint everyone.”
“That’s bullshit,” the demon girl snapped, rushing after Wednesday and grabbing her by the hands, turning her around to face her, “You were the most intelligent, cunning and bold person around here. No one could ever compare.”
The demon’s voice shook slightly, and she pressed her blunt tusks into her bottom lip to stifle a sob, inhaling through her mouth with a hiss, before continuing, “You... you taught me to accept myself. To live without feeling unworthy of life. You were here, through thick and thin, by my side, even when I least deserved it...”
She stopped speaking for a moment, closing her eyes. Wednesday opened her mouth to reply, but then the warm grip on her palms tightened, and (Y/n) looked at her again.
“I love you, Wendesday.”
Wednesday’s dark pools of grey widened, and she felt emotions overwhelm her. Suddenly, the realisation came crushing down like a tidal wave – it was the last time she was seeing the oni. She won’t get to feel her touch again, watch her sleep in the dead of night, won’t ever share a desk with her in class. The ravenette felt tears well up in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
“If there is a single good thing Nevermore gave me... It’s you, (Y/n).”
Wednesday leaned closer to the taller girl, pressing her plush lips against (Y/n)’s, and the oni pulled her closer by the waist, desperately trying to grasp all the warmth of Wednesday’s body to herself. The demon’s heart fluttered every time she kissed the ravenette, as if she had never kissed her before, not being able to get used to the soft feeling of her lips, but the kiss they shared now felt like a sorrowful goodbye, and (Y/n) couldn’t fight a single tear sliding down her face.
When they parted, Wednesday’s heart clenched at the sight of the distraught demon, and she raised a pale hand to gently wipe the stray drop off her cheek, “Don’t cry,” she berated the oni girl gently.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave,” leaning into the cold touch, the demon sighed shakily, “Fuck. What will I do without you?”
“What you always do. Laugh at the most idiotic things obnoxiously, skip classes, growl at people and eat everything without discrimination.”
(Y/n) chuckled, pressing her forehead against Wednesday’s with a small watery grin, “What a charmer you are.”
They stayed like this for a few moments, reluctant to let go of each other, before the demon opened her eyes, “Can I see you to the station?”
The ravenette nodded.
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1K notes · View notes
rosesbxrry · 1 year
Text
teddy bear.
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Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader
Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship AU!
Warnings: Dom! Heeseung, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, teasing, cunnilingus, Heeseung using pet names on reader (princess/ baby/ angel), multiple orgasm, dirty talk, mixture of both praising and degradation, possessiveness (Heeseung being jealous over a teddy bear), Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else  
Summary: You decided to take advantage of the Christmas holiday to introduce your long-time boyfriend to your parents. However, you didn't expect Heeseung to get jealous over a teddy bear you kept gifted by your ex. 
A Holiday Special: ➜ Heeseung
| ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake | ➜ Sunghoon |
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Word count: 4,165 words
a/n: Impulse decision for me to make a holiday/ Christmas special for the Hyung line! I will post the other’s every week in the month of December but since this was a last minute project that I made, Sunghoon’s part will probably be posted in the first week of January next year. Hope you all enjoy this little special gifts as a thank you for all the support in 2022! 
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For this year's Christmas holiday, you've decided to introduce your long-term boyfriend, Heeseung, to your parents after being consistently pestered by them for wanting to meet him for so long.
So, after clearing your's and Heeseung's schedule and buying the latest flight tickets to fly back to your hometown, the familiar scenery of the neighbourhood where you grew up passed through the windows of your parent's car as they drove the both of you to your childhood home from the airport.
The sight of the area enveloped in clear white snow, and the parachuting of snowflakes from the sky caused you to shiver a bit. It was not like you hated winter, but you preferred the warmth of a summer's day rather than damp, gloomy and freezing weather.
A hand places itself on your hands— Heeseung's long and lanky fingers intertwined with yours, yet when you look up at him beside you from the passenger's seat, he still pays attention to your mother's rambles with deep interest. His doe eyes stayed firm on her, and he nodded his head occasionally, which made you stifle a little laugh at how cute he looked.  
To say your parents were smitten by him was an understatement.
Who wouldn't be when he noticed every little detail about you? Even holding your hand when he knew you would be cold like it was second nature to him.
When you arrived at your parent's home, you made sure not to let your mother self-indulge in Heeseung's presence. When she moved to show him a collage of pictures she kept from when you were a child into your awkward teens, you knew it was time to make excuses about how tired you and Heeseung were from the trip in hopes of getting away.
"I didn't know you used to be a part of the choir?" Heeseung teased, helping to move the heavy luggage into your childhood bedroom so that the both of you would be staying while here.
"We all have our dark past," You replied, removing your puffed jacket. "It was either that or playing the triangle once in a 3-minute song at the back with only the heads of the kids at the front in sight."
"I think it was cute." He laughed, lying down on the bed with his eyes darting around the place. He reached back to grab a giant teddy bear sitting on the bed, placing it on his lap and playing with the red heart it was holding with the words I love you written on it.
Your eyes caught the scene, and immediately an idea popped into your head, leading you to smirk unnoticed by your boyfriend, who was oblivious to your upcoming scheme.
"Oh! That teddy bear brings back so many old memories," You nonchalantly mused, trying too hard to seem unbothered. He throws you a curious look, hugging the stuffed toy against his chest relaxedly.
"Why?"
"Oh, nothing, just that it was a gift from my ex during high school. Isn't it nice and fluffy?"
You saw him freeze at the corner of your eyes, the innocent grip around the teddy bear loosened at the new revelation that you still kept something from your ex— and he was hugging it.
You had never seen him so appalled by anything.
It's not often you get to make Heeseung jealous because it would often be the other way around, which is why you enjoyed deciphering every bit of reaction he was showing. You took the chance to steal the teddy bear from his embrace, watching his bottom lip pout and his eyes low at how you were affectionately cuddling it against your chest.
"That thing is not sleeping on the bed with us." He firmly said.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his demand. "Come on, and this gift was years ago! Look how nice of a cuddling buddy it can be for the winter night." You held the stuffed toy up for him to see; a soft pillow texture with the right size to hug, its head tilted to the side innocently as if it were not the source of his problem.
The look he gave the bear was murderous at best.
"Whatever. It’s not stepping a single foot near this bed." He curtly replied, frowning with his arms crossed around his chest to show his determination.
"Besides, why would you need it when you can cuddle with me instead?" He muttered under his breath with a slight spice that was hard to miss.
You wanted to laugh at how he was acting but kept it calm, continuing with the charade if it meant seeing him so uptight about the whole ordeal. You bit your lower lip, using every ounce of self-control not to break out of character, opting to show him a looped-sided grin which he did not appreciate.
After freshening up and pushing the whole thing behind, you had a great Christmas Eve dinner with your parents. In true fashion, they pry every detail from him— from how the both of you met, his studies and what his parents do for a living. Your boyfriend was a natural charmer for sure, answering the questions with his pearly white smile and galaxy-set eyes while throwing in some of his humour that sometimes, you eyed your parents for laughing a bit too much. But then again, it was a good reassurance to you that they have fallen for this man as much as you did.  
The night ended with some sweet desserts that your mother made and endless conversation filled in between the warm scent of cinnamon and apple at the dining table. The snowfall has quickly thickened outside, and the darkness has taken over the sky, but it didn't stop your parents from attending the communal Christmas event held by the neighbourhood right after.
So, as they left, you and Heeseung were left to do the dishes and clean the kitchen voluntarily.
"Do you think your parents like me?" Heeseung asked when you passed him the washed plate for him to dry. A disbelief looked crossed your face, wiping your head to the side to face him.
"Baby," You started. "I think they will probably cry when we leave, and I can reassure you that it's not because of their flesh and bone."  
Heeseung laughed, giving you a sheepish smile as you jokingly soaped the dirty plates a little too bitterly. In all honesty, he was a little worried about meeting your parents, which turned him into a nervous wreck, especially when he regarded you as the love of his life. He wanted to know if they were being nice out of obligation for their daughter's happiness instead of seeing him as someone they could trust.
However, hearing your words have lifted the burden and worries off his shoulder.
Heeseung leaned down to your level and pecked your lips abruptly, taking you by surprise that the spoon you were washing almost slipped out of your grasp. You looked up to give him a confused stare, the proximity of his face was close enough for you to feel bashful at the way he was fixated on your lips.
"What was that?" You questioned.
"I don't know." He answered honestly, but you recognized the sultry tone in the way he replied.
You observed how he was holding back a grin; his features were now agonizingly attractive from the way his Adam's apple bobbed to the slope of his nose, which reminded you how perfectly it fit between the spaces of your legs. You smiled back at him with equal anticipation.
"Maybe you should do it again." You challenged, and it was enough for him to swoop down to kiss you again, but this time, he held onto the side of your face to deepen it. You didn't care that your hands were still wet as you tangled your fingers between his locks of raven hair.
Your lips moved sensually before the intensity heightened as the two pairs of arms eagerly moved to caress each other's bodies. You could tell Heeseung was getting heated, his lips moving sloppily against yours; the wet sound emitted was erotic to your ears.
His hands that were once on your back slid down to rest on your ass, and he pulled the front of your body flushed against his own. Once you felt his stiff bulge, a loud moan erupted from your lips as he jerked his hips for more friction, feeling your pussy drooling at his desperate motion.
Fuck he felt so big. Your legs quiver at the thought.
Heeseung broke the kiss to drop forward close to the crook of your neck.
"When do you think your parents are going to be back?" His voice was hoarse, leaving soft and open kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. You attempted to make sense of his question in your state but it proved to be difficult at how breathless he was making you feel.
"An hour or two at best." You swallowed, goosebumps blooming on your skin.
"Good."
That was the only word you heard from him; the next thing you knew, he was pulling you by the wrist towards the familiar direction of your upstairs bedroom.
The sound of the door banging close echoed in the room. Heeseung attached his moist lips back to yours in a feverish manner, his hands sliding under your shirt, and you shivered at the way his cold rings grazed your skin. The impact of your back hitting the soft mattress was expected, arching your back to aid him in taking off your shirt and bra hastily.
"God, you're so beautiful." He moaned, leaning down from his position on top of you to squeeze your breast. You whimpered when he played with your hardened nipples in between his thumb and index finger, your hands tugging on the ends of his shirt in a desperate attempt for him to realize you wanted it off.
"Heeseung...."  
He smirked at the way you called his name intensely, watching your mouth open agape to allow strings of sweet moans to escape when he flicked at your peaking nipples.
"Patience baby," He said as you watched him from below as he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his lean physique and cut waistline that your hands achingly gravitate. Heeseung let out a content sigh, enjoying the sensation of your palms smoothing his abdomen to his chest, leaving a trail of searing stimulation on his skin.
"Let me take it slow, okay?"
He begins to caress the delicate curve of your clavicle with his hot tongue, his head moving in a downward motion and leaving a trail of saliva behind. A sharp gasp escapes your mouth when he reaches the swell of your breast before he inevitably sucked in a nipple, the tip of his tongue swiping back and forth over it, making your head spin at the amount of pleasure overwhelming your body.  
"Ah—fuck," You gritted out, feeling your pussy dampen that you had to squeeze your thighs together.
Heeseung continued to drag his tongue down, slowly tasting every inch of your skin as he said. The heat in your stomach grew hotter, your breath hitching higher as you realize he was getting closer to the one area you needed him the most.
Just the thought of his lips against your drenched folds tightens your grip on the wrinkled bed sheet, and the fact that his buttoned nose would be resting on your throbbing clit— fucking god, you would probably ascend to heaven at the mercy of it.
Heeseung let out an amused chuckle when you moaned loudly as he pulled off the last article of clothing on you. With your legs resting on his shoulders, his eyes gauged at how your folds were dripping with slick and the hunger he felt grew ferocious with only the thought of satiating it by burrowing his face between your lovely legs.
"So wet and needy for me," You felt his fiery gaze without looking at him, his fingers pulling your pussy apart to give him a better sight which elicits a soft moan. "—shit, look at this pretty clit mm? so swollen and perfect"
Your face was inflamed at his words because it was true; you felt every bone and cell in your body reacting to every touch, every movement and every sound he made that you were spilling an unimaginable amount of arousal from your core. Your brain was hazed with immense lust, with the last grain of sanity thrown out of the window.
You wanted him; you wanted him so much that it hurts.
Heeseung took advantage of your adorable and dishevelled state, caressing your inner thighs close to your pussy with the pads of his thumb.
"I can have a taste, can I?" His comment was coy, tilting his head innocently to the side as if he was not witnessing you falling apart.
He was torturing you with those Bambi eyes.
"Hee— please," You sobbed, a hand over your eyes as you were slowly running out of patience, completely bewitched body and soul by pleasure. "Please, I want you so fucking badly."
Heeseung was drinking up your desperate pleads, his crotch growing painfully tight against his pants the more you squirmed. Precum was slowly leaking out of his slit onto the fabric of his briefs, but his priority was to taste your sweet juices before he could settle his hard cock. He licked his lips, finally satisfied with getting off by your brazen mewls that it was time for you to receive your reward.
"Anything for my princess."
You threw your head back when he licked a stripe against your core; a mantra of curses escaped your lips as the wet muscles of his tongue drew out the intricacy of your folds. He made out with your pussy; nibbling, lapping and sucking on the sweet essence that infiltrated his senses until he couldn't have enough of your pussy on his face.
"oh my god—" You couldn't even finish your sentence as a whine erupted when you felt the tip of his nose nuzzled against your swollen clit. Electrifying pleasure shoots through underneath your skin that it tingled the more he bobbed his head to nudge on the sensitive nerve.
"Keep your legs open," His low growl vibrates into your folds, sending waves of bliss straight to the knot in your stomach, smacking his lips to savour how sloppy he was making you. He grips your thighs to make you stop squirming, pulling you down more towards his face.  
"Don't make me stop eating you out. You wouldn't like that, won't you?"
You can't let him do that. Never.
"No, no, no! Don't stop! please," You couldn't fathom whether he was acting serious or being a tease, but all you know is to obey his command instinctively, opening your legs wide for him to feel the smirk on his lips.
"Good girl," He praised, voice dripping with honey.
Your laboured panting reverberates as loud as the beating of your heart as he dives back into your core. His tongue and mouth moved so much faster and harder that you could barely catch your breath, making you thrust your hips relentlessly to gain more friction.
Every brush of his nose on your clit, every suction and graze of his tongue and lips on the slit of your cunt, setting the knot in your stomach a blaze more excruciating than before. You played with your erect nipples with the rhythm of his mouth with your head thrown back to let him enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself as you tried to reach the threshold of your release faster.
"Don't—stop— fuck! I'm gonna cum." You warned.
Heeseung made the final move to seal his lips around your swollen clit, suctioning pressure enough for you to release into his hot mouth. You cried out his name as your back arched, and the heat in your stomach finally came undone as waves of ecstasy got you trembling from head to toe. His mouth never ceases to move against your tender folds, making you ride your orgasm as he smooths a palm over your tense abdomen, adamant about making sure he drinks every bit of your sweet release.  
"Heeseung," Your voice quivered, bathing in the aftershock of your high as you glanced down at the male between your parted thighs.
His dark, intense eyes immediately zeroed in on you, taking a few more laps of your juices until he was satisfied, noticing how his eyes were dazed, as if he was in an enchanted state at just seeing you in the utmost pleasure.
"You did so well, angel," He leaned up to kiss you on the lips; a string of your cum mixed with his saliva was visible when he broke the exchange. He gently moves a stray hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ears. "Such a good girl cumming in my mouth."
A whispered litany of praises escaped his lips, caressing your neck with the bridge of his nose, letting your finger comb through his locks when your body finally registered the exhaustion creeping in from your orgasm. The domestic atmosphere settled in as he continued to nuzzle against your shoulder, feeling the comfortable weight of his body on top of yours.
"Feel better?" He rested his weight on his elbow to look at you properly. "You okay? I can run the shower for you, and we can rest up after."
You chuckled at his natural shift, reaching out to touch playfully the dangling silver earrings he wore. It was unfathomable to you that he could edge your deepest desire before turning into the softest and most endearing person seconds apart. His offer relaxes the tired muscles of your body, but you knew you couldn't end the night knowing that his release didn't ensue.
You shake your head, "I can't just leave you like this."
You watch his face contoured in pleasure when you palm your hand on his still-hard bulge; the friction causes him to erupt into a deep groan. With quick action, you massage his clothed cock, and the beautiful soft whines he emits sends waves of pleasure straight to your spent pussy.
Heeseung was too preoccupied with making you feel good that he didn't realize how needy he was with his release, grinding and humping his hips covetously against your hand to get the delicious waves of friction. You continued to grope his cock and squeeze the thick length until he was a panting mess straddling above you, observing how his eyes shut close, and his body jerked forward when you rubbed his head with your nails.
"But—"
"No buts," You cut him off, tugging his sweatpants down to expose the thin briefs underneath, and your mouth immediately watered at how huge the outline was. "I want you to fuck me with your big cock, Hee."
He opened his eyes, and you noted the sudden shift in the way his jaw clenched, the initial soft feature of his shyness wholly replaced with a feral-like gaze that would swallow you whole behind his wispy bangs. He played with the soft cushion of your lower lip, piercing eyes studying how your lips parted to allow the finger to enter sensually.
"I'm not gonna go easy on you baby," He swallowed thickly once your tongue coated his thumb with saliva, putting a bit of pressure on the roof of your mouth. "You might scream at the top of your lungs once I'm in."
"Don't worry," You sucked on his thumb innocently while never breaking eye contact, which thrills him even more. "Maybe you'll find out in a second that I like it that way."
Heeseung always prides himself on self-control, but something about the sight of you holding his writs to push his thumb deeper into the cavern of your mouth, your big eyes looking up at him through your lashes as the wet sound of you sucking grew sloppy— something snapped when he realized the other figure present in the room.
It didn't register your mind when he shoved the familiar teddy bear close to your face.
"Wha—"
"You said you wanna cuddle with it, right?"
He roughly pulled down his sweatpants to expose his manhood, allowing it to stand tall in all its glory against his abdomen. He stroked his engorged cock to spread the precum from the pink head to the underside of his veins; his tight balls bounced with every knead until his length was nice and lubricated.
At the same time, his other arm pulled you swiftly by the ankle, resting one leg over his shoulder. You shudder as the cold air hits your core, wide open for him to see your pussy that was already glistening.
"I'll make sure you'll hold it tight, so you better don't let go." You hold the teddy bear tight to your chin, moaning when the male rubs his head against your clit and along your wet folds.
A broken moan erupted from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he pushed into your slit. No matter how many times he had fucked your hole, you couldn't get enough of how euphoric the initial stretch was, feeling his large and throbbing cock against your hot walls.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." That was all you could utter when he bottomed out. Before you could adjust, he began to thrust in and out of you at a fast tempo, disregarding any grace and showing the ravenous resolve he meant.
You dug your fingernails harder against the teddy bear, tears welling up at the inner corners of your eyes, feeling like he was splitting you apart from the inside the harder he thrust.
“Ah!—wait, it's too—"
"I told you, didn't I?" With one grip on the thigh of your anchored leg and the other on your hips to keep you in place, Heeseung continued to piston his hips forward, ensuring he went all the way in and out at a ruthless pace. "I won't go easy on you, princess."
Heeseung spills his drool right where his cock meets your slit, giving him more power to thrust in swiftly and out sharply. As much as you were enjoying him deep inside you, the male let out soft agonizing grunts as well; your walls spasmed over his wide girth until he felt lightheaded. You felt so good around him that he projected it with every merciless lunge to chase down his high selfishly.
He glanced down at you and almost laughed at how you held the teddy bear close to your face, muffling your moans and crying that the sight enamoured him.
"Scream it out, baby," He growled. The mattress deep down behind your back as he pushes hard to allow his swollen head to hit the deepest part of your pussy. "Tell your precious teddy bear how much my cock makes you feel good— how much I can fuck this tight little cunt until you can't walk."
Fuck, you were tightening up with every dirty spite he spilt.
"Hee—Heeseung—ahhh," You plead. The familiar heated knot grows, and your second orgasm hangs by a thread, throwing your head back with your mouth agape. "I'm—I'm so close!"
"That's it, baby. Cum for me." He coaxed.
Your surroundings instantly melted away, spatial perception slipping through the cracks, and all you could focus on was the mind-blowing release that spiralled in your body. A few seconds later, Heeseung came after a few more thrusts with a loud groan as he filled you up with his hot cum, fucking you through your orgasm slowly until you could feel the mixed sticky arousal oozing out to drip down your inner thighs.
He collapsed beside you, and you could tell how exhausted yet buzzing the experience was. As coherency slowly registered in your mind and the adrenaline pumping arrested into a soft hum, Heeseung pulled you into his embrace in silent bliss, caressing your back delicately.
At that moment, you would have never thought that your Christmas trip to visit your parents would end up like this, but it beats the cold and the fact that your little scheme to rile him up ended up between your love-making session.
Which makes you realize—
"I lied, by the way."
Heeseung turned his head to face you with a confused look.
"The teddy bear was not from my ex," You explained, observing how his eyebrow furrowed to understand. "I bought it when I was twelve during a garage sale for like two bucks."
His face fell immediately, realization seeping into him.
"You're a menace to society." He groaned, throwing the teddy bear you were holding across the room in embarrassment as your amused laugh only depended seeing the pink flush on his ears, making this Christmas holiday an unforgettable memory for the both of you.
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@forjongseong, @skzenhalove, @duolingofanaccount, @sunnysunnysunnysunshine, @sunnyjayjays, @archangelaurii, @hwihwi0o0, @won-shine, @stnkyash, @yoursjaeyun​
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A Holiday Special: ➜ Heeseung
| ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake | ➜ Sunghoon |
2K notes · View notes
michaelsfavgirl · 4 months
Text
innocence
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Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader
Synopsis: Wanting the best for his angel, Michael takes you to your dream vacation place and makes your first time unforgettable, more special than you could have imagined.
Tags: smut, virginity loss, teasing, dom!michael, sub!reader, fingering, oral (fem receiving), hand job, p in v, creampie, implied age gap, praise kink, bit of spit kink, mike's huge cock (yes, it needs it's own warning).
Word Count: 7.7k
Requested: yes/no
Author’s Note: I won't write a part two to any other one-shot, however, when it comes to this one would you be interested in this becoming a little series where Michael teaches virgin!reader (well not anymore lol) how to ride him, give him a blowie etc.?
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After a while of lounging on the daybed next to the pool and conversing it gets dark, and your impatience is palpable. You playfully boop Michael's arm, looking up at him with wide, pleading doe eyes. Your eagerness is obvious, but Michael can't resist teasing you a little, acting as if he's oblivious to your earlier conversation.
He blinks innocently, tilting his head in mock confusion. "What's got you so worked up, little one?" he asks, a playful twinkle in his eyes. He knows exactly what you're thinking but can't resist teasing you.
Your cheeks heat up out of a mixture of frustration and anticipation. You lean closer to him. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," you whisper, not wanting to explicitly say what you're yearning for.
Michael's lips curl into a knowing smile. "Do I, now?" he says, his voice velvety and indulgent.
You huff in mock annoyance, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his arm. "Yes, you do," you reply, your yearning gaze meeting his. "You promised, remember?"
His smile deepens, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "ooh” he says, his tone full of faux realization. "You mean... that promise."
You can't help but giggle, your exasperation melting into a softer expression. You playfully swat his arm. "Don't tease me like that," you chide, your voice a gentle plea.
Before he can say something witty, the rain begins to fall gently. Your playful annoyance is momentarily forgotten as Michael swiftly sweeps you off your feet, cradling you in his strong arms. You let out a surprised squeal, your heart racing as he carries you effortlessly into your bedroom, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a breathtaking view of the now gloomy weather.
With careful tenderness, he sets you down on the plush bed. The rain outside has grown more insistent, the rhythmic patter against the window creating a comforting atmosphere. Michael's forehead rests against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as he looks into your eyes, his gaze sincere and searching.
"Are you sure, baby?" he asks softly, his tone tender and full of concern. "This is a big step, I want you to be absolutely certain."
His willingness to wait and his insistence on your comfort have only solidified your trust in him. You reach up to gently cup his cheeks. "Michael," you say, your voice steady despite the fluttering of your heart, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want it. I want it with you."
A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with emotion. He brings his hand to cover yours on his cheek, a gesture of connection and reassurance. "Thank you, sweet girl. I promise I'll make this special." With a gentle, lingering kiss, Michael seals your agreement, his lips warm against yours.
Moving to sit on the bed, he settles you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly. Your playful squeal brings a fond smile to his lips. Kissing your neck, his lips brush against your sensitive skin, leaving short sweet kisses all over. In response, your breathy sigh sends a shiver down his spine.
His fingers trail along your hips, fingertips gently tracing the contours of your body. As he nibbles and sucks on your neck, he feels your body respond, your breathing growing more ragged with every kiss.
"Can I give you a little mark, baby?" he whispers against your skin. You look at him with wide, innocent eyes, needily nodding.
He presses his lips to your neck again, this time with a bit more fervor, gently licking and sucking on your neck, leaving a small purple mark behind. Your whimpers are more pronounced now, overwhelmed by new sensations.
As he pulls away, you whine and ask for another one, temporarily losing your shyness. "Another one?" he murmurs, his lips trailing lower along your neck. You whimper softly, your body leaning into his touch as if craving more. With a smirk, he complies, suckling another mark on your delicate skin, his fingers digging slightly into your hips as he does it.
Not feeling satiated enough, you ask for more, wanting to revel in this new feeling that's making you feel aroused. He hesitates for a moment, his arousal evident in the darkening gaze he fixes upon you. "Sweetheart, if I do another one, your neck will be all purple," he warns in an amusing tone.
But your eagerness is apparent as you beg for just one more, using your best puppy dog eyes to win him over. He groans softly, unable to say no to his precious girl.
"Alright," he relents, his voice a husky whisper. "One more, but then we'll have to stop." And so, with a final lingering nibble on your heated skin, he leaves one more hickey on your neck.
Laying you down on the bed gently, he looks into your eyes with a softness that makes you feel tingly. His voice takes on a playful, tender quality as he whispers, "Can I kiss you all over, sweet girl?"
You nod your head and suck in a breath when he bends down slightly and kisses his way from your collarbone to your chest. He presses tender kisses to your soft breasts through the fabric of your bikini. Sliding his warm hands up your body, he cups one of your tender breasts, making you gasp. He smirks at your reaction and moves lower, his lips finding your tummy, pressing wet kisses on your skin while gently fondling your breasts. 
He grabs your thighs and boldly spreads your legs. He looks up at you, checking if you're okay with what he's doing. You nod eagerly to urge him to continue. He smiles and presses kisses to the soft skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh. You look up at the ceiling, feeling too shy to make eye contact with him.
As his lips leave a trail of small love marks across your thighs, he teasingly retreats and sits back down on his heels, which brings you out of your trance. Your whine of protest is met with a playful chuckle from him. He gently hushes you, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not stopping, I just want you to be absolutely ready."
His fingers trail along your cheek as he continues, "I won't do anything unless you're dripping wet and aching for me. Your pleasure and comfort come first, always." Ugh, he’s so damn perfect it makes you want to scream.
Looking down, he traces the outline of your soaked bikini bottoms with a teasing smirk, feeling the damp fabric cling to your pussy. “Please…” you say breathlessly. He groans under his breath, finding it difficult to resist you. His fingers dance along the edge of the bikini curiously. And then he finally slips his hand underneath, feeling how hot your skin is.
He lets his long fingers graze over your slick folds, feeling how puffy and swollen they've gotten from need. His touch elicits a broken gasp from you. Feeling desires take over, you clench your little hole around nothing, desperately wanting him to slip his fingers into you and make you feel good. The wet squelching sound of your pussy makes his cock twitch in his shorts.
He can see the desperation in your eyes. But he is determined to prolong the delicious torment, to ensure that every moment is etched into your memories.
"Patience, my love," he murmurs against your ear, his voice a low, seductive whisper. You buck your hips, the tingling sensation between your legs making it unbearable to wait any longer.
He slowly removes your bikini top, big, strong hands peeling it off your warm body. You stare at his every movement, mesmerized by how confident he seems. He exposes your tits, and the sight of them makes his breath catch in his throat.
“Gorgeous,” he whispers.
He doesn't give you time to react as he wraps his lips around one nipple, gently sucking while his other hand kneads your other breast. He worships them, his lips and tongue lavishing attention on your sensitive flesh, his fingers and mouth lightly pinching and teasing your nipples until they stand erect. You moan, never having been touched like this.
“Can I?” he asks as he tugs on your bikini bottom.
“Yeah,” that's all you manage to say before laying your head further on the pillow, feeling your cheeks heat up.
He lays down on his stomach and takes off your bottoms. The sight of your wet, puffy pussy makes his heart race. Fuck, you’ve got the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He spreads your legs wider, his gaze drawn to how your slippery clit and small hole are visible between your soft folds.
He revels in the scent of your arousal. You feel so vulnerable as his fingers gently spread your swollen folds apart, revealing more of your cunt. Your small, tight entrance seems to beckon him. It’s so small he can barely see it; how is he going to fit his meaty cock in you?
You whimper meekly as he keeps staring at your glossy cunt, your wetness dripping down your slit. Finally sure that you truly want this, he gives your sensitive, untouched clit slow kitten licks, eliciting a sweet moan from you. But as he envelops your clit in his lips, sucking and licking your nub, your sounds become more explicit. Happy that your pussy is getting some much-needed attention.
Michael detaches his lips from your clit and replaces it with his thumb. He circles your virgin hole with his warm tongue, teasing you. You whine from desperation, pushing your hips towards his mouth. He pinches your inner thigh as a warning; he's the one in control, don’t be greedy. He slowly slides his tongue into your tight hole. As your slick touches his taste buds, he groans into your pussy, already addicted to your taste, so sweet and mouthwatering.
Good luck trying to stop him from eating you out every chance he gets, from now on.
His own hunger grows with each taste of you, his tongue becoming bolder as he explores the depths of your wet walls. The sensation of your tight hole squeezing around his tongue drives him wild, along with how your slick covers his lower face.
You whine as he pulls away from you. But before you can complain, he brings two of his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them slowly. His eyes focus on yours as you notice a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, taking in your appearance—half-lidded eyes, lips parted, breathing heavily. He wishes he could freeze this moment.
Taking his now spit-covered fingers, he places them at your entrance. “Gonna ease my way in, baby, okay?” you nod enthusiastically.
Slowly, he pushes his fingers into your tight hole, feeling your walls stretch around them. You whimper as you try to get used to the foreign feeling. “You’re doing so well, little one,” he reassures you, wanting you to feel as comfortable as possible. He starts to steadily pump his fingers into your drooling hole, your essence making everything more slippery. You try to suppress your moans, but the way he so deliciously scissors his long fingers into you for the first time doesn't make it so easy.
A seductive smile graces his lips as he looks up at your blissed-out state, his fingers continuing their relentless rhythm inside you. The lewd, dirty words he keeps whispering seem to fuel your desire. You feel like you might cry from how good it feels already.
After a bit, with your consent of course, he adds a third finger, making your breath hitch and heart beat faster, if that's even possible at this point. And then, he carefully adds a fourth finger, feeling your tightness stretch around him. You try to close your legs from the slight burning sensation, but his other hand keeps them pried open.
“I know it hurts a little, but I need to make sure that you’ll be able to take my cock, okay sweetheart?” he asks in that gentle voice that always makes you melt.
As he keeps sliding his fingers inside you he knows he needs to do something to ease the tension, so he gets closer to your drenched pussy and wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucking on your button while simultaneously stimulating your hole. You keep bucking your hips, trying to chase the high that's so near. 
Michael can also tell so he speeds up his movements, wanting nothing more than to see his girl in the throes of pleasure. “Are you close sweetheart?” he muffles against your swollen folds, not wanting to stop his ministrations even for a second. Not even having enough strength to nod, you simply whine and clench around his fingers. 
He keeps the pace steady as he watches you throw your head back and shamelessly gush on his fingers, filthy sounds leaving your innocent mouth. You look so angelic, breathing uneven, nipples erect, it takes everything in him not to make you cum immediately again, but he knows you need a minute to catch your breath. 
He slowly pulls his fingers out from your quivering entrance, he marvels at the sight of his fingers glistening with your cum. He brings his fingers to his lips, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and he sensually licks your creamy wetness from his fingers, savoring the taste of you.
Your cheeks flush with a deep shade of red, unable to say anything, your innocent gaze meeting his intense one. He can see a mixture of embarrassment and arousal in your eyes. He continues to suck on his fingers, his tongue swirling over the remnants of your wetness.
He slowly withdraws his fingers from his mouth. With a playful glint in his eyes, he kisses your lips tenderly. He can feel your surprise as your own taste meets your lips, and he can't help but chuckle softly at your reaction.
Your cute squeal and the way you pull away only add to his amusement. "Mmm, you taste so good," he murmurs in a husky voice, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I could barely bring myself to stop. But I wanted to save some for later." His words are infused with a teasing tone, his lips brushing against yours in a light, affectionate kiss.
Michael tries to kiss you again, but he can feel your shyness as you move your head, avoiding his attempt. Your innocence is endearing to him, and he understands your hesitations. But he also knows that a little teasing could go a long way in pushing your boundaries.
As he slides his fingers back into your tightness, your gasp of surprise only fuels his desire. He thrusts his fingers gently a few times, watching your reaction closely. Then, as he withdraws them and presents them to your lips, he can't help but let out a low groan at the sight of your blushing.
"Come on, little one," he teases, his voice low and husky. "I promise it's not as naughty as you think. Just a little taste," he adds with a smirk, "Or I might just have to be a little greedy and have it all for myself."
He watches as your blush deepens, your gaze meeting his. When you slightly open your mouth, he slides his fingers in, his own breath catching at the sight of your lips wrapping around his fingers. The sensation of you sucking on his fingers sends a jolt of desire through him, and he can't help but let out a soft moan.
"Good girl," he praises gently, his fingers moving in your mouth with a controlled rhythm. "You're a fast learner, aren't you? Sucking so eagerly..." His words are laden with innuendo. He continues the teasing motion for a moment longer before finally withdrawing his fingers, a satisfied grin on his lips.
Straightening up, he positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs as he watches your reactions closely. All this makes you feel needy again, and he can see the frustration building up within you as you impatiently buck your hips against nothing, your desire evident in your every movement.
He can't resist teasing you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "What is it that you want, sweet girl?" he asks, his voice velvety. "Tell me."
“Need you,” you mewl quietly.
“Need what, baby?” he taunts. He wants you to say it.
“Need…need your cock,” you whisper, your shyness coming back.
"You need my cock, hmm?" he murmurs, satisfied with your answer.
His hands trail up your inner thighs, fingers gently grazing over your soft skin before kneading the warm flesh. He has been thoroughly enjoying the time he’s spent teasing you, watching you squirm and whimper under his touch. As he continues, he can't help but notice how your slick is creating a damp spot on the sheets beneath you.
Seeing your eagerness, he decides to give you a small taste of what you crave. He smirks down at you, his fingers momentarily stilling their movements. "You want to see it, don't you?" he teases, his voice low and seductive. "My cock?"
Oh my... this is actually happening to you.
He chuckles softly. "My angel…," he purrs, his tone carrying a mixture of pride and anticipation. "You're about to have all your fantasies come true, my innocent little one." Your newly stretched hole drools at his words, a clear indication of just how worked up you're becoming.
"But remember, baby," he adds, his voice a husky whisper, "I'm going to take my time with you. I want to make sure you're absolutely ready for me." He can feel his own excitement building, his cock straining against his shorts as he imagines finally giving you what you crave.
Without wasting more time, he teasingly removes his swim trunks and settles himself between your thighs. Your eyes widen as your gaze falls upon his impressive cock, a mixture of curiosity painting your features. He can't help but notice the way your breath hitches.
His hard cock is proudly on display, its size and girth intimidating you. He watches as your eyes travel along its length, taking in every detail. He smirks as he sees your glossy pussy clench, your body instinctively reacting to the sight before you. It’s so thick that it can’t fully straighten. A thin layer of foreskin partially covers his wet tip, which is leaking pre-cum. A few noticeable veins here and there. His round, juicy balls hang beneath, looking heavy and suckable.
He's huge, and when I say huge, I mean it. At least 9 inches and extremely fat.
"First time seeing a cock, huh?" he muses, a hint of smugness in his tone. You look up at him, jaw on the floor. You had suspicions that he was above average, but this is not what you expected. Not that you're complaining though.
He can't resist pushing the teasing further, seeing how your innocent eyes widen as he pulls back his foreskin, exposing the sensitive head of his cock. His fingers move lazily, a slow and deliberate pumping motion that causes his thick shaft to throb, more of his pre-cum dripping out.
As a droplet of his precum glistens on the tip of his cock, he lets it fall, landing directly onto your puffy clit. Your gasp inflates his ego. He grins mischievously, his voice dripping with playful arrogance, "Enjoying the view, sweetheart?"
He leans in closer seductively, "Your little hole is so small, I can barely see it. But don't worry, my big cock is going to stretch you out and fill you up completely." He punctuates his words with another slow pump of his cock, making sure you can see every inch of him.
With a final teasing tug at his shaft, he releases his cock and shifts his position, bringing himself closer to you. His eyes lock onto your blushing face as he poses the question, "Do you want to touch it, baby?" His voice is low. Licking your lips hungrily, you say yes.
Gently, he guides you, lifting you and placing you on your knees before him on the bed. He positions himself in front of you, his lengthy cock proudly erect. Taking your delicate hand in his, he guides it towards his pulsing dick, his fingers gently curling your smaller ones around the base.
Your fingers barely make it halfway around his girth. Feeling anxious from all the new sensations, you mutter to yourself. “It’s heavy,” he manages to hear you and grunts. "Mmm, that's because it's so big, sweet girl," he replies, his voice laced with need.
Encouragingly, he whispers, "Now, give it a little squeeze." His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer. Your hesitant touch only fuels his arousal, your inexperience driving him wild. You can feel more of your slick pooling between your folds.
But he doesn't want you to feel overwhelmed. Gently, he places his larger hand over yours, guiding your movements, showing you how to stroke his thick length. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his breath hitching as your fingers move along his cock.
“Spit on it.”
He sees you hesitate as he requests you to spit on him, sensing your shyness. You bite your lip, your face flushed with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. As your grip on his cock loosens, he offers you gentle encouragement, his voice soft and coaxing. "You can do it, little one. Just a little bit, make it messy."
As you collect your saliva, you do as he says, but unfortunately, your saliva ends up on your fingers rather than his cock. He senses your embarrassment, and your teary eyes tug at his heartstrings.
"Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispers tenderly, his fingers gently wiping away your tears. "You're doing just fine, baby. Remember, you're new to this," He plants a soft kiss on your forehead.
He cups your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "I'm not upset, okay? You're doing amazing, and I'm so proud of you." His thumbs brush away your remaining tears before he gently urges you to try again.
When your spit finally lands on his cockhead, his groan of approval is deeply gratifying. He praises you with a delighted chuckle, his hand squeezing your body affectionately. "That's my girl. Good job, baby. Now, spread that delicious spit all around for me."
As you follow his guidance, your strokes create wet, naughty sounds. Your bashful reaction, hiding your face in his chest, only makes his cock harder. He holds you close, your bodies pressed together firmly, and whispers words of admiration into your ear. "That's it, sweetheart, keep stroking. Show me how good you can make me feel." His words are soothing, easing your nerves as he guides you through the sensual act.
After a bit your hand grows tired from the prolonged play. He can't help but find your whimpering adorable. "Aw, my sweetheart, is your hand tired?" he coos, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Don't worry, we've had enough of playing with my cock for now."
He lays you down gently on the bed, settling between your spread legs, his eyes locked onto your drenched pussy. The sight of your glistening folds drives him wild.
Teasing you, he traces a finger close to your cunt, just barely grazing your swollen clit. Your hips instinctively buck, and you let out a desperate whine. "You've been such a good girl, waiting so patiently. I think you've earned your reward, don't you?"
His fingers lightly trace patterns on your inner thigh, skirting oh so close to your glossy center. "Tell me, baby, do you want me to finally take you? Do you want to feel my cock stretch your little pussy?" He asks seductively. You nod your head eagerly and stare hungrily at his stiff cock.
He spreads your legs even farther apart, anticipation building within you. He presses the tip of his heavy, thick cock against your tiny hole, feeling your slick coating his sensitive head. His fingers dig into your soft hips as he attempts to push himself into your virgin pussy, the tightness and resistance driving him wild.
You whine from the pressure of him trying to slip his dick into you. Grabbing onto the sheets, you shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the burning sensation. He struggles to fit his tip inside you, and you can see his brows furrowed in concentration, which makes your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, but if you only knew how much your inexperience is turning him on.
"You're so damn tight, little one. I can barely even get the tip in."
He grunts from the resistance, finding it more difficult to ease his cockhead in than he anticipated. But with a quick warm smile thrown your way, he finally manages to push the tip in, spreading your pussy lips around his bulbous tip. You gasp, your breathing picking up as you try not to look him in the eyes.
"Look at you," he purrs, his hand cupping your face to make you face him, his eyes locked onto yours. "So untouched... It's almost too much for my cock to handle." he feels his pre-cum oozing out of him in large globs. Your warm gummy walls enveloping him so nicely.
He pulls out slightly, giving you a chance to breathe, then slowly slides his back in. He continues this slow, teasing rhythm, only pushing in the tip and then completely pulling out to watch your hole close. He maintains the slow, tantalizing pace, his gaze locked onto yours as he rocks a bit further with each shallow thrust, savoring the sensation of your warmth squeezing him so good.
He continues to try and slide more of his meaty cock inside your slippery pussy, the tightness and resistance making his eyes flutter and roll back. He is careful not to hurt you though. As he persists, you whine, a mixture of discomfort and the beginnings of pleasure finding you. Your innocence and vulnerability tug at his heartstrings, and he pauses, looking into your eyes with genuine concern.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks softly, his voice filled with tenderness.
Tears well up in your eyes as you nod, your voice trembling as you speak, "I-I'm okay, just... it's a little painful."
He can't bear to see you in pain, so he leans down and gently kisses your lips, his hand reaching to softly caress your cheeks.
"I've got you," he murmurs against your lips. "I'll make it as gentle as possible."
With a reassuring smile, he intertwines his fingers with yours, your hands clasping tightly. He resumes his slow and careful movements, gradually inching his lengthy cock deeper into your slick walls. You squeeze his hand tightly.
As more of him slips inside you, he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth. He wants to distract you from the discomfort, to show you that he is there for you every step of the way.
He pauses, his thick cock buried about halfway in. He leans down and captures your lips in a tender kiss, his hips gently rolling to maintain the connection between you. He can feel your tightness around his cock, and it takes every ounce of his self-control not to fuck you senseless.
As he stares at where you’re connected he groans from the sights, your folds stretched wide around his thick shaft, your milky essence smeared all over his cock. He can't help but marvel at the sensation of your pulsing walls. Your tightness is almost overwhelming, and he can see a mix of pleasure and discomfort on your face.
He leans down and kisses you softly, his hips making slow, shallow movements to let you adjust to his size. "I know, sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs against your lips, whispering sweet reassurances and dirty encouragement in your ear.
He continues to push himself into you, little by little, until he finally bottoms out with a deep groan. You moan as you watch him close his eyes, his curls hovering over your face. Your cunt is stretched to its limits by his thick, girthy cock.
He relishes in the sight of you, your delicate flesh tightly hugging his dark shaft, your innocence now forever claimed by him.
As he begins to move within you, his hips rocking back and forth, he presses his coily pubic hair against your puffy clit, earning a gasp and a shiver from you. His round, juicy balls press against your ass cheeks, making you squirm.
You bury your face in his chest, your moans muffled against his skin as he continues to pump his cock inside you. You feel like your body is on fire, overwhelmed from the pleasure of finally being claimed by Michael.
He kisses the top of your head, his voice a soothing murmur. "You're doing so well, my love. Just relax and let me take care of you."
For a split second he pulls out, which makes you pout. He teasingly slaps his heavy cock against your swollen clit, the sensation making you gasp.
"Such a sensitive little clit," he chuckles, his voice laced with desire.
Not wanting to have you start whining, he thrusts back into you, groaning at the way your wetness coats his shaft and makes it glisten and drip down his heavy balls.
He picks up the pace slightly, a hunger evident in his movements. As your body moves along with his,your legs wrapped around his hips, he can't resist reaching for your soft skin, his fingers sinking into the supple flesh.
"God, you're so beautiful," he groans, his eyes locked onto the way your body moves under his touch. You blush.
You whimper, your voice laced with shyness. "Michael..."
He coaxes you gently, his breath hot against your ear. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."
Feeling more confident you let loose a little, not suppressing your noises. Moaning and calling his name next to his ear. Telling him you’re all his.
"Yes, that's it," he purrs, his thrusts becoming more urgent.
You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your voice grows more desperate. "F-feels so good, please…" the sound of skin slapping overwhelming your senses.
"You're mine, and I'm here to worship you, to give you everything you've ever wanted."
His words are like a spell, casting you deeper into a world of pleasure and submission. Your heart races, your body arching to meet his every thrust. You can feel his desire coursing through his veins, his need to please you, to make you feel like a princess.
"You own me, sweetheart," he continues, his voice husky. "You can have anything you want, anything you desire. Just tell me, and I'll make it happen. You're in control now, and I'm at your mercy."
Oh. my. Fucking. god.
Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes almost pop out of their sockets from his words. His promises, the way his cock so deliciously rolls inside your slick pussy, it's all just so overwhelming. You meet his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing.
"I want to make you feel like royalty, baby," he murmurs, his rhythm never faltering. "You deserve nothing but the best, and I'm going to give it to you. Every touch, every kiss, every inch of my cock inside you—it's all for you."
You dig your nails onto his shoulders, unable to say something back as pleasure takes over you. His words are a declaration of his devotion, and you can't help but surrender to the offer, always having wanted to be spoiled. You feel a sense of completeness you had never known before. You're his, and he's yours.
He continues to pump his fat cock into you, your squelching hole adding to the intensity. But greed is tugging at your heartstrings, and you can't help but let out whimpers of frustration. He senses your restlessness, but he's determined to be cautious and gentle with you.
"Please," you whimper, your voice tinged with need and desperation. "I want all of you."
He sighs, knowing where this conversation is headed. "Baby, I've told you, you need to be patient," he scolds gently.
You pout, your lower lip jutting out in a stubborn manner. "But I want it all, Michael. I can take it, I promise."
He raises an eyebrow, his tone firm. "You're not listening, little one. You can't rush this."
You let out a whine that tugs at his nerves, but he holds his ground. "It's gonna take time, a few weeks maybe, for you to fully take my cock." Yep, he’s that huge.
Your whining only intensifies, your frustration and desperation evident. "I don't want to wait weeks. I want it now."
He leans in closer, his voice taking on a dominant edge. "Listen to me, sweetheart. Taking all of my cock right now is unrealistic for your first time. You need to relax and let your body adjust."
You huff, untangling your legs from his hips. "You're being mean," you mutter.
He chuckles softly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I'm not being mean, baby. I'm being honest and realistic."
"But- but… ugh," you whine again.
He smirks, "You're such a spoiled, greedy girl, aren't you?"
Your cheeks flush, but you don't back down. "Yes, and?" you retort.
With a sigh, he gives in slightly, sliding a little more of his length inside you. You gasp, your body trembling as you adjust to the stretch.
He decides it's time to remind you of your place, to show you who's in control. In one swift motion, he plunges himself fully into you, all nine inches filling you to the brim.
You gasp, mouth agape, your back arching as a mixture of pleasure and discomfort washes over you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to the sensation, his dark eyes fixed on your face.
"See, baby?" he whispers, his voice low and commanding. "I knew you couldn't handle it."
You grit your teeth, determined to prove him wrong. "I can, I can take it." Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.
Rolling his eyes, he begins to thrust slowly. But after a few moments, he can see the pain in your eyes, the way your brows furrow and your lips tremble.
Without a word, he withdraws slightly, going back to sliding only half of his cock. He keeps his pace steady, his grip on your hips tight as he continues to move inside you.
"You need to be honest with me, sweetheart," he scolds gently, his voice a mixture of concern and authority. "I can tell when something's wrong. Don't push yourself too hard."
You nod, your stubborn facade finally giving way to the truth. "It hurts a little, but I want to take all of it."
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers in a low, dominant tone, "Well, you're not gonna get it all right now. And you know what? My cock isn't going anywhere. You'll have plenty of time to take every inch, little by little."
You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillows. "You're so frustrating."
He chuckles again, his hand caressing your cheek. "I know, baby. But it's for your own good."
You sigh, your head resting comfortably on the pillow. "Okay, fine. I'll try to be patient."
"That's my girl," he says, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "Now, let's focus on making you feel good, okay?"
Your pout slowly turns into a small smile as he resumes his gentle thrusts, his dominant teasing having its desired effect. As he grinds his hips against yours, he makes sure to keep a close eye on your reactions, determined to ensure your pleasure and comfort.
He can't help but be captivated by you. Your body glistening with a layer of sweat, your pussy coated in your shared creamy wetness. He groans at the erotic sight. His stiff cock slides effortlessly into your slick folds.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leans down and spits right onto your swollen clit, the wetness mixing with your juices and sliding down your folds. He repeats the action a few times, each drop of saliva making you gasp and your pussy clench around him.
"Such a dirty girl," he teases, his voice thick with desire. "You love how messy and wet it gets, don't you?"
You let out an embarrassed moan, your cheeks flushing as you try to deny it. "N-No, I don't..." You bite your lip, your breath hitching as you struggle to form a coherent response. "I... I just... It's..."
He nips at your earlobe, his voice a seductive purr. "Say it. Admit how much you love it."
Your voice comes out in a soft whimper, barely audible. "I... I love it."
He groans in response, the confirmation driving him wild. "That's it, baby. Doing so good for me."
You moan softly as his movements intensify, your fingers clutching the sheets beneath you. "Michael..."
He nuzzles against your neck, his lips brushing your heated skin. "Let go, my precious. Feel it all."
Michael's thrusts take on a more deliberate rhythm, his lengthy, thick cock filling your tiny virgin pussy with each deep thrust. His fingers rub your pulsing pearl swiftly, and you shut your eyes from how good it feels, your lips swollen from how much you've bitten down on them.
"There you go," he teases. "You love it, don't you? You love how my big cock fits perfectly in your needy hole."
Yes, you want to scream but the overwhelming pleasure stops you from it. Poor thing, you just want to say how much you like it, but your fuzzy state clouds your mind. How cute.
As you lose yourself to the euphoria, your moans become more uninhibited, louder, shameless. His own groans of pleasure resonate in the room. He knows you're getting close, so he rewards you by pushing his cock deeper into your tight warmth.
The sensation is almost overbearing for you, and your voice wavers between a gasp and a moan. You're so fucking close. Your heart races, and your breathing grows erratic, a single tear escaping and rolling down your flushed cheek. Noticing, he brings his face closer to yours and kisses it away, tasting the salty liquid on his tongue.
With his lips at your ear, he urges you on, his tone commanding and endearing. "Can feel you squeezing me, little one, c’mon, make a mess on my cock." His words drive you wild.
And then it happens. Your body trembles, and your legs shake. Your grip on him tightens, nails digging into his flesh, definitely leaving a mark. Your moans turn into cries. He watches the orgasm wash over you, your head thrown back with your mouth hanging open. Beautiful is the only word on his mind.
He feels you clench around him, the pulsating grip of your virgin pussy against his cock driving him wild. So fucking tight. He lets you ride out your sweet release, continuing to grind gently into you, prolonging your pleasure.
As the waves of your climax slowly subside, he holds you close, your erect nipples pressed against his toned front as you tremble in his arms. His lips press to your temple in a tender kiss. He whispers soothing words, guiding you through this new experience.
"Shh, my sweet girl," he coos, his voice grounding you. "You're doing so well. Just let it all out. I've got you."
Your cries gradually transform into shuddering breaths, and he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his chest. He stops his movements.
As your trembling subsides, he tenderly kisses your lips, lips pressed against each others for a bit as if to reassure you. "You did amazing, sweetheart," he whispers with a soft smile on his face.
He shifts slightly, his big hands finding your flushed face. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with genuine warmth. "You know, most girls wouldn't have been able to handle what you just went through. But you... you're something special." You feel so warm on the inside, knowing you made the right choice to give yourself to him.
He cups your cheeks, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture. "I'm so proud of you," he continues, his voice low and comforting. You whimper softly as he still holds you in his protective arms.
"Now, it's time for me to fill you up completely. I'm going to give you all of me, just like you've given yourself to me."
He resumes pumping his girthy cock into your slippery walls. You whimper as you’ve become a little sensitive from your orgasm. The edge of his climax overwhelms his senses. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, leaving little pecks all over.
"I love you," he murmurs, the feeling of the burning sensation in his lower stomach making him stumble over words as he bares his heart to you. "You're my princess, my everything. I was made for you, to satisfy every craving, to fulfill every desire." Your eyes widen, not expecting him to get so vulnerable. But you can’t deny the butterflies in your own tummy.
Whimpering, his thrusts become more urgent, his control slipping as his climax approaches. His muscles flex as he chases his high, now his hands digging into your hips. You gently kiss his cheek as encouragement, not knowing what else to do as you’re new to the realm of intimacy. This brings him over the edge, and with a guttural moan, he releases himself inside your drooling cunt. His hot, creamy cum spills from his sensitive tip, filling you up completely. He feels his shaft pulse as he keeps leaking more and more of his sticky seed into your little hole. You pant from the new feeling of his warm essence coating your walls.
After a few seconds, he breathes out and stares at where you two are connected. He pulls out carefully. Cursing under his breath, his eyes fixated on the sight before him, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he watches his cum leak out of your stretched hole, down your asshole, and onto the sheets. He feels a surge of possessiveness, knowing that he had left his mark on you in the most intimate way possible.
Still breathing heavily, he leans down to connect his lips to yours. "You're mine now," he whispers against your face. "And I'm yours. Forever." Your eyes lock with his, and you can see
nothing besides honesty and adoration on his face which makes you feel loved and cherished in a way you’ve never experienced before. 
Gently, he scoops you up in his arms, your form fitting perfectly against his sturdy frame. He carefully carries you to the bathroom to clean you up before laying back down onto the bed again. His movements are careful and tender, like he's holding something fragile. As he lays you down, he can't help but notice the fatigue in your eyes.
He settles beside you, his body enveloping yours. His arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close. It's as if your bodies are meant to fit together like a puzzle.
He looks into your eyes, concern etched on his face. "Do your legs feel achy?” he asks softly, his voice a gentle rumble. God, he’s so perfect. Of course, he cares about your legs aching after being spread open for so long. His warm palm travels south as he cups your pussy in his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Is it achy here too?” he grins. 
You gasp and shake your head slightly, too drained to put your thoughts into words. Your eyelids are heavy, your body feeling sated after the intense experience you've shared. “Aw, my poor baby,” he leans down and kisses you on the forehead.
He holds you even closer to his chest, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Rest, my princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You've had quite the night."
You manage a soft smile, your eyelashes fluttering as you fight against sleep. Your voice, barely above a whisper, reaches his ears. "Thank you... for making it special."
His heart swells at your words, the sincerity in your voice touching him deeply. "No, thank you," he whispers back. "Thank you for trusting me."
As you drift into slumber, nestled in his arms, he can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a gentle glow over your peaceful features, emphasizing the innocence and vulnerability that had captivated him from the start.
Gently caressing your cheek, the weight of his actions settles on him - he has taken your virginity, and he has done so with care and consideration. He wanted this to be a beautiful memory for you, something you will always cherish, and that's exactly what he did.
Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest as you sleep, your breaths even. It's a sight that fills him with a protective urge. Carefully, he adjusts the covers around you, ensuring you are comfortable. He knows that he holds your heart in his hands, and he intends to cherish it.
With a final caress, he whispers softly in your ear, "Sleep well, little one, I love you.”
In this quiet moment, he holds you with a possessive tenderness that speaks of his unyielding commitment. He is yours, body and soul, determined to be the best lover for you. And as you both rest in each other's arms, he knows he is exactly where he wants to be - with you, forever.
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© michaelsfavgirl 2024
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sssailorvanya · 4 months
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for once in my life, let me get what i want. [battinson]
please ignore my shit tenses | wc: 780(?)
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You’ve never been one to ask for more beyond what you’re given. Your feet are always impossibly cold and your smile is missing from your face these days. Winter’s hard enough as it is. You didn’t know how to feel about the mysterious man dressed up as a bat, running around at night to fight crime.
You’ve heard what this mysterious vigilante does to the rogue criminals he catches. You’ve even witnessed his brutality a few times, thankfully never aimed at you. He saved you once. You were walking home, with your cold feet and blank expression, and a group of men had jumped out of a nearby alley. You had thought, ‘oh fuck, here we go again,’ and prepared to hand over your meagre possessions. You had not anticipated the fearsome vigilante materialising out of nowhere, throttling the living daylights out of all the men until they cowered in fear. You had watched, dumbfounded, as he picked up your small, bright pink purse and handed it to you.
You almost wanted him to keep it, if only for the comical juxtaposition.
So, no, you don’t know how to feel about him. Gratitude is a motivating factor but, nowadays, you barely feel anything at all. You certainly don’t feel anything when he takes your cold hand the second time you meet (another mugging foiled) and awkwardly massages it.
“For the circulation,” He growls softly.
You hum and let him massage your hand.
The citizens of Gotham call him “the Batman”, or simply “the Bat”. Sometimes they’ll call him “Vengeance” with a capital V, but nobody answers when you ask why.
You’re not native to Gotham, but you’re not from a city which was its polar opposite either. The gloomy weather and gothic architecture is a welcome reminder of the home you unwillingly left behind.
The third time you meet him, you feel braver than before. “You ever heard of the PJ Masks?” You ask softly, watching as he delivers a harsh blow to an unconscious thug (muggings are very common in Gotham, especially when they can sense that you’re not from here). He glances back at you, his lips pursed and his eyes smeared with dark eyeliner. You wish you could take off the cowl and see his full expression.
“I haven’t,” He says softly. His voice is jarring to listen to. You can tell he’s a man of few words so whenever he speaks, you are enthralled. You don’t know why. What sort of lunatic would be fascinated by a bat vigilante?
Lunatics like you.
“It’s a good show. Reminds me of you,” You say. Your lips don’t curl up in a smile but it’s a near thing. Your feet feel warmer today.
He’s a man who talks little, but he humours you anyway. “Must be good then.” You think you imagine the minute twitch of his lips as he turns away, his fearsome cape dripping with droplets of rain and blood. You watch him go.
Your hands are still cold.
The fourth time you encounter him makes you feel as if he’s started to keep tabs on you specifically. There’s no reason for the fearsome Bat to be lurking outside the 7/11 closest to your little apartment at 2am, but he is there. There’s no thievery to put an end to and no criminals for him to terrify. There is just you and the bright lights of the 7/11 and the jalapeños-and-cheese baked concoction in your hands. Your eyes are glimmering in the artificial light as you break off a piece.
You offer it to him, a small smile playing on your lips. He takes it from you slowly, as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt you. Your feet are cosy and warm tonight. He doesn’t smile back but he does stand next to you all night. Gotham is quiet tonight. It’s a blessing in disguise for you both.
The last time you meet him, you are hurting all over. There is blood sliding down your face and your vision is blurred, but you know it’s him when someone takes your hand. He rubs your hand soothingly.
“For the… circulation… right?” You croak out. It’s hard to talk with chapped lips and broken teeth.
He doesn’t respond. His grip on your hand tightens.
Some upcoming villain in Gotham decided to launch a nefarious attack in the city centre. You were caught in the crossfire, as were many other civilians. But it’s you whom he chooses to comfort, and it’s you whom he clings onto as you fade away.
Your hand goes limp in his grasp. It’s cold.
But there’s a smile on your face and your feet are warm.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 7 months
Text
The way you look at her.
-Hyunjin
Warning: Fluff, angst, crying
Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader
Summary: Hyunjin introduces you to his girlfriend…Does he know you have feelings for him?
!Kinda proofread!
**
It was a tradition in our friend group to meet up every Friday evening to have dinner and watch a movie.
It always was and always will be as long as we were together.
"Dinners ready!" Leeknow will normally call after a long day in the kitchen or "the foods here!" Chan’s voice will fill the house calling everyone in the living room after ordering take out if Leeknow didn't feel like cooking or didn't have time. Felix will normally pick out the movie since he was the sunshine of the group no one would argue with him or even try. I.N and Seungmin will set up the living room with blankets. Changbin and Han will normally set up the projector and set up the film. Lastly me and Hyunjin will work on the snacks. We always work on the snacks.
That's how our dynamics work in the house. How it's always worked but today felt odd. It felt different. It felt dark.
Mad I’m packing up to leave work, I take a look at my watch and it reads 5:05 pm.
The weather outside was cloudy and rain seemed to threaten to fall.
A sigh escapes my lips as i leave the building that I hate with everything in me. My work office.
Today wasn't busy but I still hated it. The grey walls, nasty coffee, yelling phone calls and my banging headache from all the fumes that lingered in the air. Who wouldn't want to work at such an amazing place? Please realize the sarcasm.
My day was gloomy no doubt but the text that lit up my screen is what made my stomach turn. Well in a good way Ofcourse. A text from Hyunjin. My Hyunjin.
Hey princessa! Start the snacks without me today. I'm going to be late ;)
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion and shoot him a quick "okay" back but couldn't help but wonder why he was going to be late?
Hyunjin was never late. He knows how much I enjoy making snacks with him. He knows how much a cherished that time.
Maybe he had practice or something? Maybe I'm overthinking it. My thought process was interrupted my the door swinging wide open. I hadn't realized that I had gotten to the dorms already. I quickly put on a smile as I see Felix's wide smile as he squeals.
"Y/n's Here!" He jumps into my arms. Squeezing me in excitement.
"I missed you! How are you? How was work?" He bombards me with the normal questions he normally asks while helping me put my overnight bag down and jacket away. "Did Stacy from the office finally get with Jermey?" He gasps.
I let out a chuckle before answering all his questions, "I'm good Felix and work was tiring and no Stacy didn't but that’s tea for later!" He gasps even more.
"Okay okay Felix you're going to make her die with all your questions. Let her give some of us the attention." Chan says faking a pout and pulls me into a hug. "Hey kiddo, how are you?"
"I'm good Channie, how are you? Album almost done?"
"I wish, still needs more touches." He shrugs as we make our way into the living room. “How’s work tho? Have you found a new job yet?”
“No Channie, it’s really hard.” The work depression washes over me.
“Hey, don’t forget my offer. If you don’t find any other company that’ll take you, I’ll talk to our managers-“
“I know Channie, I just want to feel independent. You always take care of me!”
He lets out a laugh at my little tantrum causing me to roll my eyes. The conversation it interrupted by really loud Han’s voice.
"Y/nie!" Han gets up from the ground and hugs me
"Hey quokka!" I greet the boy who looked terribly confused like he always does when setting up the projector.
“The projector giving you a hard time?”
“No Changbin is” he whispers in my ears before rolling his eyes.
I take in the room and see that they were indeed working on the projector. The rest of the living room messy with either socks around or shirts from when the boys just take ‘em off whenever they want too.
"Hey Bin!!"
"Y/n not right now I'm focused! I'm in my zone!" He says with so much attitude making me burst out in laughter.
"Okay when your ready to greet me I'll be in the kitchen,”
"Yeah yeah...Han! Pass me that peace!" He says not bothered by my presence.
"Okay okay" Han mouths a 'help me' and I giggle at his flustraed look.
I leave them to do their thing and go to the kitchen where leeknow is cooking.
The scent of delicious food attacks my nose causing me to let out a moan and my tummy grumble.
"Leeknow!" I head behind the counter to great my hyung.
"Y/n!"
"I missed you! How was your week?" I give him a fist bump. He was currently cooking and was not in a position for a hug or hand shake.
"Same old same old, my body aches from practice." He shrugs as he seasons the chicken.
"Do you know whether or not I should make some crab or not?" He asks me.
"You should." I poke out my tongue before Chan walks into the room.
I look at the messy table and pick out and olive which causes leeknow to smack my hand and scold me.
"Ow." I pout.
"Leeknow don't forget that Hyun is bringing his girl today."
My body freezes. My head snaps in Chan's direction as a try to digest what he just said.
"H-his girl?" I ask him. The air in me being knocked out.
"Yeah apparently there's this girl he wants us to meet." Chan shrugs as his look at some papers on the dining table.
“O-okay,”
My head starts to spin. How could Hyunjin have a girl? Was she prettier than me? Was she blonde? Did she have blue eyes? Was she a foreigner like me?
So many questions run through my head. Tears threatening to fall from my eyes but the boys didn't seem to notice. Thank God.
I’ve had a crush on Hyunjin ever since I moved to Korea. Being a foreigner I thought he wouldn't like me at all. I still think that but the thought of him with another woman made me sick. It was bound to happen sooner or later but I was hoping later. Me and Hyunjin are like peanut butter and jelly or ketchup and fries. We went well together. If you saw Hyunjin you saw Y/n, if you saw Y/n you saw Hyunjin.
What hurt the most was the fact that he didn't tell me about this girl. He didn't have too but why didn't he? Wasn't it obvious that I liked him?
"Yah! Now great! I need more crabs and meat." Leeknows loud voice rings through my ear and I snap out of my trance looking up at him. "I.N!" He calls for the young maknae who is quick to come into the kitchen.
"Yes hyung. Im here- oh hi Y/n! I didn't see you come in!" He changes his direction and walks to me pulling me in his arms.
My chest is pumping at a high rate now and I swear I thought he could hear it.
"I.N! I need you to go to the store please!" He asks like a little kitten which makes I.N smile.
"Okay hyung what do you need?"
"Just these and make sure you bring the fresh kind."
"Oh more crabs?! What's the occasion today?" He asks scratching the back of his head worried that maybe he forgot something.
"Hyunjin's bringing over his girlfriend."
Great.
"Oh I thought Y/n was Hyunjin's girlfriend?" He teases.
"Me too but I geuss not." Leeknow shrugs and continues his cooking shenanigans.
"Ugh! You guys are so annoying." I play it off trying not to have a whole mental breakdown infront of them. I.N nudges me and I nudge him back cause both of us to push each other back and forth.
"Yah!! I.N no time to talk go to the store please." Leeknow scolds us.
"Y/n, come with me?" He asks me while tugging on my sleeves.
"Fine," I say needing a distraction.
With that we left the house walking down the street to the small shop. The walk being quiet.
"I know you're hurt, you can talk to me." I hear him say.
"I'm not oppa. I'm really not." He holds my hand to stop us from walking and he looks down into my eyes making me shift uncomfortably. Making me want to break down in his arms.
"Baby girl I've known you for 3 years, I know when your sad, when your angry, when your happy, when your anxious and when you’re hurt. So don't lie to me."
My heart slows down as a tear slowly slides down my cheek. He looks at me at frowns.
"Oppa." I softly call him.
"Hey hey, it's okay let it out." And I did. I cried as he pulled me into his arms. I knew today was going to be a bad day. I knew it.
"Why? Why does he have to do this to me I.N? He calls me his wife, he takes me to these different restaurants and he treats me like his girlfriend. I-I thought that maybe there was a chance- ugh I'm so stupid! I knew he wouldn't want to date a foreigner! I fucking knew it-"
"Y/nie! No no no don't you say that. Hyunjin is the stupid one for not seeing he has and amazing girl right infront of him. If he can't see it, it's his loss Y/n. Never let a man, no matter what man, make you feel small because of their stupid actions. You're a queen. A beautiful strong girl. You deserve everything."
He wiped my tears and calls me down by rubbing my back.
“And the boys and I don’t see you as a foreigner Y/n I thought we discussed this. When we look at you we don’t see ‘Y/n the foreigner’ we see our bestfriend and that’s all,” his frown turns in a small smile.
"T-thank you." I hiccup making him to chuckle.
"You look so cute." He says probably looking at my red face. He pulls out his phone and takes a picture of me causing me to blush.
"Come on now, let's get some ice cream and deliver these goods to leeknow before he cooks us."
"O-okay." I smile and he intertwines our fingers as we walked to the store buying all the things leeknow needed and then buying ourselves some ice cream.
"You know the other day I dyed a blue spot on dori," he says in the middle of our conversation.
I burst out laughing, so hard tears start running down my cheeks.
"W-what?! How?! How does that happen?!"
"I was dying my hair and dori was in the bathroom and I thought. 'I wonder if this will work on her' then I did it. Hyung was pissed. I had to hide from him for a whole week. Not eating his food because I didn't know if it was poisoned or not."
Now I was struggling for air as I look at I.N's traumatized look.
"You're so stupid for that Jeo, he could have chocked you in your sleep! You know once I poured water on Chan's laptop." I.N gasps in horror making me almost piss myself.
"I thought I was going to heaven that day and he kept saying 'if this doesn't turn on you better find a new family or a new home' and I got on my knees and prayed to all the Gods. Luckily it turned on."
“Is that why you’re not allowed in his home studio?” He asks eyes wide opened.
“Yeah but sometimes I sneak in there to listen to tracks.” The conversation was so good that I hadn't realized we were back at the house.
"You played with your life that day cause Chan would have hanged you, killed you, murdered you and still take you out your casket and find a way to kill you again." He laughs and wipes the icecream off my face.
We stand in the corridor hand in hand and I give him a smile.
"Thank you for making me feel better I.N," I tell him. He leans down and kisses my forehead.
"Anything for my baby sister, now let's go start on those snacks shall we?" I nod and remove my shoes.
The wooden floors sending a shiver up my spine.
"Y/n! Where have you been? I wanted to say hi but couldn't find you anywhere!" Seungmin exclaims getting up from the couch.
"We went to the store silly!" He hugs me and we have a little catch up in the living room before I.N drags me to the kitchen where Leeknow stands in the same position with a knife in his hand.
"There you guys are! I thought you both got kidnapped." Leeknow says taking the stuff out our hands.
“Told you not to send both the youngest kids to the store alone! But you wouldn’t listen,” Chan glanced at us then back to his papers while shaking his head.
"Well you're welcome!" We both exclaim at the same time making leeknow side eye us and continue his work.
"Now go! I'm almost setting the table." He shoos us out of the 'his' kitchen and we make our way to the rest of the boys. I sat on the couch in between Changbin, who finally gives me a hug, and Han, who is so Baby girl he automatically puts his legs on mine and cuddles by my side.
“Let’s play!” Felix shouts out and puts the game onto the table. Everyone was chatting and drinking their beers and we all quiet down when we hear the front door open and close.
We hear voices coming towards our direction. Was it them?
**
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igotanidea · 5 months
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Cold weather: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Christmas bingo day 14 : cold weather
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~Oh, the weather outside is frightful…~
“Turn it down.”
“Well, it’s not like the song has nothing to do with reality-“ Y/N retorted not really listening to Hotch’s command “it is particularly cold weather today.”
The words she used were quite an understatement. When the BAU team (strengthen by the fellow DA in the person of Y/N) left for yet another field action, there was no premonition of the upcoming blizzard and the temperature drop. Currently, it was hard to drive due to the heavy snowfall, but neither Y/N nor Derek seemed to be bothered by it. Maybe it was because they were both the passengers, but seemingly nothing could destroy their Christmas spirit, not even an unhinged killer on the loose. Obviously they were professional, as always, but their humour and attitude were something the chief of the unit were struggling to put up with, leaving him wondering why did he even choose those two to come with in the first place.  
“Turn it down.” This time it was far more stern, even for Aaron.
“Are you a Grinch now, Hotch?” Morgan grinned from the back seat, earning nothing more than a single grunt from his boss and turning the radio off. “Come on!”
“We’re at work.”
“So what?” Derek whined “working as the profiler does not come along with being gloomy during Christmas time-“
“Morgan!” Y/N felt the need to intervene upon noticing slight, almost untraceable frown on Hotch’s face “enough.” 
“Oh, so you’re siding with the boss now, Y/N?” the fellow agent leaned forward from behind the seat “Just so you know, sunshine, that’s treason.”
“He’s not my boss. I’m independent of FBI And what you just said is a slander. Pretty sure is punishable.”
“don’t give me the DA talk, Y/N. Besides-” her friend’s smile only grew wider as he moved to whisper in her ear “are you sure you are not biased because of someone’s presence?”
“Enough. Both of you.” Hotch silenced them way more effectively by pulling off the car, showing his discomfort with the subject of the conversation. Of course he knew, he was a profiler for god’s sake. “We’re here.”
Three other cars were already parked nearby and the rest of the team were waiting Obviously, the crime scene was the open area and they were going to investigate and look for clues during a snowstorm, in the cold, and almost in the dark.
“Tell me again, whose idea was it to come here right away? There is no chance we are going to find anything.” Morgan almost rolled his eyes at the nonsense of the action.
“Not with that attitude, Morgan.” Hotch muttered growlingly, turning up the collar of his coat “You could have stayed at the precinct if you’re just going to complain.”
“Can I still get back there?”
“Guys! Come and see this!” the only excited person present, Spencer, called from the side of the trees, already invested in the searching, standing knee-deep in the snow inspecting something that might have been a trace as well as some irrelevant dust brought by the wind.
“What you got there, kiddo?” Morgan almost instantly moved toward the direction from with Spencer’s voice was coming. He was surprisingly protective of the young doctor. Added value, that he finally left Y/N and the BAU boss alone.
“Cold?” Hotch asked
“What? Cold? Me? No. Not really. Not at all.” She shivered from an icy gust of wind.
“You’re shaking.”
“Am I? Really? Didn’t notice.” sticking hands in her pockets did not bring the intended effect at all.
“Maybe you should be the one heading back instead of Morgan?”
“No way! It’s my job to-“
“You’re the DA. There’s no body here. You’re useless here.”
Oh. Oh damn, that hurt.
“Useless?” she frowned feeling her cheeks flustering from the sudden rush of emotions, unable to hide it “Well I;m pretty sure if you keep dragging your team through the frozen lake in search for clues we will have a corpse in no time.”
Hotch raised an eyebrow.
“Wonder who will be useless then.” She scoffed and walked past him to join the rest of the BAU. However, she didn’t get far when a sudden grip on her hand made her stop in her tracks.
“You’re wasting time.” Hotch pointed out roughly, pulling her along, sticking her gloveless hand in the pocket of his  coat, entwining their fingers, effectively hiding the fact from the view.
***
“What got into your head?” he was fuming an hour later, his fiery gaze focused on her shaking silhouette covered by the thickest blanket they could find at the provincial precinct, sitting next to the radiator with the steaming cup of chamomile tea in her hands. “If you were my subordinate-“
“Good thing I am not then, agent Hotchner.” She cut him off with a mocking, teasing look.“Proved my point. Both of them, actually.” Yes, jumping to save Spencer, who turned out to be an unfortunate person under whom the ice broke, may not have been rational, but it was certainly heroic. “we almost had another body. And hey, guess I am not useless after all.”
 “We’ll see. But I might see some potential to keep you around.” Maybe it was an optic illusion but it seemed like the left corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“For work?” she smirked
“Yes.”
That piercing gaze were getting a little bit uncomfortable so just to cover for the additional shaking of her hands (not from the cold) she took a sip of her drink.
“L/N?”
“Hm?”
“You should use more hand cream. Your skin is scabrous.”
What the hell was he hinting at?!  
@somest1
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heich0e · 6 months
Text
the heart is but a winding road p.3 - shouto todoroki/f!reader (2k) pro-hero shouto, approx late 20s early 30s-ish, this is a begrudging father figure fic bc i can, fluff, someone pls give takahashi a raise
p.1 - p.2 - YOU ARE HERE - p.4 (upcoming)
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It’s still raining.
The gloomy weather doesn’t necessarily bother Shouto, it just… is. There’s not really much point in sulking over something unchangeable, so he doesn’t—even if he does grumble a bit as he towels off wet his hair after his patrol for the nth day in a row, trudging from the locker room at his agency up towards his office.
Takahashi meets him as the lift doors open onto his floor, bowing in greeting.
“Welcome back, Shouto-sama.”
“Hello,” Shouto greets his secretary, letting his towel rest looped around his neck. “It’s late, why are you still here?”
“I have some paperwork to hand off, and felt compelled to stay until you reported back for the day.” The two men begin making their way down the corridor towards Shouto’s private office, falling easily into step with one another after so many years. “Besides, there is another matter…”
Shouto pauses in the archway leading towards his personal office space. Takahashi’s desk sits just outside his office door, neatly organized as it usually is. There are a few plants in the tiny vestibule—though Shouto’s uncertain as to who actually put them there or tends to them—and a small seating area along one wall for anyone waiting for meetings with the pro-hero, even if he rarely schedules them.
Unusually, there’s someone sitting in those generally unoccupied chairs today.
A woman.
“She’s been here for most of the afternoon,” Takahashi says, keeping his words low and inconspicuous, spoken just on the edge of his breath. “She insisted that she’d wait to see you.”
Shouto blinks.
The visitor has spotted the two men now, and peers at them almost in surprise from across the room—like she scarcely expected to see the two of them at all, though she’s the interloper in this particular place. Shouto’s eyes flicker down to the small box held carefully on her lap, and the umbrella leaning up against her chair.
Oh.
You.
“Shall I ask her to return another day?” Takahashi quietly asks the man at his side, looking between his employer and the unexpected visitor in turn.
“No,” Shouto says, having emerged from his momentary stupor of surprise. He takes a step in your direction. “This is fine.”
You stand as the Pro Hero approaches, and he can’t help but notice you seem a little nervous.
“Hello, Shouto-san,” you say, bowing politely as he nears. “I’m sorry to turn up unexpectedly.”
“It’s no problem,” Shoto says, “Takah—my secretary informed me you’ve been waiting quite a while.”
You make a sheepish little expression. “I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to return, and it was important to me to see you in person.”
“I see,” Shouto nods, glancing once more at the box you’re clutching tightly in your hands. 
It’s quiet—ungracefully so—for a moment. Across the room, Takahashi clears his throat lightly.
Shouto lifts his hand, pointing a bit too briskly towards his office door for the gesture be considered elegant or well-practiced. “Would you like to speak inside?”
“Oh, yes, of course!” you nod. “I really do apologize, I know you just got back from patrol. I don’t mean to take up much of your time.”
Shouto steps towards the door to his office, holding it open for you to enter before him. You hesitate once you’ve crossed the threshold, uncertain what to do next. In the doorway, Shouto similarly hesitates—carefully contemplating whether to leave the door open or closed.
He doesn’t often welcome people into his office, and among the few he does, they’re certainly not civilians and even less frequently are they strangers. His office is fairly sparsely decorated, because he’s never really felt the need to decorate, but Takahashi keeps it tidy while he goes out on patrol. Shouto used to insist to the secretary that he didn’t need to do it, but he’s grown to appreciate the straightening up—and file alphabetizing—and has learned to accept it without complaint.
He's never had reason to be insecure about the austere nature of his workspace, but he's exceedingly conscious of it now that he doesn't even have a seat to offer you.
You suck in a breath before him, as though gathering your nerve, and Shouto’s eyes flicker over to you.
“I came to say thank you,” you tell him, and Shouto is taken aback by your air of sincerity. “For the gifts.”
He clears his throat, looking away from your overly earnest gaze.
“You’re welcome,” he says. ”Did your son like them?” 
“Are you kidding?” you blink, your expression startled like you can’t believe he’d even ask. “Nao loved them. He was so excited the first night he hardly slept, and he insisted on bringing all of them into bed with him—there was barely enough room for him to squeeze in.”
Shouto feels a certain peculiar sense of satisfaction hearing that.
Takahashi really had outdone himself in securing a variety of Recycling Hero merchandise for Shouto to have sent to you and Naoyuki. Frankly, Shouto wasn’t even aware that there was a Pro Hero with such an extensive array of branded goods—besides possibly All Might, and more recently Dynamight (though the majority of those products were unlicensed and manufactured by fans.) There were all the usual items—like keychains, figurines, clothing and other wearable accessories—but Reductro has recently branched out in a variety of ventures, like lunch boxes, reusable water bottles, and even adhesive bandages that are all made of organic compounds and can biodegrade. All of his merchandise is made of sustainable, organic materials, in the spirit of his environmentally conscious ethos.
Your eyes land on a rather large pile of packages next to Shouto’s desk, and your gaze traces them in relative alarm.
Ah. 
He’d forgotten about those.
“Um, are those for…” you trail off, your attention flittering over to him nervously.
“Oh, no,” Shouto replies. “Those belong to me.”
The pile of Reductro merchandise beside his desk is comprised of duplicates of what he’d had Takahashi secure to send to Naoyuki. When his secretary had sent him a list of items for him to choose from, he simply told him to purchase two of each: one for the boy, and one for himself.
You look at him a bit strangely then, though Shouto’s not entirely sure why.
“You’re a fan of Reductro?” you ask him.
Shouto nods. “I wasn’t overly familiar with him, but recently have become quite interested in his work.” 
He surveys the pile of packages beside his desk, and then his eyes flicker back to the box in your hands.
“It was largely thanks to your son.”
You laugh then—a bright, happy sound. Shouto wasn’t expecting it, so he startles slightly, his eyes snapping up to your smiling face. 
“Nao would be really happy to hear that, you know,” you say to him.
Shouto stares at you for a moment, until eventually you look away.
“We made these for you,” you say next, holding out the little box in your hands. “Nao and I.”
Shouto reaches out and takes the offering from you, though he’s hesitant. 
You would have had to pass security before entering the building, and he’s fairly confident you don’t seem the type to do him harm, but he’s still a bit wary as he lifts the lid of the container and peers inside.
“They’re cookies,” you tell him, a bit shy. “We weren’t sure how to say thank you, and they were Nao’s idea…”
Shouto isn’t sure what to say.
His experience tells him he shouldn’t accept the gift. Poisoning is a real threat for public figures, especially Pro Heroes. Even if the gift had passed security, they wouldn’t have been able to test for illicit ingredients or toxins, and sending them downstairs for testing would likely be troublesome—assuming that the research and development department of his agency even has the tools required to screen them.
But he can’t remember anyone making cookies for him before.
“It’s a recipe from Reductro’s cookbook, in case you’re wondering why they’re green—“ you step forward to explain, pointing down towards the little box of baked goods that Shouto is still blankly staring into.
His head pops up.
“There’s a cookbook?” 
You laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, and then you cough lightly as you look away. After a moment you peek back at him, nodding. 
“A few months ago, when we first got it, Nao refused to eat anything that didn’t come from it,” you say, smiling a little as though you’re reflecting fondly on the memory. “I’ve never seen a kid so excited to eat leafy greens.”
In his mind, Shouto makes a note to have Takahashi look into this as soon as possible.
“Well,” you say, clasping your hands together in front of your coat. “I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, and all the kind gifts you sent to Nao.”
Shouto shakes his head lightly. “Don’t mention it.”
“I’ll leave first,” you say, dipping in a bow. “Thank you very much for the work you do, Shouto-san.”
You step towards the office door—left ajar since Shouto never did decide whether he should leave it opened or closed.
“Um—“
You pause when you hear Shouto speak again, turning back towards him from the doorway.
“Please tell Naoyuki-kun that I’m grateful to him,” Shouto says, his brow furrowed like he’s deep in thought. “For introducing me to Reductro’s work.”
You smile softly. “I'll let him know.”
“And also for the cookies,” Shouto adds after another moment of thought.
“I'll tell him that too.”
Shouto nods, satisfied he’s said all he needs to say. 
“Goodnight, Shouto-san.” You dip your head in a final bow of parting, and then you slip out through the door.
Shouto stands in the centre of his office for a while after you depart, the box of cookies still open in his hands.
He plucks one out, surveying it closely on all sides—and then sniffing it for good measure. He glances towards the door with the cookie held to his lips, half expecting Takahashi to appear and chastise him. When he’s confident the secretary is not lurking just out of view, he takes a bite.
It’s… strange.
It certainly has the consistency of what Shouto would consider a cookie, but it’s not quite as sweet as he was expecting. He contemplates this thoughtfully as he chews. There’s also a distinctly vegetal flavour that lingers once he swallows the mouthful down, but he can’t say with any certainty what ingredient might be imparting that particular taste.
He appraises the cookie in his grip, missing one semi-circular bite mark. 
He likes it.
He pops the rest of the baked good into his mouth, shuffling towards his office door.
“Akahahi-han—“ he calls as he pokes his head out into the vestibule, and his secretary turns in his seat towards the sound of his name—or what was supposed to be his name, but was garbled thanks to the food in Shouto's mouth. He quickly swallows down his mouthful. “Where’s the nearest bookstore to here?” 
Takahashi turns to his computer, tapping away at his keyboard for a moment. 
“Six block northeast—located in the shopping centre where you apprehended the pickpocket with the adhesive-type quirk two weeks ago,” Takahashi relays his search results faithfully from his screen. 
Shouto nods, dipping back into his office.
He reappears a moment later with his jacket on, a baseball cap in his hand, and his little box of green cookies tucked safely under his arm. 
“I’m leaving first,” Shouto calls as he passes his secretary’s desk.
“Shouto-sama, is there something you require at the bookstore?” Takahashi rises swiftly from his seat and pursues the young Pro Hero towards the elevators. The two men stop and wait for the elevator to arrive once Shouto pushes the down arrow. “I’d be happy to retrieve it on your behalf.”
The doors slide open and Shouto steps in, pulling his baseball cap on over his head.
“There’s no need, you can head home for the day,”—the elevator dings as the doors begin to slide closed, Takahashi’s usually placid expression markedly perplexed at his employer’s peculiar behaviour—“I just need to pick up something for dinner."
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