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#we can’t even breathe a word against them
rafeandonlyrafe · 1 day
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angel of a daughter
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words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 
“y-yeah.” you nod. 
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine. 
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra
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prythianpages · 1 day
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Be Safe | Azriel x Reader
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summary: you are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go.
warnings: fluff and a hint of suggestiveness at the beginning
note: I saw this tiktok and decided to write it into a little scenario because I loved it so much.
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“Oh, you’re going to love the Day Court,” Mor purrs with a grin. “And it’s High Lord. Helion…let’s just say his pegasus isn’t the only thing you’ll want to ri–”
“Oookay.” Cassian chimes in with a chuckle, placing his hand over Mor’s mouth to keep her from finishing her sentence. “Settle down, Mor. We don’t want her to love it too much!” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” you respond and then laugh as Mor bites Cassian’s hand. "Besides, Rhys will be there and he’s, you know, my boss. This trip is purely professional.”
The three of you stand in the foyer of the town house, Cassian cradling his hand to his chest with a pointed look at Mor, who merely rolls her eyes. You were heading for Day Court, where Rhysand already waited for you. Cassian and Mor had stopped you, insisting on wishing you well before leaving, even though your mission was amicable. The only danger you could possibly encounter on your trip, it seems, would be Helion’s chambers. A welcomed danger, if Mor’s insinuations were to hold truth.
“I should go now. I told Rhys I would be there within the next half hour almost an hour ago.”
As you gaze at your friends, a subtle ache tugs at your heartstrings, a silent yearning for another’s presence. Though you know he's currently engaged in a mission, you can't help but wish he were here beside you too. 
You turn away from your friends, preparing to winnow to the Day Court. It's as though the Cauldron itself heard your unspoken longing. Just as you're about to step forward, a hand emerges from the depths of the shadows, halting you in your tracks with a gentle yet firm touch.
You turn back around, watching as the darkness seems to part for him, revealing those warm hazel eyes that could pierce through the darkest of nights. “Azriel,” you greet in pleasant surprise.
His eyes lock onto yours and you suddenly find it hard to breathe. “Be safe,” he murmurs, his voice deep yet sweet like honey. The way he looks at you, full of concern and something else you can’t quite discern at the moment, sends a delightful warmth seeping into your heart. 
Azriel’s gaze flickers down toward your intertwined hands and you notice the subtle tension that comes from his scarred hands before he abruptly lets yours go. It’s a moment of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. You want to reach out for his hands again but he comes to stand by your side instead.
His arm brushes against yours. The dark tendrils dancing around his shoulders revel in your proximity, slithering down his arm and coiling around you in a cool embrace. You welcome his shadows, smiling softly when you feel them tug you closer to their master, deliberately enchanting you with the scent of cedar and night chilled mist. It’s as if they don’t want you to leave his side.
“I will,” you finally respond, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him
Azriel’s gaze softens. The tension between you dissipates into something lighter, something magical. The world around seems to fade into darkness, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment that feels both infinite and fleeting. No words are spoken yet so much is said.
Meanwhile, Cassian and Mor exchange a knowing look of their own. The mutual crushing between you and Azriel has been evident to everyone for years. Well, everyone, except for you and Azriel. Mor and Cassian will give you grace, as Azriel can be unreadable at times. But Azriel? The spymaster of the Night Court? How he cannot see your unmistakable crush on him is beyond them.
“Be safe,” Cassian says, mocking Azriel’s tone.There’s a mischievous gleam in his hazel orbs as he gazes down at Mor, pouting his lips in an exaggerated manner. 
Mor’s eyes light up, mirroring Cassian’s mischief. She leans in toward Cassian’s shoulder–the very same way you’re doing with Azriel. Except, she wraps her arms around Cassian’s larger one, resting her head on his chest. “I’ll be so safe,” she cooes, voice like velvet.
Azriel feels the heat rising to his neck. He turns to Cassian and Mor, gaze darkening with an icy glare. “Stop,” he warns but it only encourages the two further.
They continue to hug each other and make kissing sounds. A blush creeps up your cheeks and you seek solace in Azriel’s arm, burying your face against it. Azriel’s wing instinctively curls around your form in a protective manner. Were you being that obvious? Your answer is immediately given as your hands gravitate towards each other once more.
 “Stop it! Or I’m going to kill you!”
Cassian pulls Mor even closer. His brows furrow, softening his expression as he directs his pout toward Azriel. “But how would that keep us safe?”
None of you will be safe if you keep delaying y/n. Helion does not like to be kept waiting, echoes an all too familiar voice–Rhys’s– through your minds. He leaves your mind as quickly as he entered it, lingering only in Azriel’s long enough to add: Let her go.
Azriel blinks, not realizing that throughout the teasing, his fingers had intertwined with yours. He turns his attention back to you, reluctantly releasing your hand. A sheepish expression takes over his features as he brings the hand that had been holding yours to rub the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t help but worry when you’re not home,” Azriel admits quietly.
Mor and Cassian both let out a sound that Azriel is quick to stifle with his shadows. 
“It’s only for a week,” you assure him as you open the door and step outside. You feel a flicker of anticipation tingling in your veins as you prepare to winnow. You turn back to face Azriel and your friends one more time.
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?”
But I miss you already, Azriel thinks as he feels a strange stirring awakening deep in his chest. His shadows buzz around him in excitement. 
“Bye, y/n. Have fun but not too much fun!” Cassian calls out to you in mock warning over Azriel’s right shoulder.
Mor peeks out from Azriel’s left shoulder and winks at you. “But if you do find yourself having too much fun, call for me, okay?” 
“Sure,” you agree and Azriel fails to notice the reciprocated teasing in your tone.
He’s too busy glancing between Cassian and Mor, hazel eyes wary. His shadows whisper to him, confirming the suggestiveness of their words. Uneasiness settles into his stomach, causing his entire body to tense up.
He’s familiar with the flirtatious nature of the High Lord of the Day Court. Too familiar that he can already dreadfully anticipate the sweet words Helion will shower you with. His shadows stir, excitement morphing into panic. What if you fall victim to Helion’s charm?
Suddenly, he hates the idea of you going to Day. 
As your gazes meet once more, an unseen force seems to settle into place. His eyes widen in realization, his mouth parting to utter your name, but it’s too late. You’re already winnowing away and he lurches forward, after you, pulled by the golden threads that have wildly unfurled within his chest.
Mate. You're his mate.
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note: I did not know how to end this so please don't come for me for ending it like this lol. Just know that Az is winnowing away to join you in Day Court right after. I hope you enjoyed! <3
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria
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sincerelyneo · 1 day
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touch tank | l.hc
“he's so pretty when he goes down on me, gold-skinned eager baby”
💿now playing: touch tank by quinnie
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❯ summary: Hyuck just can’t understand it. Why don’t you want to sit on his face?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut
❯ words: 3.0k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, oral sex (fem receiving), face sitting, nipple play, male masturbation, brief hair pulling, mention of death as a joke, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan always being pussy drunk agenda
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“What’s the big deal?”
Your boyfriend asks the question nonchalantly - as though you’re being completely unreasonable - which in some capacity maybe you are. But it’s not your fault. He may call it unreasonable, you would call it being cautious.
“Well for starters I’m not particularly keen on the idea of me suffocating you,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
Hyuck doesn’t listen - that’s not true - he’s hearing you but he thinks your excuses are ridiculous. You can tell by the way he’s still trying to kiss the skin on your neck down to the centre of your chest, and teasing the neckline of your tank lower until the edge is resting along the tops of your breasts.
“You won’t suffocate me,” he promises, shifting down to nuzzle further underneath your shirt until the tip of his nose nudges your nipple, which has already hardened from just a few of his kisses. You shiver, gasping when his lips catch on your skin.
“Considering how wet I make you, I’d be more likely to drown than suffocate baby,” he teases, his smirk visible just before his mouth opens around your nipple.
He sucks gently, ever so sweetly, just light enough to make you whine. When he talks again, it’s right against your skin.
“And now that I’m thinking about it, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go, and I think it would be kinda hot to have that on my headstone.”
You scoff out a laugh, “you’re unbelievable.”
This time you feel his smile on your nipple right before he bites down softly, making your head fall back.
You know what he’s doing - he’s good at this - making you feel so fucking amazing that your mind goes foggy. So, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head, and try to regain your focus on the situation at hand.
“What if I fall over?” You protest.
The rebuttal sounds weak - even to you. And when Hyuck slips his arm around your waist and pulls until you settle onto your side; you know it sounds weak to him too.
He starts to suck another gentle kiss over your nipple before trailing down over your belly, pushing your top up in contrast to the lower he goes. You squirm when his lips touch your bare stomach, clenching your thighs together tightly to try and dull the throbbing that’s started in your clit.
“You won’t,” he replies, slowly. “It’s just like riding my dick, and you know how to do that pretty damn well.”
Your voice betrays you, and you whimper under your breath before you can even think to hold it back. When you look down at Hyuck, he’s smiling lazily at you, like he knows he’s already won.
“But that’s different,” you insist, keeping your legs closed tight when his fingers try to sneak between them. “Your dick is supposed to get wet when we have sex. That’s the whole point.”
“Who says my tongue doesn’t want that either?” He murmurs, curving his spine down to kiss along the band of your panties. You groan - half in frustration and half in arousal - when he succeeds in stroking a fingertip against your clit; he circles it lightly, using as much room as you allow him.
“C’mon,” he tries again, voice pitched low and inviting. He drags his lips down to where his fingers are and starts kissing there instead, increasingly persistent, nuzzling up against your clit through your panties until you give in and open your legs for him. When you try to tilt your body to lie on your back again, Hyuck hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls you towards him instead, “Not like that, baby, over me, c’mon.”
“Hyuck,” you whine; you reach down to get a grip on his hair, hiding your face in your now bent elbow.
He doesn’t bother with removing the barrier of panties just yet, sucking with enough pressure for you to feel it through them. You move your hips against his mouth in tiny motions, pushing forward against his lips, and you know you're already fucking soaking, you can feel it if you shift in just the right direction to meet his mouth.
Only seconds pass before Hyuck pulls you closer again, this time slowly rolling himself onto his back as well, but you resist swinging your outer leg over to straddle his face like he wants, digging your nails into his scalp instead.
Hissing at the pain, Hyuck arches his neck to lick along the crease of your thigh. He loses his patience, curling his fingers around your panties and tugging them down, “At least let me see you, yeah?”
You flush at just the thought of him being so close to you and paying so much attention, like he always does. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s pulling your underwear off your legs, and tossing them down at your feet.
He kisses the inside of your thigh and the line of your hip before settling firmly on his back, looking up at you hopefully. You groan again, fully out of frustration this time, and irritably pull his hair. “You’re not giving up then?”
“Nope,” he says. He looks more aroused than he usually does by now, his chest rising with his heavier breaths. “God loves a trier.”
“Wish he didn’t,” you mumble.
You bring both hands up to your face and push your hair away from your forehead, clenching your thighs again before shifting up onto your knees, watching Hyuck’s eyes move down between your legs as you settle over his face.
He isn’t subtle, spreading you with his thumbs and looking over you. Your muscles clench on their own when you think about what he might see. He swears quietly to himself, and you wonder if it’s visible how wet you already are or if he’ll have to feel it to find out.
“C’mere, babe,” he says, keeping you open, still watching between your legs. He looks up to your face when you squirm, “can’t reach, I wanna taste you.”
“God, shut up.”
You lean forward, putting all your weight on your hands that are braced against the mattress, and slowly spread your thighs wider, muscles shaking already. Hyuck moves his hands to your hips and helps you ease down, leaning up to meet you at first, tongue already waiting to press flat against your clit. You gasp in surprise and jerk your hips forward before drawing up again, away from his mouth, but he tightens his grip on you.
“Shh, c’mon,” he says, easy and coaxing, “relax and c’mere.”
You tense as he pulls you back down to his mouth, but he gives you warning this time, turning his head to let his lips trail along the inside of your thigh before slowly making his way between your legs again, kissing your clit gently. It’s easier this time, and you try to let yourself relax.
The position just feels dirty to you, your breasts hanging heavy where you’re bent forward, nipples brushing against your top. Hyuck’s hands soothing on your body, sliding from your hips up your sides and back down, and you let yourself moan quietly when he gives your clit another soft lick.
“Yeah, that’s better,” he murmurs; you echo him, a quiet yeah that sounds more pleading than you expect.
He hooks his fingers around where your hips bend into your thighs, lowering his head back to the mattress to encourage you to drop down even more. You feel flushed and hot along nearly your entire body, especially right between your legs when you give in and inch down further, seeking out his tongue again. With your head hanging down, it’s hard to look anywhere but his face; he looks back, fitting his lips around your clit when you reach his mouth. He sucks softly, tilting his head back more, and the first touch of his chin against your cunt makes you blush deeper.
For his part, Hyuck just sighs against you and closes his eyes, flexing his fingers on your hips and slipping his tongue over your clit while it’s inside his mouth. You gasp and dig your nails into the mattress, tempted to move a hand down to hold onto his hair. But you need both hands for balance, keeping yourself relaxed while Hyuck pulls you down closer to him with gentle little tugs.
Honestly, it feels nothing at all like riding his cock; with his cock, you know then that you can bear down with as much weight as you like, know that he’ll push right back up and meet you. Like this, you’re shaky and unsure of how heavily you can settle down over his mouth, and he’s hardly giving you a chance to think it through. He keeps his tongue flat against you but slides it down from your clit until he can push the tip inside your cunt just enough to tease. You moan softly and try to roll your hips forward, wanting something deep enough to clench around, but Hyuck holds you still.
“Like that?” He asks, and you groan, squirming down against his lips when he kisses you there, thumbs going back to holding you open so he can lick inside.
You know you don’t need to answer his question - he knows your body better than you do - but you reply anyway with a strangled curse, shifting your hips to grind against the flat of his tongue now that his hands can’t hold you still. He moans softly against you, trailing off into a hum as he sucks a kiss over your clit.
“Keep doing that,” he mumbles, words vibrating against you, “move like that, make yourself cum.”
Your breath leaves you in a rush and you bend closer to the mattress, elbows going momentarily weak.
You pant; sounding desperate as you obey him. He starts sliding his hands from your hips up your stomach and under your top to give you free rein of your movements.
It’s hotter than you expected it to be, moving to rub your clit against Hyuck’s tongue. He reaches up far enough to pinch both your nipples between his fingers, just tight enough that there’s a tug when you roll your hips forward, shoulders pulling back. When you push forward far enough to get the tip of his tongue nestled inside you, you can feel his nose nudging your clit; you stay like that for a moment, rocking down against the pointed end of his tongue before you give in, whining.
“In me, put it in me deeper.”
Hyuck groans louder against you now, pinching your nipples tighter. “So fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, tilting his head back and slipping his tongue inside as deep as it’ll let him go.
“Keep your hands there,” you instruct, and he pinches again as a reply, gentler this time. Ignoring any leftover uncertainty, you straighten your back to sit up and free your hands, immediately cradling his head.
You can feel his heavy breaths against you every time he pulls his tongue back to lick his lips. It becomes easier to take control of the situation. You find, Hyuck doesn’t seem to protest when he’s like this, licking over and inside with eagerness each time you urge yourself closer to his mouth.
The slow climb to your orgasm starts when he forgets your earlier request and heads back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a slick sound that’s loud. You let your head tilt back into the feeling, the ends of your hair tickling the curve of your spine.
“Don’t stop,” you breathe, not even sure if he hears you over his own encouraging hums. The vibrations are subtle but just enough for you to rock into, twisting your fingers tight into his hair and holding on as you move to keep his head in place.
Using Hyuck’s mouth to actually work yourself up to cumming is much more like riding his cock. The motions feel the same: thighs flexing, hips tilting for the best angle, fighting to keep your balance. It might even be better than riding him, with the firm suction and Hyuck’s soft tongue, knowing that he’s conserving his breaths for you, wanting to make you cum more than he wants anything else at the moment.
His hands have strayed down at your ribs, fingers digging in to hold onto you like you’re holding onto him, and his steadying grip along with the constant pull on your clit is what makes you finally lose it.
You let yourself groan out loud when it first hits, grinding down hard into his mouth, trusting him to know how much you can take while you ride it out. It becomes too intense in seconds, your sensitivity ramping up so quickly that you can’t keep up with it, but Hyuck pulls his mouth away as soon as you whimper, dragging his nails down your sides.
“Fuck,” he groans. He works one arm under your thigh to reach for his dick, and you feel his shoulder shaking underneath you right away.
You’re panting, still hovering over his mouth; he’s wet down to his chin, lips parted and slick. It’s a bit of a rush to look down at him and watch his eyes open to find yours, dropping back down between your legs while he touches himself.
You smile hazily, “Think you liked that more than I did, and I’m the one came.”
“I might’ve,” he agrees, his voice tight.
Wanting to give him a show, you release your grip on his hair to touch yourself, fingers slipping down until you inch one inside, deeper and more solid than Hyuck’s tongue was, but jolting from the sensitivity. You’re close enough to his face that your knuckles brush his damp chin, and he tucks his head down to kiss the backs of your fingers.
“Don’t tease me,” he says.
“Who’s teasing?” You ask, as playful as you can sound with your breath still panting fast.
Your original hesitance about the position isn’t even at the back of your mind now, not with Hyuck’s chest heaving under your weight and his eyes flicking fast over your body like he isn’t sure where to look.
“You could let me taste again,” he tries, tilting his head to the side to rub his face up against your inner thigh. You feel his arm move quicker, like just the idea is helping bring him off. It’s not an idea you oppose, judging from the small burst of arousal you feel when he kisses your skin and licks between breaths.
“That good, is it?”
You take in another one of your fingers and let them sink deeper, still sensitive enough to draw a gasp. Hyuck doesn’t respond, just keeps his hand moving and looks up at your face, barely starting to tremble the closer he gets.
When you slip your fingers out, you re-tighten your grip on his hair. His eyes are losing focus, but still trying to stay open to watch you. The sheen on his lips still glistens, so you drag your fingertip along his bottom lip and only get halfway across his mouth before he opens to suck them inside. He finally stops delaying the inevitable and shuts his eyes.
You hardly ever see your boyfriend like this, his body language edging on desperate. His cock is flushed darkest at the head and nearly as wet as you are, a little pool of pre-cum gathers on his stomach. The hand not jerking himself now is gripping your thigh tightly enough to leave indentations around his fingertips, and his toes are curled in on themselves; his whole body is wound so tightly, muscles straining.
He keeps sucking at your fingers sharply, letting them muffle any noises he makes.
“Didn’t know you’d like this so much,” you say, “next time I’ll turn around so I can suck your cock too.”
Much like before, just the idea is enough for Hyuck; he freezes just as his orgasm starts, then moans around your fingers, mouth going slack even as his hand keeps working fast. You hook your fingers gently over the bottom set of his teeth and rub your thumb over his jaw.
Just as you’re about to contort yourself enough to lean down and kiss him, you feel a hot splash against your back and you gasp, even as Hyuck’s eyes stay closed tightly.
“Oh my god,” you say, dragging your fingers from his mouth and over his chin, waiting until he opens his eyes to continue. “If you got cum on my shirt, I take back my offer.”
Hyuck’s laugh leaves him before he can help it, more of a giggle with little power behind it. “Payback,” he pants, “for being so difficult.”
“I was thinking of you in my protests,” you argue.
He ignores you. “Well for someone who didn’t wanna come up here like this you sure don’t seem to wanna move now.”
“That’s because, I know when I move we’re going to have to clean up. Also I’m in a position of power like this.”
Attempting to use that supposed position of power, you rise to your knees and finally pull off your top completely, dropping it unceremoniously on Hyuck’s head before letting out a giggle of your own.
“Speaking of which, you can do laundry today,” you say.
“Only if you let me fuck you on the washing machine,” he counters, mimicking your tone. He makes no move to pull the cloth from his face.
“Hyuck!” You snap; he shrugs animatedly, making up for the lack of visible facial expression. After a beat, you relent, “I suppose those vibrations probably would be nice.”
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shuashuagirl · 2 days
Text
The Most Dangerous Game
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Title: The Most Dangerous Game 2k+ words
Summary:
You two know you shouldn’t do it. But here you were. Doing it anyways. Playing the most dangerous game that two exes could ever play.
Warnings: dubcon (because why not ok), impact play, degradation (because I am unwell), creampie, very unprotected sex (wrap it if you’re going to tap it), spit kink, lots of fluids, very mean jeonghan, toxic toxic toxic, very rough sex
-
You and Jeonghan knew that you were playing a dangerous game. It wasn’t healthy for you two to still be friends. Not after the breakup. Not after the months that you two had spent arguing with one another, mentally tormenting each other until finally you had both agreed that you would be better off if you went your separate ways-
But going separate ways was much easier said than done when you two had shared a friend group since your freshmen year of college.
And the exposure. The loneliness. The urge to find anyone to sleep with and grasp at any semblance of a relationship was too alluring for the two of you to even try to evade.
“Can’t here,” you breathed in, as Jeonghan pressed you into the wall. He rolled his eyes at your comment, his fingers dipping under your shirt.
“Can’t?” He asked you. You shivered as his cool fingers met your warm stomach and you leaned into his touch. He laughed at the obvious way that your body reacted to his touch.
“They’ll hear,” you pleaded lightly.
“So, we can’t?” Jeonghan pressed again. His fingers began to dip under the waist hand of your pants, his other hand coming to pin you against the wall by your hips. “Or you won’t?”
You bit down on your lip, eyes rolling back as Jeonghan’s fingers found your clit, and your soaked pussy.
“Cause it seems like you do want to.”
You groaned, your fingers wrapping around the part of his arm that you could hold.
“I- Want to,” you agreed with a nod. You decided you needed to rephrase. “We shouldn’t.”
“If we shouldn’t then why have you been acting like a clingy whore since you got here?”
You wanted to disagree with him, but his condescending tone was going straight to your core. You shook your head, but your mouth wasn’t getting the memo.
“It’s your fault,” you insisted. You grabbed at his shirt, fisting your fingers into it. “You know this shirt drives me crazy.”
“It’s just a shirt,” Jeonghan said innocently, and his fingers dipped into your burning, wet pussy.
“The collar is all stretched out,” you snapped back. “And it shows your stupid collarbone-”
“Y/n you’re so kinky,” Jeonghan teased, as if he didn’t know. “And that gives you the excuse huh? To be grinding with that stranger on the dance floor. Knowing it would drive me crazy when you started to strip off your jacket-”
“Maybe I was just doing that for myself,” you bit back. “Maybe I’m tired of fucking around with you all the time as if you are even my best option.”
Wrong choice of words. Jeonghan’s hands pulled out of your pants, and his hand slapped across your face in an instance. He immediately clasped your chin in his grip, the wetness you had soaked his fingers with now on your cheek.
“I am your best option,” he practically growled. “You will never fuck anyone who makes you feel as good as I make you feel. That’s why you grinded with that fucking man. That’s why you always come crawling back. That’s why your pussy is always soaked when I decide to fuck you. Because even though we are broken up you are still mine.”
He knew every single button to push. Knew exactly how to get your blood pumping through your body.
“Can’t,” he reiterated roughly. “Or won’t.”
“Will,” you gasped out. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Fuck me, okay?”
Jeonghan pressed his fingers into your mouth with a scoff.
“Fucking ridiculous the way an insult makes your little cunt cry for attention. You sucked his fingers until he ripped them from your mouth.
“Clothes off,” he pressed. You immediately began to tear your clothes off, and you pouted as you realized that Jeonghan wasn’t taking off his.
“Jeonghan, ple-”
“What? Take off my clothes too?” He said, his voice full of fake sympathy. “My collarbone started this didn’t it? Then my collarbone will continue to do it for you.”
He walked up to you, and forcibly pressed you to your knees. You groaned as your knees hit the floor, knowing for sure you would have bruises the next day.
He tapped your head impatiently with his index finger.
“Well? Get it out.”
You reached forward, your fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. He grabbed your hand in a tight grip.
“Just the zipper.”
You swallowed hard and nodded.
“Okay.”
Your tongue was dry as you pulled down his zipper, reach into his pants to pull his cock out. Once it was out, Jeonghan had wrapped a hand around it. He gave it a few small pumps and then with a sound of aggravation tapped it to your lips.
“Well?” He said again, and you could tell that your little show had made him a lot more impatient than he usually was. You leaned forward to catch his cock with your mouth, but he pulled himself away from you and hit you with the base of it.
You couldn’t help the moan of frustration that left your mouth, but you tried to catch it in your mouth again regardless. Once again, he pulled himself away from you and hit you again with his cock. When you whined this time, he had the audacity to huff out in annoyance.
“What the fuck is taking you so long?”
This time when you darted forward, you were able to slip his tip into your mouth.
“Hold-”
You did as you were told, your eyes flitting up to Jeonghan. He smiled sickly at you.
“So good when you finally have what you want in your reach.”
Your eyes flitted closed and suddenly his cock was out of your mouth, and you were hit with it again, this time getting spit on your forehead.
“Eyes on me,” he snapped, and your eyes were back on him. Your mouth dropped open before he could tell you to, and a small hum of appreciation ran through him as he laid the base of his cock on your tongue. You felt the weight of him, able to see the length of him in your peripheral.
Such a stupid long and fat cock. You really did go crazy for it. It genuinely made you fucking stupid when it was inside of you. Jeonghan made you fucking stupid when he was fucking you.
“Good…” Jeonghan mumbled, mostly to himself. His hand came to your hair, at first seeming to caress you with his fingers, before they tightened in the strands of your hair and you were forced down all the way to the base of his cock.
You coughed out in surprise at the sudden presence of his cock so deep in your throat that you couldn’t really focus on anything else. Jeonghan pulled you off for just a second so that you could catch your breath, and once he saw that you had relaxed again, once he knew you were prepared, he was forcing you all the way back to his base again.
This time you focused on breathing in through your nose, you didn’t choke, but a gruesome gurgling sound filled the dirty bathroom as Jeonghan pulled back again, his cock already slick with your saliva.
He didn’t say anything as he brutally ravaged your throat. Using it like it had been weeks since he had gotten the chance to get his dick wet. In reality, it had been only a few days. But his moans made it seem different.
You knew from experience that if Jeonghan was fucking your throat like this, then he wasn’t going to waste time prepping you for his cock when he was ready to fuck you. You began to pump your fingers in and out of yourself in pace with his thrusts, your own moans being gurgled and ripped out of your throat as he used you like a toy.
One of your hands rose to his jeans as you felt his cock pulsing in your throat. You balled your fingers in the material in anticipation for his cum in your throat- and just as anticipated he was coming inside of you practically instantly.
He pulled his cock out of your mouth, and you coughed some of his cum up as you struggled to catch your breath. Jeonghan watched you, chest heaving, pumping himself back to hardness. You made sure that all the cum you coughed up ended in your hand, and once you had completely caught your breath you made sure Jeonghan saw you lick the cum back up off of your hand.
He rolled his eyes, but tugged at your hair regardless, pulling you right back to your feet. As soon as you were up his lips were on yours, his hand shifting to the back of your neck so that he could kiss you without you moving much under him.
You whined against his lips, body melting under his touch, letting him overpower you in every single way. One of his hands snuck around your body, his hand squeezing your tits distractedly. That drew his attention away from the kiss, and his lips left yours allowing you the chance to catch your breath with a large gasp.
The two of you started to stagger back until your back hit the wall. Jeonghan’s head tilted down, his lips finding your neck. You wanted to tell him not to leave any marks, but his free hand squeezed your ass and your eyes fluttered shut, lost in the feeling.
This was why you loved fucking him so much. The degradation always left your blood pumping, it caused your core to burn in a way that was almost painful, and left your thighs wet from your dripping arousal. But the way that he praised your body proved to you that his words, his belittlement of you was just another way to get you there.
His teeth nipped at your neck, and an airy moan left your lips. You briefly recalled being worried your friends would hear you, but then his lips were trailing across your neck, and over your breasts and you really didn’t care.
You were sure that Jeonghan could hear your heart pounding in your chest as he cupped your breasts with one hand and sucked on your nipples, but if he did, he didn’t say anything about it.
You were dripping down your thighs by the time that Jeonghan pulled off your chest, your tits dripping with saliva. He gave your ass a hard slap, making you cry out in surprise.
“Why don’t you present to me?” Jeonghan slurred, wiping saliva off of the corner of his lip. Your face burned red, but you struggled to get into place anyways. You placed your hands on the wall, spreading your legs a bit as you arched your back, shoving your ass out for him.
Jeonghan slapped your ass, hard making your whole body jerk. He smoothed over your ass.
“If I had all day, I would spank you so hard you couldn’t sit straight tomorrow,” Jeonghan mumbled. The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance. “But instead, I think I’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight.”
“Condom,” you spat out in response, as if either of you gave two shits about it.
“You’d be so lucky, to get knocked up by me,” Jeonghan said back and to emphasize it he pulled you back by your hair and spit on your face. Your eyes instinctively squeezed shut as it hit your cheek. “Finally have me locked down for life.”
But he hesitated, his fingers loosening their grip on your hair, the tip of his cock just barely touching your pussy. You let your forehead fall forward and hit the wall.
“No condom,” you agreed, and his cock was in you in an instant. A desperate cry left your lips as he thrust his entire length into your pussy. The angle made it feel like he was literally splitting you open and feeling him pushing so deep inside of you had your thighs shaking.
Jeonghan grabbed you by your waist, and his other hand came around your throat. He squeezed at it, causing your gasps to come ragged.
“I thought you said that you didn’t want anyone to hear,” Jeonghan grunted. You whined, and it earned you another squeeze. “Y/n, fucking shut up.”
His hand raised blindly to your face, and he slapped his hand over your mouth. Your eyes shut in pleasure, as you moaned shamelessly into the palm of his hand. Your hands kept sliding against the surface of the wall, because Jeonghan was fucking you so hard you could barely keep yourself upright.
Still, his voice didn’t echo how hard he was fucking you.
“God, whores are all the same,” he grunted out. “Put your mouth to good use.”
His fingers pushed into your mouth, and you briefly gagged on them, spit dribbling all over his fingers and down your chin.
“All you did is fucking tease me, with your perfect body. Your perfect lips, your perfect pussy…” A groan left Jeonghan’s mouth, and he removed his fingers from your mouth so that he could more securely grab you by your waist. It made his thrusts even sharper, it made his cock go even deeper.
You were moaning shamelessly, unable to muffle yourself if you wanted to, and it was just making Jeonghan fuck you harder.
“Fuck y/n, I miss your body so bad,” he groaned out. “I need to be buried in your pussy everyday all the fucking time. You were made for me. You were made for my cock.”
You started babbling your agreement, but he wasn’t even listening to your words.
“Going to cum deep inside of you,” Jeonghan mumbled. “I’m going to cum so deep inside of you that you’re going to feel my cum sloshing around your womb for weeks.”
Any qualms that you had from earlier were completely forgotten in your sex-drunk brain. You nodded, immediately begging Jeonghan for him to do exactly that and it just spurred him on.
His hips started to stutter, his cock pulsing inside of you and true to his words he buried himself deep in your pussy, his hot cum shooting so deep inside you that you thought you were going to explode.
Your body went week in his arms as your own orgasm ripped through your body, milking his cock of the rest of his cum. And as soon as your body had stopped shaking as much Jeonghan gave you a few sharp thrusts, to make sure that his cum really was deep inside of you.
Once he was sure, he pulled himself out of you and you crumbled to your knees, chest heaving. Your face hit the floor, your ass pointed straight up in the air. Jeonghan took advantage of this angle to give your pussy a good slap.
“Better keep that cum inside of you sweetheart,” he said, dragging out the pet name. He spit, and you felt it hit your pussy. You hissed out in surprise, and refused to move from your spot on the floor. You heard Jeonghan zipping up his own pants and then he was wandering about the bathroom.
You figured he would just leave, but after a few moments he had you by your arm and was pulling you up to your shaking feet. He dragged you over to the sink, and began to dab your face clean with cool water and a paper towel. A hand combed through your hair while the other focused on getting you completely clean.
Once he was satisfied, he pushed your clothes into your hands.
“Get dressed y/n,” he said with a roll of his eyes. You took your clothes, but noticed something cold and metal in your hands as well. You moved to observe the small key that Jeonghan had given you.
“An uber is coming to take you to my place.” His eyes were on himself in the mirror. He pretended to be checking his hair. “I’ll be there soon after you. Take a shower. I’ll get us takeout okay?”
You nodded wordlessly, but he hovered.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He waved his hand off as if to disregard you entirely, and then he was gone.
You glanced at yourself in the mirror, thinking maybe it would have been better if Jeonghan would just leave it at that. The rough fucking, the meaningless sex.
Because the aftercare… You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts from your hair.
This truly was a dangerous game that you two were playing, and that echoed through your head until you and Jeonghan settled into his bed for the night, his arms wrapped around your torso, his face in your neck.
You had never slept in a better bed.
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cupidsdolll · 2 days
Text
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word count: 1.1k
summary: harry’s angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyone’s problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm
notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.
masterlist
- - - -
To say that Harry’s been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. He’s been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, he’s grumpy and snappy with everybody and he’s even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. It’s his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.
“Goddamn! Fuck!” He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming — encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course he’d do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes
He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesn’t know if it’ll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He can’t bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this would’ve happened if he’d been paying more attention, if they would’ve stayed home or better yet if he’d never given her his number.
He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he can’t do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just can’t wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.
“Don’t you all have a fucking job to do? This isn’t Barbie’s show where we all sit around and look pretty.” He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.
He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He can’t look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.
The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. It’s no use though, he’s mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.
“Well, well, well. Not happy to see me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, he’s always amused at their useless attempts.
“Now, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.” He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.
“So you don’t want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer… but since you don’t think that’s fair.. you’ll be stuck here.” He says and he watches as more tears fall from the man’s eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. He’ll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and he’s been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.
He pulls himself back as he smiles, he’s gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.
“Who wanted my girl dead and why?” He asks and the man shakes his head.
“I don’t know man!” He says through his tears and shakes his head as if he’s disappointed.
“Such a shame.” He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.
“Maybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you don’t answer and I’m not satisfied with the answer I’ll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?” The man cries and shakes his head.
“Please man, I’m serious! I don’t know anything!” He cries out and Harry sighs.
“Already onto a bad start, my friend.” He says as he yanks the man’s jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJ’s voice rings out.
“Hey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, it’s important.” Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. He’d hate to have to fire him.
“Uh, I’m busy. Tell them I’ll call back later.” Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.
“It’s the hospital, Y/N. She’s alive.”
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daddyricsdoll · 3 hours
Note
So first of all congrats to your 1kkkk😭❤️
And so for the blurb Like maybe prompt
“Don’t make me pull over or I’ll fuck you till you can’t speak.” And “let me take your innocence” With Charles Leclerc
Would love ittt❤️
Oh thank youuuu!! And yes... I'm back?
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
“Please mon amour.” Charles grunts, keeping a deadly grip on the steering wheel as he drives through the thin roads of Monaco. 
“But Cha, I thought you wanted me to look pretty. Make them jealous, show me off.” I say so innocently, playing with the hem of my skin tight short dress.
“I-fuck, not now and not like that.” He focuses back on the road. Clenching his jaw and placing one of his hands on my thigh. Massaging my skin with warm hands but a contrast of his cold rings. 
His gesture usually sweet but I knew his tight hold on me was for a different reason.
“I didn’t even wear any panties for you.” Muttering the words quietly and watching Charles as he bites his lip. 
“Don’t make me pull over or I’ll fuck you till you can’t speak.” Charles spits out, eyes burning holes of lust into my body. 
“What makes you think I don’t want that?” I grab ahold of his hand, dragging it further up my burning hot thigh. Forcing his thick fingers to go beneath the fabric of my dress and between my thighs. 
“Fuck, why you being such a brat tonight?” Charles questions as he makes a sharp turn before pulling over. Still not enough time for me to answer, knowing all too well he didn’t expect one from me, but I had to ask myself that too. Maybe it’s the way those thick glasses perfectly sit atop his nose and make a tear drip down my leg. Or maybe his suit and how his veiny hands leave you wondering what’s underneath all that fabric. Is his touch as good as he looks? Is it as smooth as his voice or as rough as the short stubble on his flawless face. 
“Don’t move.” He commands of me. Rushing out of his door to get to mine. Opening it quickly and letting the door slowly rise, gradually revealing the man behind it. 
“Cha-”
“Mon amour, you know it’s so hard,” Charles places his hands on each of my cheeks to kiss my lips. Letting his arms drop to soon grab my hips and pull me out of his Ferrari.
“to not touch you when you do that.” Closing the door behind me and leaving no space between us like positive and negative forces. 
“I do it for you Charles, it’s so hard to act like I don’t crave you.” I breathe against his neck, a charm of hummingbirds singing in my stomach as I fill my nose in his parfum. 
“Oh mon amour… then let me take your innocence. Let me have you.”
Charles whispers, bringing his head in front of mine so we can see each other directly. It was as if he took the blue from the sky and placed it into his eyes, giving it a reason to be in hues of pink, orange and yellow. 
“Always.” I answer in a whisper that’s barely audible. But it’s perfect for his ears, not needing another word to be said in advance to finally raising my dress. Bringing it to my stomach and giving Charles a perfect view of my truth. 
My panties, nowhere to be seen. And my pussy, oh it was throbbing and dripping. I didn’t have to tell him I needed him, it was obvious from the expression on my face and the silent words my body revealed. 
He caressed my lower abdomen with the tips of his fingers, teasing me and helping me gain composure for the touch I knew I’d get. Dragging them lower and lower until he was a mere nanometer from my folds. Eyes flicking back at me once more. And I open my legs further, a silent gesture to tell him to carry on. 
Immediately making my lips part once Charles makes contact with my folds. Taking no time to find my entrance and pry against it. Gathering my slick and making it easier for him to start sliding one of his thick and long digits inside of me. His finger itself, already stretching my unmarked pussy. 
“Please Cha.” I moan quietly, not asking for anything in particular but just more of his touch. Going insane as he starts thrusting in and out, eventually adding another finger and making it impossible for me to stay quiet. Deep and heavy breaths leaving my mouth, and little curses of his name. He pushes me further against the side of the car, making it seem as though he’s about to kiss me with the small distance between our faces. Instead curling his fingers and rubbing my clit with his calloused palm. 
Allowing me to wallow into the feeling of his hand. Making my imagination seem pathetic. Even as I close my eyes I still see Charles. Trying to just focus on the sensation of his hand but his painfully beautiful face always needs attention. Forcing my hand to grab the back of his neck and close the gap between us. His soft lips fused against mine. Tasting sweeter than honey and more addicting than a drug. I couldn’t stop. Pulling his bottom lip between mine, sucking on it before Charles takes the dominance again. Biting my lip and making it more than impossible to part. Not even giving me the opportunity to moan from pleasure. But still somehow, Charles knew I was on the verge of my release. Arching my back and helplessly falling into Charles. Nearly crying as I came around his fingers. 
His name leaving my swollen lips endlessly, just for me to finally gain clearer vision again and see Charles unbuttoning his pants with one hand. His other fingers that were recently inside of me, now being twirled by his tongue, between his silky lips.
“Amour,” I call him by my own nickname. “I can’t, you were so fucking good before, I can’t take more.”
“I know you can, and… I haven’t taken your innocence yet.” Charles states, just as he lowers pants and I grow all the lust I had before, even more. Opening my legs wider and seeming like a delirious woman who craves what she can ultimately have. 
“Fuck, take it. Take it all.”
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leilani-lily · 2 days
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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 7)
Apologies for the delay, life has been a lil busy for me lately. Lots going on, and only more to happen. My introverted battery is crying ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧
This chapter's a lil shorter than some of the others, but it's for the best. The next one I have planned is gonna be a 2 parter. And it'll be a whopper. Wish me luck hehe! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Synopsis: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. It's time for the daily meeting amongst the hotel staff and guests. You're feeling particularly exhausted, and before you know it, you fall asleep. What you don't realize is what kind of chaos it causes afterwards… Word count: 3.7 k
Chapter under the cut!
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“What if we offad a free bag o ‘Hero-In’ tada first 50 custamers?”
Charlie blinked in bewilderment down at the Spider Demon, not sure if he was actually being serious. The other resident demons either nodded in agreement or weren’t even paying attention to the conversation, blinking tiredly and eyes glazed over. Vaggie groaned in frustration at the apparent lack of brains in this hotel.
“Por el amor de Dios.” she muttered under her breath, dragging her face down with her hand. “Angel. We can’t offer drugs to encourage more guests to the hotel. That goes against, like, everything we’re even doing here.” She gestures to the hotel lobby, where you were all sitting on various armchairs and couches. It was one of your daily meetings where Charlie rounded up all the demons and tried to come up with strategies on how to recruit more sinners. Her and Vaggie were standing before you all, a chalkboard behind them with… some pretty terrible suggestions scribbled on it (and a faded dick drawing done by a certain 8 limbed demon). Said sinner looked around his settings before turning back to the silver haired woman, looking at her in confusion.
“Booze?”
“No.”
“Dildos?”
“Jesus. NO.”
“Blowjobs??”
“FOR FUCK SAKES ANGEL!”
“Whaaaat? Sounds like a good deal ta me! Especially if da blowin’s done by a prafessional like yours truly~!” Angel wiggled his chest fur rather sensually towards Vaggie and threw her a wink. The fallen angel slapped her hand against her face in exasperation. 
Now usually this type of banter would have you practically shaking in your seat trying to hold in your laughter. But this time around, all you could muster was a tired chuckle as your eyes ping-ponged between the two. Your early mornings and long days at the hotel were starting to catch up with you, and today in particular was extra exhausting for you. You had spent most of the night reading, too absorbed in the novel to put it down even though you knew how late it was. And now you were paying the price; all you wanted to do was sleep. But then Charlie called this meeting and now you were stuck here, daydreaming of your bed. 
“W-well Angel, I’m afraid I have to agree with Vaggie on this,” Charlie piped up, awkwardly looking between her partner and friend, “But I am LOVING the participation and enthusiasm! Good job!” She clapped cheerfully to Angel, trying so hard to encourage his good habits, even if his suggestions were questionable. Angel clicked his teeth at Charlie while shooting a finger gun, slouching back into his armchair. The Princess of Hell turned back to the group, her expression a mix of determination and desperation. 
“Alright everyone, what else do we got? Come on, let’s keep the creative juices flowing!”
Other demons' voices droned on in response, but you could feel your brain shutting down as they faded to muffled noise. You were seated comfortably on one of the couches, feeling yourself being swallowed into the cushy pillows. It was honestly really nice being able to sit on this couch in particular, it was the comfiest of all the furnishing here. 
When you had first arrived at the hotel and attended these meetings, you were sitting in one of the armchairs beside Angel. And you had to admit, they were pretty stiff. But at some point, as you and Alastor’s friendship began to grow, the deer demon began inviting you to sit on the couch beside him, and even began saving you the seat before anyone else could take it. What more, would even begin to shoot glares at demons if they attempted to take it before you had arrived.
You had caught wind and scolded your friend for a moment, but he insisted with how much work you were doing, you deserved the cushy spot more than anyone else. And that just so happened to be beside him. You had eyed him suspiciously but didn’t argue further; it really was a nice couch. Now it was just known fact that you and the Radio Demon always sat together, and others didn’t even attempt to sit there anymore. 
Beside you, Alastor watched as your body sank into the couch and brought a hand up to stifle a yawn. His eyebrow quirked up in amusement, but he didn’t attempt to try and keep you awake.  He could tell this meeting wasn’t going anywhere; there was no point in forcing you to participate. Instead, his pupils slid back to the group of demons in front of him. Somehow Nifty and Sir Pentious had gotten into an argument, and Vaggie was yelling over them to shut up and stay focused. Alastor’s smile creaked up eerily, reveling in the chaos unfolding before him. Charlie looked at her business partner, a semblance of despair in her eyes.
“Alastor,” she practically begged, “Please tell me you have some suggestions that we could actually use?” 
Alastor gave a hearty laugh as he waved a hand at her.
“Oh please my dear,” he dismissed, shaking his head and giving her a smug look, “You know very well that I do not participate in such matters. I’m simply here for the entertainment that comes with it~!” He gestures to the three demons arguing in question, as Angel and Husk seemed to be sharing a bowl of popcorn and watched the mayhem. Charlie looked at the group tiredly.
“Besides,” Alastor drawled on, his eyes practically dancing at the chaos before him, “I honestly think-!”
His voice was cut off by the sound of a record player scratching to a halt.
The group of demons that were bickering immediately stopped dead in their tracks at the sudden abnormal sound, their gazes zipping to the Radio Demon. Angel and Husk’s eyes also locked in on the deer demon, a piece of popcorn falling out of Angel’s open mouth.
Alastors was frozen in place as your sleeping form had slumped up against his side. 
The deer demon looked like he was caught in the headlights; His entire face was frozen and eyes wide as dinner plates, smiling mouth still half open in mid speech. His whole body was stiff as a board as his shrunken pupils stared off ahead in shock. 
The room fell quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Every one of the hotel residents were ready to shit themselves, eyes darting between you and Alastor. Anyone that knew the Radio Demon knew how much he despised physical contact not initiated by him. Husk especially was terrified for your sake, fully remembering Alastor practically ripping demons apart limb by limb simply because they looked at him the wrong way. The gambling demon’s fur began to stand up on his neck. This couldn’t be good.
You sighed in your sleep and nuzzled closer into Alastor’s arm, subconsciously seeking out his warmth. All of the onlookers breathed in sharply, Charlie even covering her mouth with her hands to keep herself quiet. The Radio Demon’s eyes slowly slid down to you, carefully tilting his head to get a better look. His eyes looked over you, pupils sharp and calculating as his open mouth creaked shut and grin tight. Everyone watched in horror, unsure what the Overlord was thinking or what he was going to do.
Alastor’s first instinct was to immediately shove you away. But he quickly pushed that thought aside once coming to terms that this was you. As much as he wanted to peel your body off of his, another part was… intrigued. He had never been in this type of situation before, and moreso, with someone he actually found tolerable. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes and mentally tutted you. It was clear you were more exhausted than he had realized, especially given you had fallen asleep amongst all the commotion. And he knew first hand how early you were up everyday; how hard you worked for this hotel. Hell, you were one of the hardest working ones here, besides Charlie and Vaggie. 
Mentally coming to a decision, Alastor’s shoulders began to soften, his body finally beginning to relax under the newfound weight. Your rest was far more important than this silly meeting that wasn’t going anywhere anyways. His chivalrous nature had ultimately won out.
“Hey uh… Smiles…” Angel stuttered, his voice low and cautious as to not wake you, “Ya… Ya got a lil Puddin’ on ya sholda” He pointed to your sleeping form, his eyes darting nervously between you both. Vaggie immediately zipped to the Spider demon and slapped her hand over his mouth, shooting daggers at him before looking nervously at Alastor. Eventually, the Radio Demon’s eyes slid lazily to the group of anxious sinners, his lips curling up in amusement as he observed everyone’s expressions. If you weren’t sleeping on his shoulder he would’ve relished in their horror. Careful not to move too much, he turned his head back to the group.
“Now then,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly low, “If the three of you finished with your ridiculous squabbling… ” He shot Nifty, Sir Pentious, and Vaggie a dirty look, making the three  cower under his judgemental gaze. His eyes narrowed a moment before turning to Charlie.
“Then I believe we should really get back to our brainstorming. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie dearest~?”
The goat demon stared at Alastor in surprise, eyes flicking to you before back to him. Her eyes squinted in confusion at the scene in front of her; Alastor… was allowing this? But she quickly shook it off, realizing he was still waiting for her reply. After blinking a couple times, her eyes lit up with joy as her smile overtook her face.
“YES! Yes of course we-!” 
Alastor’s static crackled dangerously as radio channels shuffled in the background. His scarlet eyes flashed red, shooting Charlie a look of warning. The princess immediately covered her mouth, silencing her thunderous excitement. With a quick clearing of her throat, she continued, her voice softer this time.
“Yes. Right. Everyone, let’s continue from where we left off.”
For the next twenty minutes, the group of demons quietly continued their discussion and strategies. Alastor sat in complete silence, his grin casual and hands in his lap as he sat still. Only his pupils moved as his gaze darted between the sinners. You continued to sleep soundly against the Radio Demon’s shoulder, nuzzling even closer to his warmth and even wrapping your arms around his at one point. He only flinched a moment when he felt your arms trapping his, but he made no other movement; no change in expression. 
As the discussion continued amongst the others, the group couldn’t help but glance at you and Alastor on occasion, still in utter bewilderment at the entire situation. He must have been sick… or an ulterior motive maybe? They all secretly had many inquiries, but none of them dared to question the Overlord. Especially with the way he acted if one of them spoke too loudly. The dangerous hum of static would remind them of their place, and the power he held in this establishment.
Finally, the meeting was adjourned by the Princess of Hell, and everyone began to trickle out of the lobby. Alastor could hear the various murmurs of confusion between the demons as they left to go back to their room, but he ignored them. Little whispers between rats were of no concern to him. Charlie slowly approached the couch, eyes darting between the two figures and smiling sheepishly.
“Do you want me to take her?” she whispered, arms outstretched as if ready to take your sleeping form. But the Radio Demon raised his unshackled hand as if to halt her, shaking his head softly with eyes closed. 
“No need to fret my dear,” he reassured, opening his eyes and giving a gentlemanly smile, “I will see to it that our little chef is taken care of.” 
Charlie hesitated a moment, unsure of what exactly was going through her business partner’s mind. But finally, she nodded her head and tip-toed away, meeting her angelic partner at the elevators. Hand in hand, Charlie and Vaggie left the vicinity, leaving you and Alastor alone in the lobby. 
As silent seconds passed, the Radio Demon’s eyes eventually slid down to your sleeping profile, a mix of amusement and slight curiosity crossing his features. You looked so small, so vulnerable and helpless compared to his tall, powerful form. He watched as your shoulders slowly rose and fell with every breath. Your body was warm against his arm, your head heavy on his shoulder as your entire weight pressed on him. It was a feeling foreign to him; he had never had anyone rest on him in an unconscious state. In all honesty, if baffled him. 
No one had ever seemed so… comfortable around him. The group of demons were scared out of their wits for your safety because of the stories they’d heard. And they had a right to be scared. He was the Radio Demon after all. An all powerful Overlord and a force to be reckoned with. He could strike fear into the heart of any creature, make them fall to their knees and beg for their lives and for his forgiveness. There were only a certain handful that could match his power, and even then that number was dwindling (he would make sure of it). He was a terror. A killer. A living nightmare. And yet…
Here you were, sound asleep on his arm, peaceful and unaware of the position you were in.
Your fingers twitched under his bicep, eyelids fluttering a moment before you stilled again. Clearly you were dreaming about something, and it made Alastor wonder what was going on in that little mind of yours. What was it you dreamed about? Perhaps reliving your life before you descended to Hell? Or maybe… Reliving a memory of when you had spent time with him? Alastor rolled his own eyes at that last question, yet his pride couldn’t help but wonder. Would it be obscured of him to think he could occupy a spot in your mind? 
You stirred a moment against his arm, and Alastor was immediately taken out of his trance. Your face twitched a moment, before scrunching up as if in disgust. Alastor had to catch himself at your expression. Your face eventually settled back into a relaxed state, but a soft, low chuckle still managed to escape the demon’s lips.
Yep. Definitely a dream about him.
Shaking his head mirthfully, 2 long tentacles of shadow began to rise up from the floor. Ever so gently, the shadows lifted your head and body off of Alastor, allowing the deer demon to carefully remove his imprisoned arm from your grasp and stand up. He took a moment to stretch his neck and roll his shoulder around, the stiffness of not moving for nearly half an hour catching up to him. Finally, he turned back to you, still sleeping soundly and being cradled by his shaded tendrils in bridal style. A thought crossed his mind as he looked over at you, taking a moment to evaluate his next move. 
He could very easily snap his fingers and have you transported to your bed. Or have his shadows carefully carry you to your room while he trailed behind. But somehow, despite all of the options he had debated on, he found his arms slowly reaching out underneath you and pulling your body close to his. You immediately curled up closer to him and his warmth, making the Overlord stiffen a moment. But finally, he began to saunter towards the elevators, his shaded tentacles slipping back into the floor.
Of course, being the Hotel’s Facility Manager, he knew exactly where your room was. And obviously, he had a spare key. Using his shadows to unlock the door, he carefully opened the door and stepped inside, stopping a moment to take in his surroundings. He had never actually been in your room before, and he was surprised to discover how fascinated he was about it.
Naturally, it was washed in a deep maroon colour like every other room in this building. It was mostly clean, save for a few articles of clothing scattered around the floor. He simply chuckled softly to himself.  Honestly, what was he going to do with you… 
Your odor was faint in the room, but was still picked up by the demon thanks to his heightened animalistic senses. He took a moment to breathe it in, shocking even himself at how he enjoyed the smell. Like the scent of spring after a chilling, heartless winter, mixed with your own natural musk. He quickly shook his head from his thoughts, suddenly feeling disgusted in himself and his barbaric impulse. 
He noticed an old record player in the corner with various records tucked away. He sauntered over and peeked at the various discs, using his magic to lift them to his face and inspect them. He was impressed with your mix of genres, not at all surprised by the jazz music, but also intrigued by your interest in classical, old fashioned rock and roll, and showtunes. He hummed contently to himself, realizing he could learn a thing or two about you by the contents in your room. And oddly enough, he wanted to learn more. 
Call it the hunter in him. 
You had a large bookshelf similar to his, and he took a moment to browse the titles you had. Mainly cookbooks, which were of no surprise to him, but there were mixes of fantasy and romance as well. 
Romance. Ugh. 
Alastor practically rolled his eyes at some of the disgustingly cheesy titles. How people, women in particular, found this entertaining was beyond him. Especially those who would write about it. 
Pathetic.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made them so popular to begin with. And if they seemed to be something that you in particular enjoyed, then perhaps… he would be willing to give it a second chance. 
One book in particular caught his eye, sticking halfway out from the shelf. Most likely the one you had finished most recently. A green hue pulled it off the shelf as he flipped it open and pursued the contents. After reading a couple sentences, he felt himself stiffen; his eyes widening and smile growing uncomfortable. 
Were all romance novels nowadays so… sultry? He knew sexual activities were popular for most beings. But for Hell’s sake, the novel was practically filth. Instinctively, the book became engulfed in a green flame, burning in seconds. Alastor watched the fires fizz out, ashes of what once was your novel now fluttering and disappearing into thin air.
Hm… hopefully you wouldn’t notice it missing. 
He was learning many things about you with his little scavenge through your room. Things that he found oddly charming. Others he found… debateable. Nevertheless, one good thing could be said about the secrets he had discovered. The Radio Demon’s grin began to widen deliciously at the thought.
He could so use this information against you in the near future. 
You murmured softly against his chest, causing the demon to focus back on you and away from his scheming thoughts. As much as he would’ve loved to continue to snoop around, he knew he had to finish what he had originally come to do. 
With a sigh of contentment, he proceeded to walk to the edge of your bed, once again using his emerald magic to pull the covers back. As gingerly as he could, Alastor lowered you to the bed and carefully removed his arms out from under you. Your one hand had somehow clutched onto the lapel of his jacket, causing him to chuckle before gently unfurling your fingers from his suit. Finally, you had settled in the bed and curled up on yourself, already missing the heat from Alastor’s body. Long, clawed fingers grabbed at the blankets by your feet and pulled them up to your chin, making sure every inch of you was covered and enveloped in the sheets. 
You sighed in your sleep as he pulled his hands away, and Alastor took a moment to take in the sight. Even throughout the meeting, and with all the movement of him picking you up and walking around, you had remained fast asleep. It had simply proven how fatigued you were. His mind flashed back to his mother, remembering how tirelessly she would work to provide for the family, and the many nights when he would catch her sleeping at the kitchen table, bills and notices scattered around her. How helpless he felt as a child, not able to do anything to ease her workload or stress.
He looked down at you, eyes flickering over your sleeping form and feeling something stir inside of him. He couldn’t be there for his mother, not as a weak, impotent child. But he was grown now. And he was strong; practically a God with the power he held over Hell. And he would make sure to repay the debt he owed, one way or another. 
His hand reached out and paused for a second, as if debating. But something urged him on, and his hand found its way to the top of your head. He began to gently pet your hair, feeling the tendrils slide between his fingertips. You hummed in your sleep, causing the deer demon to flinch and ready to sink into the shadows. But then you sighed contently and subconsciously nuzzled your head into his hand, a soft smile curling up before relaxing again.
Unbeknownst to Alastor, his ear twitched. 
He had to stop his own grin from creeping up higher on his face as he continued his previous motions, feeling his body relax and eyes soften. He continued the gentle caresses, embracing the peaceful silence and watching your chest rise and fall with each delicate breath. Eventually, Alastor had felt like he had overstayed his welcome, and slowly removed his hand from your head. As your hair tumbled through his fingers and fell to the pillow, he couldn’t help to lean over and whisper in your ear.
“Sweet dreams, my little songbird~”
He quietly stepped away from your bed, taking a moment to pick up your scattered clothing around the room before placing them in the laundry hamper nearby. And with a final peek to your sleeping form, the Radio Demon’s smile curled up ever so slightly before carefully shutting the door behind him.
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Y-yeah Alastor... Those romance writers sure are pathetic... pff... pffffft (; ̫ಠ ̫U ̫ಠ ̫ ̫; ̫) We do love a self deprecating joke around here k'know
FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT (Coming soon)
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hyuneblr · 13 hours
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Make it better and Do it better 2
Do you trust me?
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Part 1🔞
“A true wife should stay by your side, even during the hard days. I will stay because you chose to care for me, it’s my only way to repay you.”
How long has it been? Say about a week or two since you’ve last seen that man, the man who devoured you from the inside out. His name was never a given and when you tried to ask for more information about him, he’d always change the subject or get intense. Which is why you don’t have his address, workplace, or phone number.
Though after a while, it was time to pack up and leave, you had work to get back to. He sent you a gift just before you could go, placing it on your ring finger before speaking these exact words. “Wear this every day, at all times. Why? So I could come and rescue you from any situation you need to get out of.”
It made you wonder, if could he find you with just a simple ring, if you were really in danger, could he just automatically come running to save you? You highly doubt it, that hasn’t happened before and it never will.
Your thoughts scattered across every possibility of that man, so much that you couldn’t think to look up and watch out for the street lights. Continuing to walk until you heard a beep and two pairs of hands pull you back by the waist, “You should be careful, didn’t you see the light turn red?” Chris asked, keeping his hands on you so you moved them for him.
“You’re right I should pay attention, thank you.” You spoke quickly and coldly, you decided to avoid him from now on. You forgot how hard that’d be since you two lived near each other and took the same way to work, that’s also why there are rumors in the office of you two.
“You’ve been avoiding me, why? You barely even look at me anymore.” He caught up to your walk, immediately pausing as you did.
“Didn’t know I needed to look at you.” You sighed, looking at the self-centered guy up and down. “Seriously? What’s with you recently, it’s like you changed overnight- oh” He stopped in the middle of his sentence, it’s as if he realized something.
“Oh? What’s that supposed mean”
“Is this about that night?”
You’re highly offended, he had addressed that situation to you until now. But why does it have to now of all time? It’s too late for that, you’re already head over heels for someone else.
“Oh my fucking god Chris, can’t you just take a hint every once in a while? I’m not interested, I’m talking to someone right now.” Well, that wasn’t confirmed, But you’d like to think so. “And who cares about that night? You treat me like shit anyways, it’s about time I moved on.” Why were you even explaining yourself to him?
“I? Me? Treat you like shit?” You nodded in complete agreement. “Is that what you call all those other nights, you in MY bed, screaming MY name, begging for more on your goddamn knees.” You bit your lip furiously, not able to fathom why he would bring such moments up.
“Let’s be honest, we only ever talked to eachother if it involved sex-“
“And he’s different? Whoever that man is, he’s different? As fucking if.” You started to get angry and like most people with built-in anger that never seemed to release, you’d start to tear up. Taking a deep breath, trying your best not to lash out. “Let’s be honest, you’re not capable of finding anyone who could stay. Not unless it’s for your body… I’m sure that man would agree, how about you call him?” Damn, he just used your own words against you like that. You say one small thing, he takes it as if you’re telling him to die and never come back. That what’s you really wanna say but you genuinely do not wish that type of misfortune on anyone.
“Stop it, l-let’s not. I’m sorry, I’m just tired right now. How about we go to work? We’ll talk about it later.” You gave in, letting him ruin your whole mood. Because it’s genuinely true, no one ever stayed, not even your own family. You started from nothing, with no one. But who showed up in the worst times? Chris, That’s why it’s so hard to move on, it’s not just about the love, you just wish not to be lonely. Ever.
“How about we not do that? I’m here now, so, Chris, no I do not want this precious girl for her body. I genuinely want to be around her, is that what you wanted to hear?” Gosh there he was, his hair was perfectly slicked back, suit adding light to his perfect figure, it was like the sun shining in your face but you’re a child who can’t look away. Like right now.
“Are you okay baby, you looked stressed?” He walked up to you, lips pecking your forehead, and then they all of a sudden reached for your lips. He whispered a sly, miss me?” Before engaging your lips together. One hand on your hip and the other on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles.
Chris could not help but just stand there, in complete shock. He was just so dumbfounded at the scenery, you looked so out of it as if you were hypnotized. Until he once again realized something, it figures the more he knows, the more trouble that comes. “Don’t I know you?”
The man stopped, “was it… Hwang Hyunjin? Ah, we meet again.” To correct yourself, Hyunjin stopped, gently biting your lip before pulling to look at him. “I’m not sure I know you, where do we meet?” You detected a lie, he knew him, he knew him very well. It made you step back a little in curiosity.
Chris scoffed with a smirk on his face, point between you two. “What the fuck is this?”
“It doesn’t matter, mind your own business.” You stepped in, tired of Chris’s games. “Can I come with you? I don’t think I wanna go to work today, my mood is ruined.” Hyunjin smiled, grabbing your hand.
“As you can see, my wife requires attention.” you choked on your saliva, isn’t this moving a bit too fast? He showed off your hand and ring to Chris, making the guy storm off. Finally, you had time to yourself with him, able to look into his eyes with no interruption. “Hyunjin? How come you hesitated to tell me your name, why’d I have to find it out from someone else.” You questioned him, making him stiffen a bit.
“It’s complicated, alright? There’s too much to tell you now, I’ve thought about things and I wanna talk to you but just not here. Do you trust me?” He asks, just like before.
“Ofcourse I trust you.” Then with a nod of his head, Hyunjin leaded you into his nearby parked vehicle.
“Come sit,” Hyunjin spoke. He patted next to him on the couch, letting you take in your surroundings first. Entering his house, more like a mansion. Its size was 10x of what you could have ever afforded in your life, it made your curiosity grow further. Eager to sit down and finally know more, as well as the truth. He pulled you closer by the waist, gazing into your eyes intensely.
“What I’m about to tell you, could kill you. I’ll ask you this one last time, so answer wisely, do you trust me?”
You hesitated to respond, heart suddenly racing, but you remembered how he cared for you so deeply, despite not knowing you.
Hyunjin could have drugged you or worse, left you on the streets to be taken advantage of. Yet he placed you in his comfy bed, washing all your worries away with nothing but his mouth, fuck.. what do you have to lose?
“I trust you and I always will.” He let out a sigh of relief, now hugging you. Ready to release the burden on his shoulders, the ones that kept him away from you these past two weeks. “I’m not a regular guy, I’m part of the mafia. The boss to be exact, everything I do could be a danger to you, everywhere I take you could be a danger to you. And just in case you took note of the address, This isn’t my only house, it’s just temporary in case of an emergency.”
“That’s all?” He pulled back, looking at you as if concerned. “Y-yeah, aren’t you at the least surprised?” You giggled, hitting his shoulder playfully.
“I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive, but I’ve got worse things to worry about, plus I think I’d like being the wife of a mafia.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your way of humoring, relieved you hadn’t run away in fear. You’d be killed immediately due to the risk of his own life and organization.
“It’s not as beautiful as it may sound, I have my days and I don’t wanna get you stuck up into that.” You automatically disagreed, shaking your head from side to side.
“A true wife should stay by your side, even during the hard days. I will stay because you chose to care for me, it’s my only way to repay you.” His eyes sparkled, seeing a whole new vision of you, he felt like he could see where he’d be with you in 10 years. Hyunjin has always had trust issues, so of course he wouldn’t want the person he loves to feel that way towards him.
But why are you so trusting? It makes him feel upset and glad at the same time. Glad that you trust him enough to stay, but also upset that you do trust him and stayed despite the troubles. He could be anyone in the world, yet you still decided to follow him to his house, leaving Chris for him. (That jerk had it coming)
“Is it bad to love you already?”
You smiled at his words, maybe even blushing and soon cheesing completely. “Don’t flatter me, stop it.” You hid your face but he refused to let you do so, “no seriously, y/n, I love you.”
You gulped, not even surprised how he knew your name. After all, he could have looked into your entire life, you have no clue. Though why is your heart beating at the rate of a cheetah's speed? Why is getting harder and harder to properly look him in the eyes, there is only one escape. Kiss him, kiss the groom.
-
“Shit- please..~ I’m close..” You whined, nails practically scratching the wall, if it were paint, it’d be off. The water had no mercy when it came drenching you wet, or should it be him that has no mercy? Making you stand as he pounds you into the wall. When in reality, you were supposed to be taking a shower since he had plans on taking you with him to a special event. Now all of a sudden he’s telling you how badly he needs to be inside of you.
“I know, but you can wait right?” He places a kiss on your neck. “You’ll wait until I’m there, right?” He bites down, making you cry out his name, and a few more thrusts before finally releasing inside of you. You clenched as you felt your hole being filled, walls being painted by nothing but his sweet seed.
You're speechless, is this what heaven feels like? If so, you’d love to be there all of the time. “I thought…-“ you breathed, having to catch your breath first. “I thought you wanted to be early tonight?” Or was it just an excuse to get you in the shower quickly? maybe so.
“Meh… we have all the time in the world and right now, I’m spending it with you.” The steam made it harder to see, so hyunjin turned you around, moving closer to see your red cheeks.
He couldn’t help but laugh at your adorableness, he’s never seen anything like it. In all his years of experience, no one has ever made him want to completely destroy them out of love. He wouldn’t do that ofcourse, he felt the need to make you messy, to mold you into his little princess.
“Come here,” with no further a do, Hyunjin spent the last hour making sure you knew of his love, making sure you felt just how deeply you meant to him. From in the shower to out of the shower, and certainly on his bed instead.
“Ah..~” A hard thrust, made the slap of your bodies’ skin echo through the room “Wait-“ you tried back down from this intense feeling but even you didn’t know why you tried to stop him. Though It’s all you could say, release after release, he killed you with the passion of his cock. “Nuh uh.. Don’t try to stop me now, you were just begging me for more a few seconds ago. You’re getting what you asked for.” He smirked slyly.
Missionary heaven is what they’d call it, biting on your bottom lip, kissing down your collarbone, sucking on your nipples, all until the night was out. He said it wouldn’t be that easy and that’s a challenge you’ll accept, especially for passionate nights like these.
So yeah, maybe you didn’t mind making him a little late for some event, or for even being the reason he doesn’t show up at all. You’re his after all, you’d be enjoying him for the rest of your life.
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I feel like this is worse than the first part, AHHHSHSHSHSHANANSNNSNSSNNS… 🤕
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sequinsmile-x · 1 day
Text
Acts of Service
She knew it was different with Aaron, that he wasn’t trying to control her like Ian had, but it was hard to get past. Her defences rising every time he did something she had to tell herself was just him being kind. She’d have to stop herself from reacting, her sharp words cutting her tongue so she didn’t hurt him instead.
AKA the one where Emily struggles with Aaron wanting to look after her.
-x-
Hi besties,
Hope you are all okay!
This kind of came into my head a couple of weeks ago when I was thinking about how differently I interpret Emily and Aaron's love languages.
I really enjoyed writing this one, and I am considering writing a series of unrelated one shots of our idiots- one for reach of the love languages. If that's something you'd like to read please let me know!!
As always, let me know what you think of this <3
-x-
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: References to past coercive/controlling relationship
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily sighs contentedly as she relaxes against Aaron, her resting on his shoulder as she sinks into his embrace, “Thanks for cooking dinner honey,” she says, turning her head to press a kiss to his jaw, smiling as she breathes in the scent of him, his cologne having faded throughout the day, leaving just him behind, “It was delicious.” 
He hums and kisses her forehead, tugging her impossibly closer to him, “You’re welcome sweetheart,” he smiles as he pulls back, “Someone has to make sure you eat actual food every now and again.” 
She narrows her eyes playfully and pulls him in for a kiss, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt as she stamps her lips against his, “I’m not that bad.”
“Em, baby, a few weeks ago all you had in your fridge was expired hot sauce and yoghurt I think might have been milk when you bought it,” he says, his smile getting wider as she shifts to sit in his lap, her hands on his cheeks as she shakes her head at him, “You’re lucky I came along really,” he says, his hands on her back as he holds her in place, “Otherwise you might have starved.” 
She tries to suppress a smile but fails, his dimples appearing under her thumbs as he continues to smile at her, the dents in his cheek the perfect size and placement for when she cupped his face. If she was someone else, if she believed in soulmates and there being one perfect person for everyone, she’d think he was hers. That he’d been made for her, their paths crossing and bringing them here years after they met written in the stars she’d once stared at with her grandfather. 
“Well,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, rubbing her nose against his, “We can’t have that,” she says, her lips ghosting over his, “Got to keep my energy up.” 
They’d only been together for a month, still in the early stages of learning about each other outside of the bonds of the friendship they’d had before. They were insatiable for each other, and had spent every night together since their first date either at his place or, like tonight, at hers. Even when they’d been a case she’d snuck into his room, already used to having him tucked up behind her, his arm heavy and reassuring over her waist. She hadn’t had a nightmare since, something that had become almost nightly in Paris, and she knew it was because she felt safe. 
He chuckles and kisses her, his lips trailing to her cheek, “Why don’t we go take advantage of that big bath of yours?” 
She smiles and nods, her skin already tingling with the promise of what is to come, “I’ll just put the dishes away.”
She stands up and he follows suit, his hand on her lower back, “I can do that sweetheart.” 
She freezes for a moment, annoyance she knows he doesn’t deserve thrumming under her skin. 
It was something she was struggling to get used to. He wanted to do everything for her all of the time. He cooked for her, brought her snacks or coffee at work when they barely had time to stop for a meal. He ran errands for her without her asking - he’d picked up her drying cleaning just because he found the slip on her coffee table just a few days ago and noticed it had been sitting around for almost a week, the gesture turning sour almost immediately because she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. 
Ian had liked to look after her too. He’d buy her clothes and insist she wear them, saying she needed to look good if she was his. He drove her everywhere, always keen to know where she was and what she was doing, as if her world wasn’t just him and Declan by that point anyway. He was the one with the money, her own personal funds not in use when she was undercover, and it meant her options were limited, the situation she’d put herself in getting increasingly dangerous the more she fell into it. 
She knew it was different with Aaron, that he wasn’t trying to control her like Ian had, but it was hard to get past. Her defences rising every time he did something she had to tell herself was just him being kind. She’d have to stop herself from reacting, her sharp words cutting her tongue so she didn’t hurt him instead, the sting of it something that would last far longer than the irritation she felt towards him. It made her wonder in her worst moments if it meant they ultimately wouldn’t work, that no matter how much she loved him, even if she hadn’t told him yet, if she couldn’t accept his love maybe she didn’t deserve it. 
“No, it’s okay,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips before she steps away, “I’m just going to use the bathroom and then I’ll come back and do it.” 
She makes quick work of going to the bathroom, her gaze fixed on her reflection in the mirror as she washes her hands. She blows out a breath as her eyes land on the scar on her left breast, the top of the clover sticking out from under the cami she is wearing. She plucks at the material of her shirt, trying to cover it up. She was used to it now, almost couldn’t remember what her body looked like without out, but it didn’t mean she liked it. She’d been self-conscious during her first night with Aaron, but he’d simply kissed it, his touch healing more than the wounds Ian had left behind, and she’d done the same for him, trailing her fingers over the scars that Foyet had given him as she marvelled at how beautiful he was. 
She shakes her head at herself, trying to shake off the thought of the man who had killed her, the man who was once supposed to have loved a version of her, and she walks out of the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to spend some time with her boyfriend. She steps back into the kitchen, her smile fading when she sees the side is clear now, the handful of dishes that had been used for dinner gone and out of sight. She tenses when he slips in behind her, his hands on her hips as he squeezes, his warmth overwhelming her, his palms burning her through her clothes. 
“Do you want some wine?” He asks, stamping a kiss to her temple, frowning when she pulls away, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to look at him, “What’s wrong?” 
“I said I’d put the dishes away,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek, the now familiar irritation rising up in her, filling her lungs as she struggles to breathe. Usually, she can push it away, but it’s chased by the reminder of Ian, and she can’t. She feels trapped, boxed by him in a way she knows is in her head but her instinct is to fight against it. To tear the walls that were closing in on her apart, to break them down so she could run. 
“Okay,” he says, confusion drawing his eyebrows together, tying them in a knot as he places his hands on his hips, “I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.” 
She scoffs and shakes her head at him, her arms crossed over her chest as she puts more space between them, “I don’t need your help. I don’t need you doing everything for me. I’m perfectly capable.” 
He frowns, “I know you’re capable,” he says, “You’re more than capable. You’re my girlfriend I want to…I want to look after you.” 
She clenches her teeth, the fire inside of her already raging, his explanation barely stoking it, and she grips her arms so tightly her nails dig into her skin, “I don’t need you to,” she says, repeating her previous words, “And I certainly don’t need someone controlling me. I’ve spent my whole life being controlled. By my mother, by my career, by Ian…” she shakes her head as she abruptly stops, her body practically vibrating with fury, “I refuse to be controlled by you too.” 
She stares at him, her teeth tightly clenched as a desperate attempt to stop herself from saying anything else, from pushing him too far. Her body fighting against her mind, pulling her in different directions as she physically feels drawn to him as if on instinct, a direct contradiction to her conscious attempts to get away, to stop herself from getting too used to being happy. 
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” She asks, the silence getting to her as it stretches out between them, her boyfriend seemingly frozen in place. 
He looks at her, his expression unreadable, and he shakes his head, “No.” 
“No?” She repeats incredulously, crossing her arms over her chest, “What do you mean no?” 
He steps closer to her, his endless patience irritating, her skin itching with the need to argue as he does nothing but smile at her, as if he’d seen this coming. As if he’d predicted she’d lose it over something small. 
“I mean I won’t be drawn into an argument you’ve decided you want to have,” he says, his smile soft and loving, “You deserve to be happy, Em. That’s true no matter how much you don’t trust it or how much you try and destroy it before you can be hurt.” 
His honesty disarms her, the fight draining out of her so quickly she feels her shoulders sag, taking a step back from him as she physically sinks into herself. She rarely hated that he was so good at his job, his intelligence one of the many things she was attracted to, but in this moment she does. She hates that he knows her so well, that the walls she’d put up around her when she was young, built with the tools her mother had given her when she should have given her toys, might as well not be there. She feels exposed, raw like a nerve, sparking with the pain she’s always anticipating. 
She also feels empowered in a way she hadn’t expected, as if someone is seeing her as she actually is for the first time ever. As if someone is accepting her for who she actually is for the first time. She releases a shaky breath, her eyes closing as she tries to re-centre herself, his unrelenting love for her almost knocking her off her feet. A feeling she knew the name of even if they hadn’t put a name to it yet, the words hanging in the air around them, waiting to be caught and said outloud. 
“That’s not…” she drifts off, her defence dying in her throat as she avoids his eye contact, his casual assessment of her behaviour that she hadn’t even seen through herself still making her feel unsteady. 
“Unless you really are passionate about putting the dishes away,” he says, stepping towards her to close the gap she’d created between them. He reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, relief spreading through him when she doesn’t pull away this time, “It’s an adjustment being in a relationship with someone new, Em. I show that I care by doing things, I don’t even think about it half the time I just do it. You show you care by touching,” he says, and she looks up, her eyes narrowing as he carries on, “We both are still getting used to what it means to be with each other.” 
She licks her lips and clears her throat, “Are you saying you don’t like it when I touch you?” She asks, somehow sounding less hurt than she feels, wracking her brain for any time he’d flinched or tried to put some distance between them when she’d reach out for him, her skin drawn to his, any space between them too much. 
“No, I’m not saying that,” he says, wrapping his arms around her, “What I’m saying is before you, the only person who ever touched me for years was Jack. It took a little bit of time to get used to being in a relationship with someone again,” he leans forward and kisses the tip of her nose, smiling when she scrunches it up, “I love it.” 
He’d always known Emily was tactile. He’d watched for years as she placed her hand on Penelope or JJ’s shoulder when a case hit them a little too hard. She was a hugger when she’d had a few drinks, her arm around Derek’s shoulder as she tried to play his wingman. He’d wondered for a long time what it would feel like to have her skin pressed against his, and the reality was so much more than he could have ever imagined. 
It was strange at first, getting used to someone being in close proximity again, the intimacy of it something he hadn’t realised he’d missed so much since his divorce. It was more than just the sex, it was everything. She touched him all the time. Her hand brushing against his as she passed him a cup of coffee or a case file., She’d press her face into his neck, her breath skipping over his skin as she’d tangle her fingers with him, the gaps between his the perfect size for hers. She’d hold him close when he woke from a nightmare, her forehead pressed against his, her hand on the back of his neck as she drew him back to her. Her presence and reassurance the safe place he’d been searching for and found right in front of him. 
“Good,” she says, her smile fleetingly turning mischievous, “Because you’re far too comfortable to sleep on top of to give it up.” 
He chuckles and kisses her, and when he pulls back his smile slips from his face, something she’d said lingering in his head, making his skin itch in a way he can’t ignore.” 
“I’m not trying to control you, sweetheart,” he says, cupping her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “I do all those things for you because I love you. I’ll try and be more mindful-”
“No,” she says, cutting him off, shaking her head before she turns to kiss his palm, “Please don’t. I don’t want you to change it’s my issue,” she says, her hands on his back as she presses her chest against his, “I’ve just…never had someone want to do those things for me before just because, not because they want something in return.” 
He smiles, “Okay,” he says, kissing her softly before he pulls her in for a hug, his hand running up and down her back, “Shall I go run us a bath?” He asks, and she hums and nods against him but makes no move to pull away, sinking further into his embrace more than anything. 
“Aaron?” 
He rests his cheek on the top of her head, enveloping her entirely, as he replies, “Yes, Em?” 
She pulls back and looks at him, her smile wide, a beautiful thing he wants to see every day for the rest of his life. All of a sudden, the words she’s been avoiding, choking them down every time she almost says them because she tells herself that it's too soon, break free. Happy and unbidden, and, probably for the first time in her life, entirely true. 
“I love you too.” 
___
5 Years Later
The house was almost too quiet. 
It’s the first thing she notices as she walks out of the bedroom, her bed regretfully empty of her husband who she’s sure is somewhere in the depths of their home wrangling one of the boys. Jack was always the first awake, always keen to get the day started, and she was sure he was currently trying to convince Aaron that they all needed to go to the zoo. 
She yawns as she walks down the stairs, stretching her arms and trying to ease the ache in her shoulder, something that seemed ever-present these days if she slept only just slightly wrong. She comes to a stop in the entryway to the kitchen, a mix of alarm and amusement chasing away any residual sleepiness when she’s met with the sight in front of her, her son’s smile wide as he spots her in the doorway. 
A stool had been dragged from the breakfast bar over to the sink. Her three-year-old had clearly used it to get up on the counter, and he was dangerously close to the drying rack with the two wine glasses she and Aaron had drunk from last night.
The crystal wine glasses her mother had got them as a moving in gift when they bought this house four years ago. 
“Elliot, what are you doing, sweetie?” she asks, walking over and hoisting him up into her arms, settling him on her hip before he can even think about trying to touch one of the glasses, “You shouldn’t be up here you could hurt yourself.”
She didn’t care about the glasses themselves, she could replace them a dozen times or more if she needed to, but just the idea of him cutting himself if he dropped one, or hurting his head if he fell off the counter makes her hold him a little tighter. 
“I try to help like Jacky helps,” he says, his hands on her chest as he pushes himself back to look at her. His hair was rumbled from sleep, the cowlick in the back that he’d inherited from Aaron making itself known as his hair stuck up in every direction. He was her husband’s double, right down to the way he was frowning at her, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 
She leans in and kisses his cheek, his kindness and soft nature something she hopes he keeps. She’d set the world on fire to protect it, to make sure he didn’t go through what she, Aaron and even Jack had endured, “That’s sweet baby, but Jack is 9, he’s supposed to have chores. You’re still too little.” 
He pouts, something she knows Aaron would say is all her, and she has to stop herself from laughing, her lips pressed together as she desperately tries to make a mental note of this. Committing it to memory so when he was a teenager who resisted helping out in the house she could picture this clear as day, so she could remind him of when he was a sweet little toddler who was sad he wasn’t allowed to help. It makes her heart ache, and she hears Aaron’s footsteps in the hallway, giving her an idea. 
“You could probably help Daddy with making pancakes though,” she says, kissing his cheek, blowing a raspberry against his skin until he giggles, the sound a higher version of Aaron’s. She turns just as Aaron walks into the kitchen, his smile wide as he spots them, “Right Daddy?”
He walks over and presses a kiss to her forehead and then her lips before he leans in to kiss Elliot’s cheek, running his fingers through their son’s dark hair, “Are you going to help with breakfast, buddy?” 
“Mama says I am too small for dishes,” he says, and Aaron furrows his brows curiously as he takes Elliot from Emily, resting the little boy on his hip as he looks at his wife. 
She smiles at the sight of them and turns to the coffee machine, “I came in to find him trying to put the wine glasses away,” she says, nodding towards where the stoll still was by the counter, “He climbed up and if I was just a couple minutes later I think we would have started the day with broken glass.”
Aaron laughs and turns his attention to his son, bouncing the toddler on his hip ever so slightly, “You’ve got to be careful Eli,” he says, his smile becoming mischievous as he looks over at his wife, “Mommy is very particular about who can put away dishes.” 
She’s shaking her head at him before he even says it, well aware that he would bring it up the moment she’d told him what Elliot had done. It was strange to look back on now, how uncomfortable the man she loved looking after her had made her. It had helped them grow together, an early turning point in their relationship where she learned she wouldn’t be able to put him off of her, his love for her too strong to be deterred by tactics she’d had in the past to keep people at arm's length. 
It was something he gently made fun of her for every now and again, his smile nothing more than soft and full of love as he’d wink at her, the memory somehow a good one despite her insecurities at the time. 
She rolls her eyes and walks over, abandoning her task of making coffee for now, “Are you ever going to stop bringing that up?” 
“No,” he says, adjusting his hold on Elliot so he can slip an arm around her waist, “You yelled at me-”
“I wouldn’t say yelled-”
“You yelled at me for putting away two plates and some cutlery,” he says, smiling as he carries on as if she hasn’t interrupted, “I’m going to bring it up for the rest of our lives.” 
She smiles despite herself and she leans in to stamp her lips against his, “I guess I can live with that.” 
Jack bursts into the room before they can say anything else, his excitement palpable as he practically bounces up and down, “Mom! Dad said we can go to the zoo.”
She feels Aaron squeeze her hip and she briefly leans into him before she walks over to Jack and hugs him, dropping a kiss on the top of his head, “Then we’d better have breakfast. Dad and Eli are making pancakes,” she says, turning to flash her husband a look before she looks back down at her eldest, “Want to help me empty the dishwasher?” 
Aaron smiles when she winks at him and he steps around Jack as he walks over to help Emily, and then he looks at his youngest. 
“Right, buddy, what kind of pancakes shall we make?” 
“Chocolate chip!” Emily, Jack and Elliot reply at the same time, and he laughs as he opens the door to the pantry. 
“Chocolate chip it is.” 
-x-
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tired-pigeon789 · 1 day
Text
A Deeper Understanding
(Astarion X Anemic GNreader)
Notes: this whole fic is based on MY OWN experience with anemia which happened with extreme blood loss and just general low iron. and is VERY self indulgent. I also don't think about Astarion romantically but if you read this fic that way go ahead. I don't blame ya lol. Tav is also gender neutral and not named, there no description of what Tav looks like aside from them at least having shoulder length hair. (I also didn't really re-read this lol so sorry for any mistakes)
word count: 1983
general warnings: lots of mentions of blood and blood loss.
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It was rough, the last encounter took a lot out of all of us and I’m feeling weak even after Shadowheart’s healing and the health potion. Even worse was the blood loss. Dreadful goblin gave me a deep slash and even though it’s patched I’m dizzy and lightheaded. A feeling I’ve grown used to but this is a new extreme. Personally I don’t feel the need to disclose my low iron. Just how often does one need to bring up such a thing? Well, one needs to bring it up when they are being healed I suppose. “If you knew you had this condition, why throw yourself at the main line of fire?” Shadowheart asks while taking my pulse. “I overestimated my abilities, yes, but at least they got me and not Astarion, he gave the final blow to the mage goblin.” I point out while I drink a hot tea while lean against one of support poles in shadowheart’s tent. She simply sighs as I feel her opinion change of me. “You’d be as good as dead if you don’t watch yourself. We already have enough going on.” I simply say ‘I know’ as I thank shadowheart for her help and rest up a bit before I go off and help the others set up camp for the night. We had found a cast iron pot and pan to cook with so at least I’ll be getting what I’m lacking from that. The stew Gale had made for everyone was wonderful and tasteful, and even though I had little to no appetite it helped and I started to feel more alert but sleep is still needed. 
It was dark and late, the moon shines overhead and keeps my eyes closed. I feel weak after everything I’ve been through today but I’m just happy to have a bedroll to lay in. I just can’t sleep. In, out, in, out melt away stress. Breathe in, breathe out. I think this to myself as I try to sleep. I feel as relaxed as I can be but I just can’t slip away into the blissful void of sleep. First the blood loss and now the loss of sleep. There’s simply no winning today it seems. Sighing I open my eyes and gasp as I see Astarion hover over me, Fangs bare, a vampire. Quickly I prop myself up and try to steady myself despite the lightheadness and the massive headache. 
“Shit.” He says as he backs away while I prop myself up on my elbows while I glare at the man “No No- It’s not what it looks like I swear.” “What the hell Astarion!” Glaring at the pale elf I see him look down at me. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I swear, I just needed some blood.” Getting at better at him I see now for what he is. “A vampire, honestly I'm kicking myself for not seeing it sooner.” I say as I try to keep my distance from him. “I’m not some monster,” he says in a desperate voice as he try to find the words to defend himself. “I only drink from animals, Boars, dear... Kobolds, whatever I can get, it’s just, after everything I’m too slow to go out and hunt.” “And you thought the best way to deal with that was to get a drink from me?” Astarion looks taken a back but sighs. “I just need a little blood, so that I may think clearer, and fight better. Just a taste, please.” The way he said please made me hold my breath for a moment. Probably because I know that feeling well. That lightheadedness, the faint lights that plagued my eyes when I walk the need to hold on to anything. It’s helpless feeling, one that I didn’t expect to share with a vampire. 
“So if you drink my blood, you’ll be stronger?” I ask as I try to calm down and think more pragmatically about this offer. “It would benefit us all, but if not I could just hunt a bear or boar out in the woods.” Astaron says plainly. If I do this he’ll be better in combat, but I’m already weak as it is if I don’t sleep or eat something bloody myself. I know what he says is true, it’s basic logic when it comes to vampires. And deep down inside me I feel that understanding, maybe it’s one sided trust but I know if I had a way to rid of this feeling this hunger myself I would. At the end of it I sigh and nod. “Ok, I’ll let you do this, but you have to promise to stop when you have your fill and, you have to keep an eye on me.” Astaron smirks as he kneels in front of me with a look in his eye saying ‘I can’t believe I’m getting away with this.’ And frankly I can’t believe it either. "I promise you have my word. You can trust me” He says. 
Laying back down Astarion hovers over me as he pushes my hair to the side, pulls down the collar of my shirt in a less obvious place to hide whatever mark would come of this, and takes a bite at my shoulder. Hissing in pain I take a deep breath and my hand holds onto his bicep as he drinks from me. The pain melts after a minute but the lightheadedness that I’m used to now feels even more nauseating and I start to push on Astarions shoulder to get him to stop. He stops thankfully but his face doesn’t leave the crook of my neck just yet. I’m shaking and running colder than usual, my breath is faint and I lay my head firmly on the thin pillow underneath. “Your blood, it’s faint. Are you anemic?” I nod as I try to control my breathing. “I know it isn’t a lot, but I don’t think anyone else in our party would’ve let you drink from them.” I say softly as I close my eyes as tiredness finally creeps up on me. “And I’d rather it had been me you drank from than some poor stranger.” “You’re going to be in a long sleep after this, you have nothing to gain from what you just did.” He says as he finally pulls away and looks down on me. “I couldn’t sleep anyway. And you got stronger right? At least a little bit? Surely it’s enough to cover for me tomorrow.” I jest a bit as I continue to shake a bit and cover myself with a blanket. 
“I won’t drink from you again, your blood is very watery.” “Thank you?” I say weakly as I hear Astarion sit himself down next to me. “It’s not a compliment. You need to do something about that.” “Believe me I know. However last I checked I’m not in my cozy apartment in Baldur's Gate, where all my medicine is. I hate feeling like this.” opening my eyes I look over at Astarion as he just simply looks into the fire in front of us keeping us warm. “Be honest, with me” Astarion starts while he keeps his gaze on the fire, “If you knew you had this condition, why did you let me drink from you?” I think again for a moment before I speak.  “Because I know what it feels to be weak from blood, It’s a weird craving and I know it horrible, maybe not in the same way as you but I can make a good guess. I’ll be fine, I’ve like this before.” I can’t move much, my whole body aches and my breathe is shallow as I feel the need to stay awake, it’s not really a fear of death from the Astarion bite but just unease and general paranoia. “Did my blood even do anything for you?” I ask. “Some what, I just didn’t expect the weak taste.” I just let out a small chuckle. “Talking about my blood like one would talk about wine, funny.” “how long had you know about your condtion?” my breath evens out but I still shiver under the blanket as I think about the question. “About a few years now, I figured it wasn’t normal to feel faint everyday.” Astarion hums in understanding as he sits next to me. “I’m surprised you’re still next to me if I can be frank.” I say softly as I look up at Astarion. “Can’t let the others think I killed you in your sleep now can I.” he pauses for a moment before he continues, “I also feel like we’re kindred spirits now in way” “you’re very funny.”
After a moment of silence between us, Astarion speaks up “you ought to sleep, there will be plenty to do when day comes.” I just hum softly while I cover my eyes with my arm “I doubt I’ll be of much use. You guys are going to need to do whatever is needed in my place.” “how long do think you’ll be out?” He asks with some surface level concern. I know he only cares enough about me to make sure I get the tadpoles removed, to how I just became the leader of this strange group I do not know but can understand why Astarion would ask that. I would too if I was him. Sluggishly I pull my arm away from eyes and see Astarion look down at me with slight concern but the arch and furrow brow of his gives away that he really doesn’t want to be next to me. Maybe it’s out of pity or guilt, or perhaps he just want’s to go hunt to get his fill. “I don’t know, but I know I can’t do much of anything tomorrow, I’ll be fine in case you were worried.” I say softly as the sweet void of sleep came creeping up on me, however I felt just as scared as I did when I first woke up in the Nautiloid. I know I won’t die in my sleep. I know I won’t. But the paranoia doesn’t leave me. I need to stay awake. 
Struggling to keep my eyes open Astarion brings his hand over my eyes to close them “Sleep. like I said, I don’t want the rest of the camp thinking I killed you.” “How kind, but you would have though, Had I not woken up.” I say absent mildly. Astarion doesn’t say anything for a minute, not a ‘I would never!’ or a ‘yes I would.’ which in a way is enough of answer to me. I didn’t like that I was right. I feel the fire dies down a bit and I hear him shift the logs and the warmth comes back. “You’re not dead though, so lets not dwell on that.” he says. Almost like a child saying ‘you should be happy that worse case scenario didn’t just happen so you can’t be mad’ the idea almost makes me laugh. “You can still drink from me, only when I’m well of course and you can’t find anything else. I want you at your best.” “Even with your condition and finding out my secret you’d still let me drink from you? You must really not care about your life.” Sleep feels closer as I drift off while trying to the words to say something in response. “I’ll take my chances, I’d rather die bloodless than become a squid. But I’ve also grown to trust you a bit, Despite everything.” “Questionable logic at best my dear.” he chuckles which in turn makes me smile a bit. “Well I’m not in the best state of mind. But I don’t think it will change.” I sigh. “Sleep, I won’t leave-” before Astarion could finish his sentence my mind fades and I do in fact, finally sleep. 
@half-poison-and-half-hope Just for you
23 notes · View notes
osaemu · 3 months
Text
JJK MEN: BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK?
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✩ ‧ ˚. [ GOJO, TOJI, GETO ] your boyfriend's gone for work, and you gotta convince him to come back home over the phone... NSFW
contents: fem!reader. phone sex, voice kink, video taking, dick pics, blah blah blah. you can probably guess the rest. not proofread + mostly written while i was half-asleep. 2.3k words.
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★ ━ SATORU GOJO
“baby, i miss you,” satoru mumbles, voice soft and sleepy from the other end of the phone. you hear the sound of sheets rustling against his phone’s microphone as he rolls over, groaning softly. “i can’t wait to come home to you.”
you plop down on your bed and turn your phone on speaker as you rest your back against the headboard, stifling a yawn before you reply. “me too… it’s so lonely without you here.”
“i know,” satoru says, and even though it’s not a video call, you’re absolutely certain he’s grinning like the cocky idiot he is. “tell me ‘bout your day, sweetheart. wanna know what you’ve been doing without me.”
you roll your eyes and smile, checking your nails as you reply. “nothing much, it’s kinda boring without you here.”
“tell me more,” satoru murmurs, and he thinks that he’s so lucky you two aren’t on a facetime call, because his hand is slipping down to the waistband of his pants and he’s tugging them off, releasing his already-hardened dick. “i wanna know everything.”
you don’t think much of the way satoru’s breathing has gotten noticeably choppier as you ramble about the little things that’ve happened in your day so far—after all, how could you know that he’s stroking himself to the sound of your voice?
“so, yeah, that’s basically everything,” you finish, exhaling softly. the moment you stop talking, you hear the soft groans that satoru’s been fighting to hide the whole time, and suddenly, it clicks. “wait, satoru, have you been fucking yourself the whole ti—”
“maybe,” your boyfriend replies instantly, pausing and taking a long, unsteady breath before he continues, “wanna join me?” you don’t reply immediately, but soon, his voice turns pleading. “c’mon, baby, missin’ you so much… lemme hear you, sweet girl. help your boyfriend out, pleeea—” 
“okay, okay,” you give in, reaching down and tugging off your shorts. a second later, your panties are discarded as well, and your fingers start to circle your clit at the sound of satoru’s voice.
“mm, you touching yourself, baby?” satoru breathes, hand still wrapped around his dick. you hum in agreement, and the hand holding your phone grows tighter the faster your circles get. satoru clicks his tongue after a couple seconds, and adds, “don’t hold back, i wanna hear you.”
“okay,” you mumble, missing his familiar touch now more than ever. “i miss you so much, ‘toru,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky from your own fingers. but it still isn’t enough to push you over the edge—you both know that only satoru has the skill to do that.
“i know you do,” satoru teases, an amused lilt in his voice. “bet those pretty hands of yours couldn’t make ya cum half as fast as i could, yeah?”
he’s right, but it doesn’t stop you from trying—god, you wish your boyfriend were here and inside of you, but for now, his voice is all that you have. “baby, these past couple days, all i could—fuck, all i could think about was that pretty pussy of yours,” satoru chokes out, hand moving up and down the length of his dick faster. “so tight f’me, all just for me,” he mumbles, throwing his head back and gritting his teeth.
“s-satoru, i need you,” you mewl out, legs starting to tremble just at the thought of him. “need your dick inside of me, plea—”
“can’t do that, princess,” satoru sighs, groaning at the sound of your desperate request. “wish i could, though.. but we gotta wait for a couple days, fuck.”
you stop rubbing your clit and instead slip two fingers inside your cunt, wrist shaking at you pump your fingers up and down at his request. “s’ not as good as you, ‘toru,” you whine, hips unconsciously rocking against your hand. “come home soon, please, can’t wait for that long—”
satoru laughs breathily and moans shamelessly into his phone, mumbling something about work or a mission or something—but you don’t really catch the details, too occupied with fucking yourself to the thought of your boyfriend. “so impatient, aren’t ya?” satoru exhales, thrusting into his own fist and fantasizing about your warm, tight cunt instead. “fuck, baby, miss you and your cunt so fuckin’ bad—”
“then come home, ‘toru,” you plead, hardly able to choke out your words coherently. “please, satoru, i need you here—”
your boyfriend cuts you off with a series of porn-worthy groans, mixing in your name wherever he can as he cums into his hand. it’s not satisfying, and it doesn’t feel half as good as it would if he were fucking your pussy instead. so, after a couple seconds, he mumbles, “whatever you say, princess, i’ll be there by tomorrow.” 
★ ━ TOJI FUSHIGURO
“you’re an asshole,” you mutter into your phone. toji only scoffs in reply, a disbelieving edge to his voice. “toji, listen to me—”
“i’m listenin’, princess,” toji grumbles. “yeah, i know i said i’d be home by tonight, but somethin’ came up. s’ not my fault i’m surrounded by idiots.” and he makes no effort of hiding his disdain at your stubbornness—some things were just out of his control, including how long it took for most of his missions to get completed.
“don’t call me that,” you snap, climbing into your bed and pulling a pillow onto your lap. toji sighs, and it’s a long, lengthy exhale that surely has to be exaggerated. “fuck you, toji, you promised you’d be home by tonight.” 
your boyfriend laughs incredulously into his phone, chortling for a good twenty seconds before he replies, “i don’t remember promising anything, n’ what do ya need me home for anyways? what’s so fuckin’ important, huh?”
well, there’s no way you’re telling him the real reason you want him home so badly—he’d just laugh at you and your desperation for him. but honestly, after going for more than a week without his dick, you’re really fucking close to telling him that. instead, you reply, “maybe i just miss my boyfriend.”
“more like you just want dick, don’t ya, pretty?”
toji sees right through your pitiful lies—he always does. you don’t respond for a long while, and your boyfriend fills up the silence by laughing again. “shoulda just said so. i missed fuckin’ that tight cunt of yours too, idiot.”
“so will you come home now?”
“mm, you gotta convince me.”
“how?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. 
“show me jus’ how much you miss me, and maybe i’ll consider comin’ back early if you can prove it to me,” toji says, and you can hear the smile in his voice as your screen lights up with a request to facetime. 
you accept, and a second later, your boyfriend’s face fills up your screen. his dark eyes are squinted from the sudden light, but the corners of his lips curl upwards when he sees you. “hey, princess.”
“hey, asshole.”
“you want to get fucked tomorrow night or not?” he drawls, a lazy smile playing on his face when that shuts you up. “now c’mon, let’s see that pussy. open wide f’me.”
you mutter something about him being the worst boyfriend ever before you tug down the waistband of your panties, exposing your neglected, puffy cunt. your clothes are quickly discarded somewhere, allowing you to angle your phone downwards and show toji what he’s missing.
“oh, fuckin’ hell,” toji mutters, navy eyes fixed on your cunt as you slip two fingers inside and start pumping them in and out of your hole. the dim lighting of your room bounces off the slick already coating your cunt, making it look wetter than ever to toji—and you can practically see the longing in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself.
“please, toji,” you mumble, spreading your legs even wider to show off your pussy to him. “miss you so much, please—fuck, please come home,” you plead, doing your best to put on a show for him. at this point, you’re so touch starved that you’d do anything to get him back—anything to satisfy you, since your own fingers can’t even give you half the pleasure toji can.
“so desperate, aren’t ya?” toji tuts, eying you with interest. “tch, pathetic…”
you whine in response to his words, hips rolling against your own hand as you futilely try to convince your head that it’s a dick in between your legs and not your own fingers. “fuck, toji, i’ll do anythin—”
“anything?” he instantly cuts you off, cocking an eyebrow as if he’s intrigued. you nod desperately, almost willing to do anything and everything for him if it meant he could fill up the empty spot in between your thighs. “you promise?”
“y-yeah, anything,” you whimper, throwing your head back as your hand starts to grow sore. 
toji hums in approval, and a moment later, he replies, “alright then. i’ll head back tomorrow mornin’, but you’re getting fucked for the whole night after. n’ i don’t wanna hear any of that ‘toji, it’s too much!’ bullshit, m’kay?” he snaps, mimicking your voice by raising his pitch two octaves. 
“okay, i promise,” you choke out, and the second the words leave your lips, toji hangs up.
asshole.
★ ━ SUGURU GETO
“suguru, i miss you,” you mumble into your phone, burying your face into the blankets wrapped around your shoulders. usually, it’s rare for you to feel cold within your bedroom—suguru’s presence seems to make everything warmer. but right now, he’s not here, and even your own room feels barren without his comforting aura. “it’s so empty here without you…” 
“is it, now?” suguru replies coyly from the other end of the call. he’s at some sort of meeting right now, but apparently, he’s on his break—which is good, because you imagine that it might be a little embarrassing for him to take this call if he were in the middle of the meeting. “i miss you too, baby. you and that pretty pussy of yours, heh.”
“sugu—”
your boyfriend interrupts you with a soft, teasing laugh, lowering his voice when he adds, “do you want to know what i’d do to you if i was with you right now?”
you swallow back the “yes” you so desperately want to say, instead whispering, “aren’t you in public?”
“nah, i’m in the bathroom right now,” suguru clarifies. “now c’mon, answer the question.”
“...yeah,” you admit. it’s been over a week since you last had any sort of sexual contact with suguru—you’ll take what you can get.
your boyfriend laughs again, sultry voice pouring out your phone’s speakers and straight into your throbbing cunt when he starts describing—in great detail—the things he would do to you if he was on top of you right now.
“...and then, i would flip you over and fuck you face-down ass-up for hours,” suguru adds casually, enjoying the sounds of your muffled moans—you’re trying so hard to hide them, but little do you know that it’s only too obvious to suguru. 
two of your fingers are circling your clit as suguru speaks, and your own hand is clasped over your mouth as you struggle to hide the effects of suguru’s voice on you—and he just keeps talking.
“yeah, and when i finally let you cum all over my dick, i’d just keep going,” suguru cooes, tempted to pull down his pants and take care of his own boner right then and there. but unlike you, your boyfriend has some ounce of resilience, and as he checks the time on his phone, he realizes that he has to get back to his meeting soon anyways.
“suguru—” you moan, unable to stifle your little whimpers any longer. “wan’ you so bad, please—”
“silly girl, what do you mean, you want me so bad?” suguru says amusedly. “i’m already yours, aren’t i?”
“you know what i mean,” you huff, rocking your hips against your fingers in an attempt to force yourself to cum. but unfortunately, ever since you started fucking with suguru, your own fingers aren’t good enough—even if you could hypothetically make yourself orgasm, it wouldn’t give you even a fraction of the pleasure your boyfriend could. “please, sugu, i wanna see you.”
and just like that, any remaining self-restraint suguru has snaps—the sound of you begging is enough to make him do anything in the world.
suguru hastily unzips his pants, releasing his dripping dick. he runs his thumb over the leaking tip, smearing the pre-cum all over its head. “fuck, baby, i’m at work right now,” he mutters into his phone, rolling his eyes affectionately when he hears you giggle. “one pic. then i’m going back to my meeting.”
“m’kay!” you agree, pulling the phone away from your ear and turning it on speaker as you eagerly wait for the pictures to send.
suguru holds up his phone and snaps a picture of his dick resting in his palm, stroking it with that hand and sending you the image with the other. “alright, sweetheart, gotta get back to work,” suguru sighs, unable to get his boner to settle down—he figures the only way it’ll happen is if he ends the call, which he really needs to do.
“aw, do you have to?”
“yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mutters, removing the phone from his ear to end the call.
“wait, what’re you sending me—oh, fuck, you’re the worst,” suguru groans when he clicks the notification and sees a video of what you’re doing to yourself right now—it’s a five second video of you pumping your fingers in and out of your puffy cunt to his voice, and there goes his resolve to stay at work.
“i fuckin’ hate you, baby… see you in a couple hours.”
15K notes · View notes
astraystayyh · 2 months
Text
pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
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i. 
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  
He’s beautiful. 
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 
“Touché.” 
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?” 
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 
One hour later 
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 
“You made them?” 
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.” 
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 
ii. 
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose. 
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 
Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 
One week later. 
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 
"What’s wrong?" you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 
"Sowon?" you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
"Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—" He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel," you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
"Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?" you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
"Sure. Sure," he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
"Thank you," you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Someone's knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 
“Will she be okay?” 
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 
“Why are you apologizing?” 
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 
“Can I read what you wrote?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?” 
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 
“There are small lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing. 
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 
You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 
iv. 
You’re avoiding him. 
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 
“Okay!” 
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 
“What happened to connected Chris?” 
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 
you win. 
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later). 
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 
It's her first time calling you mom. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
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chuluoyi · 30 days
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。.*。☆゚ 🕰️ 08.25 p.m
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tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!
a part of gojo's love entries
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don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.
on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.
“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”
you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”
“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”
his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.
“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”
“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.
“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”
you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”
you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.
satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.
“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”
“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.
“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”
your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.
suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.
“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”
he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.
“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”
“satoru!!”
and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.
“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”
at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—
“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”
yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.
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messylustt · 9 months
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Going without a bra in your spider suit because you only need to report to Miguel and then your changing so why bother? Completely forgetting that you have your nipples pierced, meaning Miguel can see the barbells and your nipples through the skin tight suit. He’s going feral: both because of the image of them and that someone else would have had to see your naked breasts in order to pierce them.
you were pierced where? — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). oml—hfndkkkdkkem.
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miguel was busy, staying distracted with the nearing mission as he listened to lyla. but the moment you walked in, all suited up and ready, his hard gaze and body simultaneously tensed and widened. because what were wearing? your spider suit, yes. but it was what was poking through that caught miguel’s attention. his eyes grew fixated on your tits as you walked in alone, and oblivious. he quickly waved lyla away, jumping down and stepping closer to you.
“what are you wearing? or should I say…what aren’t you wearing?” miguel speaks slowly, and lowly. you glance down at yourself. he’s seeming to really focus in on the fact that your nipples look pierced — the metal bars poking through. you had chosen not to wear anything under your suit today. it was only going to be you and miguel. you glance back up at him. “what? it’s just you this mission.” you say, thinking it’s about the ‘no bra’ situation. but miguel isn’t focusing on the fact that anyone else could see you, because someone else has seen you.
he steps much closer, his gaze hardening again. “when did you get them pierced?” he asks, his teeth grinding. you look down again. “oh…” you drift off. “a few days ago.”
“a few days ago?” miguel reiterates harshly. “and you…what? didn’t think to tell me?”
“well i was gonna tell you. i am telling you. right now.” you smile, and miguel’s lips twitch in a snarl. “no no, you can’t just decide that.”
“what do you mean — ” but your words are dying off because miguel is now breathing over you. his towering position actually making you gulp. “who did it?” he asks.
and his almost calm tone is making your breathing increase. “uh…someone who does piercings…” you say, eyeing him. “look, miguel, it’s not that big of a de — ”
“who. did. them?” miguel interrupts, his red eyes nearly making you flinch. “i didn’t catch his name.” you mutter, moving to bypass miguel. “now, don’t we have a mission — ”
miguel’s hand is now tightly wrapped around your upper arm, halting your movement. “his?” he asks slowly, as you move to step away again, only earning miguel to yank you back into his chest, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “a guy pierced them?” he double checks the fact that is making his claws itch to sink into something. “a professional did.” you point out, grabbing his wrist to remove his hold.
when he doesn’t shift you instead decide to quickly lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips as a small distraction. that gives you a moment of looseness in his wrist, for you to take his hand away, but then miguel is slipping his hand to the back of your neck, drawing you back in for a more heated kiss. his lips drawing you even closer as he nearly snarls past your teeth, tongues clashing.
but then you’re drawing back and miguel has the urge to sink his fangs into your bottom lip, because why were you moving away?“miguel, we’re working.” you quietly say, darting your gaze around as if you’d see gaping spider-people. but miguel is leading you back, the empty office exactly that. empty. his hands are now purchased around your waist, pulling your lower body against his.
“are you sure you can’t give me a name?” miguel has started placing sloppy kisses along your jaw, as your back hits the wall. “hm?” he’d ruin the guy who touched you. he needed something to sink his claws into with all this pent up jealousy. “i told you…i didn’t catch it…it’s not like we grew close — ”
“but that’s exactly what you were.” miguel interrupts, grabbing part of your neck and jaw again as his breath hits your slightly parted lips. “…close. he was especially close. touching you.” his fangs are now visible with how much he spat the words. “that’s what they do, miguel.” you try to console.
“he stayed professional — ” he keeps cutting you off, mouth now up close and open against your own. “but they’re mine, cariño…mine to touch, mine to play with…” his clawed hand moved to trace over your spider suit covered nipples, feeling the metal bar, as you flinch a fraction.
“aw…” he coos. “they feel hard, cariño…” then he’s leaning towards your ear. “were they hard for him?” you shake your head. but miguel persists. “of course they were. i know how sensitive you can be. and by someone touching them, you would have started to feel…hot…down here…” he runs two claws down your stomach and over your pussy, making your hips shift.
“…isn’t that right?” your breathing is shallow, as he goes to rub experimentally through your suit, his lips now re-attaching to your skin, drawing the edge of your suit down to lick at your neck, making your pulse quicken. “next time you want help involving things like this…” his claw dragged back across your nipples. “…you’ll come to me.” he grabs your chin again, forcing you to agree. “won’t you?”
you quickly nod, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. miguel’s lips finally curve up in a smile. “but since he got to see you all flushed and turned on…i get to see you writhing and spread open under me…that’s sounds about right, doesn’t it?…yeah.” miguel moves your head in a nod, before his hand is dropping back to your throbbing pussy. “there’s a good girl…”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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angrythingstarlight · 3 months
Note
Bucky’s accountant: “sir you’re spending a lot of money on mrs and miss barnes-“
Bucky: * glare* “are you saying they don’t deserve it?”
Bucky’s accountant: “n-never mind”
Bucky enjoys it when you spend his spend money. He's made it abundantly clear that he wants you to have a soft, luxurious life. He doesn't want you to have to worry about finances. He takes care of everything. That includes you. All you have to do is let him.
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Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
CW: Little bit o' fluff, Little bit o' smut.
A/N: Unbeta'd drabble for the Bumblebee series.
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Your name is on all the accounts, the deeds, his businesses (the legitimate ones anyway) and of course, it’s embossed on his black card. He loved giving you that. And he laughed when you asked about a limit. There isn’t one. He told you to get whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted.
Bucky knew from the jump that you were going to have reservations. He’s been working you through them.
So you can imagine how he felt the day his accountant knocked on his office door to inform him of a suspicious charge.
Bucky sits in his chair, staring impassively at Gregory as he lists off the recent expenses he discovered while reconciling Bucky’s accounts this morning. “...and there’s a charge for almost ten thousand at a supply shop. Some art place in Manhattan. And there’s another one at a bookstore for nearly a grand. I can have these reported—”
Bucky runs a hand down his face, revealing the beginning of a grin. The rare sight of the mobster smiling throws Gregory off kilter, causing him to trail off in disbelief.
10k on your hobbies? That’s his girl.
“I approve. In fact, I approve of everything she buys.”
“Sir. I must say that this seems excessive.”
“It’s not.” That smile is gone as quickly as it appears, and Gregory shrinks back in his chair. “I told her to spend at least ten times that this month. All her purchases are approved. No matter what she buys. My wife gets whatever she wants. Do you understand?”
His voice leaves a chill in the air and this time, when he smiles, it sends a slither of fear up the portly man’s spine.
“Yes, yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He’s dismissed without a word, leaving Bucky to contemplate all the ways he’s going to reward you tonight.
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You crouch down, taking the small shopping bag off her shoulder and setting it next to the pile by the sofa. Straightening her light pink sleeve, you dust off the front of her dress. "Remember what we practiced."
Bee nods seriously. “I remembers Mommy.”
“When Papa asks what we bought today—”
“I say it’s our secrets,” she eagerly interrupts with a grin. “And then I run real fast.”
Bucky knocks on the open door. Once. Twice. “How’s my girls?”
“Hi, Papa!”
You glance over your shoulder to find him leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other, hand in his pocket, and a curious glint in his eyes. “Hello sweet Bee. You have fun today? What’d you get me?”
She opens her mouth before shutting it when you poke her in the belly. “Our secrets.”
“Our secrets Papa.” She repeats, shrugging both shoulders. “Can’t tells you.”
“Aw, but I don’t have any.”
You know that tone even if your innocent, adorable baby doesn’t. Bee’s eyes soften and you can see her starting to cave. You have to intervene now before she tells him ‘jus’ one cause he needs it’.
A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as you defiantly gaze into the stormy depths of his piercing blue eyes.
“Don’t fall that Bumblebee. He already knows too many. Remember? You’re going to run over to your office so he doesn’t get anymore of our secrets and you’ll get two cupcakes after dinner. Ready?”
Bee takes a deep breath, gauging the distance between her and Bucky. “Weady.”
“Go!” you encourage, her giggles filling the room as she takes off. “Run Bee!”
Bucky shifts, stepping into the middle of the doorway, his six-foot-something frame filling the space. Pride blooms in his chest when she fearlessly keeps running towards him, skirting around his long legs with a mumbled ‘scuse me Papa."
You smother a laugh when she lets out a spirited cheer over making it out the room. The joy coursing through you fades to a thready hum of anticipation.
She may have made her getaway but you're very much trapped.
He waits until her giggles fade down the hallway and the sounds of Bluey filter out of her office. Then he turns all his attention to you.
“How much did you spend?” Bucky leans back against the doorframe, his eyes darkening as they skate over the bags to your pretty face.
“Enough.”
“I doubt it,” he hums under his breath. He holds up two long fingers, beckoning you closer. The seemingly innocent gesture is down right obscene because you have first-hand knowledge what those fingers are capable of. “Now it’s your turn. Let’s see if you can get past me.”
You don’t.
He lets you take about three steps before he grabs you. Kicks the door shut. Bends you over the side of the couch, knees sinking into cushions, your head hovering over the edge, near the bags you refuse to let him open. Takes you apart with his finger and tongue before splitting you open on his cock.
Praises you sweetly for spending his money while fucking you like he was punishing you for not spending more.
Which you both know he is.
He makes you work for it, makes you promise to treat yourself as good as he treats you, leaves you so desperate and on edge that you agree to everything that comes out of his mouth.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
All those little pleas drive his hips faster and deeper until they meld into an incomprehensible keen.
By the time you get there, that peak is so sharp and blinding it nearly hurts, leaving you drowning in a sea of overwhelming pleasure, your eyes rolling back, vision blurring as his hips grind into you, his thumb rubbing a perfect, rough circle around your clit.
He can’t think of a more beautiful sound than the low, frantic sob tearing from your lips.
Bucky is almost satisfied. Almost. Still, he doesn’t quite believe you. He thinks you’re going to need a little more convincing.
It’s going to take a few more rigorous sessions to make you come around. See things from his perspective. Understand that while you might be able to take him, he’ll always come out on top. That he’ll ride you over and over until you relent and let him give you what you deserve.
And he’s more than willing to do whatever it takes to get you to spend more.
Bucky places a soft kiss on your tear-streaked face, his soft lips move to your ear while his hips start moving again.
“We’re just getting started, Malyshka.”
And I—
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tteokdoroki · 3 months
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☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.
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about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.
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“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”
the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 
yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”
another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 
“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.
“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”
“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”
“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”
yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.
weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 
he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 
that’s created the very person he loves today. 
“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 
being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 
“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 
you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 
it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 
“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 
yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 
“o-oh.”
a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.
yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 
his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 
itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”
“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 
you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 
change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 
much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.
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