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#lock the door and move something so the sound is a little less loud
dira333 · 1 day
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The sky is everywhere - Hawks x reader
A/N: requested by @misfit-megumi - Prompts are: "the sky is everywhere" and "I'm tired of love songs"
Warning: heavy angst to somewhat fluff. I just let my brain take the wheel
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The sky is everywhere - Hawks x Reader (Requested by misfit-megumi) 
“I′m so tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love songs, tired of love…” You’re swaying a little as you sing, almost miss your mouth when you bring the bottle of wine back up to your lips. 
To call the last few months “rough” would have been an understatement. 
Something in you is begging you to go home, but that place doesn’t exist anymore.
Your formerly shared apartment feels more like a trap now. You don’t want to be in there, yet you just can’t move out. 
“Hey,” your friend’s grip is soft, cautious. Like you’re one of those hurt animals that might lash out. She thought it would be a good idea to party, try and meet somebody new. But two months is not nearly enough time to forget about someone you loved so deeply.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“I’m fine,” you argue, but you both know that’s a lie. You haven’t been fine in weeks. Not since…
“Can we do some shots?” You ask, dreading the moment you have to leave this place and face reality yet again. If you get hammered enough… maybe it will buy you some time.
They say Grief comes in stages. If that’s true, you’re still stuck in denial.
-
There is no place on earth where you’re free of the memories.
Even when all the blinds are closed and you’re lying in the dark, you can clearly see the twinkle in Keigo’s eyes. Hear him whistling low at your sight. Feel the caress of a single feather.
He left a few months ago. 
It wasn’t the first time he had to leave for an undercover mission. Not the first time he didn’t give you any information. 
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he said often, kissing your temple when you connected the dots yourself, came up to him with what you thought he was going to get into. You had been right every time.
So you knew to be scared when he packed his things this time.
Because he was going to infiltrate the League of Villains. 
“You should stop doing that,” he said, but there was no twinkle in his eye when he said it. He sounded tired, resigned to his fate. It should have been a warning.
You should have locked yourself in the spare bedroom, put your hands over your ears, and pretended you didn’t hear him.
But you didn’t. And he broke up with you.
Two days later he went officially missing. Some think he’s dead.
You don’t know what would hurt less.
-
The light is hurting your eyes. 
You close them and sink back into the pillows, no more willing to face the day than you have been yesterday.
The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol. If only you could fall back asleep but now that you’re awake, all the noises seem to increase by a tenfold. The clock is ticking so loud it feels like your head is vibrating. Someone in the apartment above you is showering and the water trickling down sounds like rainfall. Then there’s the smacking sound of your fridge door being closed-
Your eyes fly open but you blink against the pain as you try and regain your memories.
Did you bring someone home last night?
You wouldn’t, right?!
But there’s someone in your apartment, footsteps coming closer and closer.
You grab your pillow and push yourself up, the room spinning. The blinds are only partially open, leaving the doorway in the shadow. But what you can see is black and glistening, like leather-
Your scream cuts through the silence like the pillow soaring through the air. 
Your invader catches it with ease. When he lowers it and steps into the room, your breath catches in your throat.
You know those eyes.
“Keigo?” You ask, your voice scratchy. He’s wearing a black mask that covers almost all of his face. Bandages cover the rest of his head, but some of his hair is still peaking through, confirming your guess.
He nods slowly and drops the pillow to the floor. In his right hand is a bottle of water.
You want to ask, yell, beg him to stay… but all you can do is lean forward and empty your stomach.
-
It’s unnatural for Keigo to be this quiet.
It’s unnatural for you to be the same.
But if this is a fever dream, you don’t want to end it with your words.
Wordlessly he cleans the floor. Wordlessly he urges you to drink water and take the painkiller he found in the kitchen cabinet. 
Wordlessly he slips into bed with you and holds you, and you pretend that everything is okay.
It hurts even more when you wake up a second time and he’s gone yet again.
-
When he returns, almost a week later, after a press conference that shook the world, he’s no longer wearing the mask. His face is scared and the room painfully empty of his wings, his presence. He seems to have shrunken in on himself.
“You’re too clever for your own good,” he tells you, feet planted on your doorstep. You step aside to let him in, hoping that he will. He does. 
Neither of you talks about the topic at hand. To someone who doesn’t know your history, it might look like nothing ever happened. You cook dinner together, your hand raised to stop him from stealing the noodles out of the pot, plucking the chicken out of the pan before you can serve the food. You sink into him whenever he’s close, but neither of you addresses the question that needs to be asked.
At least until the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean and your body heavily sinks into the mattress, your heart longing for him to stay near.
“Would you take me back?” He whispers, quiet enough that you might have missed it, had you not been waiting for it.
“Would you?”
He shakes his head. You can feel the motion where his chin dishevels your hair. 
But isn’t that why the two of you have always been so great together? Because you do what he wouldn’t and he does what you never will?
Your hands find his arms, take hold of him in the only way you can. 
“If you ever break up with me again, I will make you regret it,” you say, though it’s an empty threat. He chuckles, but it doesn’t sound amused.
“You already did.”
-
You’ve always been too clever for your own good.
Does it soothe the hurt to know he only broke up with you to keep you safe? No.
But it makes it easier to take him back.
One day, hopefully, he will realize that you’re safest when you’re with him.
But until then, you will try your best to hold him close.
20 notes · View notes
sttoru · 3 months
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toji never celebrates his birthday and thus learned to treat it as any other regular day. well, until you came into the picture and did the unexpected.
☀︎|tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut mixed with fluff & sprinkle of angst. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji late 20’s /early 30’s) implied size difference, p in v -> unprotected, cowgirl position, toji actually being a soft dom kinda, praise mixed with tiny bit of degradation, slight corruption kink, dirty talk / teasing, biting, creampie, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl \\ pretty, innocent, small'. not beta read. happy bday hubby!
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“i told ya — fuck jus’ like that — not to buy or do anythin’ for me on m’birthday.” toji’s head lolls back against the pillow while his rough palms explore every inch of your gorgeous body. the word ‘birthday’ rolls off his tongue in a bitter manner. the assassin never celebrates that dreadful day, as he calls it.
he’s never found it to be worth remembering. his family couldn’t care less about that day when he was a child, so why would he?
but, that changed when you came into his life. toji flinched when he heard a loud ‘pop!’ sound upon opening the front door to his apartment. he was used to those noises being one of danger and thus swiftly reached for the spare weapon in his pocket. . . only to notice you standing behind the door with a party popper and a homemade cake.
the older man froze in place for a good few seconds, though was quick to realise the situation and relax. after the initial shock died down, you excitedly dragged him off to the living room to show him the presents you bought.
toji's first reflex was to scold you for spending money on him. he had never gotten anything for his birthday—it was weird to finally receive something from someone who actually cares for him. it somehow made him feel guilty as well. was he worth spending money on?
toji’s impressed reactions when unwrapping the presents showed you exactly how foreign the moment was to him: he’s never opened any gifts before. that much was even more evident after witnessing his inexperience in peeling off the tape from the boxes.
eventually, after opening around seven gifts, toji got to unwrap his final present. the present which was you.
the way you innocently yet seductively whispered words of affection in his ears made his mind go blank. even if it were simple ‘i love you’s and ‘happy birthday’ wishes. the red dress you had on and how your figure looked in it made everything ten times more sexual to the assassin. anything after that was a complete blur. his body moved on its own and yours followed right after until you finally landed on top of him — riding him.
toji’s half-lidded eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight he's witnessing. maybe his birthday wasn't such a bad day after all; the loving memories you're currently creating would surely outbalance the negative ones.
you shake your head at toji’s earlier sentence and tighten your grip on his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his skin and leaving faint red marks. you almost can’t talk due to the overexertion—your hips continuously rising and falling back down for the sake of your lover, “i- mph, wanted to get you all those things. you deserve them, toji.”
the view of your small body trying its hardest to not give in to its need of an orgasm made the assassin dizzy. his large hands settle on your waist and his eyes watch your every move from behind his black bangs. toji silently hisses as he feels your tight cunt clenching around him, “. . . f-shit. easy there.”
your pretty face is his weakness. especially when your usual innocent look gets replaced by one filled with carnal desire. toji can easily get off to the idea of him having that effect on you—his words, body, looks and actions that corrupted your every being in intimate moments like these.
“such a sweet thing,” the dark-haired man coos, brushing the stray locks of hair away from your face with his index finger. his other hand rubs up and down your inner thigh, each time getting dangerously closer to your clit, though never getting a single touch in. the scarred corner of his lips twitch in an amused grin at your whines, “oh? want me to touch you there, princess? that what ya want?”
you nod without a second thought. you were trying your best to hold out for as long as your body allowed it — desperately wanting to reach your climax at the same time toji was going to — but the idea seems impossible the longer this continued.
your boyfriend grins smugly, raising his eyebrows before entirely removing his hands from your body. his arms rest behind his head as he reverts to simply enjoying the view of you riding him so well. toji can never not be mean to you. your little pouts only drive him to tease you more and more, “hm, well, ya see - i thought you were gonna spoil me today, not the other way around.”
“t-toji! tha's mean. . .” you huff, bottom lip trembling. your arms circle his neck and your upper body leans forward to rest against his chiseled chest. you stop your hip thrusts and instead grind against his pelvis, trying to stimulate your clit on your own.
toji clicks his tongue, but figured it was best to leave you be. he didn't want to be too rough on you today - you had been nothing but sweet to him the entire night. you had blessed him with his first, proper birthday experience as well.
“aww, my little girl ‘s pouting,” the older man snickers and his hands return to their place. he allows you to grind against him, the sensations being amazing for him as well. the tip of his cock almost reaches your cervix from the current angle and your bodily fluids smear all over his thighs and lower abdomen, “shh shh, ‘tis alright.”
your needy whines and moans are music to his ears. toji rubs your lower back and pats your ass every now and then, squeezing the soft flesh gently just to hear another whimper spill from your lips. there was no way you could hold back now. especially when your bodies were rubbing together and you could feel toji’s defined abs and hardened muscles underneath you.
“toji - nngh - can i? wan' — wanna cum.” your small hands tighten their grip around his broad shoulders. you earn a low, breathy chuckle from your lover. the increasing sensations in his lower stomach were an indication to how close he was to his orgasm as well. he wasn’t going to deny you any further.
toji sighs in content and presses a soft kiss to your temple, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. it was a rare occurence to see that vulnerable and affectionate look in his piercing green eyes. the little smile plastered on his face only added to the soft and intimate atmosphere.
. . . well, toji wouldn’t be toji if he wasn’t going to add catch you off guard in any way or form. your eyes widen and your body jolts forward as he suddenly starts putting work in—his hips ramming into yours from below, the skin-to-skin sounds resonating throughout the room once again. it was like the wind got knocked out of you for a good second, “fuck! w-wait, toji! tojitojitoji!”
the older man holds tightly onto you — cradling you in his arms as he lightly lifts your hips to have free reign over the pace and movements of your two bodies — thrusting up into you over and over. he lets out a series of small, silent groans as he feels his climax nearing;
“shit, yeah - ‘m gonna stuff this pussy of y’rs full, princess.” toji's callused fingers curl around your hip bones, using them as leverage to increase the intensity of his thrusts, “think you can take it all?”
you mewl and nod again and again. you’re on the brink of tears when the waves of pleasure reach their peak. your eyes roll back and your body convulses, legs shaking and squirming during those few seconds of pure bliss. your adorable babble in the form of toji’s name was all your lover needed to push him over the edge—
“fuck. ‘m gonna cum,” toji groans and firmly bites your shoulder to hold back any more noises when he finally decided to let go. a choked sob leaves your lips the instant you feel the hot spurts of cum seeping into your senstive cunt. the older man continues to thrust in and out sloppily, riding out his orgasm and fucking his cum deeper into you at the same time, “so good — i love you s’much.”
you smile exhaustedly at the love confession from your boyfriend. toji’s grip on you loosens up after he completely emptied his balls deep inside your cunt, his jaw finally unclenching. he plants a few wet kisses along the bite marks on your shoulder in attempt to soothe the pain.
you catch your breath as you rest on top of toji's body. he didn't put the slightest effort into pulling out of you — even as a tiny puddle of your mixed juices stains his skin.
“i love you too, toji,” you reply and earn another lazy kiss to your forehead. he rubs the back of your head and massages your plush thighs in a tender manner. nothing could make this moment even more perfect, you thought to yourself.
you smile as you pull your head back to look into toji’s eyes. he was already looking at you — admiring your gorgeous looks as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. you capture his lips in a delicate kiss, “happy birthday.”
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lollixp0p · 2 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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Text
Girls Night
--genre + trope: FLUFF!!!, sfw
---pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader
--word count: 0.7k
--summary: you thought that getting ready for girls night would be easy, but peter makes it harder when he's staring at you like that.
--warnings: some smooches, peter would do anything for the reader, mentions of being drunk, so much fluff wow.
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--gif credits: @gatorstillman
You thoroughly believe that girls night is sacred, and should be honored at least twice a month. Every part of girls night, and sometimes morning, is something so special to you. Getting ready for tonight should’ve been uneventful, and pretty straightforward, but this time to yourself is quickly interrupted by Peter’s big brown eyes staring into the side of your face. He’s lying on your shared bed right next to the vanity he bought and put together for you after watching you hunch over on the floor next to a mirror that is half your size. 
You swear that if you looked hard enough into Peter’s eyes, you could see hearts in them. It feels like his eyes haven’t left you ever since you started getting ready. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest, but you do look over occasionally when he seems a little too quiet. “Hi baby,” a dopey smile plastered on his features. 
“Hi, my love,” you chirp back, “what are you doing?”
He shifts to get closer to you, “Just looking at you.”
“Oh okay, baby. Don’t forget to blink,” a teasing smile escapes your lips.
Peter doesn’t even respond back in defense of your comment, he just keeps staring at you. “You’re so beautiful,” was the only thing that left his mouth. 
You’re shocked, and he’s still staring at you as if you’re made out of gold. 
Looking down at the time on your phone, you rush to finish applying your lip gloss before you head to your closet to find something to wear. Peter’s eyes never leave your frame as you frantically move from one side of the room to the other, searching for an outfit. The only sound was the music you put on before you started getting ready, you couldn’t even tell if Peter was even coherent anymore, but you needed to leave in less than ten minutes and Peter was the last thing on your mind. 
As you finally put on an outfit you’re happy with, you take one last glance in the mirror before turning to Peter, “How do I look?” Still unsure of you’re clothes, you pull and pick at the material on you, awaiting his answer. 
Still lying in bed with a hand holding his head up, he says, “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Y/N.”
A sigh of relief leaves your lips before you take a few steps toward his relaxed form on the bed. Sitting down, you pull on some shoes you found next to your vanity, “I’ll be back soon,” you turn to face him, “I love you.”
He takes this opportunity to reach his hand up and pull you into his lips. A deep and warm kiss is shared between the two of you, and Peter has no intention of letting you go. He wishes you didn’t have to go out tonight, even though it’s been planned for weeks. Pulling away breathlessly, you look at Peter’s now sparkly lips, a laugh leaves you as you realize your lip gloss has transferred onto him. 
He doesn’t care, too love-struck to care about what he looks like right now. Bringing your hand up to hold his face, you wipe the sticky product off his lips as you continue to laugh at the situation. He takes the back of your hand and holds your hand there before turning to kiss your palm. “I love you, bug,” he gives your palm one last peck, “have fun and be safe, yeah?”
Standing up, you stand at the foot of the bed, “You know I always am.” 
Peter finally sits up, coming out of his daze to place himself in front of you, “Mhm…”
Leaning down to give him one last kiss you start to make your way to the front door, not before a playful smack is felt on your butt. You smirk before you yell a loud and dragged out ‘bye’, before closing the front door and locking it behind you. 
Peter lays back down, already missing you, a sigh escaping his lips. Not even a minute passes before he can hear the excited squeals of you and your friends meeting each other outside. Smiling to himself, he knows that he’ll have to take care of your drunken state when you come home later tonight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
--author's note: just some more fluff with tasm!peter to end your week <3...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything:). ok, bye ily<3333
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stargazedwinchester · 14 days
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Soft Sounds | Dean
Summary: Dean mocks you for listening to nature sounds/lo-fi music while you sleep.
Based off of this request here, thank you! <3
Word count: 996
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♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
Sleeping with any sort of noise has always been so comforting for you, having to live with the loud sounds of the world, all of the trauma you've endeavoured keeps you awake at night, memories creeping back from the most horrific times in your life.
You bought yourself your own little white noise machine a week ago, it makes multiple different sounds, and your favourites are lo-fi music and rain/thunder sounds. It's not every night that you have to use this, though, but it really does help. Especially with sleeping alone, your brain loves to play tricks on you during your quietest hours.
Tonight, you turn on your machine, clicking the button on top to change which sound you'd prefer to hear tonight. Your door is slightly ajar, knowing that the brothers were in the kitchen sharing a couple of beers and catching up. You had already told them you're going to have an early night for once and try to catch up on a lot of sleep you've missed out on recently. Doing this could probably help your awful sleep schedule.
You change into your pyjamas, a t-shirt and shorts combo that you threw on from the night before. Trying to look good while you slept is never the first thought since you literally live with two men who couldn't give any less of a crap, also, you're not dating either of them. You climb into bed and throw the covers over you, moving your hair out of your face, and lay on your side. Scrolling through your phone, you try to focus on the sounds coming from your machine, and within minutes, you're knocked out.
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
As Sam and Dean call it a night, Sam stays to watch a movie in the main room, whilst Dean makes his way down toward the bedrooms. He notices your bedroom door is still slightly open, and he assumes you're awake.
"Hey, Y/-" He pauses, seeing you're fast out with your phone screen lit up, the lights still on and some noise coming from a weird-looking radio. He frowns, not knowing what is going on. He very quietly makes his way into your bedroom, and locks your phone, placing it on your bedside table. He dims the lights as he pads on over to your radio. "What the Hell is this?" He asks himself, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He glances at the tiny screen that presents what's playing. "She sleeps to this?" He scoffs, and a small grin appears on his face. He looks back at you, huffing. "This is such a Y/N thing to have." He says, standing back up and glancing over at you. Why would she ever own something like this? He thought to himself. It's stupid.
Your positioning in bed makes Dean chuckle to himself. You quite literally take up the whole bed, sprawled out like a starfish. It's mostly funny to him because of how cute you look when you're completely conked out. Your hair in your face, your shirt slightly riding up your torso from the amount of times you've tried to get comfy. "Hold on, is that my shirt?" He laughs quietly, admiring how natural you are.
Dean usually goes for the typical blonde, blue-eyed type of girl. The ones that show that they know they're sexy, that they can get any man they desire, but you - you were different. You never gave a damn about how you looked. If someone liked you, you'd make sure they get every single side of you, every single flaw and weakness. Having Dean see you completely barefaced and look like you just collapsed on your bed was the least of your worries.
Dean's gaze hovers over you for another minute or so, he catches himself smiling, noticing how comfy you are. You shuffle, which scares him a little, panicking that you're going to wake up to him watching you sleep.
"Dean?"
"Y-yeah?" He whispers, taking his hands out of his pockets.
"What are you doing in here?" You groan, wiping your hair out of your face, barely opening your eyes. "I um, heard your little radio thing and... I got curious." He says, an awkward smile appearing on his full lips. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head. You hum quietly in agreement with what he said. Whether Dean understood or not, it didn't matter. "Are you staying?" You mumble, shuffling yourself to the side to make more room. You quietly pat the side of the bed, inviting Dean to join you.
His heart skipped a beat. Sharing a bed with the only girl who genuinely liked him for him? It's almost unbelievable.
"Are you sure? I can go back to my room-"
"Dean, just get in." You say, pulling the covers open for him. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face looked as if it had been slapped on. He takes off his flannel shirt revealing his dark grey t-shirt underneath, and also taking his jeans off down to his underwear. He gently sits down on your bed, ensuring there's still enough space for you. He keeps his space, though, not wanting to give any wrong ideas. "Why were you looking at my machine?" You say, and Dean grins. "It looks weird. Why do you sleep with it?"
"It's to help me sleep."
"It's to help me sleep," He mocks, shutting his eyes. "Just sleep in silence, it's not that hard." He adds, and you huff. "So funny." You grin, slowly moving closer toward him. "It's nice though, really nice..." He trails, his eyes are fully shut, and his body is relaxing. "Come here," He says, adjusting himself so he's lying slightly above you, and you move in to lay on his chest, your leg intertwined with his. He keeps his arm rested above his head, his other hand caressing your hair. "This is nice," He mumbles, almost instantly drifting to sleep.
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strawbsj · 14 days
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hiii i love your account!! can you please do gp stepsis hanni taking readers virginity?? 🥹
Aww thank you so much love!!🤭❤️
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Pairings: G!p stepsis Hanni x fem reader!
Warnings: somno, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), babytrapping, reader bleeds a little, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, thigh fucking, tit job, p in v, not proofread, virgin reader, step cest and just filthy smut!!!
Word count: 1k ish
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She was the sweetest Step sister you could ever have, she was truly sent from heaven and the sweetest girl you’ve ever met.
She’d make you breakfast with little motivational notes, she’d do your laundry knowing how much you don’t like doing it, she’d spend hours to help you if you need help in your school work, she’d take you on little dates where she’d buy you lunch after a hard week of school to make it less stressful and she’d clean your room so you could have a better environment to work at.
She truly was one of the best people in your life that you adored a lot, your stepmom was as sweet as her, you were grateful for both and grateful that your dad found great people to bring into your lives.
You don’t know the twisted truth about this, the not so sweet or innocent reality why she’s doing all of this.
She has had her eyes on you from the very first time she laid her eyes on you. She found the sexiest fucking woman on this earth.
Something about your gorgeous body, that anyone would kill for and your mesmerizing features was something anyone would wish to have.
She wanted to fucking ruin you, because how dare someone be this perfect. Ruin and show you things you’d never think your own step sister would do to you.
Get you a dumb cockwhore for her dick and ruin that little virgin hole of yours, stuff you full of her babies and take your whole innocence away.
She brought you her fresh orange juice, that you didn’t take a lot of time to down. The sudden urge for your lids to shut and your brain to become all numb was something you couldn’t fight.
And suddenly you were softly breathing, chest inhaling and exhaling softly and peacefully while your eyes tightly shut, and body in a deep slumber.
She peeked her head from the little gap in the door, seeing you in the deep sleep you were in. She smirked to herself her plan working successfully.
She tip toed in, closing the door behind her and twisting the lock. She gave a wide grin at the sight in front of her, your tiny little fragile body laying there helplessly, your cute hello kitty shorts riding up your thighs, your white v-line top hugging your breast and waist perfectly, your soft mounds almost spilling out from the top.
See you begged her to do this! She undressed herself, dick finally getting freedom. Her aching tip that’s spilling precum and her length that is uncontrollably upward. She hissed in pain, her finger smearing the precum all over her cock.
She hovered over you, your plush thighs right below the head of her cock. She let her desires win, and thrusted her cock right between your pillowy thighs, a loud moan falling from her lips.
She continued the action, now grabbing the sides of your thighs to push them tighter against her aching dick. Lewd sounds coming from her lips, and the area of your inner thighs turning a pinkish color from her relentless thrust. She stopped quickly as soon as she felt her cum ready to spill from her tip. If she was going to cum, it will be inside your virgin cunt.
Your hello kitty shorts were now on the floor next to your white top. Your bare body under her mercy. Your nipples hardening at the sudden cold air, she swirled her tongue against one of them before moving to the other. Sucking you like a baby. She promised to herself that at the end of the night she will make sure that those plushy tits will be full of milk that she can suck.
Her angry red tip found its way to your swollen cunt, pushing its way past your folds. Your pussy swallowing her length and squeezing it. A groan left her lips, her head falling back at the sensation and her eyes giving a peek at her brain.
You let out a soft whimper that only made her dick twitch inside you, more precum gushing out. Even when you’re asleep you made the cutest sounds. Her tip pushed out of your cunt before slamming back in. She couldn’t contain herself and be gentle, the head of her cock meeting your opening with harsh thrust. She continued the abuse of her cock and the knot in her stomach started building up.
Her balls were slapping against your ass, begging to release. The idea of getting her sweet step-sissy pregnant with her child and forcing you to be stuck with her for the rest of your life, made her white thick liquid paint your walls full to the point that it spilled out with a mix of your blood.
She kissed the top of your head before whispering the dirtiest little things that she was going to do to you, her step sis that will be pregnant with her kid.🫣
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unholyhelbig · 4 days
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I have a request as I see they are open! I enjoyed the last Oversight AU! Could I request a one shot of Kate’s imitation / first meeting with Natasha? And maybe go into the specifics of the Eli situation? I love to see the badass protective side of Natasha!
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Title: Dig Your Own Shallow Grave [An Oversight Oneshot]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff (Technically, this is one part of a bigger story)
Summary: Kate Bishop is known as the ex-heiress that was welcomed into Natasha's fold long before you. You learn pieces about her everyday, but never the full story. Not until today.
Warnings(PLEASE READ): physical violence, handcuffs, thunderstorms, threats, mentions of death, mentions of jail, incarceration, cheating, toxic relationship dynamic, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, horrible grammar
[a/n: This one is different! I don't know anything about the Elijah that's portrayed in the MCU, just the Young Avengers Eli and I can't stand the dude.]
Check out the full Oversight universe
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven
The large leaden handcuffs seemed like an unnecessary and overzealous precaution to Natasha Romanoff. They rattled as if the young girl was nothing more than a ghost of Christmas past. They were sinched at her waist, both hands balled into fists until her knuckles were a sickly shade of white.
There was red around her eyes, making a charcoal gray hiss into something muddy and sad. There was a flash of confusion and then disgust that fell over her features when she caught a glimpse of herself in the large two-way mirror that stood parallel.
Natasha turned in her seat, made eye contact with the guard. They had a silent understanding. The cameras that were situated at the corners of the room had been shut off- technical difficulties, they would say.
She collapsed into the chair adjacent to Natasha, never taking her eyes away from the only other distraction in the room. The chain connecting her cuffs were bolted to a hook in the table, but her feet were left free. Unless she was an Olympic swimmer, which she wasn’t, that would be no problem.
The guard nodded before he left them in the room and locked the door behind him. The mechanism in the metal door was loud and sighed with age when turned. The light above them swung back and forth within its cage. A circle of yellow enveloped them both.
Her hair was unkempt, nearly feral. They must have kept her separate from the other prisoners but that didn’t ease her tossing and turning under the fluorescent lights. Natasha had been in holding cells, she’d been stripped of her clothes for testing, and her dignity for much less. Something inside of her broke for this girl. This heiress.
“Who are you?”
It was clear that her voice had gone unused for at least a day, maybe more. She shivered and shrunk into herself at the sound of it. Natasha’s features softened ,that break in her soul cracking just a little further. Her file said she was twenty-two, but the girl in front of her was nothing more than a scared child.
“The woman who is getting you out of here.”
“Please don’t talk in riddles,” She moved to press her fingers against her temples. Her hands were pulled back viciously by her binds. “That’s all my mother does. Did. She talks in circles until I’m too confused to find the start.”
“I suppose that’s fair. You’re Eleanors daughter. Katherine?”
“Kate, but yeah. I’m her daughter.”
It was said with so much bitterness. They weren’t being held at the same facility. Kate was in a deep blue shirt made out of something that was less like fabric and more like paper. She wore the pants to match, her clothes being tested for gunpowder residue.
Eleanor was in a large brick jail in an orange jumpsuit. Natasha had considered going to her but found much more interest in her daughter; the one brave enough to stand up against Wilson Fisk and his incredible size. Bishop took King and destroyed a good amount of property in her district in the process. She’d have to pay thousands to get the folded storefront fixed.
“My name is Natasha Romanoff.”
The sentence was simple and conjured fear. She could see the look in Kate’s face. The girl threw her back against the metal chair, and it screeched from the force. “Why are you here?”
“You smashed my window, and a few displays, and I’m pretty sure you set off an explosive.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“With what, Kate?”
She paled at this. It was apparent that not only had her assets been frozen, but her mother’s as well. They barely had enough to cover legal fees, much less cosmetics that suffered the aftershock of the blow. She sighed and stared at the cold metal table. It was too scratched to show her reflection.
“I didn’t come here to make you feel bad, Kate. Calling law enforcement on your own mother is a ballsy thing to do. It also makes you a snitch. If you get charged, if you get locked up, it’s not something you’ll make it out of.”
“I know that.” She whipped her head up, eyes hard with anger. They softened after just a moment, to something scared. “I know.”
A silence fell over them both, one that Natasha let settle heavily on her chest. Kate was a spitfire, she was a spoiled girl who had a moment of clarity and turned her mother into law enforcement. She was regretting that now, shivering into herself, having to wait until after the holidays until anything could move from the stone it was trapped in.
Natasha had influence with the guards, and with the chief of police in this district. They had an understanding, and she fully intended to walk out of here with Kate Bishop under her wing. Not for free, of course. Natasha was charitable, but even her good deeds stretched so far.
“I’ve already paid your bail and they’re more than happy to release you into my custody.”
She scoffed “Your custody? I’m an adult.”
“You might be an adult, but you’re one without money, without a home, and I’m guessing everyone that’s still alive and free in your life isn’t too keen on taking you in.”
“Fuck you.”
“Okay,” Natasha said in a breath, staring hard at the girl across from her. She looked so washed out under the harsh lights of the room. Despite her anger, her poisonous words, she reminded Natasha of a dog that broke free from her leash and had almost too much freedom to handle.
The woman stood, her chair sliding elegantly compared to the horrid noise that Kate’s had produced. Natasha moved to pull on her coat, covering the deceivingly hard muscles in her arms. Kate had pretended not to stare; but it was fruitless. All she could think about was what those hands had done, what they could do.
Of course, she felt some veil of safety with the cameras being here. Surely, someone would come in and pull Natasha back the second she started to advance on her, if she started to advance. The distance between them was closed and she sat on the edge of the table. Kate pushed herself flat against the back of the chair.
 Natasha didn’t do well with being told ‘no’. She also didn’t do well with expletives directed towards her instead of because of her. Natasha’s slender hand wrapped around the cold chain attached to Kate’s wrists, she pulled forward and Kate’s sore ribs collided with the edge of the table. She let out a dissatisfied grunt.
She grabbed the back of Kate’s head and slammed her cheek against the cold surface with a dull thud. Natasha didn’t’ let up on her weight, instead, she held her in the perfect position to maintain control.
“Here’s how this is going to work,” Natasha knelt down, making eye contact with Kate. She pushed against the hold, but Natasha had the leverage. Kate flexed her fingers, still in chains. “You destroyed my storefront, and while I toyed with the idea of killing you for that alone, you’ve impressed me.”
“I’ve impressed you?”
Her words were smushed, drool pooling from her lips. It was almost comical, but Natasha pushed harder on the back of her neck, making her cry out. “I’m talking. When I’m talking, you’re not.”
She was met with silence and figured that was as good as she was going to get with this one. Her spit-fire reminded her a bit of Clint when he was younger. It made Natasha gravitate towards him, but this girl had a lot more to learn than her closest friend.
“You’re a spoiled little brat who crumbled one of the oldest clocktowers in the city. The habit didn’t’ seem to improve when your mother cut off your credit cards and that’s a dangerous thing. Getting the shit kicked out of you in jail might serve you well. So, by all means, you can try your luck, or you can follow me out of here so I can correct your behavior.”
Kate swallowed hard, but she didn’t’ say anything. Natasha’s first lesson seemed to be sinking in. After a few moments, she released the girl who sprang up like a jack in the box. She was giving Natasha the same look that she was used to, one of absolute fear. Her face was red and when she moved to wipe her chin of drool, she was stopped once again by her chains.
Natasha took pity on her, for just a moment, and used her thumb to ebb away the line of spit. Kate knew better than to pull back, instead she looked up at Natasha like a kicked puppy, making a small noise in the back of her throat.
“Anyone who stands up to Wilson Fisk is too valuable to kill for some property damage. But let me be clear, Kate, this is not a get-out of jail free card. You work for me. You belong to me. And we’re going to fix that attitude of yours.”
He had moved to the city during Kate’s senior year and wasn’t much for talking. Eli Bradley was as mysterious as they came. He was lanky and had deep brown eyes that were so dark they were nearly black in color. Eli wore a gold hoop in one ear, and while Kate would usually find something like that off-putting, it worked on Eli.
She played cello in the orchestra, first chair with pride, and he was modest with a viola. She made a point to make eye contact with him at least once a day, and eventually he started to return her small smiles. She thought the subtle way his lip quirked up at the corner was nothing but endearing.
In early October of that year, when the air was still crisp but not exactly cold, Kate had sat in the courtyard until the sun threatened to dip behind the horizon. She was avoiding going home to get ready for a party her mother was hosting and had worked it out so she could take the last bus uptown.
“Isn’t it a little dangerous for a pretty girl like you to be out here all alone? It’s getting dark.”
Kate frowned, but quickly retracted the expression when she made out the form of Eli Bradley and the silhouette of his viola case. It hung at his side like a briefcase filled with important papers. Instead, she hiked herself forward and leaned her elbows against her knees. He’d never spoken to her before.
“I’m a 9th degree red belt in Jiu Jitsu, and I have pepper spray. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Impressive,” Eli grinned “I guess it would be pointless to walk you home then, Kate Bishop.”
“I think I can make an exception, Eli Bradley.”
Kate did find herself making exceptions for Eli Bradley over the next few months. She would let him order for her, even if she didn’t find the dish he chose at all appetizing. She had to gently remind him that she was, in fact, allergic to shellfish and if she ate the pasta he insisted on she’d need an epi-pen.
He made up for it by being a gentleman and opening the car door for her when they pulled up to said restaurant.
Kate stepped behind Eli one winter evening when it was the type of dark outside that breeds bad behavior. A woman in a hoodie stepped out from an alleyway, twitching and with a wild look in her eyes. Kate could have easily disarmed her, could have gotten her someplace warm. Eli had delivered a hit to the stomach and pulled Kate along. It was a blur. But she’d never felt fear- just regret.
He made up for it by holding her tight that night, his warmth and sturdiness eventually lulled her to sleep and convinced her that maybe she could live with herself. Maybe she could live with Eli.
Clint Barton glowered at her over his bowl of cereal. Natasha didn’t know if it was some sort of interrogation technique, but it even made her uncomfortable. It was much too early in the morning and Kate’s wrists were still an ugly purple from how tight her cuffs had been. Natasha may have pulled a bit too hard, aggravating the already raw area.
“Your cheerios are going to get soggy,” Yelena entered the kitchen in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, scratching the exposed skin of her stomach with a stifled yawn. She stopped for just a moment to regard Kate, who sat up with a rim-rod quickness. “You always dump them down the sink and it makes the drain smell.”
Clint looked towards Natasha for help. She shrugged, adjusting the reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. She had pulled the paper in this morning and was very careful to remove the front page story of Kate’s mother and her set trial date. She may be cruel in some aspects, but psychological torture was Yelena’s department.
“Who is this?” Yelena asked, voice muffled by the chill of the refrigerator.
“This is Kate. She’ll be here for a while, and if she behaves well enough, she’ll be here longer than that. I expect both of you to regard her well and teach her everything you know.” Natasha took a sip of her steaming black coffee. “Hand to hand combat should not be an issue, isn’t that right, Kate?”
Kate waited a moment, remembering the sting of the table against her cheek. Natasha had asked her a question so it was okay to answer, right? It must be. She had a tendency to not stop talking once she started but it was clear from the prying eyes in the room that she was expected to reply.
“Yes,” She found her voice easier than she had in the jail. “I’m advanced in Jiu Jitsu, hand-to-hand combat, fencing, sword fighting, archery, kick-boxing. Once I used a set of staves from this really nice woman named Bobbi…”
She trailed off when she realized Clint had stopped fishing for the last cheerio and Yelena had cracked open a bottle of juice like she was snapping the neck of a small animal. Her cheeks turned a bright pink, and she averted her gaze.
Natasha smiled softly and took another long sip of her drink. The blonde woman, the one with the chiseled jaw and the striking green eyes, let out a hum. Her stare raked up and down Kate’s form, even while she was shrinking into herself.
“I will train her.”
“That’s not an option, Yel. I want to utilize her, not kill her.”
Kate’s head shot up at the word. She caught Clint’s stare, and he gave her a dejected shrug before pushing the little life-raft of a cheerio under the milk once more. He had no interest in eating it, just drowning it.
Yelena was smiling wolfishly, lilting her head to the side like it was the most innocent thing in the world. “Kill her? Sister, I would never. She’s clearly an asset. If you let Clint train her then she’ll be regressing.”
Kate watched the tension bounce back and forth between the two like a sadistic game of ping-pong. Yelena had just hit the little orange ball with enough force and trajectory to burn a hole directly through Natasha’s paddle.
She’d never dream of pushing Natasha in the slightest, much-less the way that Yelena did right now. Her body language was relaxed and quiet. The two of them stared at each other, and the newspaper was folded, discarded in favor of the stand-off.
“I will not kill her,” Yelena reassured, yet somehow, Kate hadn’t been assured the first time, nor the second time. “Give me a chance.”
Susan Bishop had a harder stare than Eleanor. She had inherited it from her, Kate was sure, but knew how to work it like a double-edged blade. Rarely would she look at Kate. Even rarer so was the two of them being in the same place for more than six minutes at a time.
Kate had her eyes downcast, pretending to read the same paragraph of the same book over and over again. Once she felt the sharp stare of her older sister on the side of her face, it shown brighter than the sun above them.
She’d been stretched out on a poolside chair, just enjoying the pungent scent of chlorine and the occasional low hum of a car passing their large home. It was too chilly for her to actually swim, but she had a fuchsia bathing suit under her long-sleeve shirt and jeans nonetheless.
Susan had settled into the seat next to her and let out a deep sigh as she typed quickly on her cellphone. Kate had cast her a sidelong glance, but quickly pretended to lose interest. They were going back and forth like this for a long, pregnant moment.
Eventually, Susan sighed and softly closed the book in Kate’s hand, not regarding the page that she was on. Kate didn’t mind much. Her older sister never did anything softly. Kate’s heart thrummed in her chest when their eyes met.
“Hi?” Kate cautioned.
“Hi. We need to talk.”
“What do you want?” There wasn’t anything Kate had that Susan didn’t. Hell- she could ask Eleanor for anything and would instantly get it. There were no rules for the eldest, responsible, child. All of that strangling focus was on Kate.
“I don’t want anything. I just want to talk. Sister to sister.”
“Right… sister to sister.”
“You need to break up with Eli.”
The statement through Kate back. It was like Susan had kicked her directly in the diaphragm. The oxygen in her lungs deflated and she stared at her sister in disbelief. Then in startled rage. What did right did Susan have to meddle in her relationship like this?
Kate wanted to tell her just that, but nothing came out except for the last squeeze of air that could be interpreted as a noise of discontent, but Susan never was good at reading signals and Kate needed a fleeting second to catch her train of thought after it had been so violently derailed.
“I get the appeal of the student athlete, I’ve had plenty of them myself, but Eli is not the man for you. You can do better.”
“Seriously? Is this mom speaking or you?”
“This is all me, sweetie.” She didn’t’ say it in a condescending way. In fact- Susan actually reached out and gently touched Kate’s bare arm. She tensed under her, but the hand wasn’t removed. Not even when dark grey eyes looked at her incredulously. “I don’t like the way he changes you.”
“Changes me? You think Eli changes me?”
“I think he makes you shrink and Bishop women are never meant to shrink.”
“That’s all mom has ever done.” Kate bit back venomously.
“Wrong. Mother has full control over Father, she just makes him think that he doesn’t. She’s the decision maker and if she has to keep a hand on his shoulder to do that, then so be it. The world listens to men, and looks at women. It’s how society is. But Eli? He’s binding your hands, not taking them.”
Kate shoved Susan’s hand from her arm and placed both feet on the ground. She didn’t have to listen to this… this practical stranger. Susan didn’t’ know what she was talking about, and neither did Eleanor. They were both ignorant to the way she felt about Eli and the way Eli felt about her. He wanted to the best for her.
Sometimes- she just had to remind him that she was allergic to shellfish.
“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.” She gritted before standing. She disregarded her book, not that interested anyway, and began walking to the patio doors. Tears had started to sting her eyes. First out of sadness, and then maybe a mix of malice.
“He’s cheating on you.”
Susan said it so softly that could pretend she hadn’t heard it. The water filter for the pool was loud enough to drown out the statement. But she’d stopped with one foot on the bottom step of the patio and the other planted firmly on solid cement. Her nails dug stinging half-crescents into palm.
“You’re wrong.”
“Ask him.”
“I won’t,” She turned, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Because I trust Eli. Maybe you could grant the same to me.”
Her childhood home held onto the darkness like a vice. A place that was once so maintained and bright was past falling into lawn decay. The pristine shrubbery had springing curls of foliage and the grass hadn’t been painted like her father insisted upon each year.
The structure stood strong, only a few months and some change abandoned. A small strip of tape on the mahogany door was the only indication that this had been an active crime scene at one point. The FBI had taped an order against it before they shattered the wood with a battering ram and raided the home.
Kate hadn’t been back since. She’d been living out of her Aunt Mira’s apartment and wearing her eccentric clothing. But the elder woman would be back soon and eventually she would need to get her own belongings back. If she didn’t, then squatters would when they realized just how vacant the home really was.
Yelena let out a low whistle as she peered up at the home, as if they didn’t live in one with the same amount of wealth. Even the tone she produced sent shivers down Kate’s spine. It had been four months since that day in the precinct.
Each day was spent from dawn to dusk in Yelena’s presence, and it never became easier for Kate. She was a bumbling and incompetent mess around the woman but had grown some kind of comfort in her presence. Kate no longer believed she was in danger at her hand specifically.
That didn’t’ mean that her body didn’t ache from the constant hell that Yelena had been putting her through to put her in ‘the peak performance state- Kate Bishop’. Yelena only said her first name and barked it at her if her pace lessened on one of their multiple-mile runs, or grueling weight training sessions.
Kate didn’t want to admit that she was entranced by the tone of Yelena’s muscles. She chalked it up to admiration, because that’s all it was. Admiration. And a bit of resentment. But Kate’s chest puffed out proudly when she noticed the way her own body began to change under Yelena’s tutelage. Enough that she was ready to go back to her old home for some closure, for some clothes.
Natasha shoved her keys into her pocket and fell in line on Kate’s right side. She peered up at the expertly crafted wood. It had begun to chip. Kate thought that was ironic; it had always been so pristine, but the more she thought about it, she’d often duck under a ladder to step into the foyer.
Bad luck all around, and a simple patch job that would crumble if not properly cared for.
“We can just buy you new clothes,” Natasha urged in that flittingly careful way that made Kate know she really did give a damn, but not if you asked. “You don’t have to go in there.”
“And add to the debt I already owe you for busting me out of jail?”
“I think she has to do this.” Yelena said firmly.
She was right. Kate had to do this. She was always handed everything in life so easily and it made her reckless, but far from undisciplined. It just took Natasha slamming her face against the cold metal of an unclean table for her to get some sense knocked back into her.
Kate had called the police on her mother. She’d done it after the knowledge of crimes committed festered and grew in her mind. It bred resentment in her mind until she came face to face with the fact that she wasn’t putting her mom away, she was putting a monster away.
Stepping through these doors would humanize her and it would cut Kate deep enough to draw blood. But then, she felt Yelena’s fingers on the small of her back. A light touch that was telling Kate that she wasn’t as alone as she thought she was.
The door let out a whine of protest when she pushed it open. They were met with a stale scent and a soft glow that ruminated from what Kate knew best as the living area. There was a grand piano that was mostly untouched, and large oak bookshelves that had multiple editions of old encyclopedias bound in leather.
She and Susan used to flip through them and try to pronounce the words by phonic spelling. They’d trace their little fingers over the inked illustrations and giggle if they had found something even remotely obscene. She remembers the word ‘Dam’ making them laugh until they couldn’t breathe.
Natasha’s hand darted out and pressed against Kate’s mid-section. Her other one grabbed the gun from the back of her pants. She shot the girl a sideways glance. “You left that on?” she mouthed.
Kate shook her head, her fingers itching for her own weapon. She didn’t have one. While Kate was an expert at professional archery and her aim wasn’t in question by anyone in the room- her familiarity with handguns with the serial number scratched off was minute. Yelena had pulled her own weapon, jaw firm.
Maybe squatters had broken in, and if they had, she’d gladly allow them to have the place. She just needed to stuff a duffel bag full of items and the small sentimental necklace she had gotten from her father as a child, and then she would be on her merry way.
Natasha stepped around the corner and raised her gun, screaming something that was drowned out by the startled yells of another. Kate recognized that yell, that rasp. She frowned, letting the tension in her shoulders drop before she got a good look at the living room herself.
It was incredibly lived in and lit by a single lamp that had it’s shade discarded. It was blinding and left spots in her eyes, but not enough to disregard the box of white sticky rice that had spilled all over the floor like maggots.
There was a makeshift bed on the couch and a few of those encyclopedias strewn about as if they were bedtime reading. In the center of it all; Eli Bradley with his hands up and a fork between his lips. His mouth dropped open and it fell to the floor with a dull thud.
He was shirtless, in a pair of boxers that Kate was pretty sure was her fathers. She was thankful she hadn’t eaten before this because the simple fact was enough to make her gag.
“Elijah?” She exclaimed.
“You know this guy?” Yelena asked, voice tight. She lowered her weapon, but Natasha kept hers in the same position it was before, trained right at his genitals and ready to shoot at a moments notice.
Kate wished with her entire body that she didn’t. His boxers held his athletic thighs, his deep brown eyes flashing to the guns aimed at him. Yelena was never a patient woman but somehow, in this moment, Kate knew deep down that she would be patient here. Her mouth was dry and her throat like sandpaper. It was incredibly hard to swallow.
“I’m her boyfriend.” Eli sounded out, his fingers twitching “I have a key.”
Yelena looked at Kate with pleading eyes, to which she received a nod in return. Kate supposed she hadn’t officially broken up with the man in front of her. The aimed weapons were lowered to the floor, but Natasha kept her hold. One false move and she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his bare foot.
“Yel, idi soberi yey sumku.”
Kate didn’t understand a lick of Russian, but she knew that Natasha’s tone was not to be questioned. Yelena holstered her weapon and slinked up the stairs. She’d be able to guess which room was Kate’s. The trophies and medals and photos tacked up to bulletin boards. It was the only room Kate was allowed to personalize, and even then, it was meant to be spotless.
Natasha must have caught onto the tension in Kate’s stance. She shoved her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunched and eyes submissive. It wasn’t something she wanted to see in her young trainee.
It wasn’t at all the woman that sat across from her in an interrogation room. Not even with her face her neck in Natasha’s grip. Something was wrong, and it was something stronger than Kate being back in her childhood home. That warranted sadness. But compliance? Absolutely not.
“Katie, baby. Who is this?” Eli asked. “Come on, you can tell me.”
When Kate opened her mouth to speak, Natasha held up a hand, instantly silencing her. The woman lilted her head to the side, unripe eyes taking in the scene in front of her; the discarded take-out containers, the balled-up socks in the corner of the room. The rain that had begun to pound against the roof and slather itself across windowpanes.
Natasha’s voice came out as a snarl “I’d love to introduce myself, but first, could you ask your little friend to come out from behind the curtains?”
Kate’s stare hardened and she whipped her head up accusingly. Still, she didn’t say a word. The wine-red Versailles fabric shifted; the view blocked by the grand piano but not enough for Natasha to ignore. Kate’s mother had spent hours looking over Swatches that would fit the room, and eventually chose the option that brought the room into a gothic elegance.
Kate didn’t need to wait to know who it was. Cassie Lang. Best friend, confidant, and exactly who Kate caught in bed with Elijah weeks before. But this was different. This was her home. It had already been violated by law enforcement. Torn apart just for two of her friends, people she trusted and loved, to take advantage of its vacancy.
“That’s better,” Natasha purred. Cassie was shaking because of the cold, wearing only a silk robe that belonged to Kate’s sister. “Now, let’s all have a chat.”
 “Kate, Katie, it’s not what it looks like. Just… tell your friends to leave and I’ll explain everything.”
Eli attempted to step towards her, hands no longer raised in caution but reaching towards Kate. Natasha felt a surge of anger lick against her skin. She stepped between them, splaying her hand out on his chest before shoving him recklessly onto the center of the couch.
He sprung back onto his feet, voice dripping in venom “Back off lady! I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend here!”
Natasha let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest before turning her gaze to Kate. Something about this situation was juvenile, but so important. Though she only had the girl under her care for a few weeks now, she felt nothing but warmth towards her.
She’d mislabeled her as a rich, undisciplined trust fund baby. Natasha didn’t’ often admit her mistakes but that had been one that weighed heavily on her. Sure, Katherine Bishop had a bit of an incorrigible sass to her, but it wasn’t unwarranted. Her boasting was backed up by actions true to her words. Strong, determined, actions.
Natasha hated how she was shrinking. Hated how this man had chipped away at her until she was hugging her mid-section to stop the thrumming pain of betrayal. She couldn’t’ find the words, they were lodged in her throat. There was the strong suspicion that if she hadn’t sent Yelena away, they’d be scrubbing blood from an imported carpet.
Something tole Natasha that Kate never got a choice in this relationship, and she wasn’t about to continue the toxic pattern that had led to her demure state.
 “Ketrin,” Natasha’s voice was soaked with her native tongue “Would you like me to take care of this?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again, almost like a fish. Words escaped her. Natasha’s soft exhale brought her back to the room. Everything was fuzzy around the edges and reminded her of the first time she had pushed herself too hard in competition. She never lost consciousness but came close to it.
Yelena had successfully pilfered a duffel bag, having removed the sabers that resided there and filled it with whatever clothes she could find. Kate felt her stomach flip at the naive idea that the Russian woman had gone through her underwear drawer.
She flicked her eyes back to Eli, his chest heaving up and down as he eyed the gun still in Natasha’s grasp. Cassie was still like a statue, rubbing her palms on the silk fabric of her robe. She had the decency to look guilty.
“Take care of it.”
The words were barely more than a hurt whisper. She didn’t trust herself right now, not with the sharp pain that coursed through her veins. Tears had stung her eyes in the back of the detective’s car, but she didn’t know if that was on account of Eli or Eleanor.
Kate silently excused herself as the silence that settled over the room became thicker, palpable. Yelena’s deep stare was on Kate in a way that made her squirm. But she remained at the head of the stairs, even stepping to the side when Kate began to trek to a room that had already been rifled through. There was an unspoken agreement. Natasha would take care of it.
 “What’s your name?” she asked, directing the question towards the girl.
“Cassie.” Elijah answered.
Natasha held her hand up to him again, fingers barely ghosting his shoulder. He shivered at the near touch but snapped his mouth shut. “I wasn’t asking you. I was asking her. Sweetie?”
“It’s Cassie… Cassie Lang.”
“Okay, Cassie.” She kept her voice soft, cajoling. “I want you to go home and get some rest. And under no circumstance are you going to call law enforcement. I’ll be informed immediately if you do so. Do you understand?”
She nodded frantically, keeping her head down as she moved to smooth past Natasha. The woman grabbed her sleeve, holding her in place for just a moment. She was so close she could smell the sex on her, see the sweat against her brow and the fear in her stare.
“Sweetheart. I suggest you learn to keep better company.”
Cassie let out a squeak that almost bled into a whine before taking advantage of Natasha’s loose hold. She darted with a quickness unseen, the door slamming behind her, the roar of the rain hissing to a muffled stop.
“And you?”
“What about me?” Elijah asked in a nauseatingly confident way.  
Natasha let out a long sigh and studied him. Everything from the way he stood to the faux dog tags that hung against his chest bled fury. This was exactly the type of man that would attract someone like Kate with a level of badger-like charm before clamping his jaw down on her throat.
Thankfully, Kate’s mother had fantastic taste in artwork. A bronze Clyde Ball piece lingered by the entryway. While he was known for his extensive statue work and abstract designs, Natasha liked that he used a heavier metal, one with a base that was easily grasped.
With a sly swing of the hand she connected the corner of the object with Eli’s temple. A flash of blood instantly stained his skin and splayed against the floor when he collapsed. Natasha dropped the artwork next to him. She let out a hum, figuring that a Clyde Ball may be worth purchasing after all.  
His truck had kicked up a rut in the normally spotless lawn. Eli had barely missed the mailbox with his erratic driving- which was bold considering the amount of unmarked and marked police vehicles that encircled Kate’s property.
Kate was sitting on the front steps, the concrete cold and unwelcome against the small of her back. They’d handcuffed her and her fingers were numb. Still, she flexed them when the commotion caught her attention. They didn’t’ bother with police tape, but a man in a wrinkled suit stopped Eli.
It took her a few long moments to realize that Cassie was in the passenger seat of the truck. She made eye contact with Kate, a look of sorrow forcing her to glance away. She was wearing Eli’s lettered jacket and naively, Kate convinced herself for a fleeting moment it had something to do with the busted heating vents in the old vehicle.
She knew better.
She’d smelled Eli’s specific spicy brand of cologne and deodorant on Cassie the last time they embraced. His lips tasted of the bubblegum ChapStick that Cassie had worn everyday since the six grade when Kate landed on her during a game of spin the bottle. Admittedly, she felt more during that kiss than anything she’d ever shared with Eli.
Kate adjusted her shoulder against the hold of the cuffs. They were uncomfortable, digging into her wrists. Even if she wanted to break out of them, she couldn’t. She was a nervous fidgeter and Elijah was using some degree of charm to weasel his way past the officer blocking him. Just as he’d weaseled his way into Cassie’s pants.
“Oh my god, Katie.” He rushed out when he got to her, kneeling down on the damp sidewalk. It was unnaturally cold and they hadn’t let Kate pull on a jacket over the tank top she wore for her morning run. His hands ran down her thighs and squeezed her knees. “Fuck, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Kate’s stare brushed past Elijah blankly and to the fogging up window of his truck. If Cassie hadn’t already been wearing his jacket, she was sure he’d offer it to her, an offer she would vehemently deny. All of his charm, his commanding power, had been washed away with her mothers as she ducked her head and settled into the back of a squad car. One that probably had heat.
“Jesus, I heard that this place was swarming with cops. What did you do?”
“What did you?”
“I don’t… Katie, babe, come on.” He glanced back at the car and when he turned to face Kate once more, their eyes locked. He didn’t’ need to say anything and neither did she. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Kate felt the warmth of Detective Brigid O’Reilly behind her. She wasn’t a stranger to Kate, but she acted like one when she tightened the cuffs around her wrists. Temporary informant or not, Kate was still a Bishop and they weren’t trusted in this town.
“Miss Bishop. It’s time to go.”
Her forearm was gripped and she was pulled to her feet with a grunt. Her legs were numb, needles rushing through them. Part of her was grateful for being dragged away. The other part was terrified, sad, hurt and angry. They’d all betrayed her.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Fifteenth precinct. Don’t waste your breath, kid. She’ll be indisposed for a few hours. Take your little girlfriend home.”
He winced at the detective’s words and averted his stare to the ground. Kate let herself get let to the unmarked Lincoln town car. At least she’d save the humiliation as the whole lights and sirens routine.  
Most of the time, they didn’t wake up screaming, but Elijah did. His senses were overwhelmed, and his body instantly registered the cold and the slickness of muck beneath him. Even over the brutal beating of falling rain, he could hear the cars that swept past on the highway.
His head was pounding, and the headlights of vehicles passing over the highpoint of evergreens only served as something more disorienting. It was only when a crack of lightening flashed across the sky did he notice the woman standing over him, a shovel slung over her shoulder.
So, he screamed, and he swore she smiled at the sound.
He turned over on his stomach and coughed into the mud, his toes not finding purchase in the mud. Natasha’s boot came down on the center of his back and he found himself sprawling, tasting a mix of metal and dirt. He realized that he underestimated the situation Kate had gotten herself into.
“Good morning, Elijah.” She crowed, dropping the shovel next to his face, barely missing his brow. He flinched and shrunk into himself. “I have a job for you.”
She used the tip of her shoe to flip him over onto his back. The falling rain that had gotten through the pine needles above him hit his face in a cooling effect. He saw another set of headlights, eyes darting towards the road. Maybe if he yelled loud enough, all of this would be over.
“I need you to dig a hole.”
“What?” He panted out, his breath leaking out in puffs of condensation. “a hole?”
“Mm, glad I didn’t rupture an eardrum. It needs to be a big hole. How tall are you?”
“I don’t… What?”
Natasha knelt next to him, a sadistic smile falling from her lips. Instead, it was replaced with something darker. Almost as if a flip was switched. Her deep red hair was adhered to her forehead from the rain, her jaw clenched and unclenched.
“I don’t know you, Elijah. But, I know Kate and that girl has been through hell and back. She’s guarded and hides behind her humor to deflect the pain that she’s experiencing. And to me… it seems like you’re a big catalyst here.”
His breathing had become shuddered. Natasha grabbed the shovel before standing and delivering a swift kick to his side. His ribs instantly ached and a cry escaped him. She wanted him to right himself and to safe another deadly spark of pain, he complied.
She had, in fact, started a small divot where she expected him to dig. Tears were running down his face, small sobs muffled by his determination to put on a front. She didn’t’ find any admiration in his sniveling. Instead, she let him scoop out three frothy loads of dirt before she continued, circling like a lion.
His hands had started to bleed.
“She believed in you enough to trust you and you turn around and fuck her best friend?” Natasha got close, yelled over the rain. He stuttered in his movements, clenched his eyes shut. “Don’t stop digging! Was she not enough for you?”
Elijah stuck the tip of the shovel back into the soup of rainwater and mud. It was a black slush at this point, something he could drown in if he laid facedown for long enough. “She was… she was.”
“Then why did you do it, huh? You took everything she was and whittled her down to nothing before discarding her for someone else you could break. Is that it? Did that make you feel more like a man?”
He didn’t’ respond, instead, moving another round of slop to the side of a hole that was starting to look more and more like a grave. He was up to his knees in cold, unforgiving water. His toes flexed in the icy earth.
“Answer me!” She yelled with enough anger to split earth. However, Natasha didn’t give him the chance. She dug her nails into the back of his neck and shoved him forward into the muck. He could taste dirt, words bubbling.
Elijah groaned and brought himself to his knees. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding in his throat. He was crying loudly now, sitting back on his heels. Natasha was above him, standing on the edge of the grave he had just dug. Headlights flashed over her cold stare.
“If you’re feeling helpless, Elijah, so was she. Kate needed you, and you weren’t there for her. She was suffocating, and everyone could see it, but you kept her just out of reach, didn’t you?”
“Yes! Yes,” He groaned out, digging his fingers into the soft earth. “Fuck, yes. I hurt her, I know that.”
“Lay down.”
“What?” His voice broke.
“You’re going to lay here until morning.” She knelt down “You’re not going to move a muscle.”
“I’ll drown,”
“You might.” She growled, taking account of the heaviness of the rain, the way the tires of passing vehicles sloshed around in the collected puddles. “But at least you’d understand how Kate felt.”
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deepperplexity · 11 months
Text
Don't Be Shy
Title: Don't Be Shy
Pairing: Young!Snape x Young!Fem!Reader (ALL CHARACTERS OF AGE!)
POV: Third, Snape
Setting: Severus’s dorms, End of Seventh Year.
Theme: Drunken shenanigans with smutty goodness and praise 🖤
Inspired by: THIS fanart of Young!Snape by @simper-maximus who gave me permission to write a fanfic for it 🥰
A/N: So, hello there, it’s been a hot minute - hasn’t it? 👀🙈
As some of you know my life is CRAZY atm, not only with work but we’re moving and all that goodness as well so I’ve been inactive for a while here even if I’ve done my best to log on and try to add to our lovely community.
However, I saw this fanart of our young Snape yesterday (do check the post linked above and give it some love) and just felt inspired. So here’s a little smutty goodness of our beloved Snape at an age I rarely write - you know me loves, I want our dungeon bat on the more mature side but this young Snape just made my fingers itch. I hope you’ll enjoy it 😘
ABBR.: Y/N - Your Name
Warnings: Ejaculation, Climaxing, Masturbation, Alcohol Consumption, Provocative Language/Actions, Slight Fluff, Slight Aftercare, Praise, Shame, Praise Kink, Inexperienced!Snape, Experienced!Reader, Confident!Reader, Kissing, Oral Sex, Stripping.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // Linktree
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The sound of Moon Rage filled the room, the band’s hypnotic tunes with its edgy female singer easily overpowered any other sound. Or, perhaps, he was simply drunk and couldn’t filter out the loud sound of the record player.
Why he’d accepted your request to meet up, why he’d allowed you to smuggle alcohol into his room, why he’d agreed to you locking the door while whispering about the others being at the unauthorized graduation party by the abandoned greenhouse and not returning for hours to come — well, he couldn’t answer any of the sluggish thoughts that sneaked through his usually overcrowded brain for a few seconds.
It was quite desolate at the moment though. Only one thought echoed through the haze of alcohol after the questions fizzled out, you. The way you danced between his bed and wardrobe at the furthest left side of the room. Your hips swayed, and your hands skimmed atop your clothes. Your skirt hitched up, your slightly too-small shirt revealing every single curve of your upper body and the dangling of your tie across your chest was as hypnotic as the music.
He couldn’t believe you were there. Singing about being touched, humming about feeling like you could breathe under the sensual caress described in the song. You were magnificent in the dim candlelight. And he was hard. His cheeks flushed. His hand squeezed the fabric of his robe spread out on the couch from where he had an uninterrupted view of you.
You spun around — a new song filling the room with an even more sensual beat — and he blushed deeper as you smiled at him. You seemed less affected by the alcohol, or you were a more experienced drinker. The entire situation was new to him. Everything about it was so wholly new on every level and he barely knew what to do with himself.
You swayed your hips as you moved closer, he tensed and you smirked. Your eyes were alight with something he could only describe as mirth. Mirth and warmth. He was warm all over too, his cock strained against his trousers and jerked as your eyes darted down to it. Embarrassment filled him as you watched his tented pants with the highly visual outline of his erection intently.
“Like what you see, Sev?” you asked with a purr to your voice he’d never heard you speak with before as you dragged your hands up along your thighs, hitching the hem of the skirt up along with the motion — baring your black knickers. You moved differently, showed a new side to you he hadn’t ever even imagined you had. You were so sweet, so pure, so gentle normally. How could he not have noticed this side of you that made his heart hammer and pound so harshly yet your control was also comforting — it baffled him but his body was alight and too strung up for him to think further on it.
His fingers squeezed the fabric within his hand harder, his heart drummed as he watched your fingers trail up along your sides while tugging up the shirt before you unbuttoned it. The black bra matching your knickers came into view as you dragged it off and threw it on his bed while his breath caught in his throat — nerves coiled within him but the alcohol wouldn’t allow him to panic.
Severus gulped while it felt as if his cheeks were on fire, his cock nearly ready to explode. No, don’t-, hold it, don’t— “Sev?” you asked, interrupting his frantic thoughts. “Don’t you like me? Don’t you like what you see?” you continued with a shy smile but your tone, it wasn’t uncertain or worried about his answer. You sounded confident, sounded perfectly aware of what he was thinking.
“I-, I do,” he confessed — his voice slightly pitched despite it having become much darker over the last two years — as you moved your hips in a figure-eight. The way your stomach moved along with that motion, how your breasts bounced ever so slightly, and how you smiled almost wickedly at him had him in a twist of want-corded tension and he had never experienced sensations as strong as he now did.
“Won’t you show me, Severus?” you asked as you undid the button and zipper of your skirt, shimmying out of it. He gulped and panted while his cock jerked and his balls drew up, his body begging for release.
He’d dreamt of your body. He’d jerked off in the shower with the fantasies of your touch and moans. You had overtaken every whim of his hormone-riddled body, for over a year. A year of torture watching you from afar, knowing he’d never have a chance with someone like you. Someone so perfect.
“Y/n, please…” he exhaled while his body began to tremble with the restraint of not coming. But you merely tilted your head while keeping up your seductive dancing. “Be good for me, Sev…” you said just loud enough to be heard over the music as you moved yet another step toward him. The gloomy dungeon-like room with its green and silvery shades felt too hot.
Your bare skin glistened with a slight perspiration, little beads of salty water glittering in the low light that his mind screamed of wanting to lick up. His cheeks turned hotter still, his hand moving up to his mouth to contain his tongue and the involuntary moan slipping out.
Your eyes moved down to his trousers again, your gaze focused wholly on the pulsing erection he couldn’t do anything about while he watched you with a mixture of shame, need, and pure horniness while he squeezed the robe tighter in his hand, pressing his hand to his mouth harder as he moaned again when you stroked your breasts through your bra. Don’t come, don’t come… By Merlin, she’s so beautiful…
“Don’t be shy, Sev…” you hummed as you unclasped your bra. “Be a mess for me, like I am for you…” you continued as your breasts were exposed and he gasped while you toyed with your pebbled nipples. He groaned and sank into the sofa further, straining in every manner possible. You threw your head back with a moan and he couldn’t hold back any longer.
The sweet moan you let out made him sag as his trousers were stained with his cum, bleeding through the fabric while he closed his eyes as little tears lined the edges of them. He was so embarrassed, so relieved, so turned on he didn’t know what to do with himself as his cock kept pulsing, squirting wave after wave of cum sticking to his cock, underwear, and trousers. How embarrassing… How do I ever look you— “You’re so beautiful like this, Sev. All messy and bothered, all flustered and so cute…” you said, again interrupting his thoughts while the last tremor left his body and his cock softened in the mess he’d made — that you’d made of him.
He jerked as your hands landed on his knees, making him open his eyes only to find you between his legs with the most beautiful look of satisfaction, with want and pride in your eyes as you looked up at him. The shame he’d felt a second ago vanished as your hands stroked up along the inside of his thighs with nothing but glazed hunger in those inviting eyes he’d often daydreamed of.
“You did so good, Sev. I’m so proud of you for holding out so long. Such a good boy,” you said with praise and reassurance in your voice that did things to him he couldn’t explain or understand. “I-, I’m a mess,” he said, feeling his heart race as your fingers began undoing the button of his trousers with a smirk as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “Just how I want you,” you whispered with that tone of praise again. “A mess for me, with that sweet look of surrender… Makes all my fantasies of you pale in comparison.”
He felt elated, assured, and wanted when you spoke to him like that. It was wholly new to him, new territory and unknown terrain. It felt good. He felt so good under your hands, viewing, words, and voice. He felt good, and hearing you fantasised about him as he did about you eased a little knot in his stomach.
But then your hands were pulling down his soiled trousers, tugging down the waistband of his underwear until his spent cock became visible and he had to look away from you. Embarrassed by the mess, triggered by the salty smell of his own cum as it wafted up. “Let me clean you up, sweetie,” you said and he jolted. Before he had time to ask what you had meant, your hand grabbed his cock gently and your lips encased the slack member a second later.
The heat of your mouth, the look of your head moving between his legs made his eyes widen and his body erupted in a shocked burning. His heart instantly thundered, his pulse roared in his ears as he watched you lick up his cum, sucking and licking his cock with tender care.
He jerked as your tongue swiped the crown. “Oh, you’re such a good boy,” you praised as he began to harden anew. “Y/n,” he panted as you encircled him again, “p-please,” he protested with need and confusion. He’d never been able to get hard right away after coming before. “Hush, sweetie, let me taste you,” you said softly before he felt the hand you’d had on his thigh disappear.
You moaned around him and he jerked within your mouth, throwing his head back as he stiffened. You began stroking at his root while your tongue teased and swirled around the tip. He tensed as pleasure soared through him in an entirely new way, his last climax still loomed over him.
He looked down at you, feeling hot beyond belief as he watched you suck his cock while pleasuring yourself — all while being between his legs, on your knees yet in control of everything. I’m dreaming, I’m drunk and dreaming, he tried to convince himself but the sensations were too real, too palpable, too perfect for his head to be able to conjure such a dream.
You panted around him, moaning and humming while he watched you work yourself up further. The entire room began spinning around him while his hands squeezed the robe beneath him, the music and sounds of you invading him, the feel of your touch overwhelmingly perfect, the smell of your arousal and his cum mixing and mingling in the air.
His hips jerked as you suckled him. He watched you hollow your cheeks and never before had pleasure erupted so violently within him. He moaned, feeling self-conscious about the way his body was jerking and tensing, how he was burning up and desperate for a second release but terrified he wouldn’t be able to despite how good you made him feel.
You moaned around him, your rhythm faltering while your hand tightened around his root. Your movements turned erratic — hasty and needy. His own breath hissed out between his teeth as he felt his balls draw up. “Come for me,” you moaned around his cock. “Be good for me,” you exhaled before sucking harder. “Please-, please I can’t—” His words were interrupted as you moaned and shook between his legs, climaxing hard while still sucking his cock with vigour.
The sight was beyond his understanding, beyond his brain’s capability to comprehend in its beauty and he came. Hard. Moaning loudly while spurting a single string of cum into your mouth while his lungs nearly froze up at the warmth exploding within him. “So good,” you said while removing your mouth but still gently stroking his cock through the pulsing. “You’re so good, Sev. Such a pretty sight, such a sweetie coming for me twice.”
The praise hit something within him he couldn’t touch, your words made him feel so good he could barely stand the sensation — so at odds with anything and everything he had ever felt. He wanted you to say such words to him again. He wanted to be good for you, make you praise him, make you look at him like you did in that exact moment. Sated and happy. You were so beautiful to him, so perfect, and he wanted to be touched by you over, and over, and over again.
“You’re mine now,” you said with a sweet smile, showing that side of you he’d fallen in love with while watching you from afar. “Y-yours?” he asked as a fresh blush crept over his skin, heating his chest and cheeks. You giggled and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Yes, mine. I want you, Sev.” “Yours…” he said in a quiet murmur, trying the word while you watched him expectantly. But it was hard for him to even imagine that what had just happened had, in fact, actually happened.
“Severus,” you began as you rose up fully on your knees, “I want you. And I know you want me, so I’m going to make you feel good enough to accept that. Okay?” you continued and his eyes widened but he nodded and you smiled that sweet smile he loved seeing your face marked by. Then your lips were pressed against his and he melted under the taste of him and you. He wanted you to make him believe you too, so he’d let you try…
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Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // Linktree
A/N: It’s almost 1 am as I finish writing this, I wrote it in one single sitting right after I got the artist’s permission to write a fic for their art and gosh… This became way longer than I had thought, and bit more “adult” than I’d planned at first but I blame that on me usually writing for older Snape and it’s the middle of the night atm 😂👍 But damn, this was fun and enjoyable to write. I hope you had a good time too, dear reader 🙈😘🖤
☕ Caffeinate me? ☕ 
Your support means the world to me and you will be helping me toward my goal of becoming a full-time author in the future! Currently, my goal is to get funds for a cover and editor and I'm at 89% - every cup of coffee helps me towards that goal! 💻🖊️✨
Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @morphineisouthoney @meteoritewolf69 @bionic-otp @elizabeth-baelish @romanceandsarcasm @severuslovebot @leah1243 @glowstar826 @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @impulse-anchor @commodoreseverus @writewithmarites @alisongurl13 @yan-senna @writewithmarites @reinekefoxart @nixislight @lokisbjchnl @smilingformoney
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k00sblogger · 12 days
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Heartbreak
Synopsis: The one where you get broken up with.
Genre: Smut+Angst
Warnings: Pussy eating, breast play, body worshipping?, fingering, overthinking oc, oc's mental health is kinda suckish, awkward tension, mentions of weight gain and physical appearance, time skips.
Pairing: Bf!Taehyung x fem!reader
a/n: "Hey alexa, play the other woman by lana del rey"
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
THREE MONTHS AGO..
I let out a whiny moan as taehyung's tounge swirls around my nipple, leaving behind marks and bruises as he switches from one boob to the other.
He keeps his eyes locked on mine as he rubs his thumb over my nipple, sitting up to cup my breasts in his hands. "So fucking pretty." he mumbles, placing a sloppy kiss on my lips.
The compliment makes me smile as he hooks his fingers under the band of my underwear so he can pull them down. The slight touch of his fingertips on my hips has my stomach doing cartwheels.
"Gonna make you feel so good." he mutters, rolling his thumb onto my clit, subtly moving it back and forth. I bite my lip to keep quiet, drawing a little bit of blood in the process.
As he kisses on the inside of my thighs, I realize how he's never failed to make me feel loved in these moments, to make me feel like i was the only girl who truly mattered.
His tounge dips between my folds, the feeling of the wet muscle between my legs could've made me cum on the spot. I stare up at the ceiling in pure pleasure, this was ecastasy.
"Love looking at your face while i eat you out." his words were muffled as he sticks his face right back between my legs. Reaching up to rub his slender fingers back and forth over my skin, touching me wherever he could without letting up on my cunt.
I take a moment to bask in the feeling, i never wanted this to end. Matter of fact.. i don't think it ever will.
__________________________________________________
PRESENT DAY..
It's only now i realize how hard i have the vibrator pressed to my clit, trying my hardest to make myself cum. Even the thought of taehyung being here with me wasn't helping me out.
As soon as i begin to close my eyes and relax, the door bursts open and taehyung stops in his tracks. I quickly remove the vibrator, throwing it to the side as he stares at me. The whole situation was just.. awkward.
The past few weeks me and taehyung had begun to grow apart. We talked less, facetimed less, we were less intimate.. it wasn't normal in the slightest.
I hadn't felt awkward around taehyung since we were both teenagers. But this, was downright weird. The way he looked at me made me feel embarrassed.
The sound of him clearing his throat causes me to look at him again, slowly closing my legs. "You need help?" he says, walking into the room and setting his phone down.
"No." is what my brain told me to say, but instead i timidly nod my head yes. Maybe this would help us grow closer. Maybe we just needed to be intimate again.
He moves me into a position to where we're practically spooning, and i take it upon myself to lift my thigh so he had easier access to my body.
I stay quiet as he spits on his fingers, bringing them down and pushing them into me without a word. My head falls onto the pillow as i let out a soft moan.
The only thing heard was the sound of his fingers pushing in and out of me. I was mentally screaming at him to say something, call me a slut, praise me, just say anything.
"You close?" was the only thing he bothered to utter to me. I nodded with urgency as my pussy spasmed around his finger. Letting out a loud moan as i finally came.
He doesn't say much when he pulls his fingers out, giving me nothing more than a low grunt of approval. He stands up from the bed & wipes his fingers on a nearby towel as i stare at him blankly.
"I've gotta go- i'll be home later." he was out of the door before i even had a chance to tell him bye. As soon as i hear the front door slam i let my tears fall, my head falling to my hands as i sob.
I didn't know what i was doing wrong. Was it the way i looked? The weight that i'd gained the last few weeks? I didn't understand why things were like this between us.
After a few minutes the room goes silent, i didn't have the energy to cry anymore. I wipe my face of the dried tears and crawl under the covers, hoping i could sleep off the way i felt.
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A WEEK LATER..
I rub my eyes as i stare at my laptop, being a editor was not a easy job at all. I yawn, letting exhaustion finally getting the best of me as i close my laptop and throw my blanket over me.
Suddenly, in comes taehyung, i get up immediately to greet him.
I place a kiss on his cheek and offer to take his bags for him like i always do, but he simply shakes his head, choosing to place his bags by the front door instead.
"Bad day?" i say, looking at him with a soft expression. The last thing i wanted to do was bother him if he'd had a hard day at work. "No.. I actually just need to talk to you about something."
I almost wanted to smile, we hadn't talked much the last few times he's came in from work, so this was a change i was looking forward to. "Okay, what's up?" i say, grabbing a apple from the fridge as i speak.
"Uh-" he hesitates for a minute when i turn my attention back to him, as if he was rethinking what he was about to say. I cock my head to the side, trying hard to read his expression, but i was getting nothing."
"I think.. we need to take some type apart." my smile drops immediately. I watch as he moves closer to me, looking at his eyes as he stares at me as if he felt nothing anymore.
"What do you mean like.. a break?" i say, i feel myself beginning to tear up and try to blink the tears away. My vision grew blurry, the tears refusing to go away.
"No y/n, i've found someone else." and i thought a break was bad. A tear finally falls at his words, my mind racing over the events of the past month. Was this why he was so distant?
"Taehyung.. please." i never thought i would beg for a man, but this.. it was different. "Please don't leave me." I'd put so much effort into this relationship over the years, all for him to leave me for another woman. I felt pitiful.
He shakes his head and slowly backs away from me, grabbing the same bags he placed by the door. "I'll be back to get my stuff tomorrow, but my decision is final y/n. We're done."
His words leave me speechless, and all i can do is stare at him as he walks out of my door. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact he threw our ten year relationship down the drain.
All of this, for nothing.
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bleedingoptimism · 10 months
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𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 
𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 
Robin laughs as she stares fondly at her friends. It’s been a slow day at Family Video, with people deeming it too hot outside to be locked up watching movies.
Except for Eddie, who showed up early in the afternoon but then never actually left because the AC was having a good day, and since it was nice inside the store, he decided to stay with them until the sun was a little less punishing.
She’s listening to Eddie explain to Steve why it's imperative he reads The Hobbit instead of just watching the 1977 movie, like Dustin suggested, saying he needs the whole experience to really appreciate it.
Steve is giggling, like actually giggling right now, looking intently at him as Eddie talks and gestures and openly flirts with him. 
And as Robin is watching them something suddenly clicks for her and she thinks ‘oh shit’.
She carefully inspects the way her best friend gazes at Eddie, the way he tilts his head, looking confused but flustered at the same time whenever Eddie leans his head towards him, smiling and lifting his eyebrows suggestively.
When Eddie finally leaves half an hour before closing time Steve sighs and smiles like a dingus at the door for 30 seconds after, and Robin wonders why hasn’t he told her about it but then she realizes maybe he doesn't know.
“Steve…” she starts, trying to figure out the best way to ask this, “you’d tell me if you really liked someone right? Really liked them? You’d tell me, right?”
Steve looks at her confused for a second before understanding dawns on him and he looks self-conscious, so Robin keeps talking,
“You’re my other half, we tell each other everything,” She tries not to sound crushed because judging by his reaction Steve knows exactly what she’s talking about and he didn't trust her with this secret, but she fails spectacularly to keep her voice steady. 
Steve looks at her, his face morphs from guilt to sorrow and his eyes are suddenly glassy, he blinks and a tear falls down his cheek. And Robin freaks the fuck out.
“Wow, wow, wow, wow, it's okay, it's okay.”
She hugs him, crushes him against her, and puts his head on her shoulder, one hand stays on his hair, while the other draws little circles at the center of his back in soothing motions.
Steve breathes deeply and calms down, he doesn’t start crying but it comes close. 
“I’m so sorry,” he tells her, lifting his head to look at her. Robin doesn't say anything, just hums, wiping that lonely tear off his cheek.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should’ve,” she says not unkindly. “I’d tell you I get why you didn’t, but, it’s me. It’s us,” she grabs his shoulders and squeezes. “You should’ve told me so I could be there for you.”
“I was scared. I am scared. I'm scared saying out loud will make it real.”
Robin drops her hands from his shoulders all the way to his hands and takes them. “I know, but,” she sighs and smiles at him moving his hands with hers from side to side.
“When I told you about me it was scary, yes. But it also felt good! Like, a weight I didn't know I had been carrying all my life was lifted, and you made me feel safe that day and every day after.”
He smiles shyly at her, and she keeps talking. “When we talk about girls and you ask for my opinion and we joke about it and stuff, you make me feel loved and like there’s nothing wrong with me.” 
Her voice breaks out of nowhere and Steve hugs her again, and this time he doesn't let go.
Robin puts her chin on his shoulder and slowly sways them from side to side. “This might be shitty of me, but I'm actually excited I get to be here for you too.”
Steve laughs brokenly and whispers, “Yeah?”
She breaks their hug and nods at him, smiling. Steve sighs again, smiling sadly back at her,
“I’m sorry I didn't say something sooner.”
“It's okay. I’m sorry I pushed.” 
Steve smiles again, contentedly this time but something flashes through his eyes as he frowns going back to looking scared,
“Am I really that obvious?”
“Not really,” she lies, “It’s just cause I know you so well.” 
He looks so relieved she feels bad about her little white lie so she amends, “Anyways, you are not more obvious than him, that’s for sure.”
“What?!”
𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱
part 1: ❤️
part 2: 🧡
part 3: 💛 
part 4: 💚
part 5: 💙
part 6: 💜
part 7: 💗
☕🥐💕
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deadbranch · 10 months
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The Last Sound
Author: @deadbranch
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader
Summary:  You’ve had a bad day.  There have been worse, but you’re on the edge of tears when John gets home. He knows how to comfort you.
Word Count:  1.2k
Warnings:  Lightly suggestive content, fluff, anxious thoughts, kissing, no real warnings.
A/N:  A very close friend of mine had a bad day today.  It’s her birthday.  What the hell, world?  I wrote this to cheer her up.  Happy birthday, babe.
JOHN PRICE MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST (all @deadbranch fanfic content)
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THE LAST SOUND
You hear a key rattle in the front door lock.
The door swings open, hinges creaking softly in the distance, then it shuts.  You hear what sounds like a heavy bag being set down on the chair by the door.
John calls your name.  Before you can reply, he starts rattling off news he’d heard on base about the expected inclement weather arrangements for Remembrance Day, and then something about one of his soldiers tearing their ACL, and as he enters the kitchen he stops talking.
His eyes are on you, the small pile of mail in his hands no longer of interest to him as he notices your body language and the look on your face.
Setting the mail down on the counter next to him, his eyes remain on you as he approaches the table and pulls out a chair across from you.
“Darling…what’s wrong?”  His brows crease as he reaches across the table and takes your hand in his.  He gestures for you to put your other hand on the table as well.
You wince at the contact; his hands are so warm.  Your fingers have felt cold all day, but it took John’s touch to wake you from the chilly static that’s been filling the air all afternoon.
“I’m fine.  Bad day,” You hedge.  Afraid to lose control, you’re determined to say as little as possible.  The sting of threatening tears at the corners of your eyes makes you hold your breath, hoping it will pass.
John loves you.  You love John.  But you’ve been together less than a year and your lingering concern is that he’ll decide you’re too much.  Too emotional.  A wreck of a human being.  Out of control.
On some days you’d swear John can read your mind.   Today is one of them.
He stands and moves his chair around the other side of the table, facing you.  As you turn to face him, he takes your hands in his again, his blue eyes looking soft, understanding…  Your instinct is to pull away.  Why is he looking at you like that?
He makes a soft shushing sound and scoots closer, one knee between yours.
“Hey.  Look at me.”  He waits for your eyes to meet his.
Tears spill, but he doesn’t tell you not to cry.  He doesn’t try to stop you.  He grabs a cotton dishtowel from the stack on the table and presses it into your hands.
“Darling.  You don’t have to tell me anything.  But I’ll listen to everything you want to say.”
You dab at your tears with the dishtowel, your nose already congested.  You press the cotton cloth to your face and lean into it, just letting your emotions roll out.  John leans toward you, wrapping his arms around your middle, a hand at the back of your neck as he places a kiss at your hairline.
As the hitching in your breath subsides, you tell him about the day that started poorly and just got worse as the day went on.
“But.  At least it’s Friday, right?”  You offer out loud to yourself.  You try to smile, to laugh, but it feels gummy and fake as you make the attempt.  John smiles supportively, his eyes kind and warm.  He knows you’re hurting.
The moment you met John you knew he could see the real you.  The you whom no one else seemed to see nor care about.
You had previously existed and interacted with the people around you in a constant state of caution.  The world ignored you until it needed something.  Or until someone wanted to make you feel bad, to take out their frustrations on you because it was easier than resolving the actual problem.  And you were too nice to fight back.  To draw a line.  To shove them back behind it.  You instead shrank from the world and waited for it to be over.
John never looked at you like someone to be saved.  He sees your heart, and he’s told you so, many times.  He says he’ll keep telling you until you believe him.  Then he’ll keep right on telling you.
His beautiful smile makes his beard appear to change shape, and it always makes you giggle.  You’ve never told him that’s the reason, but he’s always grateful to see happiness reclaim lost ground, regardless of the cause.
He nuzzles your face with his beard and kisses your lips tenderly.
“You’re right.  It is Friday.  And a little bird told me that it’s your birthday.” John presses his lips together with a slightly mischievous look in his eye.  He knows you adore that look.
“Ugh.  Who told you?”  You blurt out as you cover your face.
John leans in again and kisses the backs of your hands.  He hears you stifle a laugh despite your mortification.
“Your friends seem to like me…I have no idea why…but they tipped me off.”  He huffs out a laugh as he gently pulls your hands away from your face.  “How about…one of us orders food for take-away and the other picks out a film to watch?”  John’s brows rise as he awaits your response.
You nod.  “Okay.”
John stands and pulls you with him.  He kisses your lips more deeply than before, as though he’s just as relieved as you are to start moving past the gloom that’s held onto you all day.
“Did you know I love you?” he asks, his mouth smiling boyishly as he looks into your eyes and studies your face.
“I did.  You’ve gotten better at communicating.  I…don’t think I’ve made the same progress.”
“Shh…you had a head start on me.  When we first met, I was a ‘stoic bastard who’d never heard of feelings,’ remember?”
You breathe deeply as you figuratively dodge the cringey memory of when you called Captain John Price a stoic bastard who’d never heard of feelings.  You’d said it JUST like that, too.  Your first kiss happened that same night, as though you calling him out had dislodged him from his hesitance and denial.
John had cared for you for a long time, but it wasn’t until he witnessed your fiery outburst that he knew for sure.
He knew then the last sound he wanted to hear when he leaves this world is your voice.  Hopefully it’s a long time off, his last moments, but he knew early on that he’d met you for a reason.
“As we’re watching the movie, we can pause it if you want to talk.  Or if you need a moment.  Your bad day isn’t getting away so easily.  It can’t just sneak off and come back another time.  We’ll talk about it, as it makes itself known.  We’ll figure it out.  How does that sound?”  John looks hopeful.
“Sounds okay.  But can I ride with you to get take-away?”
He smiles big, his eyes crinkling sweetly as he leans in to kiss you again.  “Why, so you can make sure I pick up dessert?”
It’s your turn to smile.  “It is my birthday.  And...I like holding your hand in the car.”
“Me too.”  He enunciates the words in a way that makes you pull him into a playful kiss.  His laugh rumbles in his chest, making you feel giddy in his arms.
“Let’s order food before I make alternate plans…” you urge John with a warning tone.
“Alternate plans?  Like what?”
You raise your eyebrows and glance at your shared bedroom door.
“Oh. OH, I see.”  John feigns shock and dismay.  You swat him on the shoulder as he pretends to duck.
The rest of your day is looking better already.
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@jxvipike
@ohgodthebogisback
@misshoneypaper
@twoshields
@sinsmelody
@overthetopobsessed
@smoggyfogbottom
@mirthlxss
@boniscute
@0skyreaper0
@gcing-back-to-505
@montenegroisr
@solidly-indulgent
@brewed-pangolin
@tapioca-marzipan
@sofasoap
@havenforafrazzledmind
@quincessimus
@captainpriceslover
@glitterypirateduck
398 notes · View notes
vemaro · 2 months
Text
how the tables have turned
Summary: “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”
He’s suddenly being yanked back by his shirt. On instinct, he pulls out a dagger, ready to attack, but Jaheira, the perpetrator, takes out her own and holds it at the ready. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Little Star,” she says cheekily.
Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)
Word count: ~1800
Notes: Here I am on my day off wanting to write fluff and I end up writing about the whole Haarlep ordeal. That situation is bizarre and uncomfy, but full of so much angst. As per usual, this is written with the context of my AU, so Astarion and Tav aren’t actually together (yet) and this takes place within the context of the game plot. The vampy boy just got back from the ditching the posse in a hissy fit and discovers some disturbing changes.
“Rendezvous back here at the Elfsong when we’re all through, got it?” The party converges on the door of their suite, Tav at the lead, but just as it opens, she freezes. A tingle runs down her spine and a flush comes over her cheeks. No no no. Not now. Not again. “Oh no,” she mumbles before shoving her way past her friends and running straight to her bedroom. The door shuts with a resounding thud and a loud silence follows.
Karlach grimaces. “Fucking Haarlep,” she says, spitting the fiend’s name.
Astarion, who was at the back of the group, looks between Tav’s door and the tiefling. “What … was that about?”
No one gives him an immediate answer, but something about their silence feels off. He’s the only one who appears lost. In other words, they know something and they don’t want to tell him. Most likely as payback from when he left their group. Even he has to admit it’s somewhat warranted, but he’s here now, damnit. Then again, it’s been less than 24 hours since he came back.
Gale, unofficial second in command, awkwardly steps into the center of things. “Tav requires a, er, moment of privacy.” He clears his throat. “We should allow her that by going out and doing as she asked of us. Supplies won’t collect themselves.”
Astarion stares at the door. “But is she alright?”
The wizard falls silent once more, pointedly looking down at his boots and clearly done talking. Okay … Astarion can’t tell if he’s more annoyed by the situation or concerned for the person locked in the room. Fine. If they’re not going to provide him any information, he might as well get it from the source.
His expression must’ve given away his intention because Wyll grabs his shoulder before he can move. “Don’t, Astarion. Leave her be.”
“Don’t touch me.” He shrugs off the warlock's hand and continues on his way. Just as he touches the door knob, a noise escapes the room. A moan. A moan? And he knows that moan. He’s made people do it before. This—this can’t be right. He must be delusional. But then there it is again, a sound of ecstasy passing through Tav’s lips. “What in the fucking Nine Hells is going on in there?” he demands out loud.
Gale's face is bright red and he’s white knuckling his quarterstaff. “I told you she needed a moment,” he mutters, eyes pleading. “Now please kindly step away from the door.”
Astarion does move away from the door and gets right in his face. “Are we seriously delaying our day so she can pleasure herself? Have you all lost your damn—”
He’s suddenly being yanked back by his shirt. On instinct, he pulls out a dagger, ready to attack, but Jaheira, the perpetrator, takes out her own and holds it at the ready. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Little Star,” she says cheekily.
As frustrated as he is, Astarion is in no mood to fight. Although he has apologized for his dramatic departure, he’s not so naive to believe everyone has entirely forgiven him. He stashes his knife and holds up his hands. “I yield.”
She snaps at the others. “You all have a job to do, don’t you? Shoo.” They all file out slowly, a couple of them tossing a final glance in Tav's direction. Once it’s just the Harper and the vampire, the former gestures signals for him to follow. “Come.”
He grits his teeth, but obeys. Jaheira leads him downstairs into the tavern. It’s still mid morning, so there’s not much business yet, only a handful of people sprinkled across the space. The pair bypass the bar entirely and find an empty table in a secluded corner. She sits down first then nods towards the empty seat. “Sit.”
Astarion doesn’t fancy being told what to do yet again. “Tell me now; are you actually going to explain or should I just walk away?”
In lieu of properly answering, Jaheira lets out a world weary sigh and instead asks, “You are aware that we now possess the Orphic Hanmer, yes?”
He rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should leave. “Yes, I’m aware. How is that relevant to this conversation?”
“You recall where it was being held?”
His patience is wearing thin. “The House of Hope; that devil, Raphael’s, domain. I was told you lot took care of him.”
“Indeed. Raphael was defeated by our hand when we tried to escape with the hammer,” Jaheira says plainly. “However, prior to that battle, there was an incubus, Haarlep. He agreed to help us, but it came with a steep price.”
He reaches for his dagger again. “Is he up there right now?”
She shakes her head. “No, fortunately not.”
“Then what are we even talking about?”
Jaheira has never been one to mince her words, something Astarion respected her for. So it isn’t a good sign if she hesitates before speaking. The elder woman clasps her hands together and rests them on top of the table. Still, she pauses first. “Haarlep gave us a code to a safe and the hammer in exchange for having his way with Tav.”
Astarion feels his stomach drop into the sewers. “What?” He bangs his fists on the table. “Why the hells didn’t you kill him?”
“Honestly, we weren’t around to stop it from happening,” she confesses. “Tav split off from the group at some point and by the time we found her, a deal was struck and the deed was done.”
He points towards the stairs. “That still doesn’t explain whatever that is.”
Again, she hesitates, which is very unsettling. “He is a shapeshifter, much like that bloodthirsty Orin girl. Whenever he uses Tav’s form to seduce someone, she can feel everything with her own body.” The High Harper scowls. “It seems he’s been using it quite frequently.”
Astarion comes to a horrific realization. He covers his face in shame for her and finally drops into the open seat. “So right now, he’s fucking somebody else as her?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. This is too much. This is too familiar. Cazador is dead. Cazador is gone. Astarion stabbed him himself. This isn’t even about him, it’s about her. That stupid, selfless woman. He always warned Tav that her acts of heroism and martyrdom would eventually bite her in the ass one day, but he never thought it would be something like this. This is so much worse. What was she thinking? Jaheira allows him some time to gather his thoughts. When he does, he lets his hands fall away. “And … how often does this happen?”
“If I had to guess, every few days.” She sighs yet again. “You know how she can be though. It could be more. It hasn’t happened during a fight.” There’s an implied yet that hangs heavily in the air.
By now, a few guests have started to trickle in. Their private conversation won’t be so private for much longer. “How is she? Really.”
Jaheira stands. “Well, with an incubus violating her body, a mind flayer invading her mind, and a vampire spawn who wished her dead, how do you think, Little Star?” She doesn’t give him the opportunity to answer. She just walks away and out the front door, leaving him to stew in his thoughts and emotions. Which can be perfectly summed up as what the fucking hells.
It doesn't take too long for the druid to descend the stairs. At the bottom, she scans the room and her eyes connect with a familiar red pair of eyes. For a split second, she breaks into the sunny smile she’s known for, but one look at his expression sours hers. Tav heads for the door.
“Tav!” Astarion scrambles up from the chair and chases her outside. “Wait!”
She does not wait. “They told you.” It’s not even a question.
He catches up and puts himself directly in front of her. “I was going to find out eventually.”
Tav starts stabbing him with her finger in the chest. “Hey, you don’t get to judge me. You weren't there and it was the only way that no one would get hurt and—”
He lets her do it. “Out of everyone here, I have the least right to judge you.”
She laughs, but the sound lacks any humor. “Out of everyone here, you’d have the most right to judge me.”
Astarion frowns at the accusation. “Why would I judge you at all?”
“Because I had a choice, and you didn’t.”
Technically, technically, she’s not wrong, but that doesn’t make this any less fucked up. “I’m not judging you, Tav.” Gods below, is this what it was like for her when she was trying to get him to open up? “Your body is being used in such a dirty, nefarious way against your will, the toll on your mind and body is unfathomable. I’m the only person here who truly understands that.”
“I’m fine.”
Her nonchalance on the subject is pissing him off, but a small voice (that sounds awfully close to hers) reminds him this isn’t about him. “No, you’re not.”
Tav crosses her arms. “You went through this for two hundred years. I’m not going to compare my tendays of discomfort to your literal centuries of torture.”
“By the Gods, Tav, it’s not a bloody pissing contest for trauma!” He wants to grab the druid and shake some sense into her. If the issue at hand was literally anything else, he would. “Whether it’s been happening for a day, a week, a month, or a thousand years, it’s a shit predicament for anyone.”
He notices her fists clenching and unclenching. She’s digging her nails into her palms. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”
That’s a lie, plain and simple, but he won’t push the subject any further. From his own experience being on the other side of things, specifically during their discussions, it made him dig his heels in the dirt and shut down. Ironic how the tables have turned. “Alright,” he concedes. “But if you ever need to talk, I’m willing to lend an ear.”
Tav closes her eyes, takes a very deep breath, and lets it out very slowly and loudly. When she looks back at him, she seems slightly less frazzled. “Thanks, but I’m—”
“Fine?” he says with a smirk.
She snorts. “I am.”
“Of course you are.”
With an unimpressed eye roll, she pushes him away in jest. “I am, for the millionth time. Now drop it and let’s go. We’re already running behind.”
“Coming, dear.”
As they walk side by side, Astarion can’t help but wonder when he became the emotionally mature one in their friendship. The one attempting to crack open the shell of the other person. Ugh, he fucking hates it. Being the petty and bitter one is much easier. And yet he wants to try to be supportive and open. For her.
The things you do for love, right?
Thanks for reading!
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4wkjun · 4 months
Text
slow down
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WARNINGS: mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (use protection!), overstimulation, using of sex toys, oral sex (f!receiving), swearing, slight rough sex (clit slapping), creampie.
"tell me what it is you wanna know", yeonjun asked when he realized you were staring at him.
you had a couple of drinks and the loud music was confusing your thoughts, but all you could possibly think about was kissing your boyfriend until your lips fell off.
"i want you", you mumbled. yeonjun smiled and brought you closer to him by passing his arm over your shoulders.
"finish up the bottle then we'll go, babe", he whispered on your ear, pointing to your beer sitting on the table.
his tone made you feel hot, pressing your thighs together. you grabbed your bottle and chugged a good amount, desperate to leave that party.
"won't you have a little?", you asked yeonjun. he chuckled, seeing the redness because of the alcohol over your cheeks.
"no way."
it took you less than two minutes to actually finish the bottle. you got up and yeonjun excused the both of you, saying you weren't feeling good and needed to leave.
"jjun", you whined walking down the empty parking lot. "can't we do it in the car?"
he laughed, opening the passenger's door for you.
"i'm too phased", he groaned. "however, i still want to take my time with you, princess."
you pouted as he kissed your forehead. you got in the car, uncomfortable because of your wet panties.
"did you take something?", yeonjun asked as soon as he got inside of the car, laughing.
"what?"
"i don't know. why are you so turned on?"
"because of you", you said, looking at him with lust eyes. "gosh, i want you so bad", you whined, pressing your thighs together.
yeonjun felt his underwear tightened. he always pictured you sucking him while he drove, but tonight he wanted things to be about you. as he entered the highway, he laid his hand on your thigh.
"can't we pull over?", you whispered on his ear, leaning in to palm his cock over his jeans. "i'm so down if you're ready."
"sorry love, i'm planning on taking things real slow with you back home", he groaned. you squeezed his cock, whining at the feeling of him getting harder under your touch. "stop it, baby. we'll be home in five minutes, i'll make it up to you, hm?", he said, taking your hand off him.
you whined, leaning against your seat again. you couldn't stop about yeonjun pulling over right there to fuck you raw in the backseat. you could picture the windows getting foggy and the messy sounds of his cock entering your dripping cunt.
neither of you said anything during the drive home. as yeonjun pulled the car in the driveway, he looked at you with dark eyes.
"get inside, love. i'll take care of you."
you obeyed, rushing to the inside. yeonjun chuckled, locking the car and getting inside as calm as he could. he knew you were desperate for his cock, so he decided to torture you a little bit.
yeonjun found you in the bedroom, taking your shirt off. he scoffed.
"aw, why are you rushing things up? i thought i would have the honor to undress you as i wish", he said, his body slowly approaching yours.
you moaned as his lips found the soft skin of your neck. your fingertips pulled on his soft hair, making him groan against your skin.
"jjun, i need you", you whined again. "don't you need me?", you asked, you left hand hovering his hard dick.
"i'll show you if you let me", he groaned. his hands guided you as he walked towards the bed, pushing you in the middle of it.
yeonjun kissed your chest as his hands found the zipper of your jeans, pulling it down. his lips left a trace on your skin as he kissed your upper stomach, not even close to your still clothed tits. everytime he moved an inch, his eyes kept looking for yours, eager to see how you reacted to his touch. your chest was moving fast and your head felt heavy, just like yeonjun expected you to be.
as he pulled your jeans and your panties down, he smiled. you were completely wet, he could simply slip his cock into you and fuck you restlessly at that exact moment. however, he started to kiss your lower belly, right above your pussy.
"jjun, you don't have to", you said softly, trying to pull his head. he grabbed your hands, pinning them down on the mattress.
"coming down is all i ever do, babe", he smirked. still holding onto your hand and looking at your face, he laid his tongue flat on your clit. your breath got caught in your throat at the contact, your pussy involuntarily clenching.
yeonjun sucked and licked your clit like he never did. or maybe everything felt so intense because of the alcohol running in your veins, but it didn't matter since you were over the clouds in no time.
throwing your head back, you moaned loudly, not caring about the time or about the neighbors who may hear you. you let go of his hand and grabbed his hair, slightly pushing his head against your cunt. since you let go of his hands, he decided it would be a good idea to finger you.
after three years of relationship, yeonjun knew your body way too well. he knew how to make you cum in no time, so that's what he did. he curved his fingers over your sweet spot and started to stimulate it along with the oral. in literally fifteen seconds, you orgasm washed over you. he didn't even care about your grip on his hair or how loud you were - actually, he liked to know he could make your lose your cool -, he could only think of how much he wanted to fuck you.
as soon as you rode your high, yeonjun got up, licking his fingers in front of you. he smirked when he realized you were already a mess over the bed. he slowly undressed, knowing your eyes were following his moves.
"jjunnie, can i suck your cock?", you asked, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard dick hitting his stomach.
he hissed at your words. "i'm sorry, love. tonight is about you",
"crawl a little further on the bed, babe", he said, pumping his cock. you did, eager for him to finally fuck you. stroking his own cock, yeonjun opened your last drawer and grabbed your hitachi.
"what are you doing?", you asked, still a little short of breath.
"shh, i'm about to show you, baby. slow down", he answered, plugging your vibrator on the outlet.
you whined when you realized yeonjun was about to fuck you raw. but instead of getting his dick inside of you at once, he slid his cock over your pussy over and over again. you squirmed, your clit swollen from your previous orgasm.
"please, jjun", you moaned. "fuck me like i'm famous."
he chuckled. "as you wish, princess."
before you could say anything else, yeonjun slid his tip inside of you. he did it so slowly it was torturing for the both of you.
you grabbed the sheets everytime he moved inside of you. as he got balls deep, you felt him on your cervix.
"fuck, jjun", you moaned loud.
yeonjun smirked, getting himself out of you as slow as he got in. "you're so loud, my love", he say, picking the pace a little. "do you want all of the neighbors to know how much of a slut you are?", he asked, slapping your clit as he was fully in again.
you moaned even louder, head thrown back and toes curling. you shook your head, suddenly uncapable of speaking.
"hm, y/n? tell me, do you want everyone to know how much of a mess you are with your pussy full?", he slapped your clit again.
you could feel your second orgasm building up as he kept fucking you ridiculously slow while slapping your sensitive clit. you clenched hard around him, holding your breath.
"cat got your tongue?", he groaned, slapping your clit continuously.
it got unbearable, so you ended up cumming over him without a warning. yeonjun kept sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace while overstimulating your clit.
"jjun, i can't", you said when his slapping turned into rubbing. he started to fuck you a little faster than he was, but still not how you wanted in the first place.
"oh, you can, baby. cum for me again, slut", he groaned, his tip hitting your cervix non-stop and his fingers caressing your super sensitive bud.
just like that, your third orgasm hit you. you couldn't help but to moan loud once again and try to hold his hand so he would stop. when he realized how bad your legs were shaking, he stopped rubbing your clit.
you finally took a deep breath, but whined right after when he gave you a particularly hard thrust. his thrusts became slow again, but harder then they were. with your eyes closed, you heard the buzzing noise from your vibrator.
"jjun, i can't", you whined, looking at him. yeonjun smirked, shaking his head.
"just one more, love", he whispered as he placed the vibrator on your clit.
you barely left a scream out when you felt the vibration over your clit. it was way too much for you, you started to drool with your eyes closed and frowned eyebrows. you tried to relax your pussy so you wouldn't cum again, but yeonjun started to fuck you as fast as he could - this time, searching for his own orgasm.
you held his arm, your whole body shaking. he leaned into you, pressing the vibrator with the weight of his own torso against you.
with a literal growl, yeonjun came when you clenched around his cock. feeling his warm seed inside of you, your fourth orgasm washed over you.
he slowly got off you when he finished riding his high, sighing at the sight of your pussy dripping his cum. he collected his sperm with his fingertips and fucked it back into your cunt, smiling at your squirms.
"you take my cum so well", he pleased, leaning over to kiss your cheeks. you didn't realize you actually cried a little until yeonjun used his thumb to wipe the tears off your face. he kissed your lips ever so softly, caressing your cheek. "you good?"
you nodded, lightheaded. he chuckled, kissing your cheek.
"come on, i'll give you a nice bath", he said softly.
"i can't take it anymore", you whined.
yeonjun laughed out loud, shaking his head.
"i actually ment a bath. come on, you'll relax and then we'll go to sleep", he explained, pecking your lips again. "let me take care of you, hm?"
you nodded. yeonjun took you to the bathroom in the bridal style. even though he said he would just help you to get clean, you got out of the bathroom a long time after, feeling more sore and dirty than when you got in the first place.
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook: Clingy 🔞 [Part 4]
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In which your soup makes him cry, but he's glad you can't see it at least.
Tags/Warnings: Hybrid AU, Wolf hybrid!Jungkook, Otter hybrid!Reader, Angst, strangers to ???
Additional Chapter Warnings: Good soup 🤌, Jungkook has some serious emotional constipation, angst, wolfboy is in denial, fluff?
-> Masterlist
♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
He wakes up alone in bed, and for a moment, he's unsure if he's actually awake or dreaming.
The room is dipped in an almost golden glow, body cushioned by all the different blankets and pillows in the bed he's sleeping in. There's a faint smell of food, something metallic clattering onto the floor - a piercing sound that makes his ears flick towards the origin.
He turns to see a sheepishly smiling you, clad in comfy clothing, tail tucked between your legs from what he assumes must be the shock of the loud noise. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." You say, and he sits up at that, running a hand through his hair. "You looked too peaceful sleeping, and, you know, I technically still have today so.." You tell him before picking up the spoon that had fallen out of your hands.
"What time is it?" He wonders more or less to himself, moving around to grab underwear from his bag at the side of the bed, feeling an odd sense of dread and disappointment in his bones.
"Around 4 PM." You tell him, turning around to put the now washed cutlery away, while he packs his bag silently. Usually, this would be a time of finally breathing again, another job done, a new month's salary added. But somehow, he feels dread, like he's disappointed your heat had ended so quickly - even though it wasn't quick at all. You've rented him for a full week plus a buffer day if needed, and he knew that right from the start.
You didn't even rent him. If fate had played its cards differently, he wouldn't have even met you ever.
You paid for him. Nothing more and nothing less.
"So uh.." You awkwardly start as he stands in front of you a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to leave. "I really don't know how this.. uhm. Yeah." You stammer before shrugging. "Thank you? Is that what you say?"
"No problem, it's my job after all." He responds, though he spots the faint realization on your face as he says that. It's odd how it makes you look just as disappointed as he feels. "But I enjoyed it anyways."
"Uh.. thanks?" You say, cheeks red while he walks to the door. "Oh, wait!" You call out, running to get something out of your fridge. "You didn't have anything to eat yet, and you said you can't cook well.. so you can have my leftover soup from today." You tell him, giving a pink plastic container to him, one he carefully holds. "Just.. you can keep the Tupperware box, I have a lot." You tell him, and he doesn't know how to properly decline. You're a client, and he doesn't even eat soup-
"Thank you." He says, bowing politely before he leaves your apartment behind him, door closing quietly-
But he still stops in his tracks the second he hears the click of the lock, time standing still for a little while. The container in his hands is cold, biting at his skin, and only after a moment does he carefully place it somewhere in his bag where it can't cause any mishap.
Climbing into the van provided by the company, the driver greets him just like always. "How are you?" He asked, only getting a hum as a reply since Jungkook busies himself with stretching his limbs. "Damn, I picked up Tae today from a similar street. Takes me back to the times when you both were still new." The man chuckles, and Jungkook just shrugs, looking outside the window.
It's true that the scenery looks nostalgic almost, though right now, the wolf hybrid doesn't want to dwell on it any longer. He just wants to go home, sleep well, and enjoy his free time.
His apartment is cold but familiar, comforting as he lets his bag drop to the ground, typical routine starting. But when he stands in front of his shower, he hesitates- he's showered at your place already, there's no need to do it a second time. He'd almost always shower again here at his place to get any scents off of him, but he doesn't actually mind the strawberry vanilla scented bodywash still clinging to his skin.
Or was that your scent?
He's unsure, rather opting to take out the container of soup from his bag to put into the microwave, carefully keeping an eye on it in case the container isn't safe for those temperatures. Filling the contents into a bowl, he sits in front of his TV, boring drama, playing more or less as background noise if anything else as he eats the first spoonfuls of your cooking. It warms up his body, fills him with comfort, and has a soft sense of nostalgia as he watches the screen in front of him.
Until he notices his vision blurring, heavy blinking only forcing the tears to fall.
He's confused. Why is he crying right now? He doesn't even feel particularly sad at all. Nothing is wrong, he's not sick, and neither does it feel like he's allergic to anything in your cooking. There's emotions in his head that just don't make sense at all, and he hates it.
Why does he miss you?
The soup is good, great even, your cooking is absolutely perfect in that it's not perfect at all. There's no expensive spices or ingredients used, just the traditional vegetables and a bit of chicken like he remembers his aunt making whenever he got sick.
He sighs after he finishes the small meal, sitting back on his couch to just exist for a moment, head empty before it fills with you again. Would you spend your next heat with one of the lower ranking workers next time? Possibly, if you won't find a permanent partner before then. He can't imagine that being too hard for you. After all, he's pretty sure he'd choose you as a lover in a heartbeat if he was ever to be asked.
His eyes widen as he realizes what he'd just thought.
As if burned, he jumps up from the couch, taking his cutlery and bowl with him to wash everything in his sink, your pink Tupperware container included. He needs to give that back to you. He needs to return it, and he needs it out of his apartment and out of his life.
And most of all, he needs to get you out of his head.
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lightupthemoon · 2 years
Text
Video Games
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Summary: Kate's entire body ached for your attention and she was going to get it, one way or another.
OR Kate comes home from a mission only to find you playing video games and not paying attention to her.
Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader
Warnings: SMUT. That's all this is. 18+, minors DNI.
Word Count: 1.5 K
Read on AO3
Author's Note: HI GUYS. I'm back, simping for Kate Bishop, this time brought to you by an idea the lovely @alotzofashe gave me the other day. Enjoy!
“I’ll be right with you, babe.” 
Kate huffed as a response, shaking her head in disbelief. 
Your girlfriend understood you needed a hobby. It was great you had something to keep you distracted and away from the stress your job, school, and Kate’s dangerous superhero activities brought you. Healthy, even. Nevertheless, when she suggested you took up a new activity, she never really expected you to pick up video games, let alone become so obsessed with them that you just wouldn’t put down the controller even after she came home from a weeks-long mission. 
“You said that two hours ago, you know,” Kate said, the pout on her lips noticeable in her voice. “Did you not miss me?”
“Of course I missed you, babe, I promise I am almost done with–damn it!” You exclaimed, startling Kate with the sudden loudness of your voice. You leaned closer to the monitor, adjusting your grip on the controller, your fingers quickly working on the buttons. “I almost had it!”
Kate rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at you. She had fantasized about coming home for weeks, so much that the rest of her team on the mission made fun of her for how much she talked about you. She couldn’t help it–even when she loved her superhero life, she hated being away from you. Her entire body ached for your attention, your lips on her skin, your touch–and she was going to get it, one way or another. 
Kate arched an eyebrow as she got up from the bed, tugging at the collar of her t-shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall onto your bedroom floor. 
“Baby, I’m not gonna ask you again,” Kate muttered, her voice an octave lower, undoing her belt and pulling her jeans down. “I’m in my underwear and I’ll let you do what you want to me,” she kicked her pants out of the way, leaving her in the set of dark green lingerie she had worn just for you. “Just come here.”
Only the sound of you pressing different buttons lingered in the air. “Just five more minutes, babe, I swear.”
Kate clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval. She walked toward the door and closed it, locking it behind her before heading your way. You were so engrossed in your game that you didn’t notice when she kneeled by you, much less when she slipped between your chair and your desk, only a small ring of deep blue left in her eyes. Kate bit her lip as she took you in, only wearing shorts and one of her shirts. She placed her hand on your knee, making you jump a little in your seat at the coolness of her touch on your warm skin. 
“Kate, what–” You lost your train of thought, your girlfriend’s hand sliding up from your knee to your thigh. You tightened your grip on the controller, trying to find any ounce of stability. 
“Don’t stop on my account, baby,” she said, sounding unbelievably innocent for what she was doing. “Pretend I’m not here.”
“Babe, I–” You tried again, the sentence dying in the back of your throat as Kate’s hand slipped between your legs, her digits moving your underwear aside. 
Acting strictly on instinct, you paused the game, your jaw almost dropping to the floor when you finally took a look at her in her lace underwear. You licked your lips in anticipation, reaching for your desk to put your controller down before she stopped you, her free hand pushing you back into your chair. Kate leaned closer to you, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 
“You wanted to keep playing, didn't you?” Kate whispered with her mouth ghosting over yours, making you swallow the lump in your throat. “So go on. Keep playing.”
She moved back, returning to her previous position by your legs, clearly waiting for you to return your attention to the screen. You did so reluctantly, suddenly nervously pressing the buttons while you wondered what she was planning to do. All your questions were answered when you felt something explode inside your belly, Kate's expert fingers slipping past your underwear to land on your clit, a small moan escaping her lips while making circular motions with her middle and ring finger. The sudden pleasure hit you like a train, making you bite your bottom lip so hard the flesh turned white. The sensation tightened in your lower abdomen, Kate's other hand slipping under your shirt to grab your boob hungrily, keeping a steady rhythm on your now throbbing center. You watched your character die on the screen again, caring very little about it as Kate kneaded at your boob, your shirt lifting a little and exposing a small trail of inviting skin for her to kiss. Although you expected it, you couldn’t help but gasp when you felt her lips on you, the weight of how much you had missed her finally hitting you with full strength. 
“Kate, what–" your girlfriend removed her fingers from your folds, a whine rippling through your lips. She shushed you, humming against your skin happily as both her hands gripped both sides of your hips. 
"What's wrong, baby?" Kate asked in the same innocent tone as before, slipping her thumbs in each side of your shorts, lifting you just enough for her to pull them down, along with your underwear. "Can't concentrate?" 
"How do you expect me to concentrate when you're–oh my god, Kate." 
Your controller fell to the floor with a thud, your hands immediately holding onto the back of Kate's head, now positioned between your legs, her tongue licking a strip from the rim of your entrance to your clit, sucking on it lightly. Muffled words of how good you tasted got lost in your fuzzy brain, white shocks of pleasure overtaking your body. A stream of profanities and incoherent words slipped through your lips, your fingers tangling in dark locks of hair while you pushed your girlfriend as close to you as you could. Your hips instinctively moved to a rhythm of their own, the coil feeling in your stomach tightening as Kate's attention on your burning core intensified. You were barely adjusting to the feeling when two of her digits returned to your folds, slipping inside you with ease. 
"Fuck, babe, just like that," you groaned, echoes of her fingers moving in and out of you resounding in the air. 
"Do I have your attention now, baby?" Kate teased you, the vibrations of her voice hitting on your clit deliciously. You whined in response. "I spent all my time away dreaming about having you all to myself, tasting you, watching your pretty little hole clench around my fingers and you still made me wait." Her pace became ruthless, her teeth gracing your sensitive bud just slightly, pushing you closer to the edge. "Do you even deserve to cum?" 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, one of your hands leaving her hair and kneading at your breast as she had done before. You wanted to answer her, tell her you would be good now and do anything she asked for but you couldn't string two words together for the life of you, not with the overwhelming euphoria already coursing through your veins. Instead, you whined; the four letters of her name the only thing on your lips. Kate looked at you with mischief in her dark eyes, thoroughly enjoying the effect she had on you. 
"Answer me, baby," Kate demanded, the tone of her voice making your eyes snap open. "Should I let you cum?" 
You smoothed your tongue over your bottom lip, trying to concentrate. "Y–yes, please. Make me cum, Kate, I wanna cum on your tongue, please."
Kate hummed with satisfaction, picking up the pace of her fingers and flicking your clit with her tongue. Your moans were so loud and filthy that the brunette could feel a fire of her own going ablaze inside her. The archer felt you clench around her fingers, curling them inside you, hitting the right spot just perfectly. 
"Cum for me, my love." 
Your girlfriend had barely finished her sentence when you finally danced off the edge, your whole body trembling at the strength of your pleasure. Kate slowed down her pace while you came down from your high, savoring every drop, letting you ride it out until you couldn't take it anymore.
You dropped your hands to your sides, your chest heaving with every breath you took. Kate smiled at the sight of you, leaning over to pepper kisses all over your neck, your jaw, your cheek and finally landing on your lips. You whimpered at the taste of you in her mouth, parting yours open just enough to slip your tongue past her teeth. Kate sighed happily, overwhelmed by her love for you. 
The kiss died down naturally as your breathing returned to normal. Kate pressed her forehead to yours, your arms circling her neck. 
"I'm so glad you're back home," You whispered, getting lost in the ocean blue staring back. "I missed you." 
"Finally," Kate rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, the corners of her mouth curled up. "The welcome I deserve." 
You let out a laugh, kissing her again. "I'm sorry, baby. How can I make it up to you?" 
Kate's eyebrow rose, her smile turning into a smirk. "Turn that shit off. I'm not done with you yet." 
She didn't have to tell you twice. 
TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte @girlssnrosess @musicinourlips @youralphawolf72 @assgardangod
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Unwind- Dieter Bravo x f!reader
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Summary: Dieter helps you unwind when you get your period after an already long day.
Rating: Let’s say M to be safe. As always, my entire blog is 18+. MDNI
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: established relationship, reader menstruates, drug use (marijuana), reference to past drug use, reference to bad horror movies, Dieter being our favorite trash panda, sweet, fluffy, domesticity
Immersability: reader is able-bodied
Author’s Notes: nobody asked for this but ya girl is going through it right now and I needed this. This is very self indulgent.
The last two weeks have been literally from hell. One of your employees quit so your department is down to you, the department head, and someone so incompetent you usually have to redo all of her work. And your boss has decided to become all “hands-on” all of a sudden, in the most unhelpful ways known to man. Considering he’s never actually done your job, he sure does act like he knows the ins and outs of it well enough to tell you that you’re doing it wrong.
 “I swear, if he says one more word to me, I’m gonna quit.” You tell Az, your direct superior, and best friend. 
“You wouldn’t do that to me.” They laugh. You know they are right, but goddamn, Don pisses you off. Your back has been killing you all morning and every little thing seems to set you off. You cried at fucking meme earlier. Sure, it was the cutest dog you’ve ever seen in your life, but come on. As you gather your belongings to leave for the day, you feel a warm gush between your legs. You turn around and head to the bathroom. Well, that explains a lot, you think as you see the red bloom across your underwear.
You stop at the gas station to buy a single packet of Midol and a Red Bull to wash it down. You chug the Red Bull and swallow the pills and put on your playlist titled ‘Sad Girl Hours.’ You like to lean into the emotions.  You feel a sharp stab streak across your abdomen. You curse and hope the Midol kicks in soon. You kind of wish you had something stronger. But you and Dee had agreed to lay off the hard stuff from now on. You wish he was home, but he said there were a few last minute rewrites that would extend the shoot for a few days. You pull into the driveway and leave everything nonessential in the car, you can come back for it later, when you feel less like you’re being gutted from the inside. You stick your key in the lock but pause when you hear sounds from inside. Lou Reed’s voice crackles from the speakers. Tears sting your eyes. Only one person would be listening to a bootleg of The Ludlow Street demo tape, from the earliest days of what would eventually become The Velvet Underground. There aren't many people who could both afford it and appreciate it. 
“Baby?” You call as you close the front door behind you. You throw all of your shit on the ground by the door and kick off your shoes. Your hand goes under your shirt and behind your back. You unhook your bra and pull the straps through the sleeves of your shirt, one at a time. You fling the thing over your shoulder, not caring where it lands as you make your way down the hall. He’s in his studio but he can’t hear you over the music. He has speakers in every room, all connected to the same sound system. You lean up against the doorframe and just watch him for a moment. He never looks as peaceful as he does when he paints. He’s wearing his favorite green robe, and his favorite Crocs. His back is to you, he moves the easel around the room while he paints to best capture the light. You can just see the top strip of the canvas. Blades of grass is all you can make out. You’re just glad to see that it’s not the black, bleak, soul-shredding images that he was partial to during the height of your drug use. You lift your hand to the door and softly rap your knuckles against it, loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to scare him. 
Dieter turns around and immediately drops his paintbrush to the floor. He’s only wearing boxers beneath his robe. “Baby! You’re home!” He rushes over to you, not caring that he’s tracking paint all over the floor. He pauses the music on his way. He wipes his hands on his robe and wraps his arms around you. 
“You’re home early.” You say into his chest, where you rest your head. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I- I kinda lied. About the rewrites.” You look up at him and he smiles sheepishly. “I know you’ve been having a hard time at work and I wanted to surprise you.” You can’t hold the tears back anymore. Full on ugly sobs. You bury your head in his chest and cry. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry, baby. I thought you would like it.” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “I can fuck off for a few more days if you want.” You laugh and pull your head back up. He wipes the snot from your nose with the sleeve of his robe. 
“I’m sorry, Dee. I’ve just had a shit day and I got my period so now I feel like shit, too.” You tell him. You stretch your head to his and give him a kiss. “I’m really glad you lied to me. I was wishing you were gonna be here the whole drive home.” He gives you another kiss on your lips and then one on your forehead.
“Well, your wish came true. And now I’m gonna take care of you. Come on.” He grabs your hand and drags you further into the house. You get a peek at the canvas before you’re pulled up the stairs by Dieter. Two forms tangled together in grass. A scene you recognize well. It's from your favorite place in the backyard. Where you and Dieter like to lay on a blanket, get high, and look at the stars. Sometimes you both get a little too into it. You simultaneously hope nobody ever sees the painting and wish it would hang in the front room of the house. Not that you want to subject everyone to the image of Dieter fucking you in the grass. But it's so goddamn beautiful you think everyone should see it once before they die.
“Sit.” He orders with a snap and a point to the bed. You sit on the edge of the bed and watch him flit around the room. He sifts through your dresser drawers, and then his own. His arms are full of clothes as he dips into the attached bathroom. You hear water running and lay back on the bed. The door opens a moment later and Dieter reappears fully dressed. "Come here, baby" you follow him into the bathroom and he begins pulling at your clothes. 
"Dee, did you get dressed just so I could rip your clothes off?" You ask while he pulls your shirt over your head.
 "Shut up." He laughs. He remembers doing that once, after a particularly long shoot. 5 months in Eastern Europe. Your schedules only lined up for a visit once. It wasn't even worth it in the end. The movie was a flop, commercially and critically. Dieter loved the script, though. If the director had been worried about anything other than a potential Oscar nom, they could have made something really special. 
Once he’s striped you bare, he points to the tub. It's already full of bubbles and water, the smell of eucalyptus and the steam rising from the tub draw you in. He holds your hand as you step into the jacuzzi tub that takes up a good chunk of the bathroom. The bathroom that’s bigger than the entire bedroom in your last apartment, by a lot. He lets go once you’ve settled into the water to hand you a bath pillow. The heat instantly begins to sap the stress and stiffens from your body. You make an appreciative moan. Dieter holds up his hands, a remote in each one. “Music or TV?” He asks. 
“TV, please.” He turns and aims the remote at the wall mounted TV. He scrolls through the apps until he finds Disney+. You smile while he searches for your comfort show. 
“I’ll be back. Stay here for at least an episode. Maybe an episode and a half.” His eyes look up to the ceiling  while he tries to calculate how much time he’ll need. “Yeah, that should be good.” He nods. He turns to leave but stops when you call his name.
 “Thank you for this.” You say quietly, on the verge of tears again.
 “You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.” He says with a wink. 
After a full episode of The Mandalorian and half of another, the water has gotten tepid and your fingers are all pruney and the bubbles are all gone. You stand in the tub and open the drain. You step out of the tub, thankful that Dieter insisted on having the floor in here carpeted, and pad over to the vanity. He’s left your favorite pair of sweatpants and his well worn Fleetwood Mac shirt for you to put on, along with the ugliest socks you own. You won't get rid of them because they are fuzzy and cozy and the most comfortable socks you’ve ever worn. You slip your feet into your Crocs that match his. “We’ll look so cute.” He had argued when you told him that Crocs are ugly and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those ‘clown shoes.” Who’s the clown, now? You think with a laugh. You’ve never been able to resist him when he hits you with the puppy dog eyes.
You pad down the stairs and into the living room, where you hear Dee shuffling around. Your eyes go wide when you see that the couches and coffee table have all been shoved to one side of the room. “What are you up to?” You ask, eyeing the pile of what looks like every blanket and pillow in the house.
 “Come on! Get in!” He pats the pile. He’s already back out of his clothes. Boxers and trusty robe the only thing he’s wearing. You side eye him a bit and flop down. Fluffy and soft, it feels like a warm hug. Dieter tosses your favorite blanket over you and walks into the kitchen. He emerges with three bags that are so full you’re surprised they haven’t busted. 
“What is all this, Dee?” You ask when he drops them near your feet. 
“Snacks.” He says matter-of- factly. He climbs into the mountain behind you. His thighs bracket your body and he pulls you back into his chest. He reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out the remote, a joint, and a lighter. He lights the joint and hands it to you. “For your cramps, babe.” He starts the movie and you feel a little pissed that your eyes water again. Goddamn hormones , you think. Shitty horror movies are your favorite. And Feast is one of the cheesiest, bad-but-in-a-good-way, shitty movies ever. And there’s two of them. He wraps his arm around your body. He settles his hand on your lower abdomen. His big, warm palm helps better than any heating pad ever could. You pass the joint back to him. “Good?” He asks. You clear your throat before you answer. 
“Very good. Thank you, Dee.” Your voice is thick from the smoke and the tears that you absolutely prohibit to fall from your eyes. 
“I love you, baby.” He says before he captures your lips in a warm kiss. 
You watch shitty movies, eat shitty food and smoke excellent weed until you both fall asleep. You finally get a good night's rest, you never sleep well when he’s away. You don’t even mind that he clings to you in his sleep like a koala, or that his body is like a furnace when he’s asleep. When you wake in the morning, his body still curled around yours, you stroke his head and thank your lucky stars that you found each other. 
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