#and this interior would suit it perfectly!

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive:

A filthy, haggard man sits on a sidewalk clutching a little cardboard sign reading "HOMELESS HUNGRY ANYTHING HELPS". An exotic sports car pulls up, parks, and the driver gets out. He's wearing an expensive tailored suit with slicked back hair and a Rolex watch. The perfect image of a powerful business executive.

He approaches the homeless man and tosses the keys to his car into the man's begging cup. The homeless man looks up, dumbfounded, as the executive proceeds to undress down to his underwear, neatly folding the clothes and placing them next to the homeless man. They meet eyes and the executive gives him his wallet, nods, then walks away.

Cut to the homeless man cruising down the highway in the fancy car. The suit fits him perfectly though his hair and beard are still unkempt. Soon he pulls up to a mansion in the Hollywood hills. The executive's home is now his, apparently.

Inside, a housekeeper wordlessly takes his coat. The interior is decorated in an eerily sterile modern style of sharp angles and neutral tones. Soon he comes to a lounge of some sort, with polished floors and low light. The executive's wife reclines on a bespoke chaise lounge, a glass of champagne in her hand. She beckons him forth to come closer as she slowly undoes her extravagant nightgown. All the while, the executive's son is in the corner playing a haunting melody on the cello with a blank stare on his face.

The homeless man approaches her as if hypnotized by the woman's gaze. Cut to reveal the executive's wife, her nude body lain bare. She does not have breasts or a vagina but instead a maw runs up the length of her torso, lined with grasping palps. The beak of a squid protrudes from within in, clacking and snapping as if laughing.

Want to be king for a day? It's not all it's cracked up to be. Have a Miller High Life, the champagne of beers.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 7 - Make it up as we go along

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Bit of assault towards Bucky (but not enough to hurt him), a just a note that this probably isn't the healthiest dynamic...

Ah surprise chapter drop! Hope you enjoy. I probably won't be able to post again until monday now. As always, I appreciate your lovely reblogs and comments. I'm so glad people are engaging with this series and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry!

(gif not reflective of how reader looks)

You knew he was right – you needed to clear the air, and fix whatever the hell was going on between you both (if anything). But you couldn’t resist being petty, lashing out after his poor treatment of you earlier. Granny always said be the bigger person…but she was a far better than woman than you.

“Sorry. Can’t. Not on the clock,” you shot back at him as you unlocked the car.

You opened the car door and his arm moved to your shoulder, holding you firmly to stop you from getting in. You held strong, not letting his touch melt you.

“Fine. I deserve that,” he said gruffly, “but I really do want to talk to you. Please”.

The softness in his voice caught you off guard and you found you were annoyed by the sudden wobble of weakness you felt. No! STRENGTH!

You sighed heavily. “Alright. Step into my office,” you gestured to the car.

You slipped into the driver’s seat as he dropped his hold from your arm, then he followed suit by getting into the passenger seat alongside you. The Mustang’s passenger seat looked almost comically small with his big bulk spread across it.

He turned to look at you, face perfectly illuminated by the parking lot lamps. It wasn’t fair that anyone could possibly look so hot in fluorescent lighting.

“This is a nice car,” he said admiringly as he looked around the interior.

“I know” you replied curtly. “She’s my girl”.

“What’s her name?”

“Sally”.

He blinked at you.

“Mustang…Sally? Really?”

You folded your arms defiantly. “Is that a problem?”

“No…no…it’s not…” but you could see in his face he was trying to hold back one of those stupid smirks.

“If you’ve come here to make fun of me you can get the hell out…”

“No! I haven’t. Christ. It’s just funny…that’s all. It’s…cute”.

“Shut up, James”.

“Ohhh…you found that out, huh?” he grinned wickedly. “Well joke’s on you, cos I like you saying it…”

You took a second to scowl and him, then stared ahead out of the windshield with your arms crossed, hoping you looked more mysterious stranger than you did tantruming toddler. The two of you sat uncomfortably in the resulting silence.

“I’ve been an ass,” he told you, his eyes intense.

“Yes, you fucking have” you growled back at him.

“I’m sorry…really-”

“Look…Bucky,” you interrupted him aggressively. “I get it, we kissed. It didn’t mean anything to you. Fine. Whatever. But you didn’t have to ignore me…you didn’t have to parade Amber around in front of me like-”

“Sugar…”

“No! I mean how hard would it have been to drop me a text? Or tell me you made a mistake? Literally anything…”

“Sug…can I speak-”

“I’m not some random girl in a bar, Bucky! You can’t just ignore me. We work together. You’re my boss. You can’t just lay one on me and act like I don’t exist and-”

“Sugar! I’m trying to explain myself here!!” he barked, but you seemed to be on a roll…the floodgates were open.

“And another thing! Why are you getting aggressive about me meeting guys?? I can date who I like! You don’t get to be angry, especially when-MMPH!”

Bucky had clamped his large metal hand over your mouth, quite literally silencing you. Your eyes widened in shock; his tactic must’ve worked because you were briefly stunned into submission.

“I’m sorry…that was rash of me, but I literally can’t get a word in edgewise…” he told you gently, his voice quiet as if trying to talk down a spooked horse. “If you’d just let me-”

You yelped and shrieked as you wrenched his hand from your mouth in disbelief.

“What the FUCK was that?” you squawked as you struck him on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, if you even could hurt him, but hard enough for him to curse and utter your name in incredulity.

Suddenly you were climbing over the seat and swatting at him, your anger boiling over. The inevitable purge after holding everything in all night. You knew it must’ve looked funny as he was so much larger than you, but your anger outweighed any self-consciousness.

“What. The. Fuck” you cried out, punctuating each word with a thwack to Bucky’s torso as he swore and tried to shuffle back, but the lack of space in the car meant he had nowhere to go. He just bumped into the passenger window as he exclaimed at you.

He quickly became tired of your attempted assault and wrapped his arms around yours, trapping them at your sides and effortlessly pulled you over the seats. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Enough of that!”

Suddenly you were incapacitated in his hold, essentially straddling his lap as you voiced your outrage and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Bucky! What the-”

“You wouldn’t stop hitting me and shouting in my face! Jesus! Do you have any idea what a menace you are?”

The two of you squabbled for a little longer, faces inches apart.

“If you would just listen…”

“You can’t just DO stuff like that!”

“Why do you have to fight me on every, single, thing?”

“Why can’t you just be upfront and direct with me for once?”

A sudden silence enveloped you both as if someone had flicked an off switch, the bickering now replaced with a shared penetrating stare between you the two of you. Almost nose to nose. It was as if you both realised your close proximity in the same moment.

You weren’t sure who went in first. But it didn’t matter. He freed your hands and they flew up into his hair as he kissed you roughly, and you kissed him back just as hard. It was heated, passionate but there was anger in there too. Pent up desire and rage, a deadly combination. You nipped roughly at his bottom lip with your teeth, and he hissed and retaliated by forcefully pulling you closer into him as the kisses became deeper and sloppier and your tongue was no longer yours but a separate force you couldn’t control. His hands made their way up your back, then moved back down across your waist, then he pulled you forwards and lifted your ass up and he squeezed fistfuls of it as he moaned into your mouth. Part of you wanted to slap him and call him a pervert but you were simply too caught up to do so. It was wrong but so right. You wanted to shun him and punish him, but you also couldn’t stay away from him. Damn him.

“You’re so annoying…” he murmured softly as he dotted kisses across your jawline.

“So are you…” you retorted as you rocked your hips against his lap and stretched to get more comfortable in the cramped car.

“I should’ve implemented a skirts-only uniform policy,” he growled as his hands explored the back of your jean-clad thighs.

“Stop talking,” you managed breathily before silencing him with another kiss.

He moved you further onto his lap again and you allowed him to. He was firm in his hold but never too rough. You leaned across him to pull the lever to recline the seat but in your urgency and ungainliness you managed to hit the horn with your backside, sending a loud tone that made both of you jump.

It seemed to snap you out of your stupor as you flung yourself back against the driver’s seat, your hands recoiling away from him like your fingers had been burnt.

“No…we gotta stop this,” you panted out as you regained your composure and smoothed down your mussed hair. The silence lay thick and heavy.

He sat back against his own seat looking a little bewildered. “Yeah…sorry. You’re right. I just…lost myself a little there,” he cleared his throat.

“You hurt me,” you told him meekly and unable to meet his gaze. “I feel really embarrassed. After we kissed…you didn’t get in touch. Then tonight you almost seemed annoyed I was there when you came in. And you spent the whole time with Amber, apart from when you got pissed at me for talking to another guy”.

You chewed your lip, mortified by your own vulnerability. But you were glad you finally said it out loud. It was the most honest thing you’d ever said to him.

You could see him nodding in your periphery. “I’m sorry, Sug,” he said quietly.

He took a deep breath. “That kiss…it did mean something to me you know”.

You finally turned to look at him, surprised by his admission. “What?”

He looked back at you. He seemed…smaller, somehow. “Of course it did,” he continued. “We both felt it, didn’t we? This thing between us. I feel a little crazy around you. You’re like this…brilliant woman. Smart and funny…makes the meanest spicy ‘marg for hundreds of miles,” he grinned.

Even you couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that.

“You also get under my skin in a way nobody else does. You make me so mad. But I can’t help being near you. And when you got hurt that night…I was so angry. Angry at myself for not protecting you. Angry at you for mouthing off and not getting help. I guess…I guess it sorta pushed me to finally make a move…and then Sam interrupted and…” he sighed “Fuck. I don’t know. I suddenly felt bad. I shouldn’t be hitting on my staff. Especially injured staff…”

“Yeah…but I wanted it too, Bucky. You know I did…”

“I know…But…I dunno, I wouldn’t want you to ever think I was taking advantage”.

You swallowed, absorbing everything he’d just told you. Yeah…that was reasonable. He was your boss after all and there was always going to be a weird power dynamic there, but you still had more questions than answers.

“Bucky…” you started quietly. “If you wanted the kiss…Why did you disappear? I didn’t hear from you…and then tonight…”

He interrupted you with a noise of frustration, but seemingly towards himself rather than you.

“Alright…look. This…well, there’s no way of spinning any of this that makes me look good here, alright? But I want to be honest with you…I’m not going to lie to you”.

You nodded, grateful for his candour but uneasy about what he might say. You stiffened but still turned to him and gave him your full attention.

“Okay…so. Like I said, I wanted the kiss. And I’m glad it happened. And I was gonna text…call…and I almost did so many times, I had your contact open on my phone and everything…but I guess…I panicked a little”.

“Panicked?”

“Yeah…I mean,” he sighed. “Because I really like you. And I’m not used to that. And on top of that, I’m your boss. And…you’re leaving town soon anyway. And…our relationship is sorta, volatile? I guess? I admit this is fucked up and chicken shit of me, but I kinda freaked out. I suppose I worried that if I jumped headfirst into something with you, it might be a mess. Or worse, I might fall hard, and it would be that much harder to see you go when the time came. I know you might think this is me taking the easy way out to give you the brush off…but it’s the truth”.

You sat in silence at his admission, eyes wide and lips parted. You were surprised at how open he was. The two of you had never really done ‘direct communication’ before…and it was eye opening to say the least. You knew deep down you agreed, you already knew that finally saying goodbye to him would be tough…you didn’t want to make it any tougher.

“I still shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry,” he told you with sincerity. “I’m not…good at this stuff”.

“And what about you and Amber? I mean the two of you…”

He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Look…there is no me and Amber…”

“But-” you interrupted harshly. “I’ve seen you..”

“No. Seriously, it’s the truth,” he explained as he ran a hand through his hair. “Amber is cute. She’s fun. Again, I won’t lie to you – we’ve fooled around in the past. But I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her. She knows that, I’ve never lied to her about that. But she tries. And I do care for her. But it’s just messing around. We flirt and it’s fun, and I know it might look I lead her on, but I consistently remind her where I stand. I guess maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind? I don’t want to outright ban her from the bar…but she turns up…and some of the guys are involved with her friends…and I guess I’m too clumsy to give the situation the care it deserves because I don’t want to give her false hope, but I don’t want to be outright mean to her either. I know you probably think I’m just some meathead biker juggling girls, but I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it”.

You noted the concern in his voice. He really did seem to care about handling it right, even if he wasn’t very good at it. But you remembered the extent of tonight and rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Bucky…that’s all very well and good…but she was sitting in your damn lap this evening. So you’re not exactly taking a hard line with her….” You scowled.

“Yeah…and did you see the part where I rolled my eyes and moved her away?”

“Oh, come on…”

“It’s true! I told her to back off, but you’d disappeared…”

“Don’t insult me…”

“I’m not, it’s the truth!” He frowned. “Okay, fine, maybe I need to be stricter with her. We’ve just been doing this back and forth for so long I sometimes forget how it must look…”

“Poor little you…”

“Oh, don’t give me that. What about you, huh? Flirting and giving out your number in front of me?”

“That’s different! You were ignoring me…I thought you’d knocked me back!”

“I saw that message was from Wanda but you made out it wasn’t…I know what you were doing. You were enjoying me being jealous…And yes, obviously I was jealous, so don’t think make a whole thing of it”.

You stopped suddenly, your cheeks feeling hot as he’d caught you out in your game. “Oops. Um…okay. Fine…”

You both sat quietly until he spoke again.

“I guess both of us have played a part in this, not being upfront with the other about how we feel”.

“Yeah…” you sighed. “That’s true enough…I’m still mad, though”.

“That’s okay. I deserve it”.

He nudged you playfully and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Damn him.

“Look…given how much drama there’s been already between us…Maybe we should just call it, put a stop to this thing and stay just friends and colleagues. Have quieter lives as a result,” you offered, unable to mask the melancholy in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah…that probably is for the best”.

You felt sad…but you knew it was the right move. All this drama and angst and you’d only shared a few kisses. Imagine how much worse it would get? What if you’d slept together?? And he was right earlier, this whole thing did have an expiration date. You didn’t want to have to quit your job even if it was temporary. You didn’t want to leave on bad terms because you were banging your boss, or because you were insecure about who else he was banging. It all came back to the same bottom line…you didn’t need this in your life. Not now. Not with Granny’s house.

This was for the best. This was a mature decision. This was growth.

Wait.

Wait.

Why is he looking at you like that…?

What is he….oh.

Uh oh.

“Bucky…” you pleaded softly, but his mouth was already on yours.

“Just friends,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“Just friends,” you whispered against his.

Shit.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

[comradekatara]

Im hardly in the atla fandom (rlly you are the only atla blog i follow) but occasionzlly i see a few posts and a lotta the ones concerning aang are so irksome. Posts that have aang showcasin any emotion apart from 'happy go lucky' almost always has the lil quip of 'oh theres the kyoshi coming out in him lol' which really downplays him so much more than ppl already do.

Like he cant even show emotion outside of the expected without it bein attributed to someone else like he's only a conduit for other avatars and not yknow, a character written to have an assortment of emotions

i feel like we (aang lovers aka common sense haters) say this every day, but no one ever actually considers aang’s motivations or interiority because his narrative and aesthetics are not sufficiently compelling to a western audience, especially when contrasted with zuko’s superficial appeal as a “traumatized edgy bad boy.” which is also funny because aang’s trauma honestly eclipses zuko’s, and also aang threw a secret dance party in a cave and helped katara do ecoterrorism and is generally way more cool and badass and tragic and charismatic.

not that it’s a competition. i also love zuko, to be fair. but i do feel like ppl have a tendency to pit them against each other, when in reality the entire point of the whole fucking show is that their bond when they actually collaborate in a friendship of equals forged in empathy and mutual understanding is what allows for balance to be achieved in the world. so pitting them against each other is undermining the show’s entire thesis, but it also perfectly illustrates how ppl will warp these characters to suit a predetermined cliched narrative bc they can’t handle even the barest modicum of complexity or nuance.

they can’t handle aang being flawed or internally complex or messy in any way, despite him literally being the protagonist. it’s how we get the idiot suits over at netflix trying to water down every single character into a single personality trait and no extraneous details or, yknow, flaws. like aang not even running away or wanting to shirk his responsibilities because that would make him to “unlikable” i guess. no one knows what good character writing looks like smh.

also the kyoshi thing was funny maybe like 16 years ago but at this point we literally have two novels full of kyoshi characterization that is good and nuanced. not that you have to read the novels or anything, but like. shouldn’t we know by now that kyoshi is not simply the embodiment of all that is aggressive and violent. and that’s not even how the avatar state works, so. but swagever.

#phoenix-before-the-flame #asks #aang #zuko #aang&zuko #kyoshi #sorry this response is very stream of consciousness and possibly incoherent #im tired….

[myster-roca]

Desires and Deception: Snake Operation Part 1

The thunderous cheers of the crowd faded away as I pumped my fists and struck a final victorious pose. The gleaming trophy for first place felt heavy in my curled arm, the stage lights casting a sheen over every ridge and valley of muscle on my competition-ready physique.

It was a moment of triumph that sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, amplified by the electric atmosphere of the event. From the front row, I could see Giovanni Salvatore on his feet applauding, his gaze fixed intensely on me. The plan was working flawlessly.

As the crowd dispersed within the opulent hotel hall, their murmurs echoed like distant thunderclaps. Since the bodybuilding contest was over, I handed my trophy to a member of my staff for safekeeping.

Descending from the stage, I navigated through the thinning clusters of guests, making my way toward Giovanni. With a respectful nod and acknowledging the presence of his vigilant guards, I approached Giovanni for a conversation. The faint scent of smoke mingled with his perfume, teasing my senses.

"Mr. Salvatore, thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. Your support means a lot," I said, my voice carrying an air of unwavering confidence.

"Leave us," he instructed his guards. With a subtle gesture, they retreated, granting us a semblance of privacy amid the crowd.

"Congratulations for winning, Derek. Your dedication to your passion is truly admirable," Giovanni remarked, his gaze fixed on mine.

"I can tell there's more to you than meets the eye. What's your story, if you don't mind me asking?"

The question hung in the air, stirring a mixture of nerves and excitement within me. The truth was, I wasn't actually Derek Steele, the fitness influencer and professional bodybuilder.

My real name is Alex, a specialized undercover agent tasked with taking down Giovanni's powerful crime empire.

Wearing a high-tech full body muscle suit that clung to me like a second skin, I matched Derek's physical appearance and exuded the confidence of someone who had elaborately planned this moment. Having trained rigorously for over a month, I captured Derek's personality and mastered his mannerisms perfectly to seduce Giovanni.

The real Derek is in our custody and wasn't even aware that I had assumed his identity for this dangerous assignment.

“I have many stories," I replied, my tone measured and calculated. "Some would say I'm a businessman, while others might call me a visionary.

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Visionary, eh? Do you have a business proposal for me?"

Before I had the chance to respond, Giovanni's hand made a swift move, targeting the bulge of my crotch under the shimmering fabric. Instinctively, I held back just in time, subtly shifting away from his advance while keeping my composure intact.

"Indeed, I do. But perhaps we should discuss it in a more... private setting."

"Of course," he replied smoothly. "Follow me to the penthouse. We can talk business there."

Giovanni and I made our way to the luxurious elevator together with Marco, Giovanni's most trusted bodyguard. The doors closed behind us, and we ascended towards an exclusive floor reserved for the Mafia boss, my heart racing with anticipation. 

Marco frisked me to ensure my safety at the suite.  Upon disembarking on the 47th floor, Marco guided us through a labyrinth of corridors until we stood before an imposing set of intricate glass doors. There, Marco left us alone before the entrance to the suite.

As Giovanni pushed the doors open, I was greeted by a stunning display of wealth. The interior was a masterclass in elegance and design, with opulent furnishings that whispered tales of far-flung travels and exquisite taste. 

"Make yourself comfortable, Derek," Giovanni said, gesturing towards the plush seating arrangements that adorned the room. "Would you care for a drink?"

I declined politely, my focus unwavering as his gaze locked onto the contours of my toned muscles.

Giovanni poured himself a drink, the clink of ice against glass punctuating the silence between us.

"Come, Derek," he said, his voice low and commanding. “Before we go further with this discussion...let me have a taste of that body first,” he continued, a smirk playing on his lips.

My pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of apprehension and determination lurking beneath the veneer of seduction.

Giovanni wasted no time in unbuckling his belt, allowing his pants to fall to his ankles. He then shed his navy blue blazer and removed his white polo shirt. The sight of his toned muscles beneath the fabric sent a ripple of awareness through me, reminding me of the dangerous game we were playing. 

With a nod and a carefully crafted smile, I watched as he walked confidently toward the master bedroom, leaving me to follow in his wake. 

The air thickened with anticipation as I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit bedroom. Giovanni was already lying on the bed, beckoning me over with a devilish smile when I entered. His eyes gleamed with a hunger that mirrored my own, but beneath the surface, I remained cool and composed, a master of deception playing my part to perfection.

“Strip and dance for me, Derek,” he purred, turning on the music.

I removed my glittered posing trunks, revealing my bare ass to Giovanni. He admired my physique with a hungry gaze — lingering on my rippled, broad arms, tracing the sculpted depth of my chest, and the tight contours of my chiseled abs. 

Then, he instructed me to strut around the room. Complying, I showcased my muscular form, swaying to the music, his eyes tracking every move I made.

Each step I took was meticulously calculated, every word crafted with deliberate care. To Giovanni, I was the willing prey, the unsuspecting victim ensnared by his seductive charms. 

He fancied himself as the hunter in this game, but little did he know, I was the one orchestrating the dance between predator and prey. Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.

"Dance for me like no one's watching," he said with his eyes fixated on my movements. I continued my performance with the feeling of excitement building inside me.

Caught in the thrill, I was abruptly stopped by Giovanni's command. "Let me have a closer look at your cock," he demanded, his attention fixated on my crotch. 

I hesitated momentarily but then turned around to reveal my aroused state.  In reality, it was a realistic prosthetic, designed to cover my own, its tip filled with a sedative resembling semen, poised to incapacitate him upon ingestion. The substance had begun to leak, and I needed to act quickly before it became noticeable.

“Oh, you're feeling excited, huh? You've got quite a nice cock there,” he remarked, his eyes gleaming with desire. I looked down, pretending to be flushed with embarrassment.

“I wanted to give you a treat,” I replied hesitantly, knowing that the plan was going as anticipated but also aware of the risks involved. As Giovanni continued to observe me, he noticed the clear liquid dripping from my erect cock. His eyes widened with surprise and amusement.

“Are you dripping precum? That's a lot,” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“Yeah, it happens sometimes when I'm really horny,” I replied with a grin, knowing that the ruse was working. Giovanni was completely taken in by my charade.

"I want to taste it," he said with a wicked grin. Before I could say anything, he got on his knees and took my erect cock into his mouth, sucking it with undeniable enthusiasm.

He sucked with a hunger that was almost primal, his tongue swirling around the shaft as his lips engulfed the tip. I looked down at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I wondered if the sedative was taking effect. 

“Oh my god... you taste so good,” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred. 

To my surprise, Giovanni showed no signs of slowing down. In fact, he seemed to be more energized than before. 

Confused and somewhat panicked, I decided to just go with the flow and see where things led. The sedative continued to flow out of my artificial cock, dripping down Giovanni's chin and onto the floor.

I just remembered that I needed to ensure enough of the sedative had entered his bloodstream to knock him out, as the effect would take a while. So, I continued to thrust into him with full force.

He didn't seem to notice or care, lost in the pleasure of tasting my synthetic cum. After what seemed like an eternity of passionate sucking, Giovanni eventually released my cock from his mouth, allowing some of the cum to drip onto the floor. He wiped his mouth, then scooped up some of it and rubbed it onto his own throbbing erection.

“Lean forward and let me lick your ass,” he demanded with a hungry look in his eyes.

Playing along to continue the charade, I obliged, bending forward to offer myself to him. Giovanni, eager and impatient, quickly spread my cheeks and dove in, his face pressing against me. The sensation of his tongue, licking and nibbling at my entrance, sent shivers of pleasure through me.

"Mmmmm... this is so good," he murmured against me, his breath warm against my skin, his voice vibrating with savory pleasure.

The pleasure was overwhelming, causing me to moan and writhe. My entire body trembled on the edge of release. Giovanni, sensing how close I was, redoubled his efforts, his tongue dancing over my most sensitive spot with a precision that promised nothing but ecstasy.

After it was over and his whispers faded into silence, I stood up and turned to see the satisfied expression on Giovanni’s face. 

"Fuck, you taste so good, buddy," Giovanni said, his smile beaming with pleasure.

The way Giovanni looked at me, it was strange—his mannerisms, his choice of words, even his actions seemed off from the Giovanni I had meticulously researched for over a month. It was as if I was dealing with a completely different person. This realization sent a ripple of alarm through me; the sedative hadn't taken effect yet, and I found myself scrambling mentally for another way to keep this unfamiliar Giovanni engaged.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? You seem a bit... distant," Giovanni's voice, laced with concern, broke through my thoughts.

I shook my head, plastering a practiced smile on my face to dispel any doubts he might harbor. "No, I'm fine. Just a little tired from the competition, that's all," I lied, hoping my voice sounded more convincing than I felt.

"Well, we can always take things slow tonight. No need to rush," he replied, his smile disarming.

"Thanks, Mr. Salvatore," I said, offering a gesture of respect and a momentary mask for my racing thoughts.

"Just call me Daddy," he insisted, his eyes softening, reducing the distance between us.

"Of course, Daddy," I acquiesced, my heart pounding not just from fear but also from the adrenaline and the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

"Maybe this will help you relax," he said as he wrapped his arm around my neck and leaned closer for a kiss.

As our lips touched, I pressed on, letting the kiss deepen, letting myself get lost in the illusion of passion. For now, I had to keep up the act, to play the part of the willing participant.

At that moment, a sudden memory flashed through my mind. I recalled that medications administered through the rectal mucosa can result in faster absorption into the bloodstream. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck me.

Without raising suspicion, I discreetly activated the hidden mechanism in my realistic prosthetic cock, releasing the backup sedative stored in its artificial balls. This action also caused my own erection to harden, and I made sure he could feel it growing firmer against his thigh as our bodies came closer together.

"Oh my god, your cock feels so fucking huge!" Giovanni exclaimed, his hand reaching down to grasp my shaft. "It's so much bigger than before when I sucked you." 

"That's because it wasn't quite ready when you sucked me earlier," I answered back, taking advantage of the opportunity to continue my charade.

Giovanni grinned widely, his hands stroking and gripping my throbbing member. His touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. He slid lower until his fingers reached the base of my shaft, cupping my balls gently. With a smirk, he teased me further, "Do you want to fuck me again?"

My heart skipped a beat as this was exactly what I needed. My plan had worked perfectly. Nodding with feigned eagerness, I whispered, "Yes, please," in response.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Giovanni walked toward the bed, lay down backward, and spread his legs wide open. His thick, muscular thighs gleamed in the low light of the room. His powerful arms held his head steady while his hands rested on his hips, inviting me to come closer.

"Come here, buddy," he called out, his voice filled with anticipation, "Show me how badly you want this."

I obliged, moving closer to the edge of the bed and slowly lowering my body onto his, aligning our groins. With determination, I seized the waistband of Giovanni’s briefs and yanked them down. Then, I grabbed his legs and spread them apart, exposing his tight hole. I paused for a moment, allowing myself to take in the view. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the task at hand.

Giovanni moaned softly as I rubbed my tip against his entrance. "Go ahead," he urged me. "Give it to me. Fuck me real hard."

Then I felt something warm and sticky gush out of my dickhead. A small amount of liquid oozed out of the tip of my cock and dripped onto his hole. Perfect timing.

I thrust forward, pushing my shaft deep inside him. Giovanni gasped as I entered him. I began to move slowly at first, then gradually picked up speed. Our bodies moved in rhythmic harmony, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

"Deeper, buddy, deeper. Fuck me harder," he urged, his breathing becoming heavier with every thrust.

I couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside him, the warmth and wetness of his insides enveloping me like a velvet glove. As I continued thrusting, I knew that with every stroke, more of the sedative would enter his body.

"Oh god, yeah! Fuck me harder!" Giovanni cried out, his breath coming in short pants. "Fill me up, fill me up with your hot seed!"

I increased the pace, slamming my hips into him with renewed vigor. I could feel my cock pulsing inside him, delivering the final dose of sedative directly into his bloodstream. With one last powerful thrust, I released a flood of liquid into his insides, ensuring that soon he would be rendered helpless by the sedative coursing through his veins.

As I withdrew my shaft from his body, I could see the dazed look in his eyes. He was already beginning to feel the effects of the sedative. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be completely under my control.

"Hey, let's switch positions," he suggested. "This time, I want to ride you."

I complied, lying down on the bed and spreading my legs wide open. Giovanni climbed on top of me, positioning himself between my legs. I watched as he straddled me, his strong hands holding my shoulders firmly.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the sound of our breathing.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he lowered himself onto me. I could feel his weight pressing down on me, his hot breath tickling my ear as he kissed along my jawline. I moaned softly, enjoying the sensation of being dominated by such a powerful man.

Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. How do I know that this isn't some kind of trick? What if this isn't the real Giovanni? What if there's someone else controlling him right now? The possibility sent chills down my spine.

"Who are you?" I demanded, opening my eyes to stare at him.

Giovanni froze, his eyes widening in surprise. "What do you mean?" he stammered.

"You don't sound like him," I said, trying to maintain my composure despite the rising panic in my chest.

"How did you kno—" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Before he could say anything else, I pushed him away from me, rolling onto my side. I lunged towards him and grabbed his face, pulling at it forcefully. 

To my shock, what I believed to be his skin stretched and gave way under my fingers, revealing it to be a realistic mask. Beneath the mask was not the familiar features of Giovanni but a face that did not match the body, implying he was also wearing a realistic muscle suit.

As the full effect of the sedative took hold, the figure before me could no longer maintain his ruse. He slumped to the ground as his body surrendered and plunged into unconsciousness.

"What's going on? What the hell is this?" I muttered, examining the mask with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Where's the real Giovanni?"

To be continued . . .

(For explicit version of this story, see link below:)

#male body transformation #male bodysuit #male transformation #male disguise #male impersonation #male body suit #male skin #male skinsuit

[soul-controller]

Working His Body(Suit) II [Teaser]

With his excitement exponentially ramping up as he turned the suit backwards and stared at the large slit that ran along the length of the suit’s spine, Martin’s boner found itself prodding some unintended places as his firm five-inches found itself rubbing along the gloriously sculpted and plump muscular ass cheeks. Rather than feeling embarrassed upon realizing what had occurred, it only caused the gay man to grow more excited as he envisioned a similar sight of his new bodybuilder-self bending over another gym jock and having his way with the jock’s perky ass. Eager to make this concept a reality, Martin moved his hands away from the suit’s shoulders to instead rest along the suit’s waist. Unsure of the right process of how to put the suit on, he opted to start with the legs first as if they were a pair of pants before moving up and applying the top half as if it was a t-shirt. 

With the burly shoulders falling forward as a result and causing the artificial arms to limply lay in a heap on the floor, the back slit grew larger and allowed Martin to finally begin the process of putting the suit on. Upon lifting his right leg up as far as it could go and pointing his foot, the employee plunged the limb deep into the suit as he aimed for the appropriate leg slot. As soon as his foot made contact with the inside of the bodysuit though, a palpable electric sensation coursed through his body as it seemed like both himself and the suit were excited about this potential pairing. This tingling only grew in intensity as the soft and gelatinous-like interior was filled down to the calf with the solidness of Martin’s leg. Upon feeling his toes make contact with the concrete floor, the man suddenly tilted his foot back to a 90-degree angle and allowed his foot and toes to fill the appropriate slots until the entirety of the suit’s right leg was now solid and functional. 

Although the realization that he was now in possession of a bodybuilder’s leg was quite the exciting one and thus made him want to take a moment to flex his insanely large thighs, the man refused to stop and marvel at it. As a result, Martin wasted no time allowing his left leg to replicate the process so he had two completely functional bodybuilder-sized limbs. But upon finishing that process, there was an additional step that would solidify his lower half’s transformation into that of a bodybuilder. The suit at this point was only functional up to 3/4ths of the bodybuilder’s upper thighs, due in part to the fact that he had neglected to pull the suit farther up to allow his average ass and modest cock to fill the deflated pouches intended for them. Eager to remedy this, Martin pulled the front of the elastic-like bodysuit out away from him and then up to allow his testicles, rock-hard cock, and ass to fill their corresponding points in the suit. For a moment, there was sudden loss of sensation as the man could no longer feel his boner, but this was quickly remedied as he felt something peculiar and thus looked down to his crotch. Instead of his normal-sized testicles and 5” cock, Martin’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw a tube of meat that had to be at least 7 inches and much girthier (which perfectly matched with his new low-hanging and large balls). 

Moving his hands behind him, the employee couldn’t resist gasping in amusement as he felt the sizable and incredibly firm ass cheeks that now violently jutted forth from his tailbone. Never in his life had he possessed or felt a derriere that was that immense and sculpted. From what he saw and felt from his lower half, he already felt like a Greek god...

After getting the job at his local S-C Fitness, Martin is shocked to find that his work uniform is actually a bodysuit of a rugged bodybuilder. Despite his reservations, the weak and average man's curiosity gets the best of him and he finds himself undressing and seeing what it's like to be so large and muscular. To read more about Martin’s experience as he continues to pull on the bodysuit and see what life is like as a tattooed hunk, click here to sign up for my Patreon!

#male transformation #bodysuit #bodybuilder tf #patreon #teaser

[thecameronchronicles]

Poolside

TW: Trophy!Wife Reader. Smut. Language. Cheating. 

SUMMARY: JJ mends your broken heart with a sultry distraction…

WORD COUNT: 2400

REQUESTED

Trophy wife!reader sad about her husband cheating on her and Pool boy!JJ makes her feel better 

Poolside 

You blamed yourself as you couldn't help but compare yourself to her. No more a friend than a stranger, the girl who coveted your side of the bed with your husband's arm wrapped around her was an acquaintance you saw in passing. She was a candidate for an assistant he claimed to need as you trusted him enough to ignore the fact they were all the same styled girl. 

Youthful. Impressionable. A minimum of a 34DD bra size and an apparent predilection for holding the attention of a married man. Because of this, the tears continued to cascade no matter your attempts to cease them. Even as you found anger to win over guilt or blame, you would always end up returned to such waterworks wondering why it was he chose her. 

After the life made together. The memories. The obstacles you believe you had overcome. All thrown to the wind for a girl unworthy of the smile she gave once leaving with the gall to kiss his cheek and flash a smile in your direction. 

"You 'lright Mrs-" Even the sound of a title you once basked to hold would only worsen your tears. Even when spoken by the honeyed tone of your handsome pool boy. The one you hired a few weeks prior from a forbidden curiosity you could fantasize about while standing within the safety of your kitchen. Every perfectly etched detail of his body responsible for such illicit visions that sent your thighs to press together with need. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked to the way you held your arms across your chest. 

"Can I ask you something?" You were unhinged in remaining demure. Always an accompaniment to your husband's arm, you rarely spoke your mind as it was often responded with silence or a judgemental look. But the question in your mind that played in a bitter repetition kept you from remaining silent for another moment. 

"Sure…" he shrugged, half focused on your delay and more on not directing his attention to the way your body peeked beneath the suit exposed by a draped cover. 

"Am I too old?" He scoffed. 

"What?!" The question caught him off guard as he laughed. 

"I mean…Do I…am I look attractive?" He fumbled to speak as his eyes darted in every other direction. Not a moment in which he could look at you without being more than honest. 

"JJ?"

"I really don't think I should say…" 

"Well considering the fact that I just found some girl maybe just out of high school with her legs around my husband's shoulders, I would consider it a favor if you were just honest with me. I can take it…" He paused, placing the pieces together before looking at the interior of the house. 

His own fantasy having come to life by your question as the possibility presented itself to him. Your husband was absent, and even if he wasn't, he didn't mind as much as he may have to keep this job in knowing such pain was brought to you. If not for the way he was uncertain, he would have made it his personal mission until you forgot of anybody but him. But he also found the presence of your smile to highlight his day. And due that and the fear of losing that, he remained as honest as he could without risking that. 

"You're a knockout and he's an idiot. Most Kooks are, always taking what they have for granted. I mean, personally, if it were me, I'd-" He stopped himself, the way you looked at him made him silent. 

"You'd…".

"I really shouldn't have said that…"

"Please…I want to know." He hesitated before meeting your eyes. 

"If it were me, I'd never let you leave that bedroom." His eyes fell to your lips as if to ask the silent question of risk you were desperate to make. But when neither of you ventured to move to it, he would be the one to retreat. 

"Sorry…I uh…I have your filter to check and the ph to-" You watched him fumble over himself. The usual arrogance of most "Kooks" resulting in a roll of your eyes. But his refreshing groundation made you close the distance between you. 

"Um…Mrs-"

"For right now, I'm nobody but yours, JJ…" You interrupted your own kiss as he allowed you to take the lead. Even if you knew little about him, you knew enough to know this would be worth the deception. 

"Touch me…" 

"I don't need directions, sweetheart…" he spoke softly with the slightest hint of dominance as he guided you flat to the angled lounge chair you had governed during your distressed breakdown. Yet he wasn't selfish or gluttonous. Instead, he was tender, pulling your recently stationary legs around his hips before he angled you onto your back. 

"I mean it. He's a fucking idiot…But I'm glad. Because I'm gonna make you feel things he couldn't even dream of…" His lips possessed your own as his hands worked carefully to undress you. A singular knot at the back of your neck was pulled loose as your breasts were exposed to him. Warm calloused hands took hold of one with expert fondling before moving to the other. When certain you approved, he lowered his mouth to the one closest to him.

"Do you like this?"

"Yes…" You fought a moan as he smirked against you. Your hands running softly through his hair before tugging as he captured your nipple between his teeth. 

"You sure you want to do this here? There's a perfect pool house with a nice bed we could break-"

"Here…please…" 

"You don't have to beg…" he lifted his hand to your cheek. 

"But you do make it sound so damn pretty for me, princess." You adored the way he focused on you. Never leaving a question if you were who he thought of as he kissed you. Not a moment of distraction as you noted from your husband. 

"Please…" He nipped at your jaw to your pleas before your fingers set at his hips. The dry trunks easy to maneuver before he lowered enough to keep himself out of reach. 

"You said that he had her legs over his shoulders?" The question made you scowl yet nod as you answered him. 

"Only fair you get the same." He untied the bows made at either hip of your bikini and you were left completely vulnerable to him. Yet somehow safe as he lowered between your thighs. 

"I want to know something first…and I want you to be honest with me…" he kissed your thigh before asking his question once you nodded. 

"He ever made you come?"

You hesitated, certain he must have at one point. But the wedding night he was too drunk. The honeymoon he was too busy. And every time since he had been distracted. Your only means of pleasure having come from your own fantasies and the trusty vibrator gifted by your maid of honor. 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll more than make up for it." He kisses you once at your core. Yet once was enough to send your back into an arch and your fingers through his hair in a pull. 

"I like it…" he acknowledged as you lessened your grip. "Let's me know you want it."

"I do…" you confessed as he spread your thighs wider to expose you to him. 

"Then let me hear it, darling." The sound of his tongue and the dictions made behind his grin made his order impossible to deny. His name accompanied by moans motivated him even deeper before he altered his angle. Two fingers to his mouth and eyes set to you pulled his fingers between your lower lips. 

"He ever make you this wet? Honest, princess." 

"No-" You rasped. 

"Good…he doesn't deserve to…" He kissed softly at your clit before savoring the small bud. He sucked and licked in alterations as his fingers worked you into a tremble. Your eyes, unable to remain open until he offered himself a reprieve to learn your reaction to him. But as he expected you to ask for more or even wait for him to act, you directed him to sit on the edge of the lounge chair. 

"Mrs-" Before your name could be uttered, you had undressed and revealed him to you, his cock spring to life from hr freedom your fingers allowed. A single spray of spit lubricating him enough to rub him into initial pleasure as you twisted that grip before beginning your oral fixation to his head. 

Due to his impressive cock, you began slowly, focusing on livening every nerve and vein on his shaft before your nose brushed his skin. The gag made from your throat worrying him to pull you back by your cheeks. 

"You don't have to…"

"Am I doing something wrong?" 

"I'm about two sucks from coming…" he teased. 

"But I want more…" You explained with sultry eyes narrowing into a siren's existence as he grinned widely before his lips fell limp. Exhausted and shallow breaths came from his attempt to subdue his release and lengthen his stamina. His body tightening as you cupped the weight beneath him. 

"Jesus!" 

"Mmm…mmm…mmmmmmm…" You moaned with the intent to use the vibrations to strengthen those sensations as he raised his hips into your grin until he'd brought himself to that edge. 

"Stand up…" he commanded in an unsteady display of his own desperation before aligning you to stand over him. The second you were reliant on his weight, he adjusted the chair until it was flat. 

"I want to watch you…" 

"Then watch me, JJ…" His back arched and his eyes rolled as you rode over him. His cock almost too much for you to enjoy without being anxious, but his facial contortions of pleasure offering you the confidence you questioned otherwise. 

"Fuck, sweetheart…You feel so damn good…"

"I want you to come inside me, JJ…" His eyes widened. 

"I don't-I don't have a condom." You lowered over him as his hands fell from your breasts and to your hips. 

"IUD, you're good…"

"You sure?" 

"Positive…" But as he read your conviction behind your smile and blissed expression, he sat up. 

" Not like this…" Your eyes sharpened into worry of rejection. 

"I need to feel all of you." He lifted you around him and into the pool house. You weren't able to make it to the bedroom as you were taken over the arm of the couch. 

"Asshole doesn't deserve to hear you come. Or see it on any of his little cameras." You blushed as you'd forgotten about it until now. 

"You're all mine now, sweetheart. Just like you said." You nodded. 

"Yours." He swiped a hand across your ass to the agreement. 

"Again, princess. I only come in what's mine."

"Yours, JJ. I'm yours…" You whined as he nodded. 

"Good girl…" He sunk into you with conviction. But not for his own benefit. He was slow and thorough as he pulled you to his lips. 

"You deserve to be touched like this…" His hand fell to your breast as another surprised you at your clit. 

"To come hard. And often." He quickened both sets of hands. 

"And you will do both. With me." You rested your head against his shoulder as he picked up his pace. Unbridled passion behind each snap of his hips as you were taken against him and kept upright by his sting arms flexed to keep you in place. 

"Yes! JJ!" You gasped. 

"You gonna come for me, princess?"

"Yes!"

"Then come. Don't hold back. You deserve to feel-" Before he could finish his endorsement, you were cascading down his shaft and clenching around him in validation of your release. But then he threatened to stop, withdrawing as your hands wrapped around his hips. 

"I want you to come, JJ…"

"It'll be too much."

"I can handle it…" you turned to tease his lips. "Please…" His jaw tensed for only a second before he brought you over his lap. 

"A few more for me, sweetheart? I want it to last…" you took charge of the position he set you in as you took him back into your mouth. Only now, it was with his sole pleasure in mind. But a finger to your sex from your raised hips would counter this. 

"JJ…It's your turn…" 

"Making you come makes me want to…Keep going for me…" He used his second hand to make a ponytail from your hair as you were able to bob effortlessly around him. 

"That's my girl…shit!" He gasped, his fingers inside of you quickening as you trembled over him. Your pace breaking to a coming orgasm as he winced to the sound you made around his cock.

"Come ride me baby…" You moved swiftly and effectively as you pegged yourself onto his shaft. Quick motions made of new thrusts as your fingers ate into the fabric of the couch behind his head. 

"JJ! You feel so good!"

"Fuck!" He relaxed as you slipped over him. His fingers at once with each cheek making up your perfect ass. 

"You're so fucking beautiful…he doesn't deserve you…" his words accompanied your moans as you became lost in the sensations of his thick fulfillment. 

"I'm gonna come…" He set your forehead to his as you came apart within. Every control lost as he became submissive for that moment you claimed him as he had done for you. 

"Did I mention your husband's an idiot?" He explained as you nodded. Your eyes coming to the ring on your hand. JJ noticed the way it brought you sadness and he pulled your hand to his lips. The ring disappearing behind his teeth and a naked hand left behind. 

"I think your hand would look a bit better…" He directed your hand to his cock. "Here…" 

"You want more?" 

"I've wanted this a while, princess. Got one more fantasy to play out."

"Yeah? What's that?" 

"Making sure he knows what he lost…" he motioned to the camera set in perfect view of you as you were no longer the sad woman an hour prior. You were no longer chaste or shy as JJ altered both of those feelings for you. Instead, you were motivated and carnal. Wanting to please him and only him. 

And you would spend the rest of the day returning the favor, understanding why your husband optioned for the younger version as you decided if he could have his vices then you would have yours as well….

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

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[moonseonghwa]

Games- Kim Hongjoong

Summary: You are Mr. Kim's favorite student. It was clear when he took you to an event to meet a publisher. However, neither of you actually expected the night to end with you under him.

Warnings: Professor! Hongjoong, Student! reader, aged up! Hongjoong, protected sex, choking, swearing, Age difference between reader and Hongjoong is 5 years and reader is of age. Not proofread so please read through my mistakes.

Mature content, minors dni!!!

The weather outside was chilly, the light breeze hitting your exposed arms as you waited outside in the garden of an old fancy mansion. You were invited by Mr. Kim---one of your professors, because he wanted to introduce you to a good publisher.

 It was an honor, but you felt out of place to be here alone. Saving yourself the embarrassment of walking inside the building alone, you only had one option– waiting outside for Mr. Park to arrive, which made you almost freeze your arms off since you underestimated the weather when choosing your dress. The venue was crowded. Wealthy-looking people made their way around you as they entered the building. You wondered how Mr. Kim knew about this event and why he would invite you of all people. 

He has always praised you for your writing skills, telling you many kind words and helping you when you can’t do something the way you want to on your own. You couldn’t help but develop a small crush on the absurdly young successful professor who every student thought was extremely good-looking. 

‘’Y/n’’ You heard the familiar deep voice yell, making you turn around to see him getting out of his way too-expensive car. Your eyes wandered over his insane body proportions, the black suit looking far too good on his well-built body. His hair was slicked back on one side, the raven locks falling on the other side perfectly. Your eyes locked with his, noticing the desire in his eyes before shrugging away that thought. 

Inappropriate.

‘’Let’s go inside’’ He cleared his throat, bringing his mind away from the sinful things in the back of his head. 

But he couldn’t help to notice the way the dress hugged your curves perfectly, the slit revealing your upper thigh and the low neckline exposing your cleavage only slightly to leave the rest for imagination. It was truly a sight to see.

You nodded, following him into the beautiful place. It was safe to say you were starstruck by the interior of the hallway when you walked inside. The golden decorations matched perfectly with the dark red painted wall underneath, leading to two tall doors. The ball room was filled with people, champagne glasses being handed out to everyone as the chatter almost became deafening. 

‘’Do you like it?’’ Mr. Kim asked, making you look at him with wide eyes.

‘’Like it? Mr. Kim this place is beautiful’’ You asked, excitement taking over your tone as you walked by his side through the gorgeous hallway. It felt natural to have him by your side, almost feeling the urge to interlock your arm with his. ‘’Have you attended this event before?’’

‘’Please, call me Hongjoong, we’re not at uni now’’ He began, ‘’I have, the owner of the event is a good friend of mine, that’s why I thought this was the perfect opportunity for you’’ He said, making you cock your eyebrows.

‘’Why?’’ 

‘’You are talented Y/n, a kind I haven’t seen before in all of the books I’ve read.’’ He replied, and there was a kind of sincerity in his words that made your cheeks turn pink. 

‘’Do you want a drink?’’ He asked when both of you entered the immense hall. You nodded, making him stop the waiter to take a glass of champagne for you before giving it to you, your fingers touching as you felt the electricity of his hand skin against yours. 

‘’You’re not drinking?’’ 

‘’I’m driving’’ He replied before asking the waiter for a glass of water. ‘’I can drive you home after, only if you feel comfortable with that’’ 

‘’I’d like that, Mr. Kim’’ 

‘’Hongjoong’’ He corrected you sternly, making you chuckle a bit.

‘’Hongjoong, sorry’’ You repeated, and somehow he felt something deep inside him when he heard you say his name like that. It sounded different from your mouth, more pleasant and comfortable. The only thing he could think of was you saying his name over and over. 

The attraction between you and him has always been there, it’s been obvious. The sexual tension was always evident when you stayed after classes to go through some questions with him you could’ve easily figured out on your own. His eyes gave it away, and frankly, yours did too. 

Mistaking the obvious touches for accidents and noticing— the more you spend time with him, the more comfortable both of you got. However, both of you never actually acted on it, keeping the desire locked and hidden for others to see. 

Which is delusional, since he’s your professor and boundaries like that shouldn’t be crossed. And in the most wrongful way, that exact reason added to the thrill of it all. Somehow it is a game —waiting for the other to break while pretending both know nothing about it. 

Your thoughts got interrupted by a small push from someone behind you and Hongjoong’s hand around the small of your back as he pulled you closer. 

‘’Careful, love’’ He rasped in your ear, making your core tighten at his words. 

He kept you close the whole night, introducing you to several important-looking people. After a while you got a bit tired, making you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Inside, you wetted a towel with cold water and softly dampened your burning cheeks with it. Hongjoong’s hand was still in your mind, his low voice playing on and on. 

You threw the towel into the small basket as you made your way out of the bathroom. When you turned the corner, you were met with Hongjoong leaning against the wall as he looked at his phone. You cleared your throat, making Hongjoong lift his head before smiling at you. 

‘’Took you long enough’’ 

‘’Ladies bathrooms are just interesting, couldn’t help but inspect the quality of their soap, you know’’ You replied, making him chuckle softly. ‘’Were you waiting for me?’’

‘’I was, I wanted to get out of here’’ He replied, standing straight again as he walked towards you ‘’Bring you home like I promised’’ He added.

‘’Let’s go then’’ You replied in a teasing tone as both of you started walking towards the exit. 

The air in the car was heavy, and your eyes were focused on his hand as it worked skillfully on the steering wheel. 

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ You spoke up, breaking the unbearable silence in the dark car. 

‘’Anything’’ He replied, tapping one finger on the wheel. 

‘’Do you feel it too’’ 

There you go, the pen dropped. No turning back now as you just half confessed your attraction towards your male professor. 

‘’Y/n, this is a dangerous game you’re playing’’ He replied, head leaning back as he came to a stop while the red traffic light illuminated his face. 

‘’I know, that’s why I’m asking, because I’m pretty sure you feel the same’’ You daringly said, wanting to punch yourself for telling him all this. It’s the champagne, definitely. 

‘’Maybe I do’’ 

‘’What would you do if you did?’’ You provoked him, as he gripped the steering wheel tighter to stop him from telling you all the things he wants to do with you. 

‘’I’d make you feel it because I’m not good with my words’’ He said, hand dropping on his lap before turning to you ‘’I make it up with my hands, darling’’ 

And you swore you’ve never felt yourself growing hotter than you were right now. Your breathing became heavy as he stopped in front of your place. 

‘’Go inside, Y/n’’ He said, placing his jacket just right so you wouldn’t be able to see his growing dick. ‘’Don’t start something you won’t be able to handle’’ 

So you got up, grabbing your bad as you stepped out of the car. You closed the door as you went into your apartment building, knowing he was going to follow you anyways. 

Entering your home, it only took five minutes before you heard a knock on your door. Only six minutes to see Hongjoong.

 Seven minutes to have his lips on yours, devouring them as if you were the only person he could ever kiss. Your hands were in his hair as his hands were on your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 

‘’We’re gonna fucking regret this’’ He growled against your mouth as you pulled off his jacket.

‘’Shut up and fuck me, Hongjoong’’ You replied, opening his buttons. 

‘’Don’t tell me what to do’’ He said, his hand closing around your throat, applying pressure on the side as he kissed you again, pushing you towards the couch as you struggled to find your zipper. ‘’Let me’’ He turned you around, kissing the sides of your neck slowly, sucking and biting, making you moan out softly. 

His fingers slid down the zipper slowly, his mouth next to your ear as the dress fell down, revealing your body only covered in lace panties. It was a sight to see for him as he turned you around to get a good look. 

‘’You’re beautiful’’ He said, before you began to unbuckle his belt as he took off his shirt, revealing his toned figure. 

He pushed you on the bed, climbing over you as he sucked on the valley of your breasts, making his way down your belly to the hem of your panties. ‘’You smell nice’’ He remarked, taking in your vanilla scent. 

‘’Please’’ You whimpered as he was so close to touching you. 

‘’Please who?’’ He teased, taking off your panties slowly as his hungry eyes watched you. 

‘’Please Joong, I need you inside’’ You whined. ‘’Skip the foreplay, I need you right now’’

‘’Good girl’’ he murmured as your inside twisted at his words. ‘’So wet for me’’

His pants and boxers were off in a split second, revealing his hard member. He looked so hot, his hand wrapping a condom around him as he came back closer to you. ‘’Turn around, baby’’ He ordered, making you comply immediately. 

You felt him tease your entrance with his tip as he held your hips up, before entering you slowly while you felt all of him. His hands massaged your hips as he came to a halt inside of you. 

‘’Fuck, you feel amazing’’ 

You felt like you could come any second, his words making you feel dizzy as he started moving inside of you making you moan his name over and over just as he had imagined. Your insides clenched around him as he groaned before picking up the pace. He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up against him as his hand went back around your waist, the other wrapping around your throat to keep you steady as he slammed into you from behind. Your hands held his neck as you were so close. 

He felt it, bringing one hand down to rub circles around your clit, pushing you toward the edge. 

‘’Come for me, show me how much you love my cock’’ He groaned out in your ear as you fell apart around him, trembling in his arms before he pushed you back on the bed softly. Slamming into you to chase his own high.

It took him one more thrust to shoot his load into the condom as he rode out his high while chanting your name. Feeling like you were seeing stars, he pulled out of you to take off the condom as you laid on your back with a smile on your face because wow. 

He dropped next to you, bringing his hand around your waist as he kissed your neck, his fingers getting the strand of hair out of your face. 

‘’Good?’’

‘’Really fucking good’’ You breathed out as you chuckled.

#hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong x reader #teacher hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez fanfic

[agaypanic]

another Benny x human reader idea i have is that they are in the mist of a supernatural showdown/battle and it goes so horribly wrong that the reader nearly dies but luckily because of Benny being so protective of her he gets brave and uses his magic to save her life and from the fear of losing her

Prom Night (Benny Weir X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: When Jesse turns up at the prom, you and your friends have to stop him from trying to get Sarah in his clutches. In an attempt to get her to join him and his wannabe cult, he tries forcing her to turn into a full vampire by biting Ethan. But Ethan’s not the only one who gets a run in with death.

A/N: i don’t remember the exact plot of the S1 finale episode and i dont feel like looking it up or watching for reference. also fuck canon, the gang + reader are in junior/senior year bc when i went to school, prom (ik it’s not specifically prom in the episode but im making it prom) was only for upperclassmen and i still think it’s wild that the boys are 14-15 + freshmen/sophomores while the girls are 17-18 + juniors/seniors

***

You had been dreaming of this day since you were a little girl, as cliche as that sounded. The fancy dress, the cutest date, the perfect night. You had the dress; you looked with Sarah and Erica for weeks and even found shoes that matched perfectly. You had the date, your boyfriend Benny gave you the cheesiest and best promposal using magic and the help of your friends. Now, you were waiting to have the best night of your teenage years.

It started with Benny picking you up. Despite dating you for a few years, he was still stumbling over his words at the sight of you when you opened the door. 

“Wow, you’re-” Benny cut off his high-pitched voice by clearing his throat, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. “God, you look beautiful, Y/n.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Bens.” You grinned, letting him into the house. You gave him a kiss, and your mom startled you by snapping a picture with her camera.

“Okay, lovebirds, pose for me.” The two of you complied, arms wrapped around each other and smiles wide as your mom blinded you with the camera’s flash. After a few hundred pictures, she finally let you leave the house. 

You were surprised to step out onto your front porch and find a limo parked in front of your house. Benny held out his arm for you to take, and he opened the car door for you to slide in first.

“Benny, how did you afford this?” You asked, looking at the beautiful interior as the limo drove off. 

“Me and the guys chipped in. And I may have used my devilish charm to get a discount.” You and Benny both knew what he meant by ‘charm,’ especially by him wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re gonna go to Ethan’s to get him and Sarah, and then we’ll pick up Erica and Rory at their houses.”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to see Sarah and Erica’s dresses. They’re so perfect.”

“Yeah, I bet they are.” Benny kissed the side of your head. “I wanted to pick you up first, though, so we could have some alone time. Everything’s been so crazy lately.”

You smiled, grabbing Benny’s arm to put over your shoulders so you could tuck yourself into his side. The two of you talked about little things that you weren’t able to tell each other due to monster fights or big homework assignments taking priority. As the limo became filled with your friends, the conversation split into multiple topics until you finally reached the school.

“You look good in blue.” You told your boyfriend, eyeing his outfit in the disco lights. “I was a bit scared that you would look kinda ridiculous in this suit, but you honestly look pretty hot.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t look at least a little ridiculous.” Benny laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. “But thank you, baby. Wanna dance?”

“I’d love to.” You slipped your hand into his outreached one, and he dragged you to the center of the gym as a slow song came on.

The night you dreamed of was going perfectly. You danced with your boyfriend practically all night, although you danced with all your friends to the more upbeat songs. Benny couldn’t stop telling you how pretty you were, keeping at least one hand on you the whole evening.

“I’m getting kind of hungry!” You had to almost shout in Benny’s ear for him to hear you, being drowned out by the crowd of students and blaring music. “Should we get out of here?”

“Whatever you want, babe!” Benny responded, guiding you through the dancing crowd to the gym wall. 

“You go get the limo, I’ll round everyone up and meet you outside.” Benny nodded and gave you a parting kiss before exiting the gym, leaving you to find your friends. The task was pretty easy: you found Ethan and Sarah dancing in the corner of the dance floor, Rory trying to flirt with girls and absolutely tearing up the snack table, and Erica giving glares to anyone who got too close to her or asked her to dance with them.

You all left the gym together and headed for the front entrance, where Benny was probably waiting with the limousine. The hallways were dark, which was a bit strange, but none of you questioned it.

“Any ideas on where to go?” You asked, the front entrance in sight. “I just know I’m starving.”

“Oh! There’s this new place that opened up on the other side of town! Totally fancy.” Rory said.

“Are we sure we can afford fancy food?” Ethan asked. “We could get some fast food.” You laughed.

“Oh yeah. Let’s take the limo through a drive-through, I’d love to see that.”

“Leaving so soon?” A voice echoed down a hallway to your left. Everyone turned and tried looking down the dark hall to see a mysterious figure. The person walked towards you slowly, stopping when they were visible to you.

Jesse Black.

“Thought you’d save me a dance, Sarah.” He approached the girl, giving her a faux pout. You and Ethan moved to stand in front of her, staring Jesse down.

“Guys, are you ready?” Benny came through the front entrance in a hurry. “The limo’s waiting. Why are you- Oh.” He halted next to you when he saw Jesse, who smirked at him. Immediately, Benny put a hand on your elbow to gently tug you behind him, so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ethan, shielding you and Sarah from Jesse’s view.

“Relax, Weird,” Jesse said, tilting his head. “I’m not here for your little girlfriend.” In a flash, Jesse pushed everyone away from Sarah with his telekinesis. You groaned in pain as you hit the floor, Benny landing next to you. “Heard you’re still a fledgling, Sarah. Honestly, I expected better.”

“Get away from her!” Ethan shouted, slowly standing up. Jesse ignored him, still looking at Sarah, slowly moving closer. With every step he took forward, she took a step back.

“I’ve been doing some thinking, baby. I want you back.”

“In your dreams, Jesse.”

“That’s cute, really.”

“I said get away from her!” Ethan launched himself at Jesse. But thanks to his vampire agility, Jesse grabbed the boy by the lapels of his suit jacket and threw him at the wall.

“Don’t hurt him!” Sarah shouted, ready to run to Ethan’s aide, but Jesse reached him first. Everyone froze as Jesse taunted Sarah, tearing Ethan’s sleeve near the cuff and putting his wrist close to his fangs.

“Look at yourself, Sarah. It’s like you have feelings for the little pipsqueak.” Jesse laughed as if the idea itself was a big joke. But Sarah didn’t respond. Jesse took her silence as confirmation. “Holy shit, you do.”

Erica and Rory ran at Jesse from opposite sides, hoping to catch him off guard. But Jesse unfortunately saw it coming, stepping back and pushing Rory into Erica, making them fall and slide away on the floor.

“You wanna be with him so bad?” Jesse asked Sarah, paying the rest of you barely any mind. “Let me help you with that.”

Ethan screamed in pain as Jesse sunk his fangs into his wrist. Ethan crumbled in the vampire’s hold until he was dropped onto the floor, writhing around as the venom started to spread. Sarah ran to the boy, trying to figure out how to help him. Jesse simply walked away.

“Hope you like him enough to spend all of eternity with him,” Jesse called out behind his shoulder. “If not, you’ll know where to find me.”

While Sarah whimpered frantic apologies to Ethan, Benny left your side to follow Jesse. Worried for your boyfriend’s safety and what he was about to do, you were hot on his tail.

“Get back here!” Benny shouted. You wondered how nobody had wandered out of the gym to see what all the commotion was. “I said get back here!” Benny shot a spark at the evil vampire, which was quickly dodged. In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend was held up against the wall in a chokehold, slowly struggling to breathe.

“Wanna be like your friend over there, Weir?” Jesse asked with an evil, toothy grin. He moved his hand to uncover the side of Benny’s neck, using his other hand to tilt his head to the side. 

It was a bit of a struggle with the heels and dress and all, but you launched yourself at Jesse, yanking his head away from your boyfriend’s neck before he could sink his teeth into him. Jesse let go of Benny to try and pull your limbs off of him, but you had an iron grip. 

Jesse backed himself into the row of lockers behind you, slamming your body into them. You yelped at the pain but did your best to hold onto him. Jesse didn’t appreciate your stubbornness, throwing his head back to headbutt you, which subsequently bashed your head against the metal behind you. It caught you off guard, the dizziness loosening your hold just enough for Jesse to push you off of him.

He turned around and picked you up, your wooziness worsening from getting up so fast, and threw you down the hall. You passed out from exhaustion and pain seconds after hitting the floor.

Jesse let out a low whistle and looked at Benny, who was sitting against the wall wheezing.

“She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” Jesse grinned, turning back to the exit. “Good luck with that.” Then he was gone.

Benny, too weak and lightheaded to stand, crawled over to you. He felt bad for passing Ethan to get to you, but Sarah and Rory seemed to be doing their best to help him. Benny soon reached your unconscious body, with Erica placing your head in her lap to keep it elevated.

“It’s bad, Benny.” She muttered to him, lifting a hand from under your head to show her fingers, which were lightly coated in blood. “She must’ve cut her head on the locker slats.”

“Shit.” Benny hissed, his own injuries forgotten as he focused on you. He didn’t have to be a doctor to know that head wounds were bad, probably even more since you were unconscious. “I don’t know what to do.” He said helplessly.

“Don’t you know a spell that can heal wounds or something?”

“Yeah, but not off the top of my head!”

“Well, remember!” Erica commanded. “I know you can remember, Benny. Do it.” Erica wished to be less harsh, but she knew she’d rather bully Benny into remembering a spell to heal you and apologize later than lose you.

Benny wracked his brain, trying to summon the spell to the front of his mind. But there seemed to be nothing but guilt. He should’ve known something bad would happen tonight, he should’ve prepared for it. He should’ve protected you from Jesse, but instead, you protected him. And now look at you, slowly losing a pulse.

“Benny,” Erica whispered, adjusting your limp body in her hold. “You can’t feel guilty for letting Y/n get hurt. You have to help her now. That’s what you owe her, not guilt.”

If Benny wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve joked about Erica going soft. Carefully, he took you from Erica’s grasp, putting your head in his hands. Benny hated to take a guess in such a situation, but he placed his hands on your head wound, which was wet and sticky, and started muttering an incantation that he hoped was a healing spell.

Benny closed his eyes to keep focus, repeating his words in desperation. Erica watched the faint glow coming from his hands seep into the cut. Slowly but surely, Benny felt the wound seal itself shut, the only evidence that you had it in the first place being the blood that slightly matted your hair.

“Oh, thank God.” Benny let out a breath of relief as you took a deep and sudden breath. He lifted your body to hold you close to his chest while you slowly gained consciousness. His cheek rested against the top of your head, trying to comfort both you and himself.

“What happened?” You asked weakly, trying to sit up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Benny answered quickly, gently stopping you from leaving your place against him. “It’s okay now; you’re okay now.” Erica gave you a weak smile and stood, walking away to give you some space. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” You asked, looking at Benny curiously.

“You’ve been looking forward to this night for, like, forever. And then it got ruined by all this.”

“You’re acting like it’s your fault, Bens.” You raised a hand to cup Benny’s cheek, and he immediately leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Despite the recent events, you smiled up at him. “I wanted to have the perfect and most fun-filled night with the cutest guy I could ever love. And I got just that.”

“Your head was slammed into a locker, and you probably almost died.” You simply shrugged.

“Everyone has their own definition of fun.” The two of you laughed quietly, and you sat up enough to kiss Benny’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He responded, kissing you again before hugging you tight against him.

#agaypanic #benny weir x reader #benny weir #my babysitter's a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire

[ceruleancattail]

First and foremost I wanna say congrats on 1,300 Ceru!💖💖💖 You literally deserve every follower and more, your writings are so immersive and well-written and you bring so, so much to this little fandom that you are practically a pillar in my humble opinion! Not to mention you are such a sweet friend and a joy to talk to and interact with! FRFR I’m really happy we met.🥺

Ngl, I’m a bit embarrassed to actually request fluff for Leona Kingscholar... BUT I WANNA SUPPORT YOU BBY SO HERE IT GOES. ATEM (Hopefully this is okay? I like NEVER request things bc I’m too embarrassed.)

Sorta based off my last art? Pre-existing situation-ship? Because of the hectic events that always happen at Night Raven College the two never seem to get time alone to be a “normal” couple. The lion man is so down bad he actually agrees when the Sage Island Diner is suggested after one of his Spelldrive games. They looked so cute cheering him on after all. In fact, he might secretly have a soft spot for these things: vinyl records, vintage movies, and greasy diner food. He’s such a pushover he even finds a used car on the island so he can drive them around on their very first date. Leona never thought he’d be the sentimental type, but when his feisty Cottontail’s gaze softens on him as they slide in his passenger seat, maybe it’s all been worth the trouble. (BRB GONNA GO DELETE MY BLOG NOW.) Love you, Ceru!

Challenges

Dreamy Day Event

Leona x reader

Leaning back into your seat, leather smooth against your legs. The backrest creaked backwards, slanted for your comfort. The interior reeked of air freshener, the sharp scent stinging your nostrils. It hung from the mirror, dangling loosely. It was loosely modelled in the shape of a leaf, an startling emerald green.

The same colour as the driver’s eyes.

Those emerald pupils flickered up to the mirror, a scar jagging through one of them. As if sensing your gaze, the edges of his eyes crinkled in a smile.

An elbow found it’s way into your arm, jabbing at you playfully. You shove back, huffing. Rapping your knuckles on the wheel, you gestured forward.

“Focus, Leona. I refuse to have that dinner as my last meal.”

A snarky laugh, bursting from the depths of Leona’s gut. A deep chuckle, slightly raspy. It geared against your ears as it echoed through the car.

It wasn’t the most unpleasant sound, honestly.

To your disappointment, his hand didn’t return to the wheel. With a chuckle, Leona drops his arm over your shoulders, a weight pressing onto your form.

Warmth pulses through it, bleeding into your skin. Like daisies in the sun, you muse silently. Despite yourself, you find yourself melting into his touch. Forget daises. You’re a slab of butter, left to the mercy of the gentle, golden rays of the sun.

His hand caresses your skin, fingers tapping into you. A clumsy beat, following the song crackling through the speakers. An old song, with the vocalist particularly purring into the microphone.

Singing about love, of course.

What else?

Retro seemed to be the theme for today. Your gaze flickers to Leona. His outfit certainly reflected that.

A leather jacket, left open over a white shirt. His belt peeked from underneath, a skull of an animal of some sort acting as the buckle. With well-worn jeans and those sharp cowboy boots, Leona looked as if he just stepped out of one of Vil’s photoshoots.

Seating there, behind the wheel, there was just something so… natural about him. You can’t help but find his style oddly charming.

It wasn’t perfectly sculpted, styled to the latest trends. It was a rather simple,casual fit. You let your gaze wander, taking a good look at the man behind the wheel.

It suited Leona well.

A finger poked into your cheek, curling slightly. Clicking his tongue, Leona stroked your cheek much like how one would pet a fluffy little bunny. The ghost of a smirk playing on his lips,ivory white canines peeking out from within.

“Well, aren’t ya going to say anything, cottontail?”

Snorting, your head plops onto his shoulder. Nuzzling up to the crook of Leona’s neck.

“Thank you for the date, you arse.”

Carmel locks of hair brush against your neck, as Leona reciprocates the action. His head rests on yours, ears twitching ever so slightly. Stifling a laugh, you shove him off you.

“That tickles, fur ball !”

Raising an eyebrow, Leona bares his fangs at you. Snapping them playfully, nipping at you. His elbow jabs into your ribs, nudging you gently.

“Nah, nah, there’s something else ya gotta’ say, herbivore.

You know those three magic words, sweetheart.”

With a quick glance outside, Leona brings the car to a complete stop. You glare at him, curiosity burning within your eyes. He only shrugs, shoulders moving in one fluid motion. Raising his hands, Leona shoots you a grin, overflowing with smugness.

“I’m not driving until you say them to me, cottontail.”

Crossing your arms, you fix him with a stern look.

“You’re impossible.”

Barking out a laugh, Leona moved forward, resting his chin on his palm.

“I thought you liked a challenge?”

“No I don’t.”

Leaning in, your hands entangle themselves within those sweet caramel locks of his. Pulling him closer. The tip of your nose grazed his, Leona’s breath wafting over your lips.

“I love them.”

Your eyes met his.

“I love you.”

The corner of his lips twitch upwards. A sappy smile.

“Love ya too, cottontail.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Leona #Leona x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #Dreamy Day #HELP REN YOU GOT ME ALL SHY AND SHIT #LITERALLY SCREAMING #NAH NAH NAH I DON’T WRITE THAT GOOD BUT THANK YOU #A PILLAR IS OVERSTATING WJANWMWKWKWKKWKWIW UWAHHHHHHHBHHH #YOU CAN COOK AN EGG ON MY FACE #AHHHHHHHHHH #THANK YOU UEEEEEEEWWW #I HOPE THIS IS OK WISNSMNSJS #Leona behind a car wheel just makes so much sense to me #have fun on your date!!!!

[monstercampus]

Archangel Professor & Isaac of Virtue - First Meeting

(cws: none)

Considering how many demons you've met at the school so far, it's a little shocking to hear from your harpy classmate that there's a chapel on campus. Especially since you haven't seen such a building anywhere in your tours, but you wonder if perhaps it's due to the sensitive nature of such a place. It's not exactly something you're planning on looking out for, but when she mentions it, the idea sticks in your head for the rest of class.

It's but a week later that you notice the distinct chiming of a bell on your way to the dining hall for lunch, the brisk Sunday morning chilly and damp but not enough to stop you from diverting your path to follow it. It entrances you in a way, leads you down a cobblestone path right up the steps of an enormous cathedral sat squarely in the midst of the university's sprawling gardens. It looms over you in an almost intimidating way, so tall and grand with the kind of elegant architecture you'd see in any travel magazine for some historically exotic vacation spot. As you venture through the tall but shockingly light front doors, your eyes lock on to the first thing that enters your vision; a being standing before the pulpit that stands as if he was awaiting your arrival, alongside a smaller companion that busies himself with organizing what looks to be the donations from a busy service. Once the doors squeal shut with a heavy thud behind you, he lifts his head to look over his shoulder, his feathery white wings flicking up in surprise before he regains himself and turns to face you fully with a grin.

The church itself resembles one you would probably see back home, but only in the symbolic sense alone. There are pews lined from back to front, a podium for one to deliver sermons, stained-glass windows at the far end and gorgeously decorated walls and floors lined with eternal candles that burn forever. But unlike back home, there's a touch of nature inside the chapel; a light breeze blows through the room and sends tiny glitters of stardust careening through the air, and while there certainly looks to be a roof from the outside, all you see upon looking upwards is a cover of clouds that obscures all that lies within. Unlike the gloomy skies outside, this artificial one glows with a rosy-pink hue that casts over the whole interior, giving the cathedral a dreamy edge-of-sunset glow that feels as though you're seeing through rose-tinted glasses.

The archangel–who you only recognize as such upon thinking back to your Holy World History classes–isn't at all what you thought they would look like. His blinding white two-piece suit is the only part of him that betrays any humanity; the rest of him is a mishmash of different features that don't seem to meld together. His hands float in tune with the movement of his arms but they aren't attached, rather there's an empty space between his wrists and palms. Where there should be a head, there's nothing but eyes; a faint cloud of tiny, sparkling bits of stardust seems to be the only thing that indicates the space where his eyes remain in place. And a pair of huge, heavenly wings sit folded up against his back, yet they're so large even on his tall frame that they scrape the ground and leave small, glowing scratches of gold that brighten before quickly fading into nothing.

His assistant, however, appears to be astoundingly human. The young man watches you through snow-white eyes and a fringe of soft, pale blond hair, which is otherwise perfectly combed down and trimmed at the neck. The suit he wears resembles his mentor's to a T, aside from the jacket he's missing that leaves him only in the perfectly creased pants and black dress shirt. Somehow, despite the very air emanating a holiness here, something about his particular gaze betrays…well, it holds a hint of lechery to it, especially as his attention flickers between meeting your eyes and catching the bared skin of your ankles beneath your jeans as you halt in front of them. Here, in this moment, you feel the heavy uncertainty weigh on your shoulders at standing before the judge and jury.

"Here only a moment, and already you tempt my steward." A voice booms authoritatively from the head of the cathedral, and at that, the archangel's assistant guiltily turns his eyes away from you, and you're left feeling shame heat your chest despite doing nothing wrong. "Is there anything of note that you require, human, or do you desire nothing but to waste my time?"

The severity of the tongue-lashing you've just gotten could send you into shock had you not grown used to the terrifyingly abnormal by now. You would expect a being of such grandiosity and holiness to address you with gentleness and love–but this archangel speaks with bitterness hot on his tongue, so stern you feel like a child being reprimanded despite not knowing what for.

"Professor, the human has no ill intentions. I believe the Dean instructed us to welcome them with open arms." The angel leans over to murmur those words quite conspicuously, clearly forgoing the guilt of his stare in favour of easing himself into that tense space between yourself and the archangel. In this chapel, you feel he may as well be the only one on your side. Yet, if it weren't wholly improper, you would be sure you'd see those dozens of eyes rolling as the archangel heaves a breathy sigh.

"Welcome to our esteemed campus. I thank you for defiling our holy ground without warning nor reason." Suddenly, as if godly in nature, a crack of thunder erupts and the clouds overhead grow dark and worrisome. Yet despite the frightening shift, neither the archangel nor his assistant bat an eye as if the ill omen is an everyday occurrence–though the former does huff quietly, clearly aware of who that warning was meant for. "...Pardon my faithless utterances. I beg your forgiveness."

You distinctly hear the angel at his side mutter something about someone upstairs giving them an earful for that. Although the archangel himself couldn't sound less uncaring about his own apology nor whether you'd accept it, you do, and in return the professor takes his leave with a sweep of his wings around his frame–just barely avoiding clipping you with his feathers as he takes off in a golden blur into the sky, diving upright into the sea of clouds above and disappearing completely.

In the silence that follows, the protégé himself sighs. In the absence of his superior, he introduces himself as the angel, Isaac of Virtue, and the professor as archangel Mikael, formerly Dominion. All hefty titles, yet without much more you desire to say or to see, you turn your eyes away from the brilliant light and move to take your leave of this chapel that clearly wishes not to welcome you.

But Isaac catches your wrist as you do so, his mentor's many eyes having turned away and vanished to attend to whatever is his business. His smile carries a gentler edge this time, just as cool and soft to the touch as his palm on your skin as it lingers there.

"Don't mind the professor's words, human. He's….well, he's ancient," Isaac chuckles, the lighthearted attempt at a joke doing what he hoped and drawing a small smile out of you. "He doesn't really mind humans as much as it seems. He's just…well, he's quite stubborn. Very set in his ways…" That last part comes out quiet and soft in the airy space between the pews. However, when he inquires about any questions you might have that he'd be happy to answer, only one comes to your mind at the moment.

"Um…do all angels…are they like..?" You gesture towards your own eyes, although your focus shifts above his head to spot the twinkling of something as the light refracts off of it. It's invisible to the naked eye, but you could swear you see some kind of halo shape hovering there in the prismatic glow.

Isaac seems to understand your words without you speaking the rest of them, his grip loosening but not letting go–and with a nod, he proves his answer by closing his eyes. When he opens them again, three more pairs crack open down each of his cheeks and blink to take you into focus, the three extra sets surveying you independently with a heart-chilling shade of red irises. When you've gotten a good look, he's quick to blink again–and this time, only his primary pair of eyes reopen, the whites tinged a very pale pink before the colour soon drains away.

"I hope this was a show of good faith. We should be friends, no?" It's hard to disagree with such an innocently sweet expression staring back at you, so with little thought given to the verbal contract you're signing you agree with a soft "of course".

"Wonderful!" He finally releases you from his grip and claps his hands together, only afterwards ducking his head around out of habit to check if the archangel is listening. But at no sign of interruption above from the fiercely stern professor, he turns back around and produces a card from his sleeve that he presses into your palm. And with a cautiously big step back, Isaac extends his wings fully and takes off into the air, sending whips of a breeze to tousle your hair and clothes as he soars up into the cloud-covered ceiling.

As soon as he's gone, you turn the card around in your hands to take a look while hustling your steps out of the now-empty cathedral. On one side is nothing but a bit of gold engraving on the white cardstock, while the other side has a phone number beneath his name and university status. You can't help but notice how the golden ink moves within the card, lines writhing and intertwining within each other to spell new words out the longer you look at it.

"Isaac the Virtuous, aide to Archangel Mikael, envoy of angelic healing….friend of the equally virtuous–and charming–human."

#archangel prof #isaac of virtue #angel x reader #angel boyfriend #monster boyfriend #archangel prof x reader #isaac x reader #monster campus introductions #monster campus #neutral pov #ellie writes #1k

[theknightmarket]

"Who wouldn't be angry?"

In which Wilford's return has less fanfare than what he hoped for. TW: cursing, slight sexual references Pages: 13 - Words: 5,000

[Requests: OPEN]

Closing up the bar was the best part of the night. After everyone had gone home, either willingly or under attack from your broom, and the only sound left was the quiet tap, tap, tap of a faucet someone forgot to turn off – that was when you felt perfectly at peace. The adrenaline of work was fun, of course, but reaping the rewards of a 20-dollar tip and pair of earphones made the 2 o’clock chime all the more satisfying. 

You unwrapped the apron from your waist and tossed it over your bag. A wayward sex on the beach meant it would need washing before you could wear it again, not that you minded it too much. It was, after all, where that tip came from, and the man who spilt it was almost too apologetic. You’d had worse. 

Dimly, as you wiped down the tables for the last time, you lamented the loss of your winter-holiday themed apron. 

You preferred the Halloween one anyway, so it wasn’t a weight on your conscience that drew you to breaking into your bar late at night. The work kept you busy enough that you didn’t, and couldn’t, despair over small things. The taxes, the patrons, the staff – they were all great, but sometimes you did wish you had time for yourself. A Sunday off, once a month, that would be enough. But, as you said, no time to despair. There was still work to do. 

That night, the work entailed taking the cash out of the register and tip jar, counting it, and stuffing it into the safe, locking all the interior doors and windows, and, finally, flicking the light switch. The neon pink sign blinked once, twice, and died out at its third breath, while you brought out your keys to officially lock the front door. The little hole-in-the-wall that the bar was, it didn’t run the risk of getting broken into too strongly, but there was no reason not to take precautions. You’d heard your neighbors tell you that it was so much a safe town that you needn’t bother locking everything. You told them that you quite liked having money, thank you very much, and there was no way in hell that you were going to pay any more for insurance. 

The night’s air nipped at your face, reminding you that you were still standing outside. Your brain, meanwhile, reminded you that you weren’t on your couch, wrapped in a blanket, and watching random nature documentaries. It might have also said something about paying your rent, but you decided to ignore that part. 

So, your frigid breath fading away in front of you, you waltzed down the four blocks between you and your apartment, watching the few other folk out and about make their own ways home. A group of teens scuttled across the road, technically jay walking but you weren’t going to say anything, while a ruffled office worker took off in a hurry in the other direction. Probably wanting to get into a safe place with the baggy of drugs stuffed into his suit pocket. 

The town you lived in wasn’t a well-off one. It was two steps up from rock bottom, and only because the local deli hadn’t been closed down due to health hazards yet. You liked to think your bar made it better, but there were going to be people who didn’t agree. Those teens, for instance, who always threw crude remarks when you denied them a beer. You didn’t hold it against them. How could you, when you had done the same thing once or twice when you were a kid. It didn’t bother you anymore, so why not wait until they reached 21, or found good enough fake IDs.

You fished your keys out of your bag when you were at the stairs inside your apartment building. The little, pink bear was the only thing that distinguished it from any others, and you ran your fingers over the dimples and nicks as your legs moved for you. Fourth floor, second door on the left. Whistling the few beats of a song you could still remember from the radio, you spun the plastic toy around in the air, caught it with your other hand, and pushed it into your door.

The entry was cold. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but you were always reminded of the difference between the welcoming warmth of your bar and your home’s casual wave of air. Bringing a jacket with you was a moot point since you only needed it when you were actually inside. No, you just had to put up with it until you could get out of your work clothes and surround yourself with the fluffiest blankets you could find. You had this down to a fine art at that point, there was no reason why you couldn’t do it from muscle memory alone. 

Your keys clattered to the wooden floorboards.

No anticipated reason. None at all. You should have been moving into your bedroom by now. You should have been leaving the line of sight of your kitchen and heading to your dresser. You should have been doing anything except staring right at the man who had settled himself against your countertop with a bowl and spoon in his hands. 

You weren’t certain if you’d have preferred a complete stranger, maybe someone with a mallet ready to bash in your head. Something told you it would have been better that the mallet he had poised to bash in your heart with. 

Your mouth dropped open and you forgot about the keys on the ground. Eyes scanning his figure, you begged to find any reason that this wasn’t him, but, if there was, you were too shocked to see it. First, came the slow, creeping sensation of confusion, then a dismal sadness washed through your veins, followed within the second by a tidal wave of anger. 

In a single movement, you’d scooped up your keys, singled the sharpest one out, and lunged for Wilford. 

The fucker was lucky he had those teleporting, magic, screw-the-laws-of-physics powers that let him appear behind you before you cut through his arm. That didn’t stop you from whirling around and trying to get at his shoulder, though, but you missed again. And again. And again. 

“Stop moving!” you yelled, skidding into the fridge. It was a poorly choreographed dance that involved the two of you going around in circles, neither graceful nor calculated. The most math Wilford was doing was making sure he didn’t end up on your stove-top, and you were barely thinking, regardless of how many times the counter drove itself into your stomach. 

His response of a stern, “No!” went ignored while you flung yourself towards him for a sixth time. You were considering just chucking the keychain at him and hoping you struck gold, but luck always seemed to be on his side – if not for his evading of your attacks, then for the fact that his bowl hadn’t spiled whatever was inside it. Although, just as you cursed him for it and a bunch of other irrelevant things, he placed it near the sink and watched you fumble with the keys. Your hands were sweaty against the frigidness of the apartment, the exercise was wearing you out quickly, but you didn’t let up. He’d always liked that about you, but he was getting tired, more of the repetitiveness of the situation than the exertion.

So, what else could he do but twist your arm behind your back, hold your other hand down onto the countertop, and ignore the suggestive position it put you both in to disarm you? You didn’t stop struggling, to which he tutted and wrenched your shoulder back further. Nothing to hurt you, too much, he just needed you to calm down. If there was one thing he’d learned in your past encounters, it was that you didn’t react well to simply being verbally ordered around. 

“Now, why are you so angry?” Wilford asked. 

For a second, you stilled. He couldn’t be serious, but, then again, when was he ever? This was the norm for him. Both the prudent ignorance and the method of disarmament. After jostling for moment more, you let out a breath that gave you more wiggle room against the countertop. 

“Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all my cereal and faked your death for three years.” 

Wilford apparently deemed you pacified enough to let you go, and you fell forward slightly. God, your arms hurt. You turned to face him as you rolled the shoulder that he had pulled behind you. Military man. You hated when he actually used what he was taught.

“I didn’t fake my death,” he scoffed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you ate all my cereal and abandoned me for three years. That better?”

“I didn’t abandon you.”

You finally met his eyes. Six feet between you, far out of arm’s reach, you hated that they didn’t betray any lies. More often than not, his emotions were masked by a haze of insanity, but the genuineness was crystal clear, like the spark of lighting across a night sky. It was the kind of purity that meant he fully believed he hadn’t abandoned you, but that just made it worse. 

You forced yourself to look away.  

“You still ate all my cereal.”

“For that, I am sorry.”

You believed him there, and you hated that you did. But that was the same Wilford who left all those nights ago, wasn’t it? No reason to anything, not leaving, not coming back, not a single thing.

Huffing, you gave up. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and you now had one more chore to do before you could settle down for the night. “What do you want?” you asked as you dumped the remainder of the cereal from Wil’s bowl.

“Can’t a man check in on an old friend out of the kindness of his heart?”

You levelled him with a blank stare. His grin cracked for just a second, but it was enough for you to spot, not that you changed your expression any.

“I- well, I thought we could catch up. What have you been up to for the last… what did you say, three years?”

You took a moment to try and figure him out again. Even if it would get you nowhere in the long run, you weren’t going to entertain him if he was there out of boredom. The little voice in the back of your mind reminded you that you didn’t have to play along with him, it reminded you that you had a job and a home and a life outside of whatever Wilford was swept up in. You didn’t have to jingle around the room like a court jester playing it up for laughs.

But you still sighed, ran a hand down your face, and vaguely gestured to the kitchen counter. “Go on, then.”

Wilford waltzed over to one of the stools as though that was just what he expected you to say, and, ashamed as you were, it likely was; it was some kind of routine you used to have, albeit without the giant gap in between. When you got home from working the bar, he would be there at the stove, cooking whatever it was caught his fancy in the books lately. You’d talk about your day and ask him about his, pouring both of you a drink. You couldn’t drink on the job, but your shift ended the minute you stepped through the apartment door.

Then, of course, after solid months of strange domesticity, Wilford up and vanished in the blink of an eye. Magic.

And, what, he appeared in just the same manner, and you fell into the habit, just like that? God, you really were weak.

“So, how’s the family?” was Wilford’s first question. You didn’t answer until you got the bottles out of the fridge and laid them on the countertop in front of him.

“Fine. Youngest brother graduated; parents adopted another dog.”

You turned away from grabbing the glasses only to see your guest wedging the top off the bottle of gin with his teeth. The cork pressed to the side of his mouth a clear danger, you swiped it from him, tossed it to your other hand and grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer in one swift motion.

“You’ll crack a tooth,” you muttered, knowing damn-well he wouldn’t heed your warning as you watched him shrug and remove the cap of the vermouth as well.

You didn’t bother to be surprised when the martini glass you’d seen on a shelf disappeared and reappeared in Wilford’s hand. That little voice, whispering again, reminded you that the magic trick was old hat to you now. You didn’t have to be shocked at the casual manipulation of time and space.

“I didn’t think Danny-boy was still in schooling. What’s he going to be, eh?”

Ignoring the sudden pressure in your chest, you replied, “A pilot.”

“Oh, a ladies’ man, then!” His laugh was more suited to a world war general than the pink-moustached maniac sipping straight from the vermouth in front of you. “I wish him the best of luck.” To which he raised the bottle, and, with a final wink, chugged the thing until half of it remained.

You almost didn’t want to risk finishing the martini you were making for him. You were well aware of how high Wilford’s alcohol tolerance was, but that didn’t make it any healthier. Still, when you had taken back the vermouth and poured it into the glass, you slid it over to him, warily eyeing the rest of the bottles to see if they’d been opened in the meantime. The sight of them all the same as before didn’t bring you much comfort regardless.

“And how’s the bar doing?”

You nodded slightly, your brow still furrowed and avoiding looking directly at him. “It’s doing well. We got a new bartender, she’s… she’s good.”

“Maybe you’ll finally take some time off, then,” he thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers, “there’s a new roller rink opening up on Alto Street. We could go there on your next day off!”

That pressure tightened into a vice grip. “We?”

“Yes, we. I wouldn’t recommend it if I didn’t think it’s good.”

“But you want to go together.”

“Is that a problem?”

Avoiding looking at him didn’t help, but making eye contact wasn’t any good, either. You only got an expression of confusion. Nothing betrayed an ulterior motive. You squinted but found only that. Surprise, maybe. You tilted your head one way and then the other, as though an angle would let you see something you couldn’t before. It was all the same.

“What are you doing, Wilford?”

Only more surprise. He laid down the martini glass, a mere sliver of alcohol left in the bottom, before placing his head in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“What is this? What- what do you want?”

A tut broke the tension for a second until it rose again tenfold.

“You’ve already asked that one.” 

“Yeah, and we’ve caught up. You can leave now.”

“Well, you haven’t asked me what I’ve been up to.”

“Oh, yeah? What have you been up to, then?”

Wilford opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again with a hum. Go figure, he couldn’t tell you. Whether it was because he was bound by some contract, or couldn’t remember, or just plain hadn’t done a thing, you didn’t know, and you never had.

“Look, it was nice catching up with you, but I have to work in the morning—”

“Hold on, hold on!” Your moving away from the counter was blocked by Wilford rushing to stand and securing his hands on your shoulders. He held you in place, a new emotion appearing on his face. Desperation. The smallest amount, but it was there, and it had you changing your mind about shoving him away.

“How do I make it up to you?”

“I don’t think you can.”

You weren’t about to beat around the bush with this, even if it made you the bad guy – the kicked puppy look certainly made you think you were, but you stayed your course; you couldn’t give in so easily.

“I just… how do I know you aren’t going to disappear again?” 

“I won’t!”

“How do I know, though? You don’t have the best track record.”

When he moved his hands from your shoulders, you thought he was going to leave, walk straight out the door into the night. It took only a second longer for you to realise he was grabbing your own hands. “This time I promise I’m telling the truth.”

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Damn him and damn yourself and damn it all. You were weak, of course, but you were weak for the man in front of you with the stars in his eyes and sugar on his lips. And if that man was asking for a second chance – for a third time – who were you to deny him?

“Fine. Okay. Sure,” you spoke slowly, coming to grips with everything that had happened in the last half an hour.

You felt Wilford’s grip tighten at your hands and then release, and that was all that you expected, but you were talking about the time-travelling maniac in front of you. His arms were wrapped around you before you knew it, warmth and his moustache tapping at your skin. You supposed this was some kind of thanks, which you still appreciated. Gently, you lifted your hands to pat his back, causing him to squeeze slightly more, until he pulled away a few seconds later. 

“Alright,” you mumbled, barely getting the word out in time for a yawn to overtake you, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Goodnight! Sleep well.”

You returned the pleasantry with obvious tiredness in both your tone and your body. Dragging your feet, you made your way to your room while Wilford cleared up, the clinking of glasses and bottles only making you slightly worried about how much you’d have left come morning. It wasn’t enough to stop you from conking out the very instance that you touched your comforter, ready and poised to forget the last half hour’s shenanigans.

You woke up in the morning. Not surprising. It happened a lot. What didn’t happen a lot, though, was the smell of pancakes stirring you from your sleep instead of the blinding sun through your windows. You cracked your eyes open, only to see complete darkness. Immediately, you jumped from your bed and scrambled to stand up straight. Nothing. You couldn’t see anything. A creeping sense of dread curled in your stomach, wrapped around you heart, and pulled. Where was Wilford? Did he do something, was he okay, why did it still smell like pancakes—

You hand made contact with something covering your eyes. Oh. Pulling it off, you were slowly greeted with the light of the day, as you expected, and an unfamiliar piece of fabric in your palm. It was silky when you ran your thumb over it, something you didn’t think you’d ever touched, let alone owned.

You left the sleeping mask on your chaotic mess of sheets. Overwhelmed by the haze of adrenaline and sleep, you stumbled to get ready – which, given that you still had to figure out that smell, consisted of swapping out the uniform that you’d passed out in for a tank top and shorts. You weren’t fully awake when you got to the door, but you had nothing else to do but get to the kitchen and hope it was nothing you’d have to call emergency services about.

All three of your panic-questions were answered when you stopped at the archway between the mini hallway and the kitchen. The scene of Wilford at the stove, his back to you but clearly flipping something in a pan, quickly greeted you. Sizzling filled the air and disguised your footfalls on the wooden floorboards. They were nearly silent anyway, and yet you were caught as you got close to the countertop’s stools.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Wilford sang, turning to wink at you so that you could see the ‘kiss-the-cook’ apron he now sported. Something panged in your chest, like a string cut loose; you’d bought that for him years ago, back when he was cooking dinner for the two of you. The face of the cashier stuck in your mind, somewhere between amused and sickened, but you didn’t care. The only time he hadn’t worn it when cooking was after you’d wrestled it away from him to wash. And then, obviously, after he disappeared, it was stashed in the back of the drawer, piled onto by old cloths and semi-broken utensils. You wondered how he found it again.

“Did you put a sleeping mask on me?” You collapsed onto a seat and rested your arms on the laminate surface. 

“I did, yes.” He went back to peeling the sides of a pancake off the edge and said nothing else on the matter.

“…why?”

Wilford flipped the pancake once, twice, a third time, then pressed it down in a ritual you had seen many times before. The crack of batter shocked the air around it. “Given how tired you were last night – too tired to change out of your clothes, at least – I didn’t want the sun to wake you up too early.” 

“And the curtains weren’t enough?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” he tutted, “I’ve seen how much gets through those flimsy things. It’s a wonder how the stars themselves don’t keep you awake.”

He wasn’t wrong. It happened often that you would wake up in the middle of the night, drowsy and blinking, only to realise that it was ten hours earlier than when you needed to be out of bed by. It happened now, and it happened three years ago. You just never put in the effort to fix it.

So, you just sighed, giving up the debate as fast as you’d started it, and dragged your hands down your face. According to the clock on the wall opposite you, there was still six more hours until the bar opened – you didn’t like encouraging day-drinking and four o’clock was the lowest you would go – and, frankly, you didn’t know how to spend them. A routine of stupid conspiracy theories and paperwork was offset with Wilford’s presence, leaving you with the shambles of a normal morning.

You blinked back to life when he set out two plates of pancakes on the countertop, one of them in front of you and the other just to your right at the next stool over. As he rounded the jutted-out edge, he brushed the small of your back with his hand, still warm from being near the stove. You couldn’t help but tense up, entirely focused on that point of contact like you’d been called to attention by a drill sergeant. 

Wilford dropped into the seat and handed you a pair of cutlery. You didn’t notice the toppings spread along the edge until you blinked some more times to rid the blur of your vision. Half of them had been pushed to the very back of the cupboard while the other half you weren’t certain you had ever bought in the first place.

Something stopped you from reaching for any of them. Something stopped you from doing anything. 

It was a shared feeling between the pit of your stomach and your throat. Like you wanted to scream and cry and laugh at the same time. Manic, you guessed was the best word for it, but even that felt wrong. Your heart thundered in your chest and raged against your ribcage, as though it were the only thing stopping it from telling you just what was wrong with you. Maybe this was just what happened what Wilford was around you, or maybe this was just what happened when he left. You didn’t think you were sure of anything anymore. 

“Is this it?”

“What do you mean?”

The words struggled against the rush of blood in your veins. You weren’t angry. You understood that you should have been, but you weren’t, and you weren’t bitter, and you weren’t resentful. It was another feeling on the tip of your tongue. But you held onto that feeling because it was undeniably there. You would have bashed your head against the counter if you weren’t paralyzed with…

You were scared. That was it. You were downright terrified.

“Are you,” you swallowed thickly, “are you here now?”

“Honey, whatever are you talking about?” Wilford asked, facing you with that sugar-coated grin you’d always gotten so hung up over. “I’ve been here since last night.” 

Just those words made you break into an internal panic. The only way that it shone through was in the frantic movements of your pupils, darting back and forth, searching desperately for the truth in his own. Meeker than he had ever heard you before, you asked, “Are you staying?”

And, just like that, he realized what you were asking, what you were going through. The eyes were the windows to the soul, after all, and, as he secured his hands on your shoulders, he saw your soul shattered into pieces. He had left, and the memory of stepping out of that front door was seared into his mind. He couldn’t forget, not even under the cover of discos and murder-mysteries, the way that the click of the lock echoed down the hallway and the stairwell, chasing after him when he was out of the building and seeping into the cracks of the pavement. It was karmic justice that the thought of you prevented him from entering any bar from that day onward. He didn’t want to risk it, and, well, he’d already forgotten so much. The few sane memories that remained were ones he didn’t want to taint with similar experiences and get them muddled up in his mind. 

Now that he was back, Wilford couldn’t imagine leaving again, not when you were staring at him, panicked and desperate for a response.

Slowly, gently, he brought you closer until your chest was pressed against his. The embrace was tight but comfortable. Supportive. A promise he couldn’t yet put into words. He shushed you as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, your own arms tugging him even closer than that, as if you expected him to disappear at any moment – not that it was unjustified. His grip on your shoulder blades tensed alongside yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. On your part, you were too preoccupied with holding back the floods of tears that threatened to spill over at any second. A few had already escaped and dampened his dress shirt. On Wilford’s, he understood already.

The pair of you sat there for five minutes more. It felt like longer, but the clock was barely passing half ten. The most concrete thought that dragged through your head was that the hug was nice. You hadn’t been held like that since the last time Wilford was there. Sure, you’d been close to other people, but the complete relaxation of your body was a sensation you could see yourself chasing like an addict’s high.

It was practically painful to pull away, though you kept your hands secured around his waist.

“Shit,” you laughed quietly, voice clogged with tears, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

“Pish posh! I think we both needed that, and I’m more than welcome for another in the future. For now,” he rose from his seat and gathered your plates, “I’m going to make some more pancakes.”

As Wilford passed behind you, he leaned around and pecked your cheek with his lips. It must have been an unconscious decision because his eyebrows raised, and he sounded apologetic as he spoke.

“Was that too much?”

Truth be told, you weren’t expecting it, but that didn’t make it any less appreciated. You had gone from trying to stab his with your keys to crying in his embrace in less than a day, you imagined you could handle a little kiss. And, as it happened, a larger one, too.

Wilford watched as you got up from your own stool and took a step closer to him. He was almost worried you would shove him out of the door, but you did something different. Very different.

In one swift motion, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward. For a second, he was focused on keeping the plates steady in his hands, before he felt the oh-so-familiar warmth of your lips on his, and, had he forgotten, this was a pleasant reminder. He sighed into your mouth as his shoulders fell from their tensed position and he tilted his head for a better angle. A lopsided grin spread over his lips, only somewhat messing up the kiss, but you continued. 

You lifted a hand up to cup his jawline, smoothing a thumb over the texture of his skin; the other you used to card through his tousled hair. Your reward? A light groan so quiet that you nearly missed it. Luckily, you didn’t, even as he tried to twist it into a hum. He’d missed this, and so had you. And besides, who were you to ignore the order on his apron?

Eventually, you had to separate. Time-travelers and bartenders both had to breath, after all.

“Oh, honey,” Wilford muttered, slowly but not subtly moving closer again.

You accepted another kiss, and then another when you parted, and then another after that. Each of them was slow and sweet, only half like him in that regard. 

“Still making those pancakes, are you?” you managed to get out in the interim.

His chuckle was just as carefree as his other sounds, but he did step back to put the plates by the sink. You moved to start cleaning them as he prepared the next pancakes. The splash of water against the sizzle of batter warmed your chest, and the glimpse of Wilford standing next to you had you grinning ear to ear.

This was good. Making breakfast in a tiny apartment, not yet dressed for the day but content to stay like this for the rest of it – you were happy with this life.

You were certain of it.

[It's weird that this blog has been open for over a year and yet this is the first Wilford one-shot I've done. Side note: this was inspired by @valentivy-makes so you should go and check out their amazing art of Wilford, because, um, you should. Thanks for reading <3]

#theknightmarket #fanfiction #writing #markiplier egos #markiplier #markiplier egos x reader #one shots #x reader #wilfordmotherlovingwarfstache #markiplier wilford #wkm wilford #wilford warfstache #Wilford x reader #bartender reader #angst/comfort #somewhat similar to the Dark one I did

[sailtomarina]

Seven days a week

What Hermione craved more than anything else in the world at the moment was the hot silkiness of espresso, chocolate, and milk coating her tongue and sliding down her throat. She knew just the place.

She’d discovered the cafe a little under a month ago before her work trip to the Americas—a nondescript exterior, humble interior, extremely limited seating, and the smoothest roasts she had ever experienced. Their coffee redefined her very notion of the word, rewriting the atrocious imitations at Hogwarts, Three Broomsticks, and even the Leaky Cauldron, who all seemed to put more priority into butterbeer and other popular wizard beverages. She considered her discovery love at first sip, and her later time spent in the U.S. cemented her passion for the caffeinated drink which started her morning seven days a week. Coming back to Britain, she paid for addiction dearly in the form of incessant cravings that the mediocre offerings of other establishments failed to fulfill.

So, she returned to M. Coffee. 

It was while she waited in line to make her order that she noticed him. The shock of white blonde hair, trimmed perfectly and falling just right over his forehead, shone like a beacon in the tiny building. Draco Malfoy sat in elegant repose, one hand resting on his lap, occasionally bringing his mug up to his lips, and the other turning the pages of The Daily Prophet. If she angled herself just so, she could pull off pretending to miss him sitting at the far edge of the counter the way he was.

“Miss? Do you know what you would like?” The young woman standing behind the till blinked innocently at her, waiting for Hermione’s order. She wore a cheery red apron and a pin in the shape of a cup with ‘Daisy’ printed on it.

“I’ll take a large dark chocolate mocha, no whip, with a bit of cinnamon.”

“Certainly. Can I interest you in any of our boosters?”

Hermione followed the girl’s nod towards a board she hadn’t noticed before, one listing out a variety of different drink enhancements. The options included focus, energy, and stamina. A note at the bottom promised four hours of efficacy, which seemed like quite a long duration to Hermione. She would’ve expected maybe an hour at most. There were dedicated potions that didn’t last even half as long as one of these drinks.

“I’m good, thanks.” Glancing behind her and seeing no one, she let her curiosity get the best of her. “Have you tried these boosters?”

Daisy grinned knowingly as she prepared her drink. “I have. They’re Ministery-approved, if that’s what concerns you.”

“They are?” Hermione couldn’t help the disbelief that bled into her voice.

“Yup,” Daisy confirmed, “Boss wouldn’t have it any other way. Does everything by the books and triple checks it all himself.”

It wasn’t until the girl handed Hermione a bright red mug with cinnamon dusted across the foam that she realized she had forgotten to specify takeout. There was nothing for it, she supposed, then to sit as far away from Malfoy as possible and hope he didn’t notice her.

She had nearly drained the delicious concoction when a voice, low and confident, slid into her reverie.

“How’s the drink?”

Of course Malfoy would notice her. She should have shaved off her head, or dyed it Weasley red. She took one last swallow of her mocha before turning to face him. Sliding her eyes up his disgustingly fit form encased in a suit that would do the front cover of Vogue justice, she fixed on his eyes, just as strikingly grey as she remembered. What surprised her, however, was the way they crinkled at the edges with his smile. It wasn’t the cruel smirk of their childhood, or even the suggestive leer he used more as they got older. His expression appeared genuinely curious, and the openness of it disarmed her as readily as a well-placed expelliarmus.

“I must be dreaming.”

His brow crinkled in confusion, but he followed with a laugh and another question. “Why do you say that?”

“Draco Malfoy is asking Hermione Granger about her drink and looks like he actually wants to hear the answer.”

“Does Hermione Granger now speak exclusively in the third person?”

“She may be using it as some kind of twisted defense mechanism.”

They stared at one another for a silent beat before they both burst into laughter. She wasn’t sure what was going on and why he was talking to her, but she was in too good of a mood to let Malfoy ruin it. Oddly enough, she felt in a better mood now than earlier.

“The drink is lovely and I could drink it every day,” she conceded.

He looked inordinately pleased by her answer, and she couldn’t help but want to know more.

“Why do you ask?”

He cocked his head with a strange expression now on his face, and Hermione felt a bit of her old reservations spring up. Had she missed something obvious? He gestured toward her cup with an elegant wave of his wrist. The scarlet mug was just as empty as before, the ‘M’ on the side clearly displayed.

M, as in M. Coffee.

She returned her gaze sharply towards him, mouth agape.

“I’m surprised you didn’t realize from the start, Granger. This is my coffee shop.”

“But it’s so small,” she said accusingly, as if the very word offended her.

There was that smirk. Only this time, it wasn’t at her but somehow included her. “I happen to like small. I don’t plan on ever expanding, no matter how successful this place becomes. I just want to keep making limited batch roasts to my exact specifications and starting every morning with a cup and a newspaper.”

Hermione studied him as he spoke, noticing for the first time the relaxed slant of his shoulders that once seemed permanently tense. She hadn’t seen him much in the past handful of years after school. She knew they had each pursued masteries, and that they were both single—Witch Weekly couldn’t get enough coverage of the eligible bachelor.

She wanted to know more.

Gathering her courage felt as natural as breathing, no matter how much her nerves spiked and her brain screamed at her that this might not be the greatest idea she’d ever had. M. Coffee served the best coffee in Britain and Draco Malfoy was a puzzle she wanted to solve.

“Well, consider me a regular customer. I don’t think I can start my days without one of your drinks.” Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall and back to him. He maintained eye contact the entire time, lips curled into yet another strange smile she had never seen on him before. “I’ll be here every morning at 8 A.M.”

“I’m honored by your patronage.”

She nodded and stood to leave. When she made to bus her own mug, he stepped forward to meet her, large hands barely brushing hers in the exchange. The brief touch was cool, and she wondered how his hand would feel cupped against her flushed face.

“Thank you.” She tried to keep her voice firm, but a tiny tremble might have slipped through with the way he looked at her.

“Thank you, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“8 A.M.”

“Indeed.”

She spun around and fled as her courage flagged and she nearly continued the ridiculous verbal exchange. She didn’t see the way he watched her leave, the smile he maintained long after she was no longer in sight, nor the contemplative look he held before nodding decisively. He planned to see her everyday, just as she had stated, seven days a week.

Beyond that? Well, Hermione wasn’t the only one who liked a challenge.

WC 1298 Twitter prompt from @DramionePrompts

#dramione #dramione prompt #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy

[octuscle]

Hey dude, do you possibly have any suitcases for Johannesburg? I’m there for work cause my employer owns a stake in a gold mine but I can’t find my luggage and I’m meeting with the mine supervisor soon. If you have one it would be appreciated.

In fact, I would have a suitcase. I can make it available to you with pleasure. At first sight it looks very suitable. Suits, shirts… Just what you need. Okay, already at first sight the suits are a bit too fashionable for you… You prefer rather classic dark blue. But what should you do? You need something to wear. But as you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror in the hotel room, you wonder if you shouldn't go naked. The suit is three sizes too big for you. And still too tight at the hips. Who should wear something like that? You have no time to think or change anything. You grab your laptop bag and head out.

In the elevator you have to loosen your tie knot a bit. It was probably tied too tightly. You look really silly. But at least you seem to have gotten a little color in the few hours you've been here. But maybe it's the tinted mirror in the elevator.

On your way through the hotel lobby to the exit, you feel the pants adjusting to your body. Or vice versa. Very strange… In any case, the pants are no longer tight on your stomach. And the legs are no longer too long. As you step out of the cool lobby onto the street, the warmth hits you like a blow. You wipe your forehead with your hand. And over your head. There is no hair! Your head is bald. But you seem to have grown a beard. The doorman calls a cab. You get in and tell the driver your destination. You are a bit frightened by your voice. A huge bass fills the interior of the cab. The driver turns to you and says that he would normally only drive fucking white people to this address. It would be nice to be able to drive a tie-wearing bruh.

You have no idea what the brother is talking about. You look again at the agenda of the appointment on your cell phone. And search LinkedIn for the supervisor's profile. A white guy with a Dutch-sounding name. Sure, like all the managers here. The driver keeps pulling you out of your thoughts and asking you questions about soccer and rugby. At first you are annoyed, because you actually wanted to prepare for the meeting again. But after a few minutes you are in a passionate discussion. Rugby is more your sport than soccer. The driver says that he is not surprised. You look like a professional rugby player yourself. You laugh boisterously. And you flex your biceps. But not too hard, so as not to burst your sleeves. And as a farewell, you give a generous tip.

The technology at your Johannesburg branch works perfectly. You get into the building with your door card without any problems. The iris scan in the elevator recognizes you immediately and automatically takes you to the right floor. There, a pretty hot fellow is waiting for you and asks you to follow him into the meeting room. Cute little white ass… You wonder if it would hold out to be fucked by you. In the conference room he asks you if he could bring you a coffee. Yes please, you answer. Black. Like you. He grins. And licks his lips. You slide him your business card. He should get in touch.

There's nothing better than appointments where your conversation partner feels superior until he sees you. You are a colossus. With excellent taste and polished manners. And a razor-sharp mind. It only takes you a few minutes to tear the supervisor's report apart. You're already looking forward to the audit. The main thing is that you get that cute ass as an assistant.

Perfectly fitting pic found at @seasoned-men-of-color

#male tf #muscle tf #male transformation #race change #muscle transformation

[kyuriin-chan]

Adam Warlock x OC

Part 3

Word Count: 2.046

Warnings: Adam being cute, fluff, angst, jealous Adam, slightly possessive Adam

POV Adam

The next day I woke up overjoyed and a sincere smile crept onto my lips immediately, when I thought about the kiss with Seraphina. I found that her lips matched mine perfectly and ran a finger over my lips, which began to tingle slightly at the thought.

I would never forget that feeling again.

Quickly I made my way to her spaceship so I could pick her up. I almost sprinted in it's direction while a few residents watched me with interest.

"Morning Adam! What got you into such a good mood today?", Peter asked me, who was leaning against one of the many buildings and was now coming towards me. I stopped almost abruptly and looked at Peter who was now standing next to me and looked at me questioningly.

"What do you mean? I'm just like every other day", I said thoughtfully and tried to calculate how Peter came up with this idea. Like every morning, I made my way to Seraphina, which was no longer news.

"Well yes, but you got that kinda pep in your way of walking y'know? Anything I should know about?", he explained his observation, which I still didn't quite understood, and now walked alongside me as I continued to head for Seraphina's ship. "Oh yes. Please refrain yourself from touching Seraphina all the time. She is now mine", I said to Peter, wanting to do Seraphina a favor.

If I told him about it now, then she no longer needed to deal with this task.

Undeterred, I walked on and didn't even notice that Peter had stopped dead in his tracks until I heard him loudly behind me, "wait ... WHAT?" I turned to him and saw his almost stunned expression.

"I said, please refrain...", I was interrupted again while repeating my sentence as before by Seraphina and I frowned.

Why exactly was I always interrupted when I wanted to repeat my sentence when they asked for it?

"I did hear you Adam. I mean how the hell did that happen?", Peter said immediately and sprinted to my side with a now interested expression and a big grin on his face. "I told her how I felt and she said that she also liked me", I explained slightly confused, not knowing exactly what Peter wanted from me now.

"I knew it!", Peter whispered to himself but I heard him anyway and yet again he confused me with his words. "What did you know?" I asked and hoped that I would get a sufficiently explanatory answer so that I could put the puzzle pieces together.

"Oh nothing... I have to go now, gotta do some work", Peter quickly waved me off and marched on in a different direction.

So, still confused, I stood in place until I just dropped this whole conversation as I wasn't going to figure it out anyway.

x

Seraphina's spaceship slowly entered my field of vision and a wave of nervousness washed over me at once. However, I couldn't describe exactly why I was suddenly so nervous and the butterflies in my stomach didn't really help with the solution.

I reached her ramp and peered curiously inside the ship. Usually she was either already outside or near the ramp which is why I hadn't actually seen her ship from the inside until now. Here and there I was able to catch a quick glimpse, but that I got a good look at her ship from the inside could not be said to be true.

So I stood uncertainly in front of the ramp and wondered if I should just wait here for her or maybe call for her? My curiosity finally took the lead and with light steps I walked slowly over the ramp into the interior of the ship.

It was quite a large ship, similar to Peter's, but rather lightly decorated with lots of whites and blues. Astonished, I looked around and entered the control area, which had a particularly large number of holographic panels.

Almost admiringly, I approached the large viewing window through which I could see space and lingered there for a moment. While my mother's spaceship was in our shades of gold, I found this ship stunningly beautiful as well and thought it suited Seraphina very well.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by an unknown voice and now turned to the corridor from which it came. I frowned and wondered who exactly besides Seraphina could be on the ship, after all it was hers and she had come to Knowhere alone.

Had she perhaps been visited by one of the Guardians?

After all, she was responsible for repairing some electrical equipment and often exchanged ideas with Rocket about it.

So while I continued to follow the sound of the voice, I still tried to absorb every detail of the ship and found that I had never seen a ship like hers. Most spaceships didn't have many windows, and yet hers had particularly many, despite being kept so bright. I really hoped that she would invite me into her ship and show me the many rooms.

Since she also returned here every day, didn't that mean that she also had her room here? A pleasant tingling went through my body at the thought of finding her room and spending time with her there.

Just the two of us.

Eventually I came to a large room that seemed to have some sort of hologram displayed in the middle.

In front of the hologram was an unknown man with his back to me. I eyed him disapprovingly from my vantage point, wondering who exactly this man was. His blond hair closely resembled my hairstyle with some more curls and he seemed to have my height as far as I could tell. His muscles could be seen through his spacesuit and I wondered if I looked just like him.

Until now, that had never bothered me but while I continued to watch the man an uneasy feeling spread through me.

Now why was this man on Seraphina's ship? After all, she had never spoken of another person.

Finally, Seraphina also stepped into my field of vision with her back to me and looked at the hologram as well. However, since I couldn't figure out what exactly I was looking at, I could only watch silently and didn't know exactly whether I should make myself known or not.

"Okay hear me out. I think I got it now," the strange man suddenly spoke up and Seraphina turned to him with one of her beautiful smiles. She had crossed her arms and seemed to have raised an eyebrow playfully. She had shifted her weight to her right leg and continued to look at the man expectantly, "you think so?"

The man snapped his fingers once and then pointed at Seraphina, "I think the mistake is in line 4." Waiting, he kept looking at Seraphina and suddenly she started laughing and shaking her head.

"Wrong again! How can you not see this!", she continued to laugh while the blond man looked at the blue hologram again and sighed, "how CAN YOU see this? It's... like impossible, I just don't get it."

"It's not, you're just looking at it the wrong way", she continued, rolling her eyes. When she turned away she finally noticed me at the entrance of the room and looked at me in astonishment.

"Adam? What are you doing here?", she asked me immediately and grabbed a small holopad from one of the tables. "Hi...umm I wanted to go get you", I ground out stiffly, feeling a little caught. I stood uncomfortably in front of the two and could now see the man's face clearly.

His blue eyes were similar to Seraphina's but if you looked close enough you could see that hers were lighter and the rim of her iris was darker.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Adam! I totally forgot to tell you that I'm working on my ship today, so you actually didn't have to come all this way to get me", she said immediately and put the holopad away to shift her attention to me yet again. The man excused himself and suddenly it was just the two of us in the large room.

"Is it because of him that you don't want me here?", I asked uncertainly and suddenly felt out of place. With my golden appearance I stood out strongly in the white ship and I began to fidged with my hands. "God no! I'm actually very happy that you are here", she assured me and yet I wasn't completely convinced of her answer.

"Then why wouldn't you tell me about him?", I asked again and just couldn't shake this queasy feeling away I felt as well, when Peter touched Seraphina. I didn't like the way she smiled at him so softly and let him onto her ship! This guy suddenly showed up and was allowed into her ship while I only got inside by accident?

"I already told you Adam, I forgot. I'm really sorry", she said again and suddenly a feeling came over me that I had never felt so strongly. I had an enormous urge to show her that she was mine and she should realize that too. Not thinking about it, I took a few steps in her direction and lifted her chin with my right hand.

Without warning, I pressed my lips firmly to hers, only hearing a surprised squeak from her, since I had my eyes closed. Like the day before, I immediately melted into the kiss and my left hand automatically found her hip. I found that my hand felt right there and pressed her further towards me so that her body was now flush against mine.

Panting, we broke apart again and slowly I could think more clearly.

"I-I'm sorry... it's just I got this feeling and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I-I needed to show you that you are mine", I tried to explain and looked down uncertainly.

"You are mine right?", I asked again and looked up into her blue eyes. Her astonished expression was quickly replaced by one of her smiles and she had to chuckle a little. "You were jealous Adam and yes I am yours", she said softly, stroking my strand of hair back, because it had strayed forward in the heat of the moment.

The queasy feeling immediately disappeared and was again replaced by lots of butterflies as she assured me that she was indeed mine. "Who is this guy anyway?" I picked up the strange man again and looked at her expectantly.

"This 'guy' is my brother and his name is Micah", she laughed at my question and now I finally realized why the two looked so alike.

"Oh..."

"I'm back and brought Rocket with me. Said he got some ideas for improvements or something like this," Micah's voice roared, accompanied by Rocket.

"First of all I'm here because I got to the bottom of why this device isn't working and not because of 'something like this'," Rocket began to explain, holding up a small technical device, "secondly there is an error in line 3 and the code of line 5 is missing a rune." Micah looked at the hologram in disbelief and seemed to want to verify Rocket's statement.

"Just... how?"

Rocket just sighed and shook his head, "you sure he is your brother Phina?" She seemed to consider his statement and frowned, "well I do hope so. Been doomed to teach him in 3 languages since he IS my brother."

I carefully followed the conversation between the two and tilted my head slightly to the side, "why would you ask about the validity of his heritage?"

Surely Rocket must have noticed how similar the two looked, right?

"I'm still here y'know! Could you guys please stop talking about me like I'm not here?", came Micah's voice, who had crossed his arms in front of his chest and was slightly glaring at us all.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Feel free to comment your thoughts or prompts ✨

#fanfiction #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock fluff #adam warlock x oc #adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter fic #will poulter #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fluff and angst

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: they go shopping! and then they fuck in a dressing room cause they're both horny for each other.

content warnings: sex, mommy kink, fingering, begging

word count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist

Y/n hadn’t been in the city yet, and stared in wonder at all the different stores as they passed by. She realized that at some point, they had made their way into the high end part of the city. Y/n twisted in her seat to look over at Wanda as they drove deeper into the city. 

“What store exactly are we shopping at?” She asked, watching Wanda’s lips turn up into a small smile. 

“A nice one.” Came the quick reply. Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at Wanda’s disapproving look. “That’s not an answer.”

“Careful darling, that attitude might earn you a punishment. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” 

Y/n swallowed and looked down at her lap. She quickly uncrossed her arms, glancing sheepishly over at Wanda. 

“I’m sorry. It slipped out.” Y/n said quietly. Wanda smirked slightly, patting the girl’s knee. “I know sweetheart, we’ll have to work on the sass.” Y/n made an offended noise, then wincing when Wanda’s hand tightened on her leg. 

“We’re almost there, you’ll be a good girl for me right?” Wanda’s eyes flashed in y/n’s direction. She was quick to nod, her excitement growing at the idea of a shopping trip. Plus, Wanda had a great sense of fashion so y/n knew she was in excellent hands. 

Wanda pulled up to a large building, parking neatly right next to the large glass doors. Y/n peered curiously through the glass, her eyes widening at the expensive looking dresses on display. 

“Are you ready?” Wanda asked, her eyes searching y/n’s face. 

“I’m not sure any of these will look right on me, I’m…” Y/n paused, feeling embarrassed. Wanda nodded encouragingly, and y/n took a breath before continuing. “I’m not used to having expensive things.”

It was true, even though Tony was generous with his money y/n didn’t make many big purchases. She thought about her clothes, most of them thrifted or gifts from Natasha. She had been taught from a young age to only buy the basics, her room back at the compound looked like a minimalist's wet dream. 

“I’m looking forward to spoiling you darling, you’ll get used to it by the end of the summer.” Wanda’s voice shook her out of her thoughts. Y/n looked over at her, seeing a soft look in those green eyes. She smiled, and Wanda squeezed her knee one last time before exiting the car. Y/n followed eagerly, her excitement over powering the nerves she felt. 

With Wanda’s comforting hand on her lower back, y/n stepped inside the store. She could almost see her reflection on the marble floor, and gazed around at the massive interior with wide eyes. 

“This place has more clothes than anyone could ever need.” She whispered, feeling the need to be quiet. The store seemed almost like a sacred space, and y/n felt completely out of place. Wanda hummed in response next to her, nodding at one of the store employees when they noticed the new guests. 

“That simply means more options darling, where do you want to start?” Wanda asked, her voice low in y/n’s ear. 

“What will you be wearing?” Y/n asked, her voice slightly panicked. 

Wanda started to rub her fingers in a soothing circle on the small of her back. “I’ll be wearing a dark green suit, with a black shirt and gold jewelry.” Y/n nodded, she could work with that. With that in mind, she made her way over to the longer dresses. Wanda followed behind her, and y/n was grateful for the woman’s comforting presence. 

They spent what felt like hours searching the racks, until y/n saw a flash of forest green out of the corner of her eye. She quickly took the dress off the rack and gasped. Wanda hummed in approval beside her, her fingers running over the material. 

“This shade of green will match my suit perfectly.” She murmured, her fingers running over the gold stitching. Y/n smiled wider, and held the dress up against her body. It really was the perfect dress, and she would match Wanda’s outfit well.

“Would you like to try it on?” Y/n jumped at the sound of a man’s voice. She turned to her right and smiled slightly at the employee who had spoken. 

“Yes, she would.” Wanda responded for her, and y/n felt a pang of arousal at the sheer dominance in her voice. She quietly followed the man, allowing Wanda to take the dress from her arms. They made their way up an impressive set of stairs, turning into a hallway full of doors. 

The employee opened one of the doors before turning to them. “If you need any assistance, there’s a button near the door. One of my coworkers will arrive in a few short minutes should you press it.” With that, he nodded respectfully and walked back down the hallway. 

Y/n walked into the rather large dressing room, taking note of the large mirror on the opposite wall and the comfortable looking couch next to it. She heard the door close behind her and turned to see Wanda leaning casually against the wall. 

“Try it on.” Wanda said, and y/n’s eyes darted from her face to the dress she was holding out to her. She took a step forward and gingerly took the dress from Wanda’s hands. 

“Are you really going to stand there and watch me undress?” 

Wanda chuckled, “Yes darling, unless you’d be more comfortable if I waited outside.” She raised an eyebrow at y/n‘s silence. Y/n cleared her throat as she shook away the nerves that had appeared. 

“I don’t know if it’s actually going to look good on me.” She confessed, staring at the soft material in her hands. She saw Wanda take a step towards her and glanced up when the woman’s hand cupped her chin. 

“It’s going to look beautiful darling, because you’ll be the one wearing it.” 

Y/n’s heart stuttered, and she nodded quickly at Wanda’s words. She hoped that Wanda hadn’t seen how her statement affected her, but judging by the smirk that the woman was wearing, y/n knew that Wanda had once again read her like a book. 

She quickly undressed, meeting Wanda’s lustful gaze in the mirror once she was down to her underwear. Y/n could visibly see her own blush spreading down her neck from where it burned on her face, and quickly slipped the dress on. As she was adjusting the straps, she heard Wanda’s heels slowly clicking as she walked towards her. 

“Let me help you with that.” Wanda murmured in her ear, their eyes locked in the mirror. Y/n took a shaky breath as she felt Wanda’s hand run down her bare skin from the base of her neck down to her lower back, where her fingers found the zipper. She slowly moved the zipper higher, her eyes watching y/n‘s face. Y/n could feel the short huffs of breath from the woman behind her on her neck, and shivered as goosebumps traveled down her spine. 

Wanda fully zipped up the dress, then reached down to circle her hands around y/n’s hips. Her eyes roamed up and down y/n’s body, before focusing on the long slits on the sides of her legs. 

“You look utterly insatiable darling.” Wanda whispered, one hand reaching down to where the slit ended near the top of y/n’s thigh. She rubbed circles on the smooth skin she found there while y/n’s chest heaved as she stared at Wanda through the mirror. 

“I feel really good in this dress.” Y/n admitted, smiling at Wanda’s reflection as the woman rested her chin on her shoulder. Wanda maintained eye contact, her gaze unwavering as both her hands slid up under the dress to y/n’s lower stomach. 

Y/n’s eyes widened as Wanda’s hands inched lower, painfully close to the wetness cooling in her underwear. “Wait.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed when y/n’s hands quickly moved from her sides to grasp at her wrists, stopping her hands from moving lower. “You don’t want this?” She asked, feeling the girl’s grip loosen slightly as she realized her mistake. 

“No, I do. It’s just…” Y/n’s eyes darted to the door behind them, lingering on the locked door. “Somebody might hear.”

Wanda chuckled, pressing a kiss against y/n’s neck. “I’ve been to this store many times darling, all the employees are elsewhere. Nobody will hear, I promise.” She smirked as a thought came to her mind. “You can be quiet for me, can’t you?”

Y/n nodded quickly, releasing her grip on Wanda’s wrists and leaving them at her sides. Wanda hummed in approval as one of her hands cupped the heat radiating from the girl’s underwear.

“You’re so wet darling, how long have you been like this?” Wanda asked teasingly, and y/n dropped her gaze in embarrassment. “Since the meeting this morning, you’re really good at turning me on.” She whispered, glancing up to see a smug look on Wanda’s face. The woman adopted a look of fake pity as she started to rub circles over y/n’s clit. 

“You should have told me earlier darling.” Wanda said, and y/n frowned. 

“I did tell you, in your office. But you were too busy.” Y/n said definitely, immediately regretting her words at the pinch of Wanda’s fingers against her hip. “Sorry.”

Wanda pressed her lips against y/n’s ear as she whispered, “Don’t get bratty now sweetheart, otherwise you’ll have to wait until we get home.” Y/n let out a low whine at the threat, her arousal had been present since this morning and she couldn’t fathom waiting any longer. Not when Wanda was right there and willing to give her what she wanted. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. Please.” Y/n whimpered, feeling Wanda’s fingers reach under her waistband and slide into her. She pursed her lips to suppress the moans that threatened to escape. Wanda slid her hand up her waist and trailed its way up her body until it circled her neck. 

“Remember, be quiet for me darling.” Wanda’s voice was sickly sweet, even as her fingers thrusted harder. Y/n was biting her lip in an effort to suppress any moans from escaping, and Wanda’s eyes zeroed in on it. “Fuck, you’re so pretty sweetheart.” She said in a breathless voice, her warm breath hitting y/n’s neck. Her fingers curled and hit the spot that sent white hot pleasure through y/n. 

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Please let me come.” Y/n pleaded between shaky breaths. Wanda smirked, “Wait a bit longer darling, I know you can.” She didn’t slow her pace, curling her fingers expertly and sending y/n hurtling towards a climax.

“Please mommy.” Y/n was too far gone to realize what had just come out of her mouth, but Wanda’s eyes darkened with lust as she squeezed her throat. 

“Say it again.” She husked, and y/n’s eyes widened as her brain caught up to her. She searched Wanda’s face for any signs of disappointment, but found only lust and pride. Y/n stared directly at Wanda’s barely green eyes through the mirror and moaned softly. “Mommy, please. I want to come for you.” Wanda let out a groan as she dipped her head and sucked a hickey on y/n’s lower neck. 

“Come for mommy darling.” Wanda’s thumb pressed into her clit, and y/n bit her lip fiercely as her orgasm hit her. She grasped weakly at Wanda’s arm as she trembled, the woman’s fingers fucking her through her orgasm. Pure relief rushed through her as the painful arousal that had been pooling in her gut finally faded. She felt Wanda’s fingers slow as she worked her way through the aftershocks and sighed.

“Thank you.” She managed, smiling when Wanda kissed her neck. She closed her eyes as she breathed hard, still recovering from the powerful orgasm. She felt fingers rest on her lips, and opened her eyes to see Wanda raising an expectant eyebrow. “Open.”

Y/n parted her lips and sucked Wanda’s fingers into her mouth, moaning at the taste. Wanda watched her through the mirror, before abruptly pulling her fingers from y/n’s mouth and tilting her chin towards her. Y/n smiled into the rough kiss, reaching a hand up to tangle in red hair. She broke the kiss and murmured against Wanda’s lips, “Can I take care of you now?”

Wanda nodded, moving to sit on the couch and pulling y/n on top of her to sit in her lap. Y/n happily resumed kissing Wanda, letting one hand drift down to the woman’s chest while the other gripped the back of her neck. She gasped at the pebbled nipple straining through Wanda’s shirt, and rolled her fingers around it. She was pleased at the soft sounds she was pulling from the redhead, and smiled into the kiss. 

“Fingers, now darling.” Wanda demanded before harshly sucking on y/n’s lower lip. Y/n held back a moan, quickly undoing the button on Wanda’s pants before sliding her hand further down and gasping at the wet heat that greeted her. She easily slipped two fingers inside of Wanda, proud of the low noise that was pulled from the redhead’s throat. 

Y/n moved her fingers faster, mindful of how much time they had spent in the dressing room. She skillfully twisted her wrist to press her thumb against Wanda’s clit, applying pressure as the woman’s hands tightened over her hips. She pulled away from the kiss once Wanda wasn’t able to kiss back. 

“How close are you?” Y/n asked, eyeing Wanda’s parted lips as the woman panted slightly. “Close darling, just keep doing that.” She said breathlessly, leaning forward to connect her lips to y/n’s neck and sucking harshly. 

Y/n bit back a moan and continued applying the same pressure to Wanda’s clit as she curled her fingers and smiled at the soft moan Wanda released. She felt the redhead’s walls tighten and her hands tense around her waist. Y/n leaned down to whisper into Wanda’s ear. 

“Come for me mommy.” 

Wanda bit down slightly on y/n’s shoulder as those words sent her over the edge. Y/n let a proud smile sit on her lips when Wanda finally pulled away and met her gaze. 

“Good girl.” She said, sighing at the sensation of y/n pulling her fingers out slowly. Wanda watched as the girl sucked on her fingers, her eyes closing at the taste. When y/n’s eyes opened once more, she circled her arms around Wanda’s shoulders and smiled. 

“So will this dress be alright for the event this weekend?” Y/n asked playfully, and Wanda chuckled as she nudged her off her lap and stood up, reaching for the zipper. “Yes darling, this dress will work wonderfully.” 

Y/n stood on still shaky legs as Wanda slipped her out of the dress and pressed a soft kiss against her lips before turning towards the door. “I’ll go pay for the dress, get dressed quickly darling.” Y/n nodded, and Wanda gave her one last smile before softly closing the door as she left. 

Y/n turned back to the mirror with a giddy smile on her face, and her smile didn’t drop even as she inspected the quickly forming hickey’s on her neck. She quickly slipped her clothes back on, and took a moment to compose herself before looking in the mirror one last time. 

She was definitely going to let Wanda buy more clothes for her, especially if it ended with the woman fucking her into oblivion. With that thought, she exited the dressing room and made her way down to where Wanda was waiting. 

Her smile didn’t fade until she was fast asleep in Wanda’s arms. 

Next Chapter

#mommy wanda #dom!wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

[whimsimille]

VACANT ROOM

Lee Dong Wook x fem! reader

"My dear, could you perhaps verify it one more time?" You asked, mustering the most charming smile you could manage in the face of the disinterested and nonchalant receptionist, who seemed more interested in her nails than her job. "I find it incredibly hard to believe that a reputable company like Starship would commit such a glaring oversight."

At half past midnight, the hotel was teeming with actors, singers and idols. Positioned in the center of the lobby, the luxurious building housing the assistant's desk was where you were standing. The interior exuded an atmosphere of old-world elegance, with polished marble floors, ornate chandeliers, and plush velvet drapes adorning the walls. Soft candlelight cast a warm glow over the dining room, illuminating tables adorned with crisp white linens and sparkling silverware.

Guests, dressed in their finest designer attire, mingled and conversed in hushed tones in the grand ballroom. Their quiet laughter pierced the air, merging in perfectly with the sweet notes of a Mozart sonata that drifted from the grand piano in the corner, played by a virtuoso whose fingers moved like dancers across the keys.

"I regret to inform you, ma'am," she retorted, her eyes barely leaving the glossy pages of an article about the latest trends in Seoul's fashion week. "But your company specifically requested a grand suite with a panoramic view spanning across the sea, located on the 16th floor. One king-sized bed, presumably for you and Mr. Lee Dong Wook."

"But that can't be right! There must be some kind of mix-up." Instant panic set in, your pulse going haywire as images swarmed in your mind—you sharing close quarters with him—definitely not on your wish list.

With an exaggerated sigh, she ditched her magazine and leveled her gaze at you for the first time since this little chit-chat commenced. “I assure you, there is no mistake. Everything has been arranged as per the request we received. The company was very explicit about the arrangements."

"Explicit about throwing me into a room with my ex-husband? That doesn't seem like a professional request."

"That's not for me to comment on, ma'am," she replied curtly, picking up her magazine again. "My job is to ensure our guests have the best experience. If you have a problem with your arrangements, I suggest you take it up with your company."

"But that's... it's... preposterous!" you stammered, feeling the blood drain from your face. "There must be some way to rectify...”

"I'm afraid all other rooms are fully booked. Perhaps you could address your grievances with your company, ma'am.”

"Aish…"

You turned your head to the side, spotting Dong Wook standing in the doorway of the lobby, dressed in a new, crisp navy blue suit with trousers tailored to his frame, complete with a matching tie and polished leather shoes. God, he had become insufferable since he discovered fabrics imported from Milan. This was where all the money had been going before the divorce.

Crushing the last of his half-smoked cigarette under the heel of his polished Italian leather shoes, he looked down and saw the flickering neon sign from the hotel entrance reflected in the trail of smoke.

"What the fuck is going on?”

“You ought to watch the language you use, old man,” you retorted, your thumb and index finger nervously smoothing out creases from the Chanel dress handpicked for the company's decadent birthday celebration held at this isolated high-end dwelling. “Prayers should dominate your vocabulary rather than swear words at this stage in life.”

His sharp gaze turned to you, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath his usually calm exterior.

Unmoved or maybe portraying so, you played along, “Just stating the obvious.”

A dismissive snort escaped him as he ran his hand irritatedly through otherwise meticulously groomed locks. “And if I don’t?”

You rolled your eyes, masking the unease creeping into your voice. "Then you'll just be an old man with a foul mouth, won't you? A grumpy, divorced, aging actor with nothing but a string of B-list movies to his name?"

"Better than being a frustrated little girl who got pissed by losing an award to me,” he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm and a bitter bite. "A little girl who can't accept that she's not the best and that someone else could actually outshine her brilliant talent."

A sharp retort tipped the tip of your tongue as you hesitated, but you swallowed it down, heart palpitating. If only the hotel was closer to your home, you'd escape this uncomfortable situation. You'd rather risk wandering down a dark, unfamiliar alley at midnight than share a room with your ex. But you were stuck here, trapped in this ostentatious lobby, miles away from any familiar comfort, forced to face whatever the night would bring.

"Can't you sleep in the same bedroom as your best friend? You two are usually tied by the hip, practically inseparable at every social event," You taunted, eyes glinting under the harsh lobby lights.

“Gong Yoo has a wife and you know it. And I'm not about to impose on their space. What about you? Don't you have other friends that came other than scripts and books? Or did they all get scared off by your charming personality?”

“Oh, you better bet that I'm charming. Maybe that's why our daughter decided to stay with me.”

Before he could respond, a bitter laugh escaping his lips, the woman at the desk cleared her throat, extending a key towards the two of you with a look of forced patience. "I believe this is what you two are fighting over, correct? Perhaps you could decide who gets the bed and who gets the sofa without causing a scene in the lobby?"

You took the key from the receptionist's hand with an exaggerated sigh, turning it over in your fingers. The weight of it felt heavy in your palm, like a lead boulder pulling you down into the pit of despair.

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much; your help was really indispensable.”

Turning back to face Lee Dong Wook, you could barely contain your humiliation as he stood stoically by your side, staring out at the dark ocean beyond the hotel's glass walls. Along with the sound of the ice cubes in his drink and the scent of his expensive cologne, the lobby was filled with the sound of the waves crashing against the coast. You couldn't help but wrinkle your nose at the cloying smell that reminded you too much of your past.

"I suppose we have no choice but to make do," you said finally, motioning for him to follow you towards the elevators.

As he settled into step beside you, the click-clack of your high heels on the marble floor created an odd harmony with his steady gait.

It was almost impossible not to gag at the stale, rich smell of warm metal and coffee that pervaded the elevator. Pressing the button for the sixteenth floor, you peered up at the metal ceiling.

A few seconds later, the doors opened with a soft hiss and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, feeling Lee Dong Wook's hot breath on your neck. He seemed to be waiting for you to take the lead, as if this were some kind of game, a cat-and-mouse chase that you just couldn't seem to win.

Swallowing hard, you walked ahead to the suite number indicated by the keycard.

When you finally turned the handle and pushed open the door, you found yourself face-to-face with an opulent display of luxury: plush red and gold carpets underfoot; crisp white linen tablecloths adorning an ornate dining table; fluffy duvets piled high on a king-sized bed; and a decadent bathroom beyond.

It was too much like the honeymoon suite he'd gotten you when you were still married, and your heart skipped a beat as it registered.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you set your luggage down on one of the side tables.

You turned around to face Lee Dong Wook, who was standing in the doorway, watching your every move intently, reminding you of the way Yeosin would look at you when she was planning a prank. 

Well, she was his mini version after all.

You held your breath as he stepped inside, taking in his tall frame and perfect nose. 

He took a deep breath before reaching up to his necktie and loosening it ever so slightly. "It's going to be a long night," he muttered under his breath as he moved closer towards the window, pulling back one of the heavy curtains to let the cool sea air and the sound of waves splashing against the shore gently lap at his face.

"I'll take the couch. It's not like I haven't endured worse accommodations while filming on location.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, an all-too-familiar gesture. “You have had back pains all the time since giving birth to Yeosin.”

“I don’t," you snapped back immediately, an automatic response honed by years of bickering.

“Yes, you do," he insisted, his tone softening. "I may not have been around recently, but I do remember. You’d wince every time you thought I wasn’t looking. But if you want to play the stubborn card here, if it makes you feel stronger, be my guest. In the meantime, you can freshen up. I'll make a makeshift bed for you, kid.”

There you stood, in the silence that followed, absorbing the sight of him.

It wasn't fair, an inner voice protested, as you took in the jawline you had kissed and nibbled countless times, the tantalizing constellations formed by the moles adorning his neck, each one a landmark you could identify even with your eyes closed, like a child eager to please and win a candy.

In the end, it wasn't fair that he could still find his way into your heart, the way a worshiper finds their way into a long-abandoned cathedral, kneeling in reverence among the dust and the decay, and still find it holy, still find it beautiful that there’s a vacant room waiting for him to lay his head.

He was the prodigal son returning to the home he once renounced, and you? You were the father left to wonder if welcoming him back was a show of futility or a sign of welcomeness.

"You always were stubborn," you retaliated, folding your arms across your chest. "Always thinking you knew best. Well, I'm not that same naive 23 year old girl you married. I can take care of myself.”

“Stop it. I have a headache right now.”

"You were always quick to jump in and play the hero, weren't you? But this isn't a drama, Dong Wook. There's no director yelling cut, no script to guide us. This is real life. And in real life, I don't need you to save me."

"I never asked to be your hero," he retorted, the quietness of his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "And I never wanted to be one. I just wanted to be there for you. But you always made it so damn hard." 

Frustration bubbled inside you, "You think I made it hard? You were the one who walked away. You were the one who gave up on us." 

“She’s only six,” he countered weakly. “She doesn’t understand what’s happening.” 

“You’d be surprised, Lee. Kids are smart. They pick up on more than we give them credit for. She knows something’s wrong. She misses her father. She misses us being a family.”

As the words left your mouth, you could see a flicker of pain cross his eyes. But you didn't care. You were too angry, too hurt to care about his feelings. 

With a huff, you turned on your heel, leaving him alone in the bedroom. As you slammed the door shut, the metal clanged loudly against the wall, echoing through the otherwise silent room. You hear the latch click into place, sealing you inside the small, enclosed space.

The bathroom was spacious and modern, with a luxurious glass-enclosed shower stall and his-and-hers sinks. 

Before you was the daunting task of turning on the water to run a hot bath. The faucet gave a small shudder, like a beast waking from slumber, as it sputtered to life, filling the room with the biting smell of chlorine and the comforting warmth of hot steam. A bottle of expensive shampoo, perhaps a gift from one of his many sponsors, sat on the vanity counter. You uncapped it, and its scent—a tantalizing blend of jasmine and sandalwood—tickled your nose as you sniffed it slightly.

The room began to mist up as your fingers fumbled at the buttons on your dress as if they had a mind of their own, desperate to get out of this suffocating fabric that reminded you too much of happier times when he'd slide them down your spine slowly and carefully, making you gasp under the cover of darkness.

Heat flooded your cheeks, remembering how those fingers had once traced your entire body—the pulse point at your wrist, where his wedding ring used to be, now replaced by a thin silver band around your third finger.

Stepping into the tub, the water was scalding hot—almost too hot to touch—but you reveled in it nonetheless.

As you slipped into the tub until it was almost full, feeling it lap at your neck and shoulders, you let out a long sigh of relief.

Closing your eyes, you breathed heavily as you began to scrub the last few days off yourself. 

Memories flooded back—years' worth of memories that had led up to this moment: the late-night movie marathons where you both would cuddle on the couch, the way he would laugh at your comical impersonations of movie characters, the way he would always keep the last slice of pizza for you, the way he would read bedtime stories to your daughter, his voice imitating various characters, making her giggle. You remembered his bright smile when your daughter took her first step, his eyes filled with tears of joy, the proud look on his face when she called him 'Daddy' for the first time.

But alongside the sweet memories, the bitter ones also found their way: the arguments that lasted till dawn, the slamming of doors, the sound of shattering glass, and the cold silence that followed. You remembered the canceled family trips due to his sudden shooting schedules, the forgotten birthdays and anniversaries, the vacant spot beside you in bed getting colder each day, late-night calls from agents about last-minute script changes, and sleepless nights spent worrying about Yeosin while he was off filming some romantic comedy filled with clichés and air kisses towards irrelevant starlets.

You scrubbed until your skin began to redden and sting from the heat, until all that was left was residual anger and resentment. Then you climbed out carefully, reaching for the plush white towel hanging on a stainless steel rack.

After drying off, you slipped into your silk pajamas and brushed your teeth with Totoro’s brush, the one Yeosin insisted on bringing so that you could remember her while she stayed with her Nana.

Stepping back into the suite, you expected to see Dong Wook, but he was nowhere in sight. The room was empty, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant murmur of voices from the television.

You walked towards the window, peering out into the darkness. The moon was a thin crescent in the night sky, casting a faint glow over the sea. Lee was probably out there, taking one of his late-night walks along the beach, letting the cool sea breeze clear his mind.

Turning around, you noticed the makeshift bed he had prepared on the couch. The cushions were arranged neatly, with a soft blanket folded at one end and a pillow with a fresh case. Beside it, there was a small side table with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers—for your bruised ankles and sore legs, no doubt. Despite everything, Dong Wook was still considerate.

You walked over to the couch, running your fingers over the soft fabric. It wasn't a king-sized bed, but it would do. 

Lowering yourself onto the couch, you winced slightly, feeling the day's exertion catch up with you.

You slowly stretched out your legs, trying to find a comfortable position. As you did so, you could feel the soreness in your muscles easing slightly. 

Curling up on the couch, you wrapped the blanket around yourself, pulling it up to your chin.

Lying there, you found yourself mimicking Yeosin's favorite position—curled up like a small ball, waiting for her father to come home and pick her up. It was a bittersweet feeling, a reminder of the simpler times, when the lines between work and personal life hadn't blurred, when the word 'divorce' hadn't been a part of your vocabulary.

As you closed your eyes, the events of the day replayed in your mind: the party where he'd been eyed by other women, the looks he gave you when you seemed more interested in your Champaign than his speech, the receptionist's words, the look on his face, the tense silence in the elevator. But despite the turmoil, you felt a strange sense of calmness. Maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the realization that you could handle whatever life threw at you.

With that thought, you slowly drifted off to sleep, the soft hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of the sea lulling you into a deep, peaceful slumber.

-------------------------------------------------

As the first rays of dawn creeped in through the slats of the blinds, you stirred from your sleep.

Slowly blinking your eyes open, you adjusted to the soft morning light, feeling something different.

Under you was not the stiff fabric of the couch, but something softer, more yielding. You didn't know when or why, but here you are, in the king sized bed that was supposed to be Dong Wook’s.

Confusion clouded your sleep-laden mind as you tried to piece together the puzzle and heat hushed to your cheeks as you felt something nuzzling your neck, the soft sensation making you bite back a groan.

Suddenly, you felt a warm presence between your legs, a muscular thigh that was solid yet comforting. It took a moment for you to register the protective arm draped securely around your waist, pulling you closer against a firm, muscled chest.

"Wha--?" you started, your voice cracking as surprise jolted you fully awake.

Before you could react, a chill coursed through you as your shirt was ridden up, an audacious hand slipping underneath to splay across your bare skin.

"Shh, it's just me, baby," a deep voice whispered in your exposed left breast before sucking it into his mouth softly, tugging at the pink flesh with his teeth while rolling the other hardened nub between his fingers.

As he slid down even further, his tongue softly licking the valley between before finding its way into your cleavage, your mind reeled from the situation. You gasped at the feeling of his cool tongue tracing circles around the right nipple, tickling it lightly as it hardened even more under his touch.

Your hand instinctively reached up, fingers tangling in the soft strands of hair. It was familiar—too familiar. The scent of sandalwood and sea salt filled your senses—a scent you had known for years, a scent that brought back a flood of memories, reminding you of all the times he had made love to you on a beach house's balcony after one of his late-night strolls along the shore.

"Dong Wook…” you breathed out, the sound more like a plea than anything else. The name felt foreign on your tongue after so long, tasting bitter and sweet at the same time.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, his voice a soothing hum in the quiet room. "I missed you."

"I--I don't know what to say," you stammered, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events.

"Just relax. All you have to do is open up those pretty legs and let me fuck this pussy once again.”

His tongue found its way into your mouth; you tasted the remnants of the Merlot from last night. You sucked on it eagerly, feeling him groan softly as he pushed deeper into your throat.

Hungry. You were hungry for him, starved for this intimacy that had been denied to you for too long. 

You couldn't believe it—this was Lee Dong Wook, the man who had once claimed not to know how to please a woman properly, who had once slept with dozens of nameless starlets and models just to forget your name.

Letting go of your lips, his head found its way into your neck and his hand slid further up, pressing against the mound hidden by your silk pajamas.

You didn't trust yourself enough to speak, fearing your voice would betray the growing need twisting inside you. Instead, you responded by parting your legs slightly, granting him access to your cunt.

Expertly unbuttoning your pajamas with his other hand, Dong Wook spread the fabric apart, revealing all of you to his hungry gaze. 

Your pussy glistened in the dim light, a testament to the tangible evidence of your arousal. He swept away your slit with one broad thumb, gathering slick and marveling at how wet and ready you were for him.

"That's my good girl.”

Unable to resist any longer, he dipped two fingers into your slick folds while his thumb continued its sensual assault on your swollen nub. Pleasure started to unfold in waves of white heat, and the combination made you utter moans.

With a devilish smirk, he withdrew his hand and brought it up to his mouth, sucking on one finger. 

"Fuck, you're so wet and sweet for me, honey. Tell me, didn't any of your flings with those little boys in the set make you cum like I used to? Or were they so young that the only things they observed were these lovely curves and a treat for their hands?

His words stung, but the ache between your legs pulsed with need, completely drowning out any traces of regret.

In the haze of his touch, you were lost. It was obvious that you ought to halt him, shoo him away, and remind him of what he had done to you—severing all ties, abandoning you while he toured the globe filming and failed to remember you existed.

But the truth was that you missed him, missed the sensations his mouth could create in your mouth, and missed the way his hands could change from being rough to being gentle in an instant.

“Shut up, Lee.”

There it was, the opening salvo of a fight, but he ignored it, knowing that once you got past this hurdle, you would be his again.

He rewarded your honesty with a devilish grin before sliding his hand back between your legs, slipping his fingers deeper inside you. "Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl," he murmured against your skin before pressing his index and middle fingers deeper, crooking them to find your g-spot with practiced ease. “I guess I'm the only one who teaches nice manners to our daughter, huh?”

You moaned long and low, bucking against him. Your whole body felt like it was shivering underneath the touch, like a fever dream that turned into reality.

"Drop this shit before I decide to leave you with a purple dick."

"Calm down, darling… I'm just playing with you, hum?"

He pushed you down into the mattress then, holding your hips in place as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of you in a rhythm that had your body trembling with need. 

You could feel the bed squeaking beneath you as you arched into him, craving more contact as he thrust faster and harder into your pussy, sliding off on to his fingers as if they were a big, thick dick. 

It was perfect; it hurt and felt amazing at the same time.

“Jesus…”

A whimper escaped before you could stop it, betraying how much you needed him inside of you again.

"Yeah, that's it. Just take it," he encouraged, watching with dark eyes as you moaned his name while his fingers plunged deeper into your slick folds, finding that spot that always made you come apart.

"You need this; you need me."

He was right. You did need him in this moment, in this bed, even if it was wrong and twisted. You needed him to make you forget everything else—the cameras flashing, the public scrutiny, the anger. He'd always been good at distracting you from all that.

"Oh, fuck," you moan into the pillow, feeling the pleasure coiling inside you like a snake ready to strike. Your wetness pours down his hand and fingertips before it drips onto the comforter beneath you. 

You open your eyes to look at him, seeing how he bites his lip in concentration as he works you open with his fingers, tongue and teeth. His dick twitches against your leg, eager and ready. There's no one else who can make you feel this way; there's no one else who could make love to your body with such precision even after all these years apart.

"Squirt for me, baby. I know you can, hum? Like old times.”

“I… I can't…” you whimper, but he doesn't let up.

“Shhhh, baby… Come on, you can let it out. Soak me. Soak the sheets. Show me how much you want me.” He urges, his words acting like a spell, pushing you further towards the edge.

His fingers worked faster, his thumb pressing down on your clit in relentless circles while his other hand gripped your hip hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand slides up to your throat, fingers closing around it lightly, the threat of pressure making your pulse race even faster. 

Overwhelmed, you felt yourself let go, your walls clenching around his fingers as a rush of warmth gushed out of you. Your body arched as you squirted, your release soaking both his hand and the sheets beneath you. 

“Dong Wook!" you scream, the words echoing in the room as you come apart under his touch.

The sensation was too much; your body was sensitive and overstimulated. You whimpered, but his fingers didn't relent, continuing to stroke your swollen nub even as your body twitched and shuddered.

As you came down from your high, your mind felt foggy, and your body was limp. The surroundings softened into a comforting mist as you sank deeper into subspace. But he wasn't done yet.

Even as your body begged for a reprieve, he moved over you, his body pressing down on yours as he positioned himself at your slit.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, your voice weak and shaky.

“What do you think, wifey? I'm going to pound into you until you're begging for mercy. Going to fill you up so good, you'll be begging me for another baby. Want to give Yeosin a baby brother. Want to make a little version of me for her to play with. Can you imagine our son running around the house, causing trouble just like his father? But first...” he trails off, the hand on your throat, applying such pressure that dark spots form behind your eyelashes.

“First, I'm going to fuck you senseless."

Suddenly, your phone rings, the sound piercing the silence like a gunshot. You glance at the caller ID and see Gong Yoo's wife, Ji-Eun, name flashing on the screen.

Well, he'd have to wait then.

"Dong Wook, it's Ji-Eun," you try to protest, but he ignores you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Let it ring. She can wait," he growls, and before you can protest further, he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt inside your wet heat.

But the ringing never stops.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four calls.

With a sigh, Dong Wook grabs your phone from the bedside table, places it on the pillow next to you and answers.

Before the line could finally connect, he changes positions, seating himself against the headboard with you straddled in his lap. Your breasts bounce with every single movement, and soft moans spill from your mouth as he continues to thrust into you.

"Hello?" He breathes into the phone, his voice steady as if he isn't buried deep inside you. His free hand grips your hip, guiding you up and down his length at a relentless pace while he talks to Gong Yoo's wife, Ji-Eun.

"Dong Wook, what the hell were you thinking?" She scolds from the other end of the line. "You can't just arrange for you and your ex-wife to share a room, no matter how many strings you pull!"

Dong Wook chuckles lowly. “Well, it seems our plan worked perfectly then," he murmurs in your ear, his warm breath fanning over your skin. His words surprise you, making you pause.

He planned this?

Ignoring your shocked expression, he continues his conversation. "Listen, I appreciate your concern, Ji-Eun, but there's no need to go yelling at the manager or looking for another room. We're adults; we can handle this." He punctuates his words with a particularly harsh lift of his hips, ripping a breathy moan from your throat.

Meanwhile, Ji-Eun continues her rambling, her words becoming background noise as you frown, scratching his shoulders and trying not to lose your shit. It would be humilliating coming all over his dick only from seeing it poking your belly.

Suddenly, Dong Wook pulls the phone away from his ear, offering it to you. "I think she wants to talk to you," he murmurs, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he kisses your nose.

You glare at him, about to protest, but his hand encircles your bruised neck again, making you relent.

With a huff, you take the phone, pressing it to your ear as you try to keep your voice steady. "Hello?"

Dong Wook smirks, his hand dropping to join the other on your hips, guiding you up and down his length like a well-used doll again.

This man is the devil.

"Oh, thank God, you're there, honey." The older woman exclaimed, relief evident in her voice. "I was worried about you! I'm on my way to your room now. We need to sort this out."

Panic set in; the last thing you wanted was for her to see you in this compromising position. You had to dissuade her.

"No, wait! You don't need to do that. We're handling it. We're...we're talking things out," you lied, hoping she'd buy it. 

"Are you sure? I can be there in five." Her voice was filled with concern, but you could detect a hint of suspicion.

"Yes, we're fine. Really," you insisted, biting back a moan as Dong Wook hit a particularly sensitive spot. "We'll...we'll talk tomorrow, okay? Goodnight."

Abruptly, you ended the call, tossing your phone onto the nearby bedside table, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

Turning your wrath on him, you struck his chest with all the strength you could muster. "I swear I'm going to kill you, you absolute jerk!”

"Oh really?" He groaned in response, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "But darling, before you commit homicide, don't you think you should let me leave a lasting heir on this divine body of yours?"

Before you could lash out again, his other hand darted out, capturing your wrist mid-air. His grip was firm effectively stopping your hand from making contact with his broad chest again.

“I want you.”

“You’re crazy, Lee! Delusional, old, out of your damn mind!”

“I’m yours too and I still love you.”

His eyes eyed you hungrily, his gaze dark with desire and something else. Something that made your heart pound out of your chest, something that made you weak in the knees. He loved you once, and he loves you still.

Or maybe it wasn't love anymore—maybe it was possession, maybe it was lust—but it felt real in that moment. You couldn't resist him, no matter how hard you tried.

“L-love me?” you husk, staring at him in disbelief as you feel his cock pulsating inside you. He pushes deeper, but you don't resist. You feel an odd mix of anger and desire, pain and pleasure, all mingling together into an intoxicating brew.

His tongue flicks out, licking your lips as he leans down, his face close enough that your noses touch. "Yes, I do," he murmurs against your lips. "And I always will." His voice is low and rough with want as he kisses you gently before plunging his hips once more.

In the end, you realized that it wasn't about fairness. It was about acceptance. Acceptance of the past, acceptance of the present, and acceptance of the potential of the future. It was about opening up that vacant room in your heart once more, dusting off the cobwebs and letting the light in.

Maybe it was welcomeness. Maybe it was time to let go of the pain of the past and embrace the possibility of a new beginning. Maybe it was time to let Dong Wook find his way back not as a prodigal son but as a cherished guest. Maybe it was time to let love bloom once more.

And just like that, the vacant room wasn't so vacant anymore.

#seo moonjo #lee dong wook #lee dongwook x reader #lee dongwook x fem! reader #imagine #fanfic #rpf #hell is other people #homecoming #divorce