#**unlikely but more likely than over the past month
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lavellansvh3nan · 3 days ago
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A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus
//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!
My friend,
I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.
I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.
Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.
I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.
You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.
What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.
Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.
When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.
I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.
Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.
Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.
What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”
Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.
But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.
It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.
Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.
Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)
To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.
*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*
Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.
Just know, I’ll never be far from you.
With love, always,
Elliana
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filet-o-feelings · 1 year ago
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My AO3 inbox is finally empty and I'm done with work until Tuesday, so maybe* I will actually catch up on tumblr tags and perhaps** even do a little writing.
Oh and I WILL get to everyone's trees, I'm just overthinking what to write so everyone's probably gonna end up with a short and generic message because ANXIETY but do know I put my whole heart into that short generic message ❤️
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rottenfyre · 1 month ago
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⸻ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ ʜ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ ⸻
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Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem Reader
Headcanon: How would he be when he's obsessed?
Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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The first time Jason stepped into Wayne Manor, he looked more like a stray cat than a boy. When Bruce introduced him to you—you couldn’t help but notice the defiance in his eyes, like he expected you to reject him immediately. But instead of recoiling from his rough edges, you smiled and offered your hand. It was the first moment Jason felt truly seen.
Jason didn’t know what to do with kindness, especially not from someone who looked at him like he was worth something.
“You’re going to love it here,” you said warmly, still holding out your hand.
He didn’t take it, but he didn’t forget the gesture either. That moment rooted itself in him, and he clung to it in the months to come.
You were the first person to make him laugh in years. It started small—quiet chuckles he tried to hide—but eventually, you had him cackling so hard that tears streamed down his face.
You were unlike anyone Jason had ever met. While Bruce was the stern, brooding authority figure, you were warmth and understanding. You treated him like an equal, never pitying him for his past or scolding him for his sharp tongue. You’d sit with him during his training, patch him up after patrols, and listen to him vent about the unfairness of Gotham’s streets. Jason began to feel that you were the one good thing in his life—a tether to keep him grounded.
Even in those early days, Jason couldn’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy whenever you spent time with others. Whether it was Dick dropping by the Manor or Bruce pulling you away for a mission, Jason would watch, his jaw clenched and fists tight. You were his sanctuary, and the thought of sharing you with anyone else left a sour taste in his mouth.
Jason always found reasons to keep you close. He insisted on sparring with you during training, claiming no one else could push him like you did. He memorized the way you moved, the sound of your laughter when you managed to pin him, and the way your eyes narrowed in concentration. He lived for those moments.
Whenever you went on patrol, Jason was there, watching your back like a hawk. At first, you thought he was just being protective, but over time, his behavior grew more intense. If a thug so much as glanced at you the wrong way, Jason’s fists would leave them unrecognizable. “They deserved it,” he’d mutter, his knuckles dripping with blood, his gaze softening only when it landed on you.
Jason began planting seeds of doubt about everyone around you. He’d point out flaws in Dick’s plans, subtly criticize Bruce’s parenting, and even question Alfred’s judgment, all to make you feel like he was the only one you could truly rely on.
When Jason died, it shattered you. The boy who had been your closest friend, your partner in everything, was gone. Bruce tried to comfort you, but nothing could fill the void Jason left behind.
When Jason came back as the Red Hood, his first thought was of you.
You. The only light he’d ever known. The one thing that kept him tethered to humanity. And you hadn’t saved him.
His obsession became worse, this bitter, consuming need to make you pay for abandoning him—and to keep you. Jason spiraled, his love for you warping into something darker, something unrecognizable.
Jason stalks you now, though he doesn’t see it that way. He calls it watching over you. You’re his, and Gotham is dangerous, especially with the Bat family’s enemies constantly circling.
He knows everything: where you go, who you talk to, what makes you smile. The line between love and control blurs with each passing day.
Sometimes, he visits you in secret. You’ll come home to find your favorite meal waiting on the counter or a new book sitting on your bedside table. Other times, you’ll catch glimpses of him in the shadows—just a flicker of red and black before he’s gone.
And then there are the times he lets himself be seen. He’ll stand in the middle of your apartment, waiting for you to come home. His voice is low, almost dangerous, as he says, “You don’t lock your windows, princess. Someone could get hurt.”
You try to confront him, try to reason with him, but Jason isn’t the boy you knew. He’s sharper now, more unhinged.
“You think you can just forget me?” he growls, pinning you against the wall. “You think you can move on, live your life without me? That’s not how this works princess.”
Jason’s obsession manifests in unpredictable ways. One moment, he’s protective and tender, swearing to keep you safe at all costs. The next, he’s violent and possessive, tearing apart anyone who gets too close to you.
He’s killed for you, though he’d never admit it. That coworker who flirted with you too much? Dead in an alleyway. The stranger who catcalled you on the street? Beaten within an inch of their life.
“I’m doing this for you,” he says, his voice trembling with something raw and desperate. “You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you. I’ll take care of it.”
You try to push him away, but it only makes him cling harder. Jason doesn’t see the line between love and obsession. To him, it’s all the same.
Jason’s ultimate goal is simple: to have you. To keep you with him, away from the dangers of Gotham—and away from anyone else.
“I’m not asking, princess,” he says one night, dragging you into his arms. “I’m taking you. No one else gets to have you. Not Bruce, not Dick, not anyone. You’re mine, and I’ll burn this city to the ground before I let you go.”
And maybe, deep down, a part of you doesn’t want him to. Because for all his madness, Jason is still Jason—the boy who made you laugh, who understood your pain, who loved you in a way no one else ever could.
But at what cost?
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@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.
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themidnightcrimson · 2 months ago
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malevolent ࿏ wm
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summary: in which moving into a new house brings you horrors you never imagined.
words: 7.6k
warnings: forced breeding, strap-on, dubcon/noncon, demonic, horror, gore, top!wanda, evilmommydemoncockwanda4life
this is dark!fic for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.
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The day was cold and bleak. The air had a frostiness to it that manifested in a sheen of white over the long-dead grass that had yellowed at the passing of autumn. The leaves scattered around were no longer vibrant reds and oranges but rather dulled browns. The trees were barren—dark, crooked cracks in the grey skyline. You noticed a pack of buzzards eating at roadkill.
Death.
Christmas was just around the corner but, unlike everywhere else in the country, this town seemed to not be celebrating much. You’d noticed that the very first time you drove through—this sort of head-down feeling about the place that differed so much from what it looked like. The town itself was charming and cutesy with so many little shops and beautiful gathering spaces. It was colorful, too. But something about it seemed greyed, like a ghost town almost except the people were still there. They didn’t talk much, especially not to outsiders apparently. They only whispered to each other with concerned faces and low voices, like they were afraid something lingering around in the air would hear them. They held their children very close to them.
So it wasn’t exactly the neighborliness of Westview that attracted you to move there. The town felt like something very dark had happened in a place that otherwise was a great place to live.
To be quite honest, the housing market in that town had taken a sudden dip down in the past couple months. You didn’t understand the housing market and thought maybe people just didn’t like to buy houses in the winter, but there were a few neighborhood roads that had recent For Sale signs up in every yard. It’s like people were evacuating the town. Running from something.
There was a specific house, actually, that had taken a steep dip down in price. It was put up for sale a couple months ago for a shockingly low price. You were stunned when you found out there were no bids, no one who had showed interest since it’d been put up. It was a beautiful house, a perfect family home. Not that you had any family to put in it. It was just you, but you liked space.
And for a price that cheap? In a quiet town away from the city? You couldn’t pass up on it. You were anxious, anyways, to have somewhere to yourself. Crashing on your friend’s couch wasn’t exactly the most glamorous post-breakup living arrangements, but the apartment lease was in your ex’s name.
Now you stood, on this dreadful day, in front of that house. You couldn’t help but feel like the windows were eyes staring at you, measuring you the way you were measuring it. Evaluating, judging. Maybe your confidence was just shot from all you’d been through the past few months. You had a house now. It was time to make it into a home.
It didn’t so much seem like the dark energy of town had made its way into your house, but rather that the house was some sort of energy field pushing it out into the town. This was a strong assumption to make, but as soon as you walked into the front door, you could feel it. The air was thick with something more than just the dust of time. It was still. So still. You could feel the still air on your face like a thick cloud of smoke that wasn’t there. It was energy brimming all around you. It made your stomach turn.
You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t feel this eerie energy when you viewed the house. You felt it from the very beginning, but you just needed somewhere, and this house was the only one in your budget.
Cursed, is what the local kids called it. It was cursed because of the family who lived there. When you questioned your real estate agent about it, she sort of brushed it off and said that they just disappeared, that whatever happened to them, happened outside of this home.
You were reluctant to believe that story, but you were a skeptic anyways. If a young family had been axe murdered here or something, it was still just wood and brick to you.
The first few days in the house were busy. The moving company was taking all your stuff from your ex’s apartment and moving it into your house, which meant you had to deal with her calling you and screaming that she definitely bought that chair even though you distinctly remembered ordering it for the living room. You hated having to speak with her, with all her narcissistic tendencies. As much as you mourned the relationship, you mourned how stupid you were for ever putting up with so much for so long.
The house apparently was built in the 50’s and hadn’t been touched since besides the usual renovations every decade or so, which you enjoyed. Older houses had so much more character, like the adorable little partition window between the living room and the kitchen. You opened and closed the little shutters, imagining what 50’s housewife used this for so many years.
So you didn’t have much time to dwell on that eerie energy in the house while the movers brought everything in, until they left. And it was just you and those walls.
Luckily you could focus on unpacking all the boxes stacked around. You did so dutifully, and since you really had nothing else to do, you finished pretty quickly. By the next day you were untaping the last box which was full of random childhood artifacts. Trying to think of where you could put these things that you wanted to keep but didn’t really want just lying around, you suddenly realized that this house had an attic. The agent had vaguely pointed to it previously but you had never went up there.
Going upstairs, you opened the attic ladder and carefully climbed up the rickety thing, instantly inhaling thick layers of dust as your head entered the dark attic. To your surprise, you saw a few boxes lying around.
“Huh,” you murmured with interest as you swatted away cobwebs, the floor dangerously creaking beneath you as you approached the boxes. Whoever took the previously family’s stuff out of the house must have forgotten about the attic, which you found strange. Were they in that much of a hurry to get in and out?
Crouching down, you wiped the thick layer of dust off the box. How much dust could have accumulated in a matter of months?
None of the boxes were taped, only folded shut. Was it wrong of you to look through their stuff, especially since they were basically considered dead? To be fair, the house was yours now, and you needed to put some stuff up here. So you opened the box and looked inside.
This one was full of different colors of fabric. A red fabric crown of some sort, green tights, a blue headband, a can of silver spray paint for hair. Halloween costumes? All of superhero-esque kind?
Opening another box, this time you find some sort of fake lobster. A doorknocker? There’s some baby stuff in there too—a book about the psychological effects of pregnancy, a crib mobile made of butterflies. You go through all this stuff, the usual family keepsakes that the mother was too sentimental to throw away, until you suddenly come across something starkly different.
A book, but a different kind of book. It’s at the bottom of the box, and it’s heavy. The front is dark and somewhat torn with strange inscriptions on it. Heaving it out of the box, it falls into your lap with a cloud of black dust. What the hell did a family have to do with this? It looked more like a Halloween decoration than anything.
Mindlessly flipping it open, you saw that the pages were full of language you did not understand. Markings, almost, like hieroglyphics. Symbols. You come across a page that has the only recognizable thing you see—the figure of a woman, hair flowing, seeming to levitate on the page. This page is much darker than the rest, and the corners more torn. Like whoever read this book always seemed to seek out this specific page.
A sudden popping noise that sounded like weight on a floorboard startled you, made the book fall (it felt more like it leaped) out of your hands. You turned around to see nothing but the dark empty attic.
It was much too creepy up there.
Leaving your box of childhood memories up there and deciding to swap it out for this strange dark book, you carefully climbed back down the ladder and closed it.
The air felt thicker than ever now. Vibrating. Like it had just woken up.
You were mostly settled. Things still felt weird in the house, even after you put up every decoration you owned, but you figured it would go away with time. You’d been living off takeout the whole two weeks, hence the pile of Chinese takeout boxes in the corner of the kitchen. Deciding to go shopping to have some real food in the house, you pulled on your jacket and stepped out into the bitingly cold air. There was even a harsh wind, too, that made your nose hurt. Hugging yourself, you walked down your driveway and noticed a woman standing in the yard of the house next to yours. It was one of the few houses still lived in on the street, and you hadn’t even seen your new neighbor until now.
It was a middle-aged woman checking her mailbox. You struggled internally to decide if you should say hi or not, knowing that being all alone in a strange town was probably not the best idea, but something told you to just keep walking. You almost made it to your car until suddenly you could see her head snap towards you out of the corner of your eye. Instinctively, you froze, looking across the yard at her and seeing that she squinted her eyes suspiciously at you.
“H-hello,” you weakly greeted, shivering from the cold.
“Who are you?” the woman called out loudly, turning her body fully towards you now as if she was braced to defend herself. Great, a crazy neighbor.
“I’m y/n. I just moved in.” You tried to give a smile as you pointed to the house.
Looking between you and the house, the woman hesitated before walking towards you. Wishing you’d just ran to your car and left, you tried to be polite as she approached you.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said gruffly, sticking out her hand which shook yours rather aggressively. You noticed now something neon green on her hip—a watergun? “Detective Agnes. I work for the FBI. I’m working on a murder case here.” She pulled out a black wallet and flipped it open towards you. You knew that there was supposed to be a gold FBI badge there, but it was only a CostCo membership card for someone named Ralph.
“Oh,” you mumbled as she sighed officially and put her “badge” back in her pocket. She was also wearing a purple shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton and the word “Jolene” on it. Who the hell was this woman?
“Better be careful, newbie,” she said, pointing to your house. “The kids love to egg this house. Don’t worry though, I’ve got top of the line security system.” She nodded proudly and pointed to the roof of her house, which you noticed had one solitary print-only Polaroid camera haphazardly duct taped to it.
“Oh,” was all you could say again, feeling the intense urge to run away.
“Unfortunately the department frowns on tasering the little shits even though it’s what those punks need to set them straight,” she said, stretching and tapping on the other side of her hip, which had a toy car on it that she apparently thought was a taser.
Nodding slowly, you started backing away to your car. “Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too, young lady. Be safe out here. It’s a crime-ridden place.” She dramatically looked around the nice, quiet neighborhood as if she was looking at Gotham City and went back to her mailbox. You got in your car and sped away.
Westview only had a tiny market in town. It was liminal with its old linoleum floors and flickering green LED lights that buzzed overhead. It smelled slightly of rotting meat. You wondered if you could steal Detective Agnes’ fake CostCo card.
It was deserted in there, too, besides the drunk clerk with a scruffy beard who stared blankly at you. This was the point where you started to realize the citizens here did not take well to new people.
In fact, you had noticed the only other shopper in there seemed to be following you around. You didn’t feel in danger, given that it was just an older lady in a sweater buying fig newtons, until suddenly she came out from the other aisle and slammed her cart into yours.
“Hey!” you yelled out, looking at the older lady with short blonde hair.
“Get out while you still can!” she whisper-yelled, her eyes pleading. “You’re going to die!”
“Excuse me?”
“Run! Get out of that house, get out of this town! Wanda! She’s going to kill you! She’s going to kill us all!”
She was screaming now, eyes tearing up, knuckles turning white as she gripped her cart. You stared at her, wondering if you should call the police, until suddenly her face changed into a pleasant one.
“Ope! Sorry, dear! These carts have a mind of their own!” She let out a cheery little cackle before wheeling her cart away, going down the aisle to look at the Pop Tarts.
You stood there dumbfounded for a moment before deciding to just leave and go to Eastview for your shopping needs.
Your ex thought you weren’t worth much, but you knew she had to miss your cooking. Cooking was an art to you, a hobby you enjoyed sharpening your skills in. Tonight, since you’d been living off of leftover orange chicken for days, you were making a nice ribeye with lemon green beans and garlic mashed potatoes. A comfort meal. Maybe it would cheer up the angst-imbued house.
The interaction with your neighbors, specifically with the lady at the market, was unsettling. Why was she telling you to get out of that house? Who the hell was Wanda and why was she going to kill everybody? Was everyone in that town cracked out or out of their mind?
It was a little cozier, admittedly, as you were cooking that night. The kitchen had plenty of space for all your cooking tools and equipment, which you had a lot of. They were precious to you, so you had spent almost an entire day arranging them in all the drawers and cabinets.
You limited the lighting in the kitchen to the oven range and the little lamp in the living room. Setting your phone up, you let classical music fill the air as you prepped your steak while your potatoes finished boiling.
You felt calm and at home for the first time in a long time.
Until you started hearing a strange clicking noise.
Your first instinct was to check the oven since this was your first time using it. The clicking was not coming from there. You listened all around in the kitchen until you realized it was coming from the living room. Looking through the partition, you saw that the floor lamp on the other side of the living room was flickering.
Your pot of potatoes steaming and boiling, your steak left on the counter, you emanated through the flip door into the living room. You had just put a bulb in that lamp—no way it was dying already.
The closer you got to the lamp, the more it flickered. Faster and faster, causing your stomach to fold into anxious knots, until finally you lunged and turned it off all together. The room dark now, you caught your breath that you didn’t even notice was quickened.
You reached and turned it back on to find that it was no longer flickering. It must have been a weird glitch with the bulb. You were about to turn away when it suddenly clicked off by itself.
“What the fuck?” you say, reaching to turn it back on when it clicked right back on by itself. Taking a step away as fear imbued you, your eyes widened when the bulb in the lamp started getting brighter.
“What the fuck?” you say again, reaching to turn it off only to find that the bulb was so hot it burned your fingers. “Ow!” Stepping away, you watched in horror as the bulb kept getting brighter and brighter, filling up the entire room with light so that every corner and shadow was lit. You could see everything. And then it got so bright that you couldn’t see well. Your eyes burned, your skin burned with the heat of the bulb. The lamp was shaking where it stood, the fabric of the lampshade starting to burn up to expose the hot bulb even more. Even the metal pole was starting to melt where the bulb sat on it. You could hear the classical music playing from your phone in the kitchen, except that it was frenzied, angered, violent now.
It got brighter and brighter until your face was red hot and your hair felt like it was about to catch fire and all you could see was bright hot white, and you screamed a silent scream “STOP!”
With a loud electrical popping noise, the bright white faded away. You were blinded now, everything pitch dark, the heat replaced with a sudden coolness as the bulb popped and sparked on the lamp where the shade had half melted off. When you could finally see again, you unplugged the lamp and stepped away from it.
“What the fuck?” you said for the third time this night, heart beating fast as you rubbed your hot, aching eyes as your vision came back to you.
Before you could even process what had happened with the lamp, you looked over at the partition window and froze. Your heart stopped in your chest. Every hair on your arm stood up. Your eyes instantly watered with fear.
As you stood across the living room, staring through the partition window into the kitchen, you saw that every single cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was fully opened. All of your cooking tools, all the utensils and knives and equipment, hung suspended in the air right above or in front of the drawer or cabinet you had them in. It was like they were all on strings. And where your dining table was, all 3 chairs were hung upside down in the air above the table.
The air felt alive now. So alive you could feel its heartbeat, feel its breath down your neck, feel it on your skin. It was watching you, taunting you, burning eyes into you. There was something else there with you as you stared at all your kitchen stuff hanging in the air by themselves like they were on pulleys. But they were all so still. Nothing swayed or trembled.
A sigh breezed against the back of your neck. And then everything fell.
All of it dropped, every tool and utensil, every chair. It dropped like dead weight from where it hung, like gravity had suddenly been turned back on. It was deafeningly loud, all the metal tools clanging against the hard tile floor and countertops. Even your boiling pot of potatoes went down with a loud splash of steaming water. It was a deafening clatter, pure chaos as all of your stuff went right down to the floor. Even the chairs cracked onto the ground as they dropped heavily.
Things rolled and trembled until finally it all came to a stop. The air no longer felt as thick, but it was still there. It was silent now except for the eerie classical music still playing from your phone, calmly now.
You didn’t know what to do, or think, or feel. You felt fear. You felt confusion. Fingers trembling, you took frightened steps forward towards the kitchen, unsure of what lied in wait for you in there. Flipping open the door, you expected something to get you. You could feel it, you swore. Watching you. You swore you saw something dark swoop down under the surface of the island counter, but nothing was there. It was just you and all your broken tools and chairs. You avoided stepping on the mushed potatoes that still steamed as you walked through the warzone.
On the counter, your steak laid where you left it. Except that it was bleeding now, covered in thick, black blood that oozed out of it. It dripped down the counter, covered your floor. The center of the steak seemed to throb. Too much blood for just a ribeye, and when you touched it, it was warm.
Not that you had anyone to tell, but you didn’t speak of what happened. Dumbfounded, you numbly cleaned the mess up and went to bed. After the steak, you couldn’t eat beef for a week.
The house felt different now. Still eerie and angsty, but not as devoid as it did at first. Whatever devoid feeling had been filled the day you went into the attic was angered since the day in the kitchen. It felt like the house was resentful, like it was going to snap at any moment and swallow you. Even the doors kept slamming on your fingers when you tried to close them.
You thought about the lady in the market. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something very bad had happened in that house.
“Wanda?” Detective Agnes repeated when you asked her about it. You saw her in her backyard, duct taping another Polaroid camera to her patio. You spoke to her over the fence. It was gnawing at you to know what had happened. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked gruffly, perking up and approaching you at the fence, causing you to take a few steps back.
“Some lady at the store,” you blurted. “She was saying something about a Wanda, like it had to do with my house.”
Agnes squinted her eyes at you, and then she suddenly perked up as if she was listening to something. She grabbed a nearly all-brown banana from her hip and put it up to her mouth like a walkie talkie, speaking in a deep voice. “312 on the move. Dealing with concerned civilian. Be there at 1600 hours.” She tucked the banana back into her belt. “You wanna know about Wanda?”
You nodded, wondering if you should even trust what she has to say.
Agnes sucked at her lip and then blurted, “She’s dead. But you didn’t get that from me.”
“I kind of figured… Did she live here?”
Agnes tilted her head. “And what do you plan on doing with that information, huh? You trying to blackmail a federal officer?”
You raised your hands and backed away. “Look lady, I just live here and want to know why everyone is being so weird about the house I just bought.”
“Look,” Agnes interrupted you, “Wanda Maximoff was found dead in the woods. She’s gone, deadso, totally corpsed out, alright? I’ve got her on an operating table over at the morgue if you don’t believe me.”
You shook your head. “But she lived in my house?”
Then Agnes did something weird. She spoke, “I don’t know.” But she nodded her head.
You looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“I said, I don’t know!” she yelled, but she nodded her head again. The expression on her face was angry, but there was something wrong with her eyes. They were almost… pleading. But like she didn’t realize it.
That conversation didn’t make you feel any better about the situation. And when you got home to find that the old book you’d brought down from the attic was sitting on the coffee table open like something had been reading it, you weren’t exactly comforted.
It was turned to that same page, the one with the figure of a woman wearing a crown. Feeling aggravated with the lack of knowledge you were getting from both the internet and your neighbor, you slammed it shut and threw it under the couch, out of sight. If there was something in this house fucking with you, you would not just lay down and take it.
Things continued to feel off in the house. Your TV kept going off and on at random times. Doors slamming, footsteps in the hall at night, knocking on the walls. None of it felt as aggressive as that night in the kitchen, though. You’d come to terms that you had picked a slightly haunted house, though you still didn’t truly believe in all that stuff. But as a logical, sensible person, you knew that there was something strange causing all these strange occurrences that couldn’t be overlooked.
But when all the little events were mostly docile and didn’t get in the way of your usual living, you just carried on. You wouldn’t forgive what happened that night in the kitchen, but you could live with it and try to forget it. Even though you had to buy so much new kitchen stuff.
That was until you were cleaning one day and picked up that old dark book from under the couch so that you could vacuum. You set it on the coffee table and kept on cleaning, forgetting to put it back in its place of hiding.
That night, with a clean house, you decided to take a nice relaxing bath. You lit candles all around the bathroom and turned off the light as the tub filled with hot water. There’d been more flickering lights and knocking on the walls that evening, but you were starting to get used to it. It was an old house, after all. Maybe it was all just your imagination, and it was all very explainable in a scientific way.
But this event marked a point where you could no longer believe that.
As you laid in the tub, muscles relaxing under the hot water, you opened your eyes momentarily and saw something strange. In the water where you lay, you saw foggy threads of red floating through the water.
Were you bleeding?
Sitting up sharply, you check yourself all over. No marks, no wounds or cuts, no time of the month, but there’s trails of blood floating in the water.
Your heart starts to quicken as the air grows thick around you again, that same feeling as the one that night with the lamp. It swarms you.
“Stop,” you whisper, watching more and more blood appear from nowhere in the water, making the water turn crimson red.
Glancing at the reflective metal surface of the bathtub faucet, your heart stops when you see, in the warped reflection, some shadow of black sitting right behind you in the tub.
That’s when you scream and leap out of the water, nearly slipping on the tile floor as you freak out. There obviously was no one or nothing sitting behind you in the tub, but you most certainly saw the dark reflection of one.
The lightbulb above you starts flickering, even though the light was not turned on.
The blood in the water had gone, but during your jump out of the water your foot had pulled the stopper up. The water was draining now, very loudly, making a deep guttural sound as the water drained quickly. When it was all gone, it was silent.
Something dark appeared at the wide-open hole of the drain. It looked liquid at first, like some black substance was oozing out of the drain onto the white porcelain of the tub, but when it started rising up out of the hole and moving in a very alive way, you realized it was fingers.
Blackened fingers rose out of the drain, wiggling, pulling up a hand along with it. The fingernails were sharpened, the slender hand feminine even with its charcoal fingers.
You screamed when a whole arm shot out of the drain and grabbed at the side of the tub.
All you could think to do was run out of the bathroom and slam the door shut, holding onto the knob and listening as you heard the sickly wet sounds of something being pulled out of the drain and slapping against the wet tub, and even the sound of it stepping over the tub onto the floor. Heavy breathing with effort. Distorted wet footsteps across tile floor.
You wanted to run and call the police, but then you felt the knob gently turn in your hand. This bathroom door did not have a lock.
With some sort of screech of breath, whatever thing that was behind the door pulled hard at the knob. Screaming, you pulled the door back shut before you could see whatever was on the other side, wanting to rather die than to actually see what it was. The thing wrestled with you over the door, pulling hard and fast. You held on with all your strength, hands still wet from the bath, putting your foot against the threshold for more leverage. The air was screaming now, loud in your ears, a heartbeat that was not your own beating from inside your own brain. The lights were all flickering, and the house felt like it was closing in on you.
The thing pulled and pulled, screaming and screaming until it got the best of you. The knob slipped out of your hands, and the door swung wide open.
Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your eyes. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You’d rather die than see.
Breathing heavily, you waited for something to get you, because you were certain that whatever was in your house was trying to do that all along.
But nothing came.
Inhaling oxygen and exhaling bravery, you tried to ignore all the visions your brain guessed that you would see, and parted your fingers. Through the slit in your fingers you saw… nothing. The bathroom was empty. The tub was drained but clean. The flame of the candles all around were perfectly still.
But then you heard a creaking noise from behind you. Slowly, breath held, trembling, you turned around and raised your eyes.
A black figure clung to the ceiling. It was the shape of a person with soft edges. It was a shadow, in human form.
It jumped down at you.
With a scream, you buckled to the floor and covered your head, trying to shield yourself. Nothing touched you. You bravely opened your eyes again and looked all around only to not see the black figure anywhere. There was nothing but you, naked and wet on the floor.
The air felt empty again. The thing had come and gone. You were safe.
For now.
It was hard to feel settled after that. Things got more aggressive. It was like whatever demon was with you had finally laid eyes on you and was set to get you now. You couldn’t find that book anywhere. It wasn’t on the coffee table nor under the couch. You looked everywhere to no avail.
Detective Agnes knocked on your door one night to tell you that someone had been lurking at a window at the side of your house. She was holding a full-size Nerf Super Soaker and said that she had tried to snipe the suspect wearing all-black but they had somehow jumped into your closed window (hence the sound of spraying water you had heard on your window). She demanded to look through the house, which she did and found nothing. You’re pretty sure she swiped a pair of your underwear, though. She taped a Polaroid camera to your roof for good measure and said she took photos of “damning” evidence which included unconcerning pictures of your flowerbed. You knew it wasn’t a person, but rather a thing lurking from within the window.
Nights were the worst. You had never been someone to be so scared, but you could barely sleep from how hard your heart thumped with fear as you lay in bed at night.
A few nights after the bathroom event, you managed to halfway fall asleep somewhere around 3 AM when you suddenly heard loud banging coming from within the walls. Waking up with a shot of anxiety in your chest, you heard the banging again, loud and clear, like someone trying to break down a wall from the inside.
Feeling frozen, you forced yourself to sit up when you fully froze at the sight of something horrific. In the corner of your bedroom, right beside the window, was that dark figure hiding in the shadows. It seemed more formed this time. You could see the outline of hips, hands, legs. The worst part was that you could see two red eyes gleaming at you in the dark.
“Go away!” you instinctively yelled, but it came out barely audible due to the lump in your throat.
The figure slowly came forward, and the moonlight from the window casted over it.
It was some creature of a woman. She was decrepid, slightly hunched over. Her eyes were red and glowing, her mouth set wide open as if her jaw has been broken off. But where her face would have been… Where her face would have been, her skin had been stretched upward into two points, like her skin had been stretched over horns, or over a crown. She was unnaturally tall and skinny, her skin pale and yellowed.
Dark red hair laid at her shoulders, and she was wearing some torn and ratted red suit. Her hands were deformed, long and sharp and bony, blackened at the ends. The horrible smell of death and blood suddenly filled your nostrils, making you gag and cover your nose. The creature smelled of death and appeared deformed, demonic, monstrous, evil.
“Who are you?” you questioned, trying to think of what to say or do. This thing must have been some sort of manifestation of the thing that had been torturing you, and so you say the only name you know. “Wanda?”
The creature erupted into a monstrous screech so loud you nearly went deaf, and in a flash, she lunged fast at you. You swore you could feel her push you down onto the bed when you suddenly sit back up, coming out of a horrible nightmare.
You were sweating through the sheets, panting, looking all around your empty bedroom. Had it been just a dream?
Feeling a sting at your shoulder, you look at it to see a bloody claw mark there, so deep it was already dripping blood.
Once the demon had first seen you in the bathroom, she got more aggressive. Now she had tasted your blood… What was going to happen now?
As you expected, everything got worse. The knocking and footsteps got more violent than ever, doors slamming on you, knives throwing themselves across the kitchen towards you. This thing was trying to get you.
You leased an apartment in Eastview as quickly as you could.
You couldn’t move in for a week, so you were stuck there with that thing trying to murder you. Your friend you had been crashing with was on holiday, but you could not stand to sleep alone in that house. So you asked the only person you could think of…
“No worries, tuts,” Agnes said as she strode into your bedroom with an armful of blankets and pillows. “It’s my job to keep my fellow citizens safe.” She threw her blankets and pillows down on the ground right at the foot of your bed.
Awkwardly, you watched her make a pallet. “You know, I have a couch downstairs… That might be best so you can, you know, watch the front door.” You had told her you were having fears of break-ins and just needed someone to stay with you for a night or two.
“No, no, I can do my job best from right here,” she said as she plopped down onto the pallet. “Besides, these nights can get a little…” She undid her police jacket, which was actually just a varsity jersey jacket with the name Bohner on the back, as she looked up at you with a smirk. “Lonely…”
You just stared down at her, with her banana and water gun. “Okay, Agnes.”
Honestly, the night went better with Agnes there. There wasn’t any knocking or footsteps, no creatures in your corner. It was just Agnes’ obnoxiously loud snoring like a lawnmower right in your bedroom that kept you awake, but eventually you drifted off.
You had dreams of red. Of red and blood behind your eyes. Voices, names, memories, all in red. You don’t know what it was that jolted you awake, but something did, and when you flapped open your eyes, you saw her.
She was on your ceiling.
Red scarlet hair hanging down. Her face was not malformed this time, but rather, it was somewhat beautiful. Even with the glowing red eyes and darkness.
“Wanda,” you whispered, somehow knowing for sure that this was her. Wanda, the woman who had died, who had a family in the house you bought, who had been torturing you for weeks. Her fingers, black, clung to the ceiling as if that’s what kept her there, but you could tell it was magic. It was the same magic that froze your body and made you unable to move as she slowly drifted down the ceiling, closer to you, until she hovered right above you.
She didn’t seem real. This beautiful ghost, demon, whatever she was, her nose so close to yours, breathing over you with red eyes full of desire.
“You opened the Darkhold,” she spoke in deep unnatural voice without moving her lips. “You beckoned me.”
You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move a muscle in your body except your mouth. “No, I didn’t…” You thought of the old dark book. You had opened it.
“I can live on…” she spoke, reaching out her hand to touch you. It landed on your stomach, causing you to jump. You could feel her hand. You felt silly for expecting it to just go right through you. Her skin was touching your stomach over your shirt. It made you feel fear and excitement at the same time. “I have a womb now.”
Your eyebrows sewed together. “A womb?”
Chills filled you as Wanda’s lips stretched open in a wide grin that was too perfect to be real. Her face looked fake suddenly, like it was just a pretty human mask put over the real face of something horrible. “A womb for my children,” she said without moving her lips.
Suddenly, your legs were spread wide open in the air. You let out a scream of shock and fear, which made Agnes’ snoring finally stop. Agnes jumped up, stumbling, holding her Super Soaker. Her eyes widened when she saw the demon hovering over you.
“Get down!” Agnes yelled to you as she held up the Nerf gun and sprayed a sharp stream of water at Wanda. To your surprise, once the water hit the demon, it steamed and burned. Wanda hissed and turned to Agnes, levitating upright in the air as Agnes continued to spraying her.
Getting out her banana, Agnes yelled, “664 we need backup over here! I repeat! 664 we’ve got a code red!”
Wanda lifted her hand. Agnes rose up into the air, and with a flick of Wanda’s wrist, she was flung right out of the second-floor window.
Wanda turned back to you, and fear jumped at your spine again. Now it was just you and her.
Flying back towards you, she used her magic to peel the sheets off of you, settling herself down on the bed over you.
“What are you doing?!” you cried out as she somehow tore your clothes off your body, exposing your skin to her.
Her hand immediately went between your legs, groping at your core. “I have been waiting so long for you, detka,” she spoke, her voice sounding a little more natural. Her eyes, once robotic and blank, looked softer now. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.
You tried to squirm but her magic kept you still. Her hand was expert—she rubbed circles at your clit as her other hand snaked up over your stomach, up to your breast which she groped. “The perfect vessel,” she whispered. “I can live on. I can have my children again,” she repeated as she slid her hand down to your tummy again, her hand glowing red. “Your womb is so fertile. I could feel it when you first arrived.”
Your head was spinning as this demon woman worked at your pussy, pinching your clit and slipping two fingers inside which made you yelp. She was gentle yet firm at the same time, somehow knowing exactly what would make you feel good. You were getting wet for her—you could hear it in the wet sloshing sound that your pussy made as she pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them at their deepest length.
“Fuck,” you breathed, your head feeling suddenly very hot, as if a fever suddenly set upon you.
“You are so good,” she breathed, voice deeper this time as she adjusted where she sat between your legs, now kneeling over you. Suddenly, something large formed at her crotch. It was a strap—long and maroonish red with charcoal darkness at the tip.
“What are you—”
Wanda grinned and shushed you as she stroked her length, red magic glowing from within her strap. “Be a good, quiet vessel, detka.”
Something evil was showing through in her eyes.
“Wanda—”
She used her magic to shut your mouth so that you could only make muffled noises as the demon nestled between your hips, using her hands to spread your thighs further open. She wanted you as open for her as you could be.
Frightened but also some sickly form of turned on, you watched as the demon stroked her cock and brought it to your entrance which she had prepped and made soaking wet for herself. Her cock was larger than anything you’d ever taken. It was throbbing with magic.
The tip pushed through your entrance painfully, and you cried out through the magic covering your mouth as the demon suddenly pushed her entire cock inside you, ripping open your walls. Pain seared through your human body as the demon forced her way inside you, but when she passed a hand over your head, the pain suddenly went away. It turned more into a feeling of butterflies, of throbbing, of pleasure. You could feel blood leaking down your thighs, but she had taken away your pain.
“You are going to give me such beautiful children,” Wanda murmured, cupping your chin with her dark hand as she started to thrust her hips, pumping herself inside you. The pressure came against your cervix in a hot flash of pleasure each time. She was so long and so large, fucking herself so deep inside you that your stomach bulged. The demon pressed her hand on the bulge and cackled, feeling herself fuck you from inside.
You could feel everything, how deep she was, how the ridges of her strap glided against your walls, the way your stomach bulged with each thrust. Your pussy was being stretched open around her demon cock, taking every single inch no matter how girthy.
“The perfect bride,” Wanda said, her demon voice showing through as she started to fuck you harder. Her hand slapped around your throat, holding you down and halfway choking you as her thrusts became quicker and quicker, demonic grunts coming from her. You could feel yourself tightening inside, preparing for what was about to come.
The demon’s cock seemed to swell inside you, forcing you to stretch even more. Sickly squelching noises filled the air. Blood was all over the bed now. You felt nothing but electric, all-consuming pleasure.
“Stay still,” Wanda said as she choked you harder. “You’re going to take all of my seed. You’re going to give me such beautiful children, my beautiful bride.”
She went harder and harder, fucking deep into your womb until finally, the energy broke. She let out a guttural noise, and you could feel her cock go rigid inside you before a load of warmth filled you deep inside. As you shook from your own blinding orgasm, you couldn’t even see the fact that your tummy bulged as the demon kept filling you with her seed which glowed red from inside you.
Sighing, Wanda relaxed against you, keeping her cock inside you. It was still swollen, stuck inside your cunt. “I’m going to keep myself here until I know it takes.” She smiled for real this time as she stroked your glowing, swollen tummy. You were more than feverish now as you felt things start to change inside you at an inhuman speed. You could feel it taking, feel your tummy swelling more and more.
You didn’t know that once you birthed, she would slaughter you like breeding cattle.
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mv1simp · 4 months ago
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for anon's request: max with another driver's younger sis, same age gap <3
Girls Need Love ♥️
Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader
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girls can never say they need it, girls can never say now, oh now (give it to me like you need it, baby)
You're the youngest cousin in the Sainz family, your papa's most precious princessa. Unlike your cousins and brother, who get to openly show off their many romantic conquests, you have been raised to be demure and shy about boys. But when you meet your older brother's friend, Max, you can't control the desires within you. You want him, and you're ready to show him just how much.
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, sexual tension, size kink, dom!Max, sub!Reader, 5k WC
It was no secret that your older brother, Carlos, was a notorious playboy. He gets it from his father, your tias had always gushed, he was always a ladies' man too! Growing up, you'd always see Carlos easily charm his way with younger and older women alike, his devilishly good looks just too hard to resist. And he wasn't discreet about it either - you'd had to bang many a time on the wall separating your rooms on family vacation when him and his fling of the month had been a touch too enthusiastic with their activities. Your large family would always laugh when they'd emerge from their room to join brunch, well into the late morning, and tease Carlos that the tequila and oyster paella last night must have had a kick to it, ay carino?
You'd join in on the teasing, giggling and enjoying the blush Carlos would always get when you called him el estupido rompecorazones, an idiotic heartstealer. When you were younger, you had always thought that one day your tios and tias would tease you too, on family vacation when you returned from a lazy afternoon stroll with a boyfriend, all flushed - but as you grew older, you'd accepted it as just a childhood fantasy. You weren't shy by any means (you had Spanish blood after all! A Sainz through and through) but you didn't possess that natural flirtatious nature, the ability to give those romantic smoulders that your older brother seems to have been born with. And when you focused on your career more and more, working as a sought after financial advisor to your brother and many of his athlete colleagues, you found that by age 26 you'd only had a small handful of short relationships.
The one time you'd brought a college boyfriend home - your first and only serious relationship - your father had certainly had a very different attitude towards him compared to his usual friendliness to Carlos' girlfriends. You'd told your papa afterwords how embarrassing it'd been that he had interrogated your boyfriend over dinner, wanting to know what his future plans were on a first meeting, only for him to ruffle your curls and press a kiss to your forehead to melt away the upset expression you had. Ay, mi princesa, I have to make sure all these tontos are good enough for you, hmm? You're far more precious to me than your idiota brother and cousins.
Although his words were meant to soothe your frustrations, they just made you feel uneasy - you were also a hot blooded Sainz, you also wanted to passionately love and be loved! But it seemed that as time passed and everyone around you brought their paramours to the Mallorca vacation home, you would always remain the sweet little princessa, the youngest and innocent cousin.
You'd put your love life to the side for the past year, focusing on your rapidly expanding business portfolio. So when Carlos mentioned one of his friends had signed a very generous contract this season, and needed advice of how to invest a good chunk of it, you'd immediately said yes without knowing who it was. You hadn't expected to find yourself sitting across the table from Max Verstappen. Of course, you and Max had met many times when he and Carlos had raced on the same junior team - but you'd been much younger then. You remember always thinking the serious, intense Dutch boy had been so handsome, had even developed a schoolgirl's crush on him - but as your older brother's racing team mate who was notorious for enraged outbursts, he was off limits to you in your family's eyes and had ignored you most of the time.
But now, years later, things were quite different with you being a 26 year old woman, fully matured into your gorgeous curves and thick lips, and those famous Sainz wide brown eyes, framed with long lashes. Even now though, the tall Dutchman made your heart flutter when he laughed at your apology for the delay in setting up a meeting, your idiota tonto of an older brother had conveniently forgotten to mention that his friend happened to be the current F1 world champion. You two shared a delicious lunch at the beach club overlooking the stunning Monaco marina, stimulating conversation flowing over a glass of light white wine and fresh oysters. Although you discussed various business plans, you were surprised to find how easy it was to laugh at many other things with the handsome driver, from childhood memories to how you’d found college in London to his two cats named after nightclubs and your one dog dutifully named after your childhood favourite rapper - Snoop.
You couldn't help but blush whenever Max smiled at you with his enticing lips, looking so gorgeous with his tousled blonde hair and dressed in a rare white linen shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and thick biceps.
After you'd covered the different investment options he could go for and he had selected the ones that peaked his interest, you wrapped up the business meeting by reaching into your Chanel purse to pull out your card - you always had a rule to pay for your clients and give them a first class experience.
To your surprise, Max had already given his black Amex to the waiter when you had touched up your lipgloss in the bathroom earlier. At your gentle protests, he explained that his mother would kill him if he didn't look after Carlos' younger sister - as would your father, he joked. You laughed easily with him as he walked you back to your car, a cute Mini Cooper, agreeing that yes, your papa probably would have the head of any man who didn't treat his princessa right. As you drove off, you couldn't help the longing in your heart for wanting Max to pay because he cared for you, found you to be a beautiful woman, rather than because he was looking after Carlos' younger sister.
You made sure to put those unprofessional desires to the back of your mind at your next meeting 2 weeks later, this time at your small but luxurious office in a ocean-facing building in downtown Monaco. You'd recently moved here with your small team, you explained as you greeted him at the entryway to guide him to the elevators, as so much of your clientele was based in the area. In the reflective surface of the elevator walls, you don't miss how his intense blue eyes rake down the back of your curvy figure, taking in how the dress you’d specifically chosen for today hugs you just right, especially over your ass - where his gaze lingers for a second too long.
You’re blushing again as you exit, pleased that you had drawn his attention. He remains the perfect gentleman for the rest of your meeting, listening intently as you break down the personalised investment plan your company has created for him. He’s very impressed with your selection, every option carefully curated to preference he’d mentioned at your lunch, even in passing, and presented in a minimalist layout, just as he liked it. His praise brings back the same desire and want you felt, unable to dampen it this time.
Over the next three months you meet Max to review the physical investment options you’d agreed on. If you’re being honest, this sort of task would generally be managed by a more junior executive at your small firm - but you told yourself that you were choosing to meet him yourself because he was such a VIP client, and not because you felt a rapidly growing attraction to the handsome blonde. And after touring the various developing high rise complexes or promising start up businesses that his investments were going to, you two would always end up going for lunch and a drink together afterwards. And sometimes you’d see him on his morning jogs while you walked your dog. Seeing Max kneel down to play with Snoop had been so adorable you’d asked if he knew a good bakery in the area, hoping he would join you. To your delight he did, taking you for a rich hot chocolate and freshly baked croissant that ended up happening regularly, especially once he invited you to join his group for padel. But even when you started seeing him so often, Max remained the perfect gentleman, never letting his gaze drift or hands wander after that one time in the elevator. So you reminded yourself not to read into it when he offered to show you his favourite sights of Monaco, as you’d still recently moved here, taking you for long drive along the beautiful Azure coast.
Despite your internal turmoil, you’d dressed in a pretty floral minidress, hoping he might enjoy the view of your soft thighs. But instead, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from admiring how sexy he’d looked when driving, one hand on the wheel, showcasing his thick, veiny arms and the other resting on the console. As he’d chatted away, confidently navigating the winding roads, you couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do if you redirected his large hand to grip your thigh instead. You’d instantly blushed when you heard him calling your name, realising that you’d tuned him out and blamed it on the heat. So he took an exit and next thing you were enjoying the most delicious strawberry gelato you’d tasted, moaning from the taste and licking up a rivulet that had run down your hand. When you looked over to Max to thank him for introducing this place, you have to hold back a gasp at how hungrily his gaze is fixed on your pouting lips. But then the sun catches your eye at a sharp angle and you blink, and when you look again the look is gone and he’s laughing at the sight of Snoop desperately trying to lick your ice cream out the car window.
Your poor little heart can’t take all this one sided attraction, you desperately needed to know if Max felt any desire to you like you felt for him. So a couple of weeks later, when you were meeting him for the last official signing of asset acquisitions at one of the downtown Monaco high rise buildings, you make sure you’re wearing another one of your irresistible dresses in an effort to catch his eye. As you reach past him to grab the pen he’d sign with, you can’t resist pressing your soft, plush tits against his large bicep, which looked so good again in a half zipped knit sweater. His gaze automatically flickers down to your low cut sweetheart neckline, lingering on your cleavage pushed against him a beat to long to be considered polite, before he draws his attention back up to your blushing face, to your pink glossed lips that you now bite. You don't miss the dark hunger swirling in his blue eyes, the tension thickening and sparks crackling, his hand reaching up to brush your cheek as both of you lean in-
Then your phone rings, your brother's contact photo lighting up the screen, ruining the moment. You curse internally at Carlos for cockblocking you even when he wasn't physically present, but you take his call just in case it was important (it wasn't. The idiota just wanted to complain about how Spain had lost the football to England). When you furiously whisper at Carlos to shut the hell up before hanging up and turning back around, Max is back to the almost infuriating gentleman self he is around you, handing you the signed papers with a polite smile. You try not to let the disappointment on your face show, because you couldn't figure out why the Dutchman didn't seem interested in pursuing you when you'd seen him out at the Monaco clubs, arms around pretty girls and flirting easily. Did he not find you pretty like he found them?
After the paperwork is all done and Max is walking you back to your car, he offers to take you out for a final celebration, this time an intimate dinner instead of your usual sunny beachside lunches. You spent the better part of an hour trying to pick the most tempting outfit, and then another hour applying your makeup to flatter your already pretty, dark features. You wanted to look absolutely perfect for him, knowing this might be the last chance you'd have in a while to use work as an excuse. And when Max saw you walk out as he leaned against his sleek discreet black Audi, you couldn't stop the pleased flush that spread across your cheeks when he raked his gaze over your short form, taking in how the elegant burgundy full length dress clung to your curves, complimenting you on how lovely you looked tonight, even more so than usual. You sweetly returned the compliment, which wasn't hard to do as Max looked so handsome in a baby blue button up and fitted pants, his broad muscles and large frame perfectly highlighted for you to ogle.
And after intimate Spanish dinner over soft candelight, laughing and sharing your latest stories of the week, enjoying more than a single glass of red wine for once, you couldn't help but hope that this would be it, the night where something finally happened between the two of you, because surely Max had just been holding back out of professional boundaries, yes? So after Max generously paid for dinner - as per usual - you accepted his offer to drive you home. The gold sparkly heels you'd worn worked very well to make your ass pop even more as you confidently walked - something that you made sure to capitalise on by walking ahead of Max as you left the restaurant.
And you'd been so sure all signs pointed to romance when he pulled up in front of your apartment, and you asked if he'd like to come enjoy the night view from your balcony with another glass of wine, and he'd briefly hesitated before saying Yes, of course, Schatje. You beam at him, melting at his use of the Dutch nickname, which he'd told you meant sweetheart when you'd curiously asked him when he began absentmindedly calling you that a few weeks ago. And it felt so natural to be up on your balcony with him, giggling with a bottle of wine after trashing him at Monopoly, sitting so close that you could feel his warmth radiating through his shirt as you kicked off your heels and sat down on the outdoor settee. And when he continued talking easily about all the ways he was certain you cheated when you lean your head against his strong shoulder, you took it as another promising sign. But then, when you'd looked up at him with your brown doe eyes and thick lashes, desperately hoping he would lean in because you thought the moment had been right - you'd only been met with disappointment after a long, long moment when he turned his soft blue eyes away. He’d tensed, saying he was sorry for keeping you up so late, he should head off now - avoiding your gaze as your eyes swelled as you watched him leave out the front door.
You didn’t see Max for the next two weeks after that, avoiding walking your usual weekend route or tagging along to the padel games. You felt so embarrassed that perhaps you’d read the signals wrong, and also so frustrated that you couldn’t be more like your older brother who had no problem flirting blatantly with others or giving them an open mouthed kiss. Would Max even like a girl who did that? Wasn’t he meant to make the first move as proof that he wanted you? Glumly, you moped about at work and at home, watching Bridgerton and eating strawberry ice cream out of the carton. When your family chat blew up as it approached the time of the year where you’d all meet up and spend time at the Mallorca home, you had already texted that you weren’t coming - but then found yourself having to answer multiple angry calls in Spanish from various relatives and decided it was just easier to give in.
Packing a bag with the essentials - sunglasses, bikinis and raunchy romance novels - you headed to the vacation home a week early to unwind and prepare yourself for the chaos that was your loving family, knowing that everyone would turn up with their latest boyfriend and girlfriend and you’d be teased about how you were too sweet and shy as usual. Sweet and shy your ass, you thought moodily, sipping on a frozen margarita you made as you lounged in a bikini by the pool.
Schatje?
You whirl around, thinking you were imaging things now, but there Max stood, looking as hot as ever in that favourite white linen shirt of yours. And it was open down the front too, revealing his toned broad chest to you for the first time. You got so distracted that you didn’t hear him the first time asking what you were doing there - to which you had to each arch a brow and haughtily reply that this was the Sainz family home, shouldn't he explain why he was here?
Turns out Carlos had apparently thought Max was too keyed up the past few weeks and getting twitchily close to the Ferraris on race weekends. So your idiota brother had tossed him the spare keys to unwind in the empty villa before everyone showed up - except for you. But I’ll leave, you were here first - Max had said, but you sighed, still wanting to be an accomodating host like your family had raised you to be, despite your hurt feelings, and generously said the villa was huge, you two could easily just stay out of each other’s way?
So you did both stay, keeping to opposite ends of the villa - at least for the first few hours, anyway. Max had been unable to resist the smell of the enchiladas you’d cooked up for dinner and you hadn’t been able to stop drinking the ice cold G&Ts he poured whenever you asked. And a couple of days passed like that, you two easily slipping into friendship again, ignoring the tension on your balcony from last time. But seeing Max in your summer home stirred up that desire within you, made you ache for him and leave your bikini bottoms all sticky and wet after you’d stare at his shirtless, muscley back from behind your sunglasses all afternoon. It was pathetic, really, that you had the real man right there in front of you but couldn’t seem to charm him.
And the torture didn’t stop even when he was out of your sight, when you woke up flushed in the middle of the night, heady from the pleasure of a recurrent dream you’d been having lately about a certain tall blonde Dutchman having his way with you as he bent you over your office desk and dirtily whispered a you going to let me cum inside you, schatje? Instead of helplessly pining, you decided to give your frustrated little pussy some well deserved relief that night. Opening your French doors out the the garden, you made yourself comfortable on the soft outdoor sofa on the patio as you slid up your silky nightdress and took your favourite bullet vibrator right where you ached the most. It was risky, sure - but it was your house, and it was far too hot in the summer heat to get worked up indoors. Besides, Max was asleep, all the way on the other side of the villa. There was no chance of him hearing what you were doing this many doors down.
So that’s why you didn’t hold your sweet moans back, getting louder and louder, eyes fluttering shut from the delicious pleasure your toy was bringing you, moaning his name on your lips just like you’d been doing in the dream. What you hadn't yet realised was that Max was very accustomed to being up at odd hours, gaming and sim racing away - but the summer heat had been intolerable as he ran warm anyway. And you certainly didn’t notice that your pretty show had caught the attention of the very man it was dedicated to, who was out on a late night walk to cool off.
He’d planned on minding his own business, truly, when he’d seen you throw your head back in pleasure - knowing that you were forbidden fruit as Carlo's little sister, having grown up protected and so naively experienced to the world of sin Max had been exposed to. You were far too precious, too pure, for someone as destructive and aggressive as him to touch. Really, he had planned on walking right back to his room, taking a cold shower and maybe jerking off to hypnotising image of you in a silk slip under the moonlight.
But then he heard you breathily call his name, your sweet voice calling out for Maxie, all high pitched as you remained lost in your fantasy. It’s what you’d called him when you were little, watching him admiringly from the junior Redbull garage as he and Carlos walked back from a race.
All shreds of self control he’d had to avoid getting involved with his friend’s sweet, protected younger sister - all got tossed aside. So when you became frustrated with your toy, biting your lip and scrunching your eyebrows cutely because it just wasn’t hitting the way you wanted - he couldn’t resist huskily asking if you want to try out the real thing, prinses?
You gasped, snapping your soft thighs closed and jolting upright, only to look horrified as you saw Max leaning against the patio railing, thick arms crossed across his shirtless figure. His hungry gaze and wicked smirk made it clear he’d seen you playing with your most intimate parts while moaning his name like a desperate little slut. You’d stammered out an apology, trying to talk your way out of the shameless scene, half painfully embarrassed and half furious he'd watched you so intensely even though he'd rejected you before. Max tilts his head, expression unreadable as he takes in your weak excuses. To your surprise, he stalks forward, standing in front of your seated form, murmuring that if you were truly sorry you’d make it up to him by picking up where you'd left off your cute little show.
You blinked, face flushed, asking him confusedly that you didn’t understand, you’d thought that he wasn’t interested in you, hadn’t found you pretty, after all the months of tension he’d walked away on the balcony-
Oh, schatje, Max sighed, large palm reaching out to brush your plush cheeks as he looked down at your upset face, his finger lingering against your pouting lips. I wanted you the moment I saw you in that black dress at our very first lunch. Your doe eyes widened as he continues, explaining how truly, he’d held back on his twisted desires for his friend's little sister, who he was expected to look after - but instead had been having filthy thoughts about, hmm? He’d used his other hand to palm the growing bulge then, making you gasp at the size even though his sweats. The things I’ve been thinking about, sweet girl…they're far too dirty for such a pure angel like you.
Heat spread through your body at his words, a dusty pink flush on your face. Shyly, you spread your legs wide open again, letting him see all of you, all of the wetness that dripped down as you weren’t wearing any panties underneath your nightdress. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted this, how you weren’t some precious little doll that everyone thought you were. So even though it made you blush furiously, you looked right at him as you leaned back on the settee and slowly slid a cute manicured finger down your slit before entering yourself. The desire in Max's wide pupils was obvious as you moaned his name again, coyly mentioning that you'd always wondered if he'd be able to better stretch you out, your tiny fingers and toys couldn’t do the job?
You finally break him then, and he growls and bends down to pull you towards him, his broad shoulders blocking out the sky but his sea blue eyes just as gorgeous to look at as the stars. You giggle at how enamoured he looks gazing down at you, but then you’re gasping into his mouth as he leans down to capture your lips with his. And your gasps turn to moans as the filthy kiss previews what comes next. Soon his lips are trailing down your delicate neck, over your sensitive tan nipples that Max swirls his skilled tongue around, murmuring that your tits were so goddamn pretty as his large hands squeeze the juicy flesh. You’re tangling your fingers in his soft hair as he teasingly sucks on your hardened nubs, arching into his mouth and tossing your head back.
And his wet kisses move lower, over your thick hips, and then he’s blowing softly over your exposed dripping pussy, holding your soft thighs open with a strong grip. Then he’s leaving slow licks up your dripping slit with a broad swipe as he chuckles that he’d been dreaming about this, too.
It’s all too much for you and you’re cumming all over his wicked tongue, and then his wide fingers, and then - once you beg for it and make his ears go pink from hearing you moan Maxie - you also cum all over his thick cock. It’s just as pretty and swollen as you’d fantasied about, splitting you open in a way no man had ever been able to before. You’re screaming and squirting around it, eyes rolling back at the mind blowing pleasure you’re finally recieving.
He kisses you sweetly after you both have had your fill of multiple rounds, murmuring how good you’d been for him, how much he loved it, loved you. You blush under the praise and fall asleep on his broad chest, still lying there on the outdoor settee and enjoying the warmth of his muscled arms protecting you from the cool night’s breeze.
And when morning comes you’re suddenly anxious that it was just a one time thing, that he would tell you he disliked it, that he should never have slept with Carlos’ sister. But to your delight it it seems Max had been holding back on how much he’d been falling for you too. He shows you just how much after the two of you go for a swim in the azure seawater and eat a lazy brunch by the pool. He’s raking his heated gaze shamelessly over your juicy ass, droplets still drying off as you lounge on the sunbed in a little bikini. You’ve barely finished your mango smoothie when he’s yanking the knots and palming greedily with his large hands. Fuck, do you know how many times I thought about ripping open those tight dresses of yours and doing this?
You smirk rather smugly and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, where he’s begun sliding his raging erection along your bouncy cheeks, your soft flesh enveloping the hard length. Why do you think I wore them? You respond teasingly. Definitely not what I normally wear to a client meeting.
He growls, speeding up his thrusts along your fat cheeks and delivering harsh smack to your ass as punishment for your seductive techniques. You squeal excitedly from the tingles shooting to your clit from his forceful slap. You jiggle your hips tantalisingly, pushing back on him and he licks his lips before delivering more harsh smacks to your quickly reddening ass. You moan wantonly, ass lifted up in the air and your blushing face buried deep in a cushion when he splatters his cum all over your back, coating your caramel skin.
You swipe a finger through it to teasingly lick it up, sultrily commented on how tasty his cum was. His eyes widen at your unexpected dirty words, blood rushing to his cock again. And then you’re walking off to go prep dinner ingredients, letting him enjoy the view of your bouncing bum and leaving him on edge. He’d certainly made you wait, after all. A Sainz was nothing if not petty when they wanted to be. You play nice that afternoon, before springing your attack in the evening by slyly asking him if he’d teach you how to please him with your mouth next?
He’d choked on his empanada, his expression cutely flustered at the pleasurable idea. You’d fluttered your lashes and said please, Maxie, I want to make you feel good like you did to me last night and he was a goner when he looked into your brown doe eyes. So he taught you, his fingers threading through your pretty curls as you look up adoringly at him from where you kneeled. He quickly realised that although your eyes looked wide and innocent, your sweet mouth was anything but.
Safe to say, when your family finally joined you later on and took one look at how their princessa had ensared a 6 foot Dutch millionaire who followed her around like a lovesick puppy, you eared a new nickname. El tentadora de Monaco. You’d giggled from your seat in Max’s warm lap, ignoring the bewildered gaze of the idiota Carlos as even your father had given the new couple his blessing. The temptress of Monaco had a nice ring to it, sí?
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed anon!! As always lmk what you think and feel free to send more requests!!
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wileys-russo · 2 months ago
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sleepless nights II a.putellas
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sleepless nights II a.putellas
your eyes fluttered open as a sudden chill whipped through the bedroom, curtain waving madly with the howling wind which had just set in through the window which was cracked open, the low angry growl of thunder in the distance indicating a storm was almost upon you.
squinting tiredly in the dark you saw from the alarm clock on your bedside table it was just past three in the morning, the blaring green numbers a little blurry as you wiped at the sleep which had crusted over in the corner of your eyes.
reaching out groggily for your girlfriend you hoped to bury yourself in her embrace and steal her body warmth, though you frowned feeling only cold empty sheets beside you, signalling wherever the blonde had gone she'd been gone for awhile.
With a heave you pulled yourself into a sitting position, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as goosebumps began to form on your bare legs at the temperature change.
it was rare for barcelona to be so cool this time of year but the weather had been all over the place lately, and there had been storms forecast all week long and now it seemed for once they had finally predicted correctly as the grumble of thunder grew ever closer.
swinging yourself out of bed you shuffled over to the open window, forcing it closed with a grunt and a small bang as the curtains fell deathly still once again, a small sigh of relief sounding as the room was quiet again.
you could have sworn either yourself or alexia had closed the window once your movie finished, the two of you curled up in bed watching as the couch just wasn't as comfortable and disallowed you from sprawling out on top of your girlfriend like you so adored to.
though when the movie finished and alexia had long fallen soundly asleep beneath you it was well after midnight, and so the chances of you simply turning off the television and passing out with the window still open was not unlikely.
burying your chin within the collar of your girlfriends hoodie drowning your body you made your way over to the bedroom door, letting out a yelp of pain when you stubbed your toe on the corner of the wooden storage trunk which sat at the end of the bed.
"maldita caja estúpida!" you cursed, hopping up and down and grimacing, wishing away the pain which was throbbing through your left foot. the brief pause allowing your eyes to adjust a little more to the dark you exhaled with a huff and grabbed the door handle, gently pulling it open with a small creak.
the hallway light was off though you could see a gentle blue hue radiating out from the closed door which connected to the living room, a frown creasing into your eyebrows at the sight.
your girlfriend being the superstar footballer she was, was obviously quite a busy woman and didn't technically live with you just yet, though there was no doubt she spent much more time here than at her own apartment.
you'd discussed moving in officially, but agreeing you both owned far too much stuff between you you'd taken inspiration from your girlfriends best friend and really alexia's apartment now existed as a huge storage locker, with her spending most nights a week in your bed with you.
it was really only training, meetings, international breaks or away matches in which alexia was called away from the domestic bubble of bliss she existed in within the four walls of your apartment.
as far as you were both concerned, it may as well have been much her home as it was yours, because after all really, to alexia you were her home.
the two of you had met a few years ago, and started officially dating almost two years ago after months of dancing around your true feelings for one another, with your anniversary set to be next month.
in among struggling your way through a journalism degree at university you worked nights at a small tapas restaurant on the outskirts of barcelona.
it hardly covered your bills between tuition and rent, and meant you still had to spend countless hours of your weekends tutoring to make ends meet. but you'd worked there nearly four years now and had grown rather attached to the place and all the people who came with it, it was like a little family.
the girls of the barcelona womens team were far from a stranger to the residents of barcelona, many were yet to forget the way she'd lead both club and country to countless trophies and victories over the years.
in turn one maria león and her family and friends were frequented visitors to the small tapas bar, its obscure location and mostly repeat elderly clientele making it an ideal place for the defender to blend in, well as much as she could.
you weren't stupid you knew exactly who she was, and her girlfriend ingrid, though you never held it against them and made sure to treat them the same as you would any other customer, feeling quite sorry for them when ever so occasionally their meal would be interrupted with someone wanting a photo or a moment of their time.
you grew accustomed to the couples presence as they had with yours and everyone else who worked there, until one day they didn't come with family.
instead you were jolted from your daydreams as maria burst in followed by at least ten other boisterous girls, most of which you recognized to be her teammates.
you were quick to make your way over to take their order as you caught ingrids eye and she gave a soft smile and a small nod, starting at one end of the table and gradually making your way down.
"the usual for you two?" you spoke as you arrived before ingrid and maria, recounting what you knew they always ordered, first looking to maria with a smile who nodded her head with an appreciative wink, then fell to ingrid who smiled, shaking her head slightly at how predictable they had seemingly become.
"-and I don't know your order because I haven't seen you here before." your eyes fell to the brunette sat on maria's other side with a friendly smile, the girl averting her own gaze to the menu in front of her.
of course even if you didn't know her order, you knew who she was, you'd have to live under a rock now to know who she was, but you were determined to treat them all with the same respect and sense of humility that had drawn the couple to suggest the bar for the team night out in the first place.
"this is alexia, el capitána." maria grinned as alexia gave her a look and bumped her shoulder into hers as you smiled, rocking back and forth on your heels awaiting her order.
when finally she did order you quickly ran through the whole docket with the table to make sure you didn't miss anything. "eh and some bread? for the table." alexia spoke up quietly but kindly as you send the girl a warm smile with a nod, scribbling it down on your notepad.
"gracias guapa." the brunette returned your smile as you tried not to let your cheeks heat up at the compliment, maria digging her elbow into her friends side with a cheeky grin when you weren't looking as the older girl gave her a fierce glare and shoved her away.
"i-uh lo siento." alexia apologised quickly as you assured it was more than fine, though still maybe a little flustered your pen slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor as you wiped your hand on your pants, small beads of sweat having formed on your palms.
what was happening to you?
mumbling an apology you bent down to pick it up, though as you reached for it a hand had already settled beneath your own.
a small spark seemed to shoot up your arm at the contact and as you glanced up you were met with a pair of bright hazel eyes staring right back at you.
at the time weren't sure why, but your stomach flipped at the sight.
alexia was quick to withdraw her hand as you stood to your feet, slender fingers offering you the pen and a small smile.
"gracias." you forced out as you took it from her grasp, ingrid and mapi watching on amused at the awkward interaction unfolding before them, nobody else paying you any attention.
"food will be done soon." you rambled out flashing a shy smile in her direction, your cheeks flushed red with colour as you turned on heel and hurried off back to the kitchen, heart pounding in your chest as alexia watched you go.
and from then, the rest was a story you still loved to tease the blushy catalan about.
you jumped slightly as a crack of lightning hit the sky and the hallway lit up around you like a christmas tree before plunging back into darkness.
a loud roar of thunder let you know the storm had now arrived, and you heard the awaited noise of raindrops sloshing against the window panes.
the torrential downpour having begun you pulled open the door stepping out into the living room, the sound of the storm somewhat drowned out by the noise of the tv.
you instantly noticed your girlfriend curled up on the corner of the couch, her head turning quickly toward you having heard the door open.
"hola cari." you greeted with a soft smile, arriving before her. you knew the older girl well enough to know something was bothering her without even needing to ask, the nights spent watching old barcelona games a coping mechanism of sorts for her when she was battling with something.
"mi amor." the blonde greeted you returning your smile, and even after how much time had passed the terms of endearment which often fell from her lips never failed to make you go all warm and fuzzy.
"did I wake you?" alexia asked worriedly as you straddled her lap, knees resting either side of her hips, large strong her hands falling to your bare thighs.
"no amor, the storm did." you reassured her quickly, placing your hands on her cheeks and gently pecking her lips. "i promise." you spoke again, a little more firmly this time as she opened her mouth, no doubt to question again if she'd woken you.
her body vibrated beneath you with a small chuckle at how well you knew her. "estás bien?"  you asked curiously, head tilted slightly to the side as your eyes searched the midfielders eyes for signs of discomfort or sadness.
the older girl nodded wordlessly, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of your thumb as it ghosted tenderly over her bottom lip. "promise." alexia spoke before you could, her tone mocking your earlier words as her nose scrunched up with an amused smile.
"ha ha." you droned sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, hands moving from where they cupped her cheeks to wrap around her neck, arms settled comfortably on her shoulders as hers wrapped around your waist, pulling your body even closer into hers.
you knew better than to push her for answers on why she was really up, the stubborn blonde she would tell you when she was ready.
"you are thinking very loudly preciosa." alexia chuckled, pressing her forehead against yours, practically able to hear the cogs turning as you tried to think back to what might be bothering her.
"cannot be as loud as you snore querida." you teased lightly, watching her mouth form a small o of surprise and she pulled away. "oye tonta i do not snore!" she protested with a frown, crease in her eyebrows strengthening as her annoyance grew.
"you do snore. amor would i lie to you?" you grinned, the smile spreading wider across your face as the older girl huffed, exhaling a small puff of air from her flared nostrils.
"sí, mentiroso." alexia poked her fingers into your side eliciting a small squeal from you as you batted away her hands.
the smile not dropping from either of your faces you leant in and connected your lips to your girlfriends, her arms wrapping back around your waist before you pulled away.
"i love you." you whispered sincerely, pressing your forehead back to hers. "i love you." alexia echoed back, tilting her head up to sweetly kiss your nose making you grin and peck her lips a few more times.
"which game is this one?" you asked, turning your neck to glance at the tv behind you. "the 2011 champions league semi final first leg, barça and real madrid." alexia answered as you slid gently off of her, taking up the seat beside her instead and stretching your bare legs over her lap.
"go to bed cariño, you have been out working all day." alexia rasped with a smile, catching your eyes drooping slightly as she gently nudged your knee, eyes shining with concern which you waved off.
"no i am awake now, i have tomorrow off amor. you train in the morning, sí? " you questioned as the girl nodded her head, she had training and then nothing on for the next two days, and she intended to spend both with you.
"i was looking for this cari."  the girl tugged at the bottom of your hoodie, the over sized grey and now slightly faded material had the logo of your old university draped across the front, it had always been your favorite.
"ale i have had it on all afternoon since we showered, you did not notice?" you laughed with a curious raise of your eyebrows.
"mm no princesa i was a little busy thinking about what we did in the shower." alexia smiled suggestively, your cheeks flushing with warmth at the memory of her staring up at you from between your thighs, eyes glowing with lust.
"bueno, no puedes tenerlo." you remarked as you bit back a smile, wrapping your arms around yourself stubbornly. "amor you know i could get it off, sí?" the older girl smirked defiantly, and you rolled your eyes but couldn't argue she was stronger than you.
"alexia no por favor i only have a t-shirt on and i do not have pants, there is a whole room of clothes you can go get if you are cold!" you kicked her lightly as her smirk grew and she chuckled.
"bien. so go get pants and give me the hoodie!" alexia countered, just as stubborn as you if not more.
"no! i asked you before we went to bed to get me pants and you pretended to be sleeping." you huffed at the memory, your girlfriend was a terrible actress with her over dramatic breathing and inability not to smile when you called her out on it.
"no. i want this one!" your girlfriend frowned, poking your stomach as you squealed and kicked her. "tonta you have so many, go get one!" you shooed your hands at her and turned back toward the tv.
"but this one smells like you and is more comfortable." alexia's hands bunched around the soft grey material, pulling you into a sitting position, your legs still draped over her lap.
"ale!" you couldn't help but laugh as her nose tucked into your neck, gentle pleadings mumbled against your skin, hands sneaking up the inside of said hoodie, goosebumps prickling beneath her touch.
"bien, tú ganas! go get me one of yours and we can trade." you bargained with a groan, nodding over her shoulder to the bedroom, the closet overflowing with articles of clothing belonging to the both of you even if it had started off as yours.
"you do not need my hoodie cariño, i am here." alexia grinned as you scoffed, opening and closing your mouth trying to find the right words to continue arguing with her.
"do not bother amor, i always win." alexia whispered against your lips with a smirk, pressing hers against them and swallowing any protest you attempted.
"stop pouting bebita." alexia chuckled as you stood up with a huff, pulling the hoodie off of your body and glaring down at her, hauling the article of clothing at her face.
"sí maybe you should go back to bed, tan gruñón." alexia teased again as she pulled on your hoodie over her tank top, reaching out to quickly grab your hand as you scoffed turned to head toward the bedroom.
"ven aquí." the older girl laughed, pulling you to lay down between her legs as she stretched out down the length of the couch, pulling the blanket which was draped across the back of the couch on top of the two of you.
"mi niña gruñona." alexia teased quietly as you lazily swatted her, body relaxing in her hold as her now hoodie clad arms wrapped around you, bare legs intertwining with hers beneath the blankets as the two of you tuned into the game.
"alba hates storms, she would always wake me up when the thunder started." alexia spoke up quietly after awhile.
"when we were little, we would always make a big fort in her room and our papi...he somehow always knew, would come and lay with us." alexia confessed and your heart panged at the reveal of maybe the real reason she had gotten up.
"storms remind me of him." alexia added on as gently you reached out and slipped your hand into hers with a soft squeeze. "you miss him." you spoke quietly, knowing the last thing she would want to hear was some sort of grief advice or statement he was always with her, she hated pity, especially from you.
"sí, but i know he would be proud of alba and i." alexia smiled sadly as you brought your intertwined fingers closer, tenderly kissing her knuckles and then craning your head up a little to peck her lips before settling back down.
and that's how the two of you spent the next few hours, wrapped up in one another's embrace, limbs intertwined, swapping and recounting many stories of your childhoods, the downpour of rained drowned out by the roar of the crowd on the tv before you.
just another sleepless night.
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shockercoco · 5 months ago
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Chasing Feelings
Tyler Owens x reader
warnings - mutual pining, jealous!reader, some swear words, fluff
word count - 2838
a/n - this was literally supposed to come out within a week of the release of twisters, but I’ve been gone for a month lol. I took so many breaks while writing this, so I'm not completely sure everything goes together, but it should. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)
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You’ve had a crush on Tyler ever since the day you met him, and to you, he was way out of your league. You also weren’t the only one who felt this way; the amount of girls who showed up at empty fields just to meet Tyler was insane, but could you really blame them?
Tyler has so much charisma to the point where it seems like he’s attracted to everyone he meets. 
When he stares directly into everyone’s eyes, giving them his undivided attention, and flashes that charming smile of his, it’s kind of hard to tell who he actually is or isn’t flirting with. 
You, of course, were no different, so how the hell were you supposed to know that he liked you back?
Tyler was from Arkansas and he and his team decided to move to Oklahoma to storm chase several seasons ago. When he first showed up that day at the gas station with Boone filming his every move, you thought that he was just another adrenaline junky wanting to see a tornado  up close for views. At the time you were a part of another group of chasers from Oklahoma, and since you had already made up your mind about him, you decided it was best to ignore him.
But, he made it hard.
You were surprised to see him walk over to your group and start chatting it up with a couple of your teammates. Turns out, they knew him from his youtube channel and were fans. Having him so close to you made it easier to check him out, which Tyler had noticed, but never called you out for it.
He came up to introduce himself to you, giving you a smile and taking off his sunglasses as he walked towards you. 
“You’re a long way from home,” you had told him – you had overheard him talking about his hometown in Arkansas.
“This is my home now,” he had said.
He had pointed out that he was familiar with some of your work and began joking around with you so casually like he had known you his whole life. Unfortunately, you became immediately hooked.
You spent that night binging all of his videos and past live streams because you were oh so wrong about him.
That day led you to where you are now, a part of Tyler’s crew and regularly going out on chases for the fun of it.
“How are you doin’ today, Bambi?” you hear Tyler walk up and come stand next to you as you adjust the lens on your camera. You, and all the other crews, were currently at a gas station preparing for the coming storm.
When he had first given you that nickname, you had told him it was basic, which resulted in him smirking and saying, “Ain’t nothing basic about you.”
You still think about that moment to this day.
“Just fine, Tyler, is there something I can help you with?” you answer, not taking your eyes off your camera.
“What, I can’t talk to my favorite person?” he asks. 
You can hear the smile in his voice, and when you finally turn around to look at him, you aren’t surprised to see it spread across his face. “I thought Boone was your favorite person?” you tilt your head at him.
“I can have more than one favorite,” he says, nudging you with his soldier.
You raise your eyebrows and glance over at Boone, who was already looking in your direction with a knowing smile, and say, “I wonder how Boone would feel about that.”
Boone was Tyler’s best friend and had known you had a crush on Tyler the day you joined the team, and since then has repeatedly told you to confess to Tyler. Every time you tell him no, he just tells you yes because according to him Tyler feels the same way about you. It didn’t take long for Dani and Lily to catch on either, but unlike Boone, they don’t pressure you.
“No need to start any trouble,” Tyler jokes, and you laugh at that. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when he hears the sound of more vehicles pull up. 
The two of you turn around in time for you to see the crew exit their vehicles, including Javi and what you know to be Kate. You’ve never met Kate given the fact that she rarely decides to come back home to Oklahoma, but from what you’ve heard she’s really good with tornadoes.
You watch as the pair head towards you – Javi coming up to hug you while Kate goes to hug Tyler. Javi shoots you a look as he glances over at the two, and you quickly give his shoulder a shove, causing him to let out a laugh.
Javi is also amongst those who know you like Tyler. This crush is honestly starting to become a little pathetic.
Kate pulls away from Tyler and looks over at you with a kind smile, holding her hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve heard a lot about you from Javi, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”
According to Boone, Tyler couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kate the last time she was here. At the time your migraines had started to come back so you had decided to sit the chase out, and good thing you did because there was no way you could handle watching that scene unfold.
You offer Kate a smile back as you shake her hand. “Same here, it’s nice to meet you.”
“What brings you city folks out here?” Tyler jokes.
Kate rolls her eyes at the nickname. “I’m doing the same thing the two of you are doing – storm chasing,” she replies as she looks out at the horizon at the clouds forming, her hair moving with the breeze.
“I thought you left Storm Par,” you say to Javi as you motion your head towards the white trucks
“We did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use their equipment. They have some really high tech stuff – we might as well put it to good use,” Javi explains. He then looks over at Kate and gives her a nudge. “Not like we need it since Kate’s here.”
Kate gives him a small smile at the compliment.
“Well, city girl, which direction are we going in today?” Tyler asks as Kate bends down to take a dandelion into her hand. Tyler takes his sunglasses off in order to get a better look at the sky. 
It’s a question Tyler usually asks you when it’s just the two of you in his truck with the rest of the crew following behind in their vehicles. You have no right to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop the feeling of jealousy from growing in your chest. Choosing to ignore it, you take a deep breath and watch Kate, waiting for her answer.
You watch as a gust of wind blows the specks of dandelion out of her hand, causing Kate to look up into the sky at a dark funnel beginning to take form.
“That one,” Kate points.
“Are you sure?” Tyler questions in a teasing manner, one of his eyebrows raising.
“I’ll tell you later,” Kate replies, and then follows it with a question, “ do ya mind if I ride with you?”
“Not at all,” Tyller answers, but then turns to look at you,” as long as my trusty navigator doesn’t mind.”
What the hell are you supposed to say? No? 
You don’t even notice your tense jaw until you open your mouth to answer. “Of course not, you two go ahead,” you tell Tyler, looking between him and Kate as you offer up a smile.
“Well then it’s settled, let’s ride. Just make sure you don’t get me lost,” Tyler smirks as he turns to walk towards his truck. Kate rolls her eyes as she follows him, a small smile on her lips.
Javi turns to you once the pair are out of earshot. “You don’t mind?” he repeats your words, not believing you for a second.
“I don’t,” you give him a shrug as you begin walking towards his Storm Par truck. Javi follows right behind you, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Mhm. You look like you were about to pop a blood vessel,” Javi lets out a laugh.
You stop in your tracks and turn to face him. “Was it that obvious?” you ask, your eyes wide.
“Relax, I’m kidding,” his smile drops once he sees the look on your face. You release a breath and continue walking. Once the two of you are in the safety of his truck, Javi asks, “you really like him, huh?”
“Unfortunately,” you huff out. “I’m slowly trying to get over it, though.”
“Why?”
“Because it's a useless little schoolgirl crush, and it’s not like he’s actually going to like me back, so there’s no point in continuing to suffer.”
Javi just hums in response, starting the vehicle and placing his hands on the steering wheel. Then he glances over at you, “I say you should hold out, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Before you can answer, Tyler’s truck pulls up beside you guys on Javi’s side of the car. Tyler leans forward to look over at the two of you before moving his finger in a swirling motion and driving off.
“That’s your man, huh?” Javi gives you a questioning look, his tone light.
You let out a small laugh, “Just drive the damn truck, Javi.”
The chase was eventful as always. Kate’s instincts were right and led the group right into the tornado’s path, where Tyler stopped to anchor his truck. The rest of you hung back as you watched Tyler shoot fireworks into the eye of the storm. 
Even though you had some distance on them, you could still hear the hoots and hollers coming from their spot in the field. The group of tornado watchers that had decided to join the chase got out of their vehicles to join the celebration.
Javi looks over at you and shakes his head in fake disappointment, resulting in you rolling your eyes.
After the chase everyone decides to go out for drinks before heading to the motel. From your spot at the bar next to Javi, you can see Tyler in the back of the bar throwing darts with Kate.
“You know, you should blink every once in a while,” you hear a voice say in your ear. You jump and turn around to see Boone standing there with a grin and a beer in one of his hands.
“I don’t think she cares at this point, she has been ignoring me all night for that redneck,” Javi jokes.
You scoff, “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh really? What was I just talking about then?” Javi looks at you with his eyebrows raised. Boone joins him and turns his attention back to you.
Your mouth opens, but you quickly close it when you realize you don’t have an answer. You let out a sigh as you drop your head into your hands. “I’m sorry,” you say in defeat.
“Don’t worry about it,” Javi says, “I just can’t wait for the two of you to finally get together so this can end.”
“You and me both, brother,” Boone says, clinking his beer bottle against Javi’s.
As the night starts to come to an end, you say your goodbyes to the group before heading back to the motel. It was just across the street, and the majority of the people in the area were tornado chasers, so you had no problem walking back by yourself.
After making your way up the stairs and into your room, you decide on taking a quick shower before heading off to bed.
When you get out, you’re about to turn the lights and the tv off so you can go to sleep when you hear a knock on your door. Assuming it was Boone, Dani, or even Lily, you open the door without hesitation, only to reveal Tyler on the other side.
He stands in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a gentle smile and his clothes still on from the day. “Hey, there. You left without sayin’ goodbye.”
“Well I told Boone, Javi, Dani, and Lily goodbye, so technically I did,” you tell him. A gust of wind from the night breeze blows through the doorway, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.
“Ouch, I see I’m not important anymore,” Tyler says.
You let out a small laugh. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re important.”
“You know I do,” he says.
You let out a small hum in response before asking, “So where’s Kate?”
“I’m actually not sure, last time I saw her, I think she was talking with Javi,” he answers, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances back at the parking lot. Then he shrugs and says, “I had to leave her since she was kicking my ass in darts so who cares.”
“Didn’t enjoy having your ego bruised, huh?” you joke, and Tyler rolls his eyes.
“Hey, I don’t have a problem with gettin’ beat by a woman,” he chuckles.
“Whatever you say,” you smile at him. “Was there something else you wanted? I was just about to go to bed.”
Tyler clears his throat. “Uh yeah, there is actually,” he tells you as he stands up straight. You raise your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue. “I was wonderin’, well hopin’, you would want to do somethin’. You know, just the two of us,” he says.
Is he - No, let’s not jump to conclusions.
“Don’t we always?” you question.
“Well, yeah, but I meant…you know,” Tyler begins to scratch the back of his neck, and glances down at the ground, “Like a date.”
You blink. And blink again. And again.
Then when Tyler notices your silence, he adds, “But I totally understand if you don’t want to.”
You blink again. “Like seriously?” you finally ask. Your eyebrows are furrowed, still not completely believing him.
“Yes,” he says.
“Okay,” you nod, a small smile starting to form on your lips.
Okay? That’s all you have to say?
“Yeah?” Tyler perks up, and you nod again.
“Yeah,” you confirm.
Tyler chuckles. “You know, I don’t know why I was nervous. I already knew you had a crush on me.”
You choke on your spit as you give him an incredulous look. “You what?”
“Yeah, and you know I figured you would catch on to me by now, but I wasn’t sure if you were and just ignoring me or what,” he smirks.
“And how exactly was I supposed to catch on?” you ask, adding air quotes at the end.
“I’ve been flirting with you this whole time,” he tells you like it’s obvious.
“Tyler, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you flirt with anyone,” you tell him.
“No, I don’t,” Tyler’s face twists up, and you give him a look. He thinks for a second before saying, “Well, yeah, I guess I do. Kind of.”
“What the hell do you mean ‘kind of’?”
“I feel like my serious flirting is different from my usual charming self,” he shoots you a wink.
“No. No it’s not Tyler. Your usual charming self made me think you like Kate,” you tell him, causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement.
Well…maybe you should’ve kept that last part to yourself.
“You thought I liked Kate?” he smiles, leaning in a little bit more.
You roll your eyes and decide not to answer. Tyler takes your silence as a greenlight to keep talking shit.
“Were you jealous?”
You scoff as your eyes widen, “how dare you!”
“You were!” he exclaims, your reaction giving you away.
Feeling your face begin to heat up and wanting to hide from the embarrassment you back up to be able to close the door in his face. “Goodnight Tyler,” you mumble, fully ready to be alone once again, but of course Tyler puts his hand up to stop you.
“Oh come on, Bambi, don’t shy up on me now,” he smirks, going back to leaning on the door with his palm still on the door.
“Says the one who got nervous to ask me out,” you point out, causing Tyler to laugh. “Goodnight,” you repeat, and once again you try to close the door, but you’re met with resistance.
Tyler’s laughter dies down. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he tells you. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t know,” you reply, giving him a stern look.
“Come on, I promise I won’t tease you anymore.”
You sigh. “Fine.”
Tyler thanks you as you step aside to make room for him to enter the room, but as he walks past you, he says, “But Kate? Really?” 
Yeah, he isn’t going to let this go anytime soon.
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alienzil · 7 months ago
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DP x DC Prompt/notion # 5
Bruce finished logging the last details of tonight’s patrol and reluctantly pulled up contingency file PT-961. “Hnn,” he grunted to the empty cave, staring at the folder on screen but making no move to open it yet. His children were all out for the evening with various excuses: doing research on a case, homework, visiting a friend, etc. He knew they were really with Fenton for a movie night of course…the third such movie night in the last several months since they started sneaking over to visit the man.
He'd put this off long enough, making excuses to himself about assessing the situation before coming to any conclusions, it was past time he did something about it.
Cli-click. There. The file was open.
He’d made this contingency plan years ago, creating it only a days after Dick had moved into the manor and updating as needed as the family had grown but it hadn’t been touched for years.
PT-961 In The Event That More than 50% of the Children Form an Attachment to a New Parental Figure (see file HM-962 if less than 50%) 1. Initial Research: a. Attachment levels – see pages 1-36, graphs I-XLVII b. Assessment of New Parental Figure c. Background and character 2. Intentions – harmful a. If wanting money see contingency files (GD-01 to GD-207) b. If mind control – magic see contingency files (SMM-M-01 to SMM-M-508) c. If mind control – science see contingency files (NAM-ES-01 to NAM-ES-904) d. If criminal intentions see contingency files (CAP-C-201 to CAP-C-508) 3. Intentions – positive a. Option 1. Hire them - See Family reaction projections pages 37-75 - See likelihood of job acceptance pages 76-94 - See possible outcome projections pages 95-127 Note: Option 1 has the highest likelihood of job acceptance and a positive outcome in the event New Parental Figure has an annual income of less than $42,300 and/or is greater than or equal to age 57. b. Option 2. No interference/Let the Children decide what to do - See Children’s time projections pages 128-209, graphs XLVIII-LXX - See possible mission/patrol interference scenarios pages 210-293 - See possible outcomes pages 294-362 Note: Projections for Option 2 show a near 100% likelihood of interference with patrols/mission. Note: Interference resulting in increased potential for injury or delay in treatment of injuries estimated to be 68-94% more likely. c. Option 3. Custody arrangement - See potential arrangements pages 363-482, graphs LXXI-XC - See possible outcomes pages 363-401 Note: The majority of projections show Option 3 is unlikely to be successful. Both the children and New Parental Figure are predicted to be uncooperative in time and custody arrangements with no other controlling factors. d. Option 4. Engage in a relationship - See family reactions page 402-481 - See New Parental Figure reactions pages 482-568 - See possible outcomes pages 569-757 Note: For possible romantic or similar relationships see contingency files (DM-401 to DM-879) Note: In the event Option 1 is nonviable, Option 4 has the highest likelihood of a positive outcome. e. Option 5. Arrange for New Parental Figure to leave - See contingency files (ROI-G-301 to ROI-G-809) Note: High likelihood of one or more children discovering the arrangement for the removal of New Parental Figure leading to high likelihood of estrangement. Also likely to be ethically questionable.
Bruce double checked his notes on Daniel James Fenton. He was 2 years younger than Bruce, earned a high income as a freelance engineer and had multiple patents that gave him enough passive income from royalties that he could easily maintain his current lifestyle without working. There were no indications of any criminal history or ill intentions and thus far all of his interactions with the children appear to have been positive. More than positive given that every single one of his kids was now “secretly” (or secretly in so far as they were aware) spending time with him.
He steepled his hands in front of his face and focused on the data displayed on screen.  The best option to take in this case was obvious.
*****
Ding-Dong! “I’m coming!” Danny yelled as he dropped the laundry basket on the couch and headed for the front door. “Why is there always a package delivery on laundry day?” he muttered to himself. Well, hopefully the delivery guy wouldn’t mind his no clean laundry ensemble. Surely, they’d seen worse than Danny’s ancient, too small NASA t-shirt and the bat themed pajama pants Sam bought for him when he moved to Gotham.
“Hi there, sorry I was doing laundry and…uhh…you’re not the delivery guy”. Danny stared at a sharply dressed smiling man holding a dozen roses on the other side of his door.
“No, I’m Bruce Wayne. I-“
“Oh, shit”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “You know.”
“Umm…” Danny gulped. He was not expecting to deal with Batman on laundry day! “Yes?” He straightened himself, squared his shoulders and looked Bruce Wayne AKA Batman, the father of the kids that his core had recently come to recognize as his own, in the eyes. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I know.”
“Hnnn…” Bruce’s voice dropped a few octaves. Not quite Batman’s signature growl but much lower than he had been speaking. “Well then, that simplifies things. These are for you. Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”
“…What?!”
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spatialwave · 13 days ago
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Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons
➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.
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When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.
Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)
Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 
When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.
However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.
Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 
Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.
Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.
He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.
Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.
He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.
You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.
He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.
Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.
Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 
As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.
But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.
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heeseungsbm · 6 months ago
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・₊✧ Kiss Me Thru The Phone‧₊˚☏♡₊˚
lee heeseung
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₊˚⊹❥pairing❥: idol ! heeseung x female reader
₊୧ ‧₊❥summary❥: the hardest part of heeseung's job was being separated from you; it drove him physically insane. he was determined to find a way to satisfy his insatiable cravings—his intense desire for you, one way or the other.
❥ genre: smut with plot, fluffy ending :)
⊹₊ ⋆❥warnings❥: sexting, heeseung is very horny, phone sex, masturbation (male & female), dirty talk, edging, fingering (female), orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, nicknames (baby, good girl).
❥ heeseung’s dialogue is in pink.
:‧₊˚ ⋅❥wc❥: 7k.
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thank God, the fate tour and its excessive, completely unnecessary extensions had finally come to an end. there wasn't enough of a word to describe how relieved heeseung felt to be done.
don't get him wrong, heeseung loved being an idol. he loved the rush of adrenaline he got from performing in sold out shows, and having hundreds of thousands of beautiful girls losing their composure over him was quite the ego boost.
but tour? uh uh. not heeseung's thing.
while it was an amazing experience in many ways, it had its dreadful downsides; the lack of sleep, the pounding headaches from jet lag, the body sores and bruises from practicing for hours and hours on end, leaving him with literally no energy for anything else. privacy was practically nonexistent, it'd become a distant memory. heeseung literally had no space to himself. everything was a group activity.
however, not seeing you for months was the worst, most agonizing part of it all. who would want to be away from their girlfriend for nearly half the year, and then the longest time they'd get to be with her was 2 weeks? sure you guys made it work, but that didn't make it any less torturous.
at the end of the day, when the arenas went empty and the stage lights grew dark, heeseung was a male with hormones. a man who got horny, just like any other. nothing could fulfill his desires the way you did, he absolutely hated not being able to have sex for long periods of time.
of course there were quick and easy alternatives he could've ran to, but unlike his members who had numerous one night stands and groups of girls signing NDAs to give them a good time in their hotel rooms, heeseung didn't care to fuck anyone who wasn't you. sex to him was intimate, an expression of his passion and devotion that he only took pleasure sharing with one person.
one person he was deeply in love with, which is you.
it was hell on earth having to bust a painfully quiet nut while his members slept in the same room as him, or having to sneak away and jerk off in the bathrooms. even in heeseung's sleep, his filth lived in his fantasies past his eyelids, it's all he could dream about.
sex, sex, and more sex.
every part of you—your lips, your voice, your scent, your body, your touch. it was like a drug to him, and your absence gave him the most excruciating withdrawal. he couldn't wait for the tour to end so he could finally be with you, even if it was just for a little.
he was sick and tired of cumming in his palm.
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backstage, heeseung sat criss-cross applesauce on a chair, fidgeting anxiously and taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down. enhypen had just finished their last show in japan which he was more happy about, but the whole day thoughts of you ate at his brain like acid. his erection would not go down for the life of it, no matter how hard he tried.
he did push ups, played mobile games to try and distract himself, but nothing was working. he was so fucking horny that he couldn't think straight, and his body language spoke louder than words.
the more he fed the thought, the more he realized there was one thing he could do. heeseung kept an entire folder in his phone, loaded with your explicit photos & videos for when he desperately needed to get off. you are the only thing that made him incredibly hard, and the only thing that led him to actually finish. he had no interest in porn, it needed to be to you.
he was helpless and desperate, discreetly covering the unsettling sensitivity in his lap. his heart raced rapidly and he felt like all eyes were on him, focusing on the hardening feeling that he longed to ease. after what felt like hours of contemplation, he decided to surrender to it and text you, knowing you were the only person who could fix this.
maybe he could get something new from you to use, and hopefully find a place to use it.
hello lovebug
he texted you, the ding of your phone striking you confused as you applied soap onto your back. you rinsed off your hand and reached out of the shower curtain for your phone to see who it was.
no other than your boyfriend, of course.
oh hey, you're done for the day?
heeseung sat eagerly waiting for your response, his eyes glued to the screen. when your message came through quickly, he let out a sigh of relief, happy that the wait wasn't long.
thank fucking goodness i am😂
are you busy rn tho baby?
the bubbles indicating typing appeared, and after a few seconds your messages sent.
😂hope it went well
and kind of, in the shower
a sly smile spread across heeseung's face, flashbacks of your naked body gleaming with water running through his mind from when you last showered together.
oh wow
can you do me a favor?
his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he waited in anticipation.
sure what's up
you didn't even have a chance to place your phone back down before you heard another ding, he was replying unusually fast.
can you make me a video while you're in there?
your eyes widened at his text, a mix of surprise and intrigue coming over you at his request.
omg
ok, but what kind? lol
heeseung chewed his inner cheek at your question, thinking of what to say back. he knew exactly what he wanted to see, he just didn't want to come across as... obnoxious.
anything baby
just something to cum to, if that's okay with you?
typical heeseung, always asking for nudes. you didn't mind giving him what he wanted though, it gave you a sense of empowerment and validation to be able to fulfill his need for you with just the simple sight of your body.
you grabbed some more shower gel and squeezed a generous amount of the fruity substance onto your chest, rubbing the suds to create a lather. you posed as you took selfies with your tits in the frame, recording a couple clips for him seductively massaging your bubbly boobs, showing different angles to flaunt your soapy body. after picking the best ones, you pressed send and resumed your shower.
Attatchments: 5 Images, 2 Videos
enjoyyyyy😘😘😘
heeseung felt his phone buzz twice on his thigh as he impatiently shook it on the chair, sending a wave of butterflies straight to his tummy. he scanned his surroundings, and thankfully everyone was busy having their own conversations and doing their own things. but just to surely make sure nobody was looking, he covered the side of his phone screen with his hand as he opened your messages.
damn.
his face lit up at how much you'd spoiled him, gawking at your pretty face complimented by your wet hair, and your plump boobs covered in bubbles. he looked like a dumb dog, his eyes stuck and his lips parted, almost drooling as he watched how your hand fondled your tits.
you're so sexy
i wish i could fuck you right now
he could feel his face getting hot, his palms growing warm and sweaty. his dick pulsed in his pants, he needed to find somewhere to be alone, and soon. otherwise, he was going to cum in his pants.
"hyung, are you okay?" jake asked as he came up from behind, noticing the red flushing of his friend's cheeks and the jittering of his thigh.
heeseung flinched dramatically, nearly dropping his phone on the ground in the process. he quickly shut his phone off and placed it face down on the table, hoping to God that jake hadn't been standing there for long,
"you seem extra tense today," he teased, placing a hand on his elder's shoulder. "your cheeks are as red as a tomato."
"do not fucking touch me," heeseung hissed, removing jake's hand off his shoulder. he released the tension in his body by cracking his neck on both sides, then his knuckles one by one.
"sheesh. somebody needs their dick sucked.." jake joked, bursting into laughter at heeseung's uptight behavior.
well, he wasn't wrong. that's exactly what heeseung needed, actually.
"oh yeah, you wouldn't believe what happened to me earlier," jake exclaimed, his voice full of enthusiasm. "these two girls were hanging out in the lobby, and they would not leave me alone! until i let them give me a 2 for 1 special, if you know what i mean," he elbowed heeseung, a playful grin on his face. "never came so fast in my life. one was twisting with her hand, while the other was sucki—"
"will you shhhhh!" heeseung silenced jake, placing his hand over his mouth. he wanted to gag, he was disgusted by the thought of rotating between multiple girls for pleasure. "im on the phone with my mom, you freak," he quickly came up with a lie, removing his hand from jake's mouth. "do you know somewhere i could take the call, privately?"
jake chuckled, because obviously he wasn't a fucking dumbass. heeseung was the freak here.
"there should be an empty dressing room a few doors down from here. it's down the hall, the third silver door on the left," he said, pointing in the direction of the exit. "hope you and mom have fun," jake shot a wink, before scurrying off to continue flirting with backup dancers.
gosh, what a freak.
heeseung sighed in relief once jake left, thankful that his lie cut the conversation short. it was suffocating having to interact with anyone when thoughts of you would corrupt his mind, especially with someone as oversharing as jake. he got up from his chair and made his way out of the backstage area, squeezing between cameramen and staff, reciting the directions jake gave him in his head.
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back at home, you finally finished your shower and skincare, moisturizing your body with butters to seal your routine. you threw on some pink lace panties and a soft silk robe heeseung bought you not too long ago and you entered the room you and heeseung shared, lighting a few vanilla-scented candles, casting a warm glow across the room and adding a gentle fragrance to the air. with the lights dimmed, you yawned in fatigue as you made your way to your queen-sized bed, diving into its cozy embrace. 
even with the room clean and your body refreshed from your shower, you couldn't shake the emptiness you felt without heeseung's presence. you missed the nights he would come to bed and shower your neck with kisses, how he'd hug you tight from behind until you fell asleep. your eyes fixated on his empty side of the bed, a pang of loneliness striking your chest. you moved closer to his pillows and clutched them tightly, as if they could somehow fill the void he left behind.
meanwhile, halfway across the globe, heeseung stood outside what he believed to be the place jake recommended. he frowned as he examined the blank door in front of him, how weird that it had no label, and not even a handle. but it was in fact, the only 'third silver door on the left'. with uncertainty he pushed it open, quietly creeping in and letting it close behind him.
empty dressing room? way to lie to a lie, jake.
heeseung stumbled through the crowded darkness, blindly swatting away at hangers of clothes as they grazed his face. he hugged his body with his sleeveless arms as the AC blasted painfully cold air, and to make his matters worse, there was no light switch. well, at least to his knowledge after feeling around for one. this was clearly not a dressing room, more like an ... abandoned closet.
with the help of his phone's flashlight, heeseung managed to make his way to the very back, the area thankfully warmer behind a rack of performance costumes. he could not believe he'd sunken this low; going all this way to masturbate in such an ominous room like this. but at the same time, anything would be better than walking around with the sexual urge that plagued him all day.
he resigned himself to sitting on the floor, sighing as he sank against the wall. he unlocked his phone and went to your messages, his thumb hovering over the screen as he checked to see if you replied to any of his previous texts. 
he scoffed in a bummer, no text back.
heeseung's mind started to race with possible explanations; maybe you were just asleep. or maybe you were flat out ignoring him, he couldn't help but wonder if he had gone too far with his request for nudes. but his desire for you consumed him, heeseung ached to hear your voice and feel closer to you, even if it meant connecting purely through the phone.
to tell the truth, he'd been fantasizing about having phone sex with you for as long as he could remember. he always craved the idea; how good it would feel to listen to you touch yourself while he did the same, how pretty you'd moan for him, how it wouldn't take long to make each other cum. he thought it was the least you two could do with the distance, he just never knew how to ask.
the need coursing through his body was intense, the only chance he'd have to make his fantasy a reality was now, alone in this closet. who knew how it was ever going to go, but it was worth a try. he began texting you again, in hopes of fast replies like before.
you were lying in bed on twitter, how coincidental that you were searching for a new fancam of heeseung, unaware that you had him on delivered. his flurry of new notifications put an end to your scrolling, literally making you freeze in place.
hey
are you still up baby?
please call me if you are
your heart began to pound out of your chest, your pupils dilating at the words "call me". it'd been roughly a month since you were able to, due to heeseung's hectic schedule and all the time zone differences. at least at the start of his career you two were able to text and facetime throughout the day, he even fell asleep on the phone with you every night. but now that enhypen's popularity was increasing rapidly, you and heeseung barely had any time to talk consistently.
like, ever.
after multiple sets of deep breaths and practicing how cutely you'd speak, you clicked his contact and looked away as you pressed call. you couldn't bear to look at the screen as the phone rang for what felt like eternity, your stomach cartwheeling as you waited for him to answer.
heeseung sat in the dark, his phone serving as his only source of light as he looked through his collection of you, trying to find whatever would help him get off the best. suddenly, his screen flashed and he squinted as it abruptly brightened up his face, following his loud ringtone.
shit, it was you.
with no hesitation, heeseung swiftly swiped the green button to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. he cleared his throat as the call began, with the biggest smile on his face.
"hey, baby," heeseung greeted you.
that sweet word, baby. it was like a warm hug and a loving kiss intertwined into one, it made your insides melt every time. "hello mr. celebrity," you playfully said back into the phone, curled up on his side of the bed. "what are you up to?"
heeseung laughed at your playfulness, your honeyed voice immediately sedating him. he'd missed it terribly. "nothing much, i've just been thinking about you. nothing new, right?"
he sounded so gentle and velvety, making you more shy than usual. to be fair that's how heeseung always made you feel, everything with him gave you first time nerves. "i've been thinking about you too, babe," you confessed.
"how are you feeling?" he asked you, his speech smooth. "it's late over there, isn't it? did you eat dinner yet?"
you sighed. "well i guess i'm okay, you know. just waiting for you to come home." you couldn't help your uncontrollable smile, you felt like a middle school girl on the phone with her crush. "and i had a chicken cesar salad for dinner, with a strawberry-banana smoothie."
"ahh. that's good baby, sounds yummy. we had really good catering today, i thought you would've liked it," heeseung happily shared with a smile. no matter where he was, there was always something that made him think of you, in some way shape or form. "i really wish you could've been here with me, y/n. all i am without you is stressed."
you pouted, also sad that you had to stay home. the plan was for you to come along with him, but the company didn't want to risk heeseung's personal life getting leaked to the public. you spoke back, "well, i'd imagine all the dancing you do helps relieve some of that stress? no?"
heeseung rotated his neck that was sore from performing, placing his hand on the nape of it. "well yes, but no... not enough." you could hear the distress in his voice as it rasped. "honestly, i'm feeling a bit crazy right now." 
dear God above please forgive me, you mentally implored as arousal began coiling within you. and how terrible, heeseung was simply just expressing himself. but damn did he sound good, his voice was deliciously hoarse. something about him sounded so captivatingly different, you just couldn't put your finger on it. whatever it was, you can't lie.. it had you squeezing your thighs together.
you spaced out as he kept talking, staring at the spinning ceiling fan above you. the line soon went silent thanks to your trance, causing heeseung to worry. "um, y/n... h–hello?"
"oh! im sorry," you quickly apologized, coming back to reality. you took your phone off your ear and put him on speaker mode, sitting more upright against the headboard of your bed. "im here, babe. you just... you sound really good."
heeseung smiled to himself, taking great pride in your compliment. "you like how i sound, huh?"
"mhm," you hum in agreement. "i missed your voice."
"i miss you, just.. everything about you." he sounded low and sultry, sending a chill down your spine. "i really wish i could touch you right now."
the corners of your lips curved into a smile at the thought of heeseung's perfect hands, how big they were compared to everything on your body. you missed his touch so badly. "i miss you so much more," you replied, filled with longing. "wish you could touch me too."
those words were just what heeseung wanted to hear, and he was trying so hard to not unzip his jeans and jerk off while you talked. he desperately wanted to tell you how hard you were making him, how bad he wanted to cum, how bad he wanted to listen to you fuck your fingers on the line. but he knew that needed to ease into it gradually, like a gentleman.
heeseung moved his hand underneath his sleeveless top to smooth it over his lower stomach, trying to relax. "you're in bed, right? what are you wearing?" he asked, hoping it was little to nothing.
it caught you off guard, wondering what he could possibly do with that information. "yeah, oh, uhhh... one of the robes you sent me for my birthday," you tell him, your fingers idly playing with the string of your robe.
"oh," he raised a brow, picturing your bare body in the silk. "so, nothing else? just the robe, baby?"
"well, if you're not counting underwear, then i guess.." you nonchalantly replied, looking at your nails.
"mmm, i really like that." heeseung bit his lip, thinking of all the pretty undergarments you'd wear to bed. the lace, cheeky underwear that you'd wear turned him on so much, he always insisted you kept them on while he fucked you. "they're pink, aren't they? your panties, i mean."
"mhmm, they are," you responded with a big smile, as he was surprisingly right. "wow, you know me so well."
"i do, don't i," he smirked. but his cocky smile deliberately faded as he remembered where he was, and how he didn't have much time. he had to get this whole thing over with before someone went looking for him, and found him. "i need to tell you something, baby. it's been on my mind for a while." 
"oh, um..." the suspenseful tone in his words scared you. it felt dramatic, like he was about to break up with you or something. "well go on, please." 
"well, there's really no other way to say this, so." heeseung began, his voice deepening lower than before. "i really miss having sex with you, y/n." he continued, little more confidence in his voice, "since we won't be able to see each other for a while, i was wondering if you'd be interested in trying something."
phew. why the hell was that so hard? he felt like a bulldozer had been lifted off his body.
the way heeseung spoke was rich and penetrating, his voice sending a pulsing feeling to your core, making you clench around nothing. "oh i—i miss it too," you agreed shyly, nearly spacing out again. your mind was flooding with the filthiest flashbacks of those unforgettable, sinful nights of that only the two of you knew about. "what did you want to try?" you asked him with a curious tilt of your head.
heeseung took a deep breath, hoping you'd welcome his proposal. "phone sex," he cleared his throat. "... what do you think of the idea?"
fuck he sounded so hot, goodness gracious. God help you again.
you didn't expect heeseung to ask you something like that, considering the fact that he'd never done anything like that in front of you before. yes, you guys had sex, and he clearly used his hand when he needed to. but you'd never self pleasured together before.
finally, you managed to find your voice after a long pause, your words coming out in a soft, shaky tone. "you... you want to try having it?" you asked, your fingers tracing the contour of your thigh to ease your nerves.
"i do, but what about you, baby? would you like to?" heeseung waited patiently, praying in his mind that you'd say yes. the denim of his jeans brutally outlined the shape of his cock, it was begging to be freed from his boxers.
"to be honest, im not sure how well i can do it," you vulnerably admitted. "it might not be as good as you're hoping for."
but the throbbing between your legs grew stronger as you considered his offer, your mind racing with indecision. heeseung clearly really wanted to try, and it couldn't hurt to experiment a little. you took a deep breath, the thought of pleasuring him outweighing your uncertainty. "since it's for you, we can try."
heeseung was beyond thrilled that you agreed, more than happy. but he knew you more than anyone, and he felt concern at the slight hesitation he could sense. he wanted to make sure you truly felt comfortable, it was important to him for both of you to enjoy it.
"don't feel nervous, i'll be here to guide you through it. you can trust me, okay?" he gently assured you, soft but somehow authoritative. "if at any point you don't like it just tell me, and we can stop."
you smiled at heeseung's reassurance, the nervousness immediately leaving your body at his consideration. "you're so sweet. don't worry, i want to. i trust you," you assured him. "we can start now, if that's what you wanted."
heeseung let out a sigh of relief, feeling calm after hearing your affirmation. "great," he replied, the corners of his lips curling slightly. "give me one second."
he unzipped his tight-fitting jeans, feeling a sense of freedom at finally being able to relax. he reached for his aching cock out of his Calvin Klein boxers, groaning as it sprung straight up and slapped his stomach. his precum spilled from his pink, cut tip, he gulped down a thick swallow of air as he spread the leakage across the head with his thumb. "are you comfortable?"
"mhmm," you hummed, pulling the covers over your lower body, seeking warmth and privacy even though there was no one to hide from.
"close your eyes for me baby, i want you to imagine me there from now on. just trust me, it'll feel better with them closed." heeseung wrestled the impulse to jerk his impressive length that stood proud in his lap, but he wanted to get you going first. "are they closed yet?" he asked you, closing his own.
you closed your eyes, the darkness making his voice seem even more seductive. "mhm, they're closed."
heeseung's breath hitched slightly at the sound of your compliance. "good, baby. i want you to focus on my voice, nothing else matters. okay?"
"okay," you tell him, your heart racing faster now, the intimacy of the moment heightened by your inability to see.
"touch your body for me," heeseung muttered huskily, authority in his voice. "you know where to touch first, right baby?"
"mhm, i think so." you gasped as you slipped your hands inside the silky fabric of your robe, your fingers trailing gently along the sensitive skin of your neck before moving to run along your collarbones, then downwards to gently caress your bare chest.
"where are you touching, love?" he sweetly asked.
"my tits," you responded, massaging your tender breasts and playing with your hardened nipples between your fingers.
"mmm, good girl. spread your legs for me," he lowly instructed, spitting a long glob of saliva onto his cock and smoothing it around the length as he felt it drip down, giving the shaft a firm hold with his fist. "move your hand to where you want me to touch you, baby."
your body responded to his commands like a puppet on a string, unable to resist his allure. you were on your back, slightly propped up by pillows as you opened your legs, wandering your hand down to land between your thighs. "okay, i did," you quietly replied.
"you want to touch it so bad, don't you baby?" heeseung taunted you, his teasing revealing your own longing to touch your sensitive flesh through the fabric. "wanna play with your pussy so bad for me."
"yes please," you begged him. "please let me."
"you can baby, you can touch for me." heeseung granted you permission, and he could already hear a change in your breathing, it became shaky within seconds.
you rubbed your covered pussy, pressing down right where your clit was swelling. your folds left a big puddle on the thin material, your underwear entirely soaked, absorbing all of your arousal. "heeseung," you softly moaned his name as you groped your wetness, "my panties, they're ruined."
heeseung threw his head back against the wall, the thought of your pussy being so wet that it seeped through your panties made his cock grow painfully harder, harder than it already was. it pulsed violently, throbbing as it cried to be stroked up and down. "you wanna be a good girl and touch your pussy for me?" he asked, his voice deep and saturated with his need to touch himself.
your voice cracked as you answered, "yes, want to touch so bad."
heeseung could cum off of how sweet and submissive you sounded right now alone. "go ahead and touch baby, tell me what you feel."
you slid your fingers underneath the damp fabric and massaged the surface of your folds, your stickiness glazing your fingertips. "im wet, i'm really wet."
"that's perfect, baby." his tongue darted out to wet his lips, visualizing running the head of his cock between the wet lips of your pussy. "touch your clit and play with it."
your body twitched as you began to toy at your sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing yourself like heeseung would with his perfect fingers. you took deep, trembling breaths against the mic of your phone, turning heeseung on so much on the other side.
he let out a sharp moan as he finally glided his hand up and down his wet dick, applying immense pressure to his sensitive tip. he didn't need lube, his precum and saliva were just enough. "can you hear it, baby? stroking my cock for you, just for you." he grunted, lowering his phone and bringing the mic near his hands, allowing you to hear every wet, sloppy sound of the friction.
you whined, rubbing delicate circles on your clit as you listened to the slipperiness of his cock. "shhh...it. f-fuck," your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip, in slight shame of cursing.
heeseung's fist rhythmically twisted around his cock, his chest rising and falling heavily with each lubricious stroke. his thigh muscles spasmed at the heavenly, warm sensation from his hand, his toes tingling in his shoes. it felt so fucking good to finally be able to jerk off. but still, nothing compared to how you felt. "put your fingers in your fucking pussy." he demanded it of you, more than ready to hear it.
with your imagination fixated on the thought of heeseung's cock in place of your fingers, you carefully teased your tight entrance, sticky and slick from how bad you wished he was home to fuck you. you hissed as you pushed one in, then another, deeply past your tight walls.
your soft moans let him know that your fingers were inside of you, and heeseung smiled to himself at your obedience. "i need you to talk to me, baby. does it feel good? feel good to finger your pussy for me?"
"feels s-so good," you trembled, spreading your legs further apart as you gradually slid your fingers in and out of your hole. your mouth hung open at the immense pleasure, it was blissful to finally have something penetrating you after so long—you hadn't touched yourself since he left for tour.
heeseung routinely licked his lips as he steadily stroked his cock, your whines and whimpers into the phone bringing him a different type of contentment. he wanted to hear more, he wanted to feel like he was there making you feel good. "moan for me some more, baby."
just the sound of his voice alone guiding you was stimulating, it was hypnotizing. you were completely under his spell, and in your current state, there was nothing you wouldn't do if he asked. you pumped your 2 fingers deeper, moving them in and out of your tightness with care as you let yourself get louder. "miss you, miss the way you fuck me," you whined, trying your best to sound as pornographic for him as possible. "im ... so tight," you squealed, searching and exploring for that sweet spot that he always reached.
"yeah?" heeseung jerked himself off with a more firm grip around his girth, attempting to mimic the tightness of your wet cunt. "tell me, tell me how tight you are for me."
"im so wet, and tight for you," you shakily moaned into the mic as you fingered your pussy, the squelching driving him crazy. "just for you, hee." you switched back and forth between fingering yourself and massaging your tits for more simulation, taking your fingers and spreading the wetness on your nipples, then fucking them back into your pussy.
"such a good girl. keep playing with your pussy for me baby, just like that." heeseung praised you as his adam's apple moved up and down in his throat, breathlessly talking you through your pleasure.
he took his lower lip between his teeth and sucked on it, his breathing growing increasingly heavier. his right hand weakly held his phone against his ear to hear you whilst he thrusted his hips upwards, fueling his desperate grinding into his left hand. he was still a little paranoid about someone coming in and busting him for doing something so immoral, so nasty, but he wanted to vocally please you the best he could. so, he didn't back any sound that came from his throat.
you could hear the ruffling of heeseung fucking up into his hand, it was so intense that you could've sworn you started to feel it. the vulgar profanity that left his lips made your pussy so wet and slick, you completely melted into the mattress at the sound of his filth against your ear.
you couldn't believe how quickly the phone call had changed within a matter of just 7 minutes, here you were playing your pussy on the phone while heeseung moaned like his life depended on it.
you physically couldn't stop, and neither could he on the other side. heeseung relished his salacious fantasy, his mind entirely fogged with lust for you. he never wanted it to end, because you sounded so good. it made his cock so fucking hard, how he was the only one who got to hear you this way; so cute, whiney and breathless, so desperate for him without his touch.
"oh my g—fuck me," you moaned, pumping your fingers faster into yourself. "you're gonna make me cum," you quivered as you pleaded for him, cream dripping from your hole and wetting your sheets.
heeseung let another warm pool of drool fall from his mouth onto his dick, reminiscing how moist and warm you felt in his head, his wet hand picking up the pace. he could feel it in his stomach; he was going to explode if he kept stroking himself at this speed. as torturous as it felt, he slowed down his hand's movements, choking on air as he occasionally let go of his cock to edge it and reserve the buildup.
you tortured your clit with the tips of your creamy fingers, the pleasure becoming so overwhelming that a tear rolled down your cheek. "hee, i-i'm gonna cum," you faintly whimpered, your clit starting to feel too sensitive to touch.
"cumming already, baby?" he let out a stifled moan, his primal desire for you to cum surging. "good girl, cum all over your fingers."
you'd never heard heeseung be this vocal, but you completely submerged in it, loving how careless and expressive he was being. it was a side of him you hadn't known before, and you couldn't get enough.
he mumbled profanity under his jagged breaths and begged you to cum for him, his fist fucking his hand with more force to the thought of being inside you. he could hear the speed of your fingers getting faster and faster, and all that mattered to him was that you were close to cumming—because he damn sure was.
heeseung panted, gripping himself tighter and stroking faster, so fast that his hand began to cramp. he furrowed his brows and his mouth fell wide, his nose scrunching as he felt his sweet release seconds away. "oh fuck... fuck y/n, i'm gonna cum, fuck! im—" his orgasm took over his entire body, spurts of his hot semen oozing out of his tip and dripping down his length, making a thick white mess all over his hand. he moaned in ecstasy as his cock relentlessly leaked, his abs clenching as his seed spilled onto his jeans.
it was disgusting.
you mouth salivated at the obscene sounds of heeseung reaching his peak of ecstasy, and it wasn't long before your own body succumbed to its own waves of pleasure, cumming with him at the same time. you shrieked as you uncontrollably squirted all over the bedsheets, leaving heeseung's side drenched with the liquids from your body. your legs shook violently and you could barely catch your breath, lost in the overtaking overstimulation.
heeseung was far from done, he absentmindedly pumped his cock in a slower, teasing rhythm, milking out his remaining ropes of cum to the sweet sounds of your climax. there was so much, it just kept coming and coming, and coming.
you knees so fell weak that you lost feeling in them. you gasped as you opened your eyes after seeing stars for so long, moaning with heeseung in unison as you both came down from your highs. you slowly removed your fingers out of your pussy, a string of milky wetness following as you brought them into your mouth, tasting the sinful mess you made.
"i j-just changed these sh-sheets," you stuttered as you caught your breath, still shaken from your orgasm. "i made such a mess."
heeseung also was still recovering from his intense release, his breathing heavy and rapid. he let out a long, satisfied sigh, his body relaxing and his cock falling soft as he basked in the afterglow of cumming so much. "let me see the mess you made, baby," he pleaded to see it, desperate for visual proof. "show me."
"you are so freaky," you jokingly snickered, a rasp in your voice from all of the high pitched moans that escaped your mouth. you snapped a picture of the icky mess of cum between your legs and sent it to him, closing and tying your robe back up after.
heeseung's jaw clenched as he opened the photo, his doe eyes round with awe. "woah... that's so hot." he couldn't help but run his tongue over his lips at your downward pov, the sight of the white, creamy essence on your pretty pussy making his cock twitch, despite it falling back tender. his mind raced with thoughts of you and what the two of you had just done together. "i really missed hearing you like that, you're so cute."
"oh stop," you blushed, your heart swelling with affection for him. it was reassuring to hear that he enjoyed how you sounded, you felt a bit better about your performance. "it wouldn't have been possible without you, though."
heeseung chuckled softly, a cocky grin gracing his features. hearing that from you gave him an ego boost. "it felt good, didn't it baby?" he asked, hoping you enjoyed it as much as he did. though he knew you did, there was no way you faked those noises.
"mhm, it felt really good, thanks to you." you nodded with a smile, reminiscing about it already. "i'm glad i tried something new with you."
he grabbed his softened cock that was still hot and sticky, putting it back into his boxers and zipping his jeans back up. "im glad i could help you, thank you for helping me." he mellowly replied, playing with the goopy aftermath of his own release between his fingers. "there's so much i want to do to you, baby. when i get back we'll make up for lost time, yeah?"
"yeah," you softly tell him, getting aroused all over again. you put your finger between your lips, gently nippling on it with your front teeth. a shiver ran down your spine, knowing full well how things tended to get when there was a gap of time in between seeing each other. you didn't know how much longer you could wait. you needed heeseung, you needed the real thing, your fingers could only go so far.
"okay, i have to go now. it's time for you to get some sleep anyways," heeseung said gently as he stood up from the closet floor, shivering from the pins and needles sensation in his legs from his seated climax. "i'll give you a call tomorrow. alright?"
you couldn't help but feel sad that he had to go, you wished he could stay on the phone forever. "okay," you doubtfully sighed, "i hope you know that i don't believe you."
heeseung chuckled into the phone, shaking his head at your insistence. "why? i will call you, you'll see."
you weren't completely reassured, your doubts still lingering. "you promise?"
heeseung's voice softened, his tone earnest. "i promise, baby."
"pinky promise?" you ask him, your voice getting sweeter.
"pinky, pinky, promise." he echoed into the speaker, making you giggle. "double pinky promise. now do you believe me?"
"you pinky promised, so i'll be waiting on it," you smiled, satisfied with his assurance. "goodnight, heeseung."
heeseung's heart wrenched at your words of goodbye. he missed you already, and he too didn't want to go, but he knew had to get back to where he was supposed to be. "goodnight baby, i love you."
"aww. i love you too bubbabear," you say back. "so much."
"but not more than i love you," heeseung's voice turned childish, "never ever."
you got out of bed, still damp between your legs, and the sheets beneath you soaking with your evidence of pleasure. "okay, you can hang up now."
"no, you hang up."
"no you hang up," you spat back.
"no, im not hanging up," heeseung argued with playful defiance, "so you can go ahead, hang up."
"whatever," you rolled your eyes, "just hang up."
"no, you."
"no, you."
heeseung laughed, he knew you'd go back and forth forever if you had the chance. "fine, i'll hang up. but only because i love you."
"oh but that sounds... manipulative?" you replied with sarcasm, "i love you too, by the way."
"sweet dreams," he wished you, before blowing a kiss into the mic. "give me a kiss back, baby," he cutely asked, waiting for you to reciprocate it. "kiss me through the phone."
"gosh, you are so corny," you complained, knowing you'll do it anyway. "wait! let's do it at the same time," you suggest.
"even better," heeseung agreed, full of excitement. "on three."
you counted to three together, both of you bringing your lips to the phone and kissing it, making a long mwah sound.
"aww, i love you," you gush at him one last time.
"you're so cute. i love you more," heeseung sweetly replied, before cutting the line.
𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
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♡ྀི hello my beautiful followers, its literally been a year since my last post, i'm terrified😅i feel like i lost my writer's spark but if this does well, i have plenty of filth in my drafts waiting to be posted!😟
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kookooluvr · 1 month ago
Text
Teach Me How To Love - Part 3
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pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers
genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.
summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.
rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
word count: 6.7k
warnings: we get to know the besties a bit, jihyo and tae being our cutesie side characters <3 oc and jk both spill the beans to their friends,mentions of the infamous ex (booo, throwing tomatoes), oc buys and wears lingerie for jk, she sends him a photo in said lingerie, explicit sexual content; making out, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, missionary, squirting, soft dom jk, multiple orgasms, jk learns something new about oc, jk's in his feelings, my poor baby, jk's also a teeny tiny bit of a stalker...but in a sweet way if that makes any sense :)
author's note: part 3 took longer than i would've liked bc my procrastination was kicking my ass. anyway, pls enjoy !!! things will start being a bit more eventful from part 4 onwards so bear with me 🤪🫶🏼 as usual, make sure to like, reblog and pleeeaaase share all your thoughts and feelings about these kiddos <3
taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @mimi1097 @livinluvl @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @puppybunnyjkay @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth
find tmhtl masterlist here
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It's been a week since Jungkook came over. You spoke here and there in passing but you haven't had a chance to actually hang out again after that night because you're both just too busy prepping for final exams before the long awaited summer break. This time of year is always a bit crazy for both the students and the educators, which leaves you with almost no time to mess around with cute economics professors.
You've been a bit stressed out all week, so you really weren't planning on spending your Saturday in a busy mall, looking through racks of lingerie, and yet that's exactly what you're doing. Why? Because Jihyo texted you saying she needed your help in buying something sexy to wear on an upcoming date she has with some guy she met at work. His name's Mark and from what she's told you about him, he sounds...promising.
Jihyo, unlike you, is looking for a boyfriend. Boy, is she looking. She's gone on about seven dates with five different men in the past couple of months and she is yet to find her Mr. Right. From what she's told you, she's looking for someone educated, tall, handsome, funny, and someone who can "match her freak". The closest she got to that was some guy she met at a club two months ago, who was lucky enough to get three whole dates before he eventually gave her the ick by referring to his mother as 'mommy'. For her own sanity, you hope Mark won't make that same mistake.
However, Jihyo's mind isn't on Mark right now. Oh no, she's much more focused on the man you're seeing.
"___, come on. We've been best friends since the fifth grade. Are you really going to look me in my eye and tell me you're not seeing anyone? And don't lie to me."
You roll your eyes, scanning the rack of pink satin and red lace, feeling the different fabrics between your fingers. One minute, you were asking her about Mark and how they met, and the next thing you know, you're being interrogated in the middle of a lingerie store.
"I'm not looking you in your eye. I'm looking at lingerie. Ooh, this is pretty."
Jihyo loves you, really, she does. You've known each other for most of your lives. That means she supports you in everything you do. That also means she can see right through your bullshit when no one else can. She's been suspicious of you and your apparent mystery man for a while now, and she won't stop asking you about him until she gets answers.
"I'm serious. I know you're seeing someone. You're not slick, babe. I know you inside and out, and I have really good intuition...and I might have seen a text I shouldn't have when your phone was on the table at the restaurant during lunch."
Dammit.
"I don't know what you're talking about." You feign ignorance, refusing to spill the beans even after practically getting caught. You and Jungkook both swore to keep it between the two of you. It's one of the rules. Who knows what will happen if you just start breaking rules all willy-nilly. Sure, it's not that big of a deal if you tell one friend, especially your best friend, but that's how it starts. You're breaking this rule, and then another and another until you're Robin Thicke and the lines are blurred.
"Cut the shit," Jihyo says dryly, crossing her arms over her chest, clearly unwilling to drop the subject. "Who is this mysterious 'prof jeon' and why was he asking you when you're free to see him?"
You let out a defeated sigh, looking over at her. You know that look on her face. She's just going to keep asking if you don't tell her and it's pointless lying about it. She can be a pain in your ass at times but she's definitely not stupid. And besides, she's your best friend. You'd be a bad best friend for not telling her that you're basically getting the best sex of your life, right?
Screw it.
"Okay, I'm not even supposed to tell anyone about it and it's really not a big deal but...I'm kinda sleeping with one of the other professors at work." You quickly press your lips together as soon as the words leave your mouth, looking back at the lingerie to avoid her eyes and all the questions you know you're about to be bombarded with in a second.
"What?!"
"Can you keep your voice down?" you whisper-yell, noticing a few people turning their heads to see what the sudden outburst was about.
"Sorry," she mutters with a snort, clearly not expecting that news. "Who is this professor? What's his name? Jeon who? Why didn't I know about this sooner? Since when have you-"
You cut her off before she can get the rest of her questions out.
"His name is Jungkook, he teaches economics, and before you ask, no, he's not my boyfriend or anything like that. I'm still not ready for that. We met a few months after I transferred to work at the university and we were just work-friends for the most part, but then we hooked up one night last year and it wasn't really supposed to happen again because we were a bit drunk but it was so good, and then it happened two more times and then...well, then we just agreed to keep having casual sex. That's it."
Jihyo is quiet for a moment, processing the information that was just thrown at her. How have you been sleeping with this man for a year and she had no idea? She's actually quite impressed that you could keep it a secret for that long.
"Wow."
"That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" you chuckle, turning around to look at her with a light blue lacey set in your hands.
"I just...I'm happy for you. I'm glad you're putting yourself out there again after Sunghoon. I really thought you were going to swear off men for the rest of your life after him."
And there it is. The reminder of the man you spent most of your teenage and early adulthood loving, the man who you thought you would grow old with, the bane of your existence. If it's not your friends or your mother reminding you of him, it's your own brain. You don't blame her for bringing him up, though. He is the main reason why you're so opposed to actually committing yourself to someone again.
"Yeah, well...it's not like Jungkook and I are dating or anything. It's just sex. No big deal," you mutter, not wanting to go down that road right now.
Jihyo knows your love life (or lack thereof) is a bit of a sensitive subject for you. She was there for you when Sunghoon broke your heart. She let you stay over at her apartment when you were too sad to be alone. She sat with you as you cried on her bathroom floor, so this is a big deal to her. This means that you don't spend your nights crying over that human shit stain anymore, and she doesn't blame you for keeping it private. All she really wants is for you to be happy.
"Still. It's progress, babe."
"Yeah, I guess it is."
"So, uhh... how is he?" She grins, gesturing to her genital area, wanting all the long, girthy, veiny details. She can't help but be a little nosey. Besides, what's the point of having a best friend of almost two decades if you can't ask her about the juicy details of her sex life.
"I'm not telling you that, you pervert," you laugh, holding the lacey lingerie out for her to take. She takes it without even looking at it, her focus solely on you and your professor friend.
"You have to tell me. Okay fine, just give me a number from one to ten then... Looks?"
You sigh but decide to indulge her anyway. "Ten."
"You lucky bitch," she scoffs, looking very impressed. "Skills in the bedroom?"
"Nine point five."
"And you're exclusively hooking up, right?"
You nod.
"Okay, ___, please explain to me why we're in a lingerie store and you're not buying something to make this man drool over you," Jihyo deadpans, looking at you like you're insane.
"Don't be ridiculous, we're not here for me. We're here for you and your date."
"And we're not leaving until we both get something." She starts looking through the racks with more determination. "You said Professor Sexyboots is a ten. You have to wear something sexy for him. At least for my sake."
"Professor Sexyboots? I'm sure he'd love that," you scoff, rolling your eyes at her ridiculous nickname for him.
Jihyo is about to respond when she looks up at something and freezes, her eyes widening, causing you to turn your head to follow her line of sight, your eyebrows raising. On one of the mannequins sits a stunning deep-red bra and matching thong, looking like something straight off a Victoria's Secret runway. It's gorgeous, with intricate lace detailing, and it's completely out of your comfort zone.
"No way, I can't."
"What are you talking about?! You'd look so hot. C'mon, it would be so fun. You could send him a little sneak peek and invite him over and he can take it off with his teeth," she snickers, having way too much fun with this whole thing.
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You're not sure how exactly you let Jihyo convince you to buy the skimpy lingerie, but you did, which is why you're sitting in a rather suggestive pose in front of your floor-length mirror in your bedroom. It's silly to feel nervous about sending him a naughty photo. He's seen you naked more times in this past year than you can count, and yet this makes you nervous.
You take the photo and press send before quickly tossing your phone on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.
Jungkook is in the middle of watching some random show on Natural Geographic when he gets your text. He unlocks his phone and all the air gets knocked out of his lungs when his eyes land on the photo of you wrapped in the delicate dark red lace, muttering a breathless, "Sweet baby Jesus".
His fingers shake as he types out a reply, his heart hammering in his chest.
prof jeon [9:46pm]: i've never really been a very religious man prof jeon [9:46pm]: but damn, god is good 😳
You [9:47pm]: LMAO You [9:47pm]: come over
prof jeon [9:48pm]: aye-aye captain 🫡
He rushes to his room to get a hoodie, quickly putting it on while getting a confused look from a half-asleep Bam. He walks over to give the sleepy dog a quick kiss on his forehead and some scratches before getting his car keys, his body working faster than his brain. “Bam, daddy’s gotta go take care of aunty ___, okay? I’ll be back later.” And with that, he’s out the door.
He makes his way downstairs to the parking lot and gets in his car, fumbling with the car keys in a rush to get to your apartment. He knows he probably looks like a teenage virgin right now, but he doesn't care. You always manage to make his midsection tingle and his brain feel all scattered. When he finally manages to get the car started, it takes everything in him to stay within the speed limit as he drives over to you.
You're about to text him to ask how far he is from your apartment, when there's a knock at the front door. You wrap a robe around your body and go to answer the door, seeing a breathless Jungkook leaning his arm up against the wall in the hallway.
"Good evening, Professor," he grins, straightening up to walk inside, eyeing you from head to toe as you close the door behind him. Before you can get a chance to respond, his lips are on yours, his hands cradling your jaw as he kisses you, completely taking you by surprise.
You pull away to look up at him with wide eyes, letting out a little chuckle. "So just straight to the point? No small talk, nothing?"
"Is that what you want?" he asks, looking down at your robe-clad body. "Small talk? Want me to ask you how your day was before I spread your legs?"
"Not really, no."
"Yeah, I didn't think so," he mutters before his lips are back on yours. He picks you up by the back of your thighs in one swift motion, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom, eager to get that damn robe off.
He gets to the bedroom and gently lays you down on your back before hurriedly removing his glasses, pulling his hoodie over his head, his t-shirt following quickly behind. He leans down to hover over you, his lips kissing from your neck up to your lips, sensually licking into your mouth to taste more of you while his fingers trail up your thigh under the robe.
He pulls back to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his fingers slowly opening your robe. "Can I take this off?"
You nod and your robe is off within seconds, leaving you in nothing but the skimpy lingerie. His throat goes completely dry. "Fuck. You're trying to give me an asthma attack."
"You don't have asthma," you laugh, rolling your eyes.
"The point is that you're fucking hot, ___."
You scoff and pull him back down to crash your lips onto his, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. Your hands lightly travel up his biceps and shoulders, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. You slide your fingers through his hair and give it a little tug, pulling a soft moan from his lips. He loves when you play with his hair, and he especially loves when you tug on it, whether it's while he's kissing you or eating you out.
You pull away slightly to press a few light pecks to his lips, his stomach erupting with butterflies. "You're so good at that," he mutters, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
"At what, kissing?"
"Mm," he hums with a lazy little grin on his face. "Might need you to demonstrate again, just to make sure."
You laugh, placing another kiss to his lips, lingering there for a bit before pulling away.
"Mm, one more," he whispers before his mouth is back on yours, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss grows more heated.
He reluctantly breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses on your skin.
He nips at your pulse point, his teeth leaving a little red spot on your flesh.
"Jungkook, I'm going to kill you if there's a mark," you mutter, but the huff of laughter he lets out tells you he doesn't care.
"You'll be fine," he chuckles, his voice hoarse with desire, his tongue tracing the mark he left behind. He leans on one hand while the other slowly trails up the side of your ribs, making its way to the back of your bra.
"This is so pretty," he whispers, giving your earlobe a little tug with his teeth. "Can I take it off yet?"
"Mhm," you nod, slightly arching your back off the bed to let him unclasp the bra. He slowly slides the fabric off your body and tosses it aside, kissing his way down to your breasts. He licks and sucks on each of your nipples before trailing slow, soft kisses down your stomach.
"Lift your hips for me, baby." You do as he says, his fingers hooking into the sides of the tiny lace thong, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs.
You spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening folds. The sight alone makes his sweatpants feel tighter. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs further apart. He kisses his way up your leg from your calf to your inner thigh, holding your ankle over his broad shoulder.
His lips inch even closer to your pussy, just a few centimeters from where you need him most. "Jungkook," you whine, your arousal growing by the second.
He chuckles teasingly, stopping at your inner thigh. "You're so whiny."
"Don't tease, Kook."
He grins, hovering his mouth over your pussy, his breath fanning over your folds. "Love seeing you all worked up for me," he murmurs, slowly licking his lips before pressing a feather-like kiss to your mound.
"Just shut up and eat me out."
"Yes, ma'am."
He starts slow with wet little kisses and licks to your clit, slowly building up a steady pace. He loves eating you out. He could go for hours if you let him, like a starved man getting a taste of his favourite food. Jungkook's always been more of a giver than a taker, your pleasure bringing him pleasure.
He's incredibly skilled with his tongue, knowing exactly what to do to have your legs trembling. He swirls and flicks his tongue, sucking and lapping at your clit to make your eyes roll back in your head.
"Fuck, Jungkook...feels so good," you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut.
He smiles against your pussy, feeling proud of every little sigh and moan he pulls from your lips. "You taste so good," he mutters before diving back in, licking a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them open.
"Just like that...oh my god, don't stop..."
He looks up at you with a dazed look in his eyes, his tongue lapping at you with skilled precision that makes your toes curl, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.
"F-fuck, 'm gonna cum," you gasp, grabbing onto his hair to hold him in place, your eyes squeezing shut, your head spinning as the pleasure reaches a peak.
A few more sucks and flicks of his tongue and you're cumming, his hands holding you in place as he laps at your pussy, helping you ride out your high. He feels your thighs quivering, looking quite proud of himself. "You taste so fucking good," he murmurs, pressing a few soft kisses to your clit.
"Holy shit." You're breathless, your pussy pulsating, your heart racing.
He crawls up to hover over you, giving your lips a quick peck, his lips and chin glistening. "Still with me?"
"Mhmm," you grin, slowly opening your eyes to look up at him.
He smiles down at you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your disheveled hair, your pretty eyes. He gently brushes some of your hair out of your face, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. "You're beautiful, ___," he whispers, his voice laced with tenderness.
"Don't say that."
He furrows his brows in confusion, puzzled by your reaction. "Why not? It's the truth."
"Tell me I'm sexy...not beautiful."
He chuckles, slowly shaking his head, his expression filled with amusement and affection. "You're gorgeous," he whispers, lightly kissing your cheek, his lips trailing over to your ear. "And incredibly sexy."
"You gonna fuck me now?" You tease, your lips curling into a soft smile.
He almost laughs at your bluntness, the way you just get straight to the point, never wasting any time if you want something. Your assertiveness has always been a turn-on for him, not just in the bedroom, but in general.
"That's the plan, yeah."
"Let's get this show on the road then."
He gets up off you and removes his sweatpants and boxers, letting it lay somewhere on your bedroom floor. He's already hard, his cock standing tall, the tip already leaking a bit. He stands at the end of your bed, his hand wrapped around the base, his eyes glued between your legs, slowly trailing up to your face.
He crawls back on top of you, sliding his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and rubbing it over the head of his cock. "Ready, baby?"
You give him a nod and he slowly pushes into you, his hips gently moving forward. "Shit, you feel good," he groans, his voice coming out low and hoarse.
You sharply inhale through your nose, feeling that familiar stretch, your walls molding to the shape of him like it was made for him.
He thrusts slowly, bracing his forearms on either side of your head, his forehead resting against yours. His thrusts get deeper until he bottoms out, his breathing growing heavier, his moans going straight to your core. He buries his face in your neck, feeling your hands gripping the muscles in his back as he thrusts harder.
Your moans grow louder as he thrusts into you, your walls fluttering around him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Fuck, that feels so good."
"Yeah? You like that, baby?" he grins, pressing wet kisses to your neck and chest.
You've never had a man make you feel the way Jungkook does. He knows exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to have you like putty in his hands. Your skin heats up, your heart pounding faster as he picks up the pace, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your back arch off the bed.
"Mmm, f-fuck...harder...h-harder, baby," you moan, feeling him lift one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside you, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper.
"Like that?" He grunts, sitting back on his knees, his thrusts hitting harder, his pace getting faster.
"Oh my god, right there...feels s-so good, Kook."
"Wanna cum again?"
You can barely form a coherent sentence anymore. Your moans mixed with the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills your bedroom, his thrusts making your pussy squelch.
"Use your words, baby."
"Wanna...wanna cum," you whine, feeling him hold your leg next to his head and press wet kisses to your ankle and calf, the pressure and pace of his thrusts feeling just right.
"Hold it." His voice is rough and demanding, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he usually uses with you outside of the bedroom, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.
He ignores your whines and pleas for him to let you cum, thrusting as deep as he can go, his free hand reaching down to push his thumb into your mouth. Your body works on autopilot, sucking on his thumb. You swirl your tongue around it like you would do to his cock, causing his hips to stutter before he regains his composure.
"Such a good girl for me. Gonna make you cum so hard, baby."
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth to rub firm circles over your clit, the pressure paired with his thrusts making your head spin. The pressure starts to build in your lower stomach, and it feels different, better than it usually does, your pussy clenching down harder around his cock.
"Feels...f-feels like I'm gonna...p-pee..."
He lets out a faint chuckle, his hips moving with determination. "You're not gonna pee, baby," he mutters, his tone sounding almost teasing.
"H-how do you know?"
"Trust me, baby, I know. You're not gonna pee." He can tell you're close, your body practically begging for release as he rubs your clit faster. He looks down to where your bodies connect, seeing how swollen and puffy your pussy looks, the sight making his cock twitch. "It's gonna feel so good, baby, I promise."
"Gonna...gonna cum-"
"I know, baby. Let go for me...let it all out."
You cum with a loud cry, your body convulsing beneath him, your vision going blank as the pleasure hits you. It feels relentless, like nothing you've ever felt before, and he's made you cum many times before.
"Fuck, that's my girl." His thrusts slow down but they don't stop, keeping his pace steady to help you through it. "That's it, baby...ride it out..."
Your body trembles as you come down from your high, barely able to register him pulling out. Your eyes are half open as you watch him stroke himself above you, his face contorting in pleasure, his abdomen tensing. He finishes with a guttural moan of your name, painting your stomach and breasts with warm strings of cum.
"Fuck. I think I just saw Jesus," he breathes out, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.
"Yeah? What did he tell you?" You chuckle breathlessly, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.
"He said you squirted."
Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, looking down to find his lower stomach and pelvis drenched.
"Oh my god," you groan, your words muffled by your hands as you cover your face.
"Hey, don't be embarrassed. It was probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmurs with a faint chuckle, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him, his face looking rather smug.
"You look very pleased with yourself."
"Can you blame me? I made you feel so good, you practically exploded all over me," he grins, looking down at the mess between your legs. "Ohh, she's so swollen now. She took a bit of a beating, huh?"
You let out bashful scoff, your cheeks heating up at his choice of words.
He quickly gets up to go and clean himself off in the bathroom, coming back to slip his boxers back on. He watches you slowly get up off the messy bed, your knees feeling weak as you clumsily walk off to the bathroom, needing a hot shower after that intense session. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he watches you stumble.
"Legs a little wobbly there?" he teases, unable to stop the amused smile from spreading across his face.
"Shut up," you mutter as you make your way to the bathroom, earning a little laugh from him.
While you're in the shower, he takes it upon himself to remove the dirty covers and sheets from your bed, looking for your lavender room-spray on your vanity. He knows you always spray it around the room after sex, and he knows you keep it on your vanity, but for some reason he can't find it there. What he does find, however, is a framed photo he's never seen before. You're in it, and it looks like it was taken on the day of your undergrad graduation ceremony. You're standing next to a younger-looking girl, whose face is quite similar to yours. She is just slightly taller with shorter hair. Jungkook doesn't know much, or rather anything, about your family, but he assumes the girl in the photo is your sister.
He picks up the frame and goes to sit down on the bed, inspecting it closely. He feels a bit guilty, like he's been caught red-handed for snooping when you come out the bathroom wrapped in your robe, your eyes landing on the frame in his hands.
"What're you doing?"
"Sorry," he murmurs, his eyes growing wide, feeling like a child that's been caught stealing. "I just...I was looking for your room spray...or mist, whatever it is, and... I, uhm, I don't know, I guess this just caught my eye. I've been here many times but I've never really looked around, y'know?"
You nod slowly, going to sit next to him at the edge of the bed.
"Is this...your sister?"
You look up at him, seeing the surprise on his face.
You and Jungkook have sex. You work at the same university. You're "work-friends" and that surprise on his face is a reminder of how little he truly knows about you, how little of yourself you actually share with him. He knows you have a cat, but he doesn't know you have a sister. He knows the way you take your coffee, but he doesn't know anything about your childhood. It's a stark contrast to how much you know about him. You know his favourite foods because he's very specific about where he gets his takeout from. You know his favourite brand of beer because he always has it stocked up in his fridge. You know all about his family dynamics because he speaks about them all the time, that his brother just had a baby, that her name is Mijoo. You know all of his hobbies and interests because you're quite observant and he's very open, never feeling the need to keep anything to himself. You're similar in some aspects of your personalities, and yet very different.
"Yeah, that's my sister, Yuna," you murmur softly, looking down at the photo with a tight-lipped smile.
He absorbs this new information, a mix of feelings swirling inside him. Part of him feels slightly hurt. Four years of knowing each other and a year of hooking up, and he's only just found out you have a sister. He's an open book, always sharing all these intimate details about himself with you, yet you keep so many parts of yourself hidden from him. He wonders if it's just in your nature or if you deliberately keep him at arm's length, preventing him from getting too close.
At the same time, a small spark of hope lights up within him. You're not completely shutting him down so that's good. Maybe this is a sign that you're actually opening up to him for once. It might seem minor, but he takes it as a huge step forward with you.
He has a million questions he wants to ask, but settles for, "What's she like?"
There's a beat of silence before you speak. "She's, uhm...she's three years younger than me, and she's probably the most extroverted person you'll ever meet, so we're...very different," you scoff, smiling fondly at the thought of your baby sister.
He listens intently as you talk about your sister. He wants nothing more than for you to let your guard down with him, and this is a start. It's small, but it's something.
"That must make for an interesting sibling dynamic, hm?"
"We actually get along great in spite of that. We grew up super close, so..." You speak softly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with showing even just a hint of vulnerability in front of him. "So, yeah. Now you know that about me."
"Yeah," he murmurs softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Now I know."
You gently take the frame from his hands and walk over to your vanity, putting it back in its place. You pick up the lavender room spray and turn to him with a faint smile. "This what you were looking for?"
"There's the damn thing," he scoffs, the familiar scent filling his nose as you give the room a spritz. "Is that to get rid of the smell of me?"
You chuckle, but you don't deny it.
The room falls silent again, and he takes it as his cue to get out of your hair, seeing as it's already midnight and he doesn't want to push his luck.
"I should, uh...I should go. It's late and I don't wanna keep you out of your beauty sleep," he jokes, slowly getting up to put his clothes back on.
"I'll walk you out." He wishes, just once, that you would ask him to stay, but he knows you won't. He walks behind you, stopping at the front door. He so badly wants to reach out and take your face in his hands, to kiss your lips and ask you to let him spend the night with you, but when you open the door for him, he simply puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and walks out into the hallway.
"Thanks for tonight," he mumbles, looking down at you with a soft look in his eyes. "It was fun."
"Yeah, it was," you smile, tilting your head to lean against the half-open door.
He just looks at you, not making a move to leave. He has so much he wants to say right now, but he swallows it down, just like he always does, not wanting to overstep.
"Well...goodnight."
"Night, Jungkook."
He takes a small step back, reluctantly turning to leave. "Goodnight, ___," he mumbles, looking back at you with a soft smile.
You chuckle, sensing his reluctance to leave. "Goodnight, Jungkook."
He turns and starts walking away, his feet feeling heavier with each step. Just as he's about to make a U-turn and walk back to you, he hears the soft click of your door shutting, the lock echoing in the empty hallway.
He sighs and walks over to the elevators, going down to his car. He mentally kicks himself for feeling so disappointed. He's always known that you keep yourself guarded, and he thought he could handle it, could play by your rules, could be content with a primarily physical relationship. He could before. But right now, sitting in his car in the silent parking lot, he's reminded of how weak he really is.
He leans his forehead forward against the steering wheel, the weight of his feelings sitting heavy in his chest, muttering a soft, "Fuck."
With a heavy sigh, he starts the car and drives home, his brain taunting him with the fact that romance isn't a possibility for you and him.
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On Monday, Jungkook is back in work mode. He tries to squeeze in as many revision lectures as he can the closer it gets to final exams. It's around 3pm when he finally gets a breather, so he goes to his usual spot for lunch.
He sits in the empty lounge, like he does almost every day. Why this specific lounge? Because if he looks out the window, he has a perfect view of you sitting below, eating your lunch on your usual bench. Sometimes you're alone, sometimes you're with another lecturer, and on rare days you just have lunch in your office.
"There you are." He hears Taehyung's voice as he walks into the lounge, sitting down across from him with a huff. "You weren't answering your phone."
Jungkook doesn't respond, his eyes not wavering. He looks out the window with a dopey look on his face, watching you eat your gimbap. Taehyung follows his line of sight, catching on rather quickly.
"So... you taking an online course on how to be a stalker, or...?"
"What are you talking about?" He scoffs, looking over at Taehyung before his eyes inevitably drift back down to you.
"You're staring like a creep," Taehyung laughs, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Is she that professor I saw you talking to the other day?"
"Mm." Jungkook knows how nosey his best friend can be, and he knows exactly what's going on in that head of his.
Taehyung gives him a knowing smile. He doesn't even have to say much, already knowing it's only a matter of time before Jungkook spills.
"You have a thing for her, huh?"
Jungkook looks at him with wide eyes, feeling exposed without even confessing anything. "What? I didn't even say anythi-"
"Don't bother," Taehyung chuckles, "You're not very subtle, man. Your eyes give you away."
Jungkook feels his cheeks burn, knowing he's been caught. He hates how transparent he is, that his feelings are written all over his face. "Fine. But it's not a big deal."
Taehyung gives him a look that says, 'You sure about that?'
Jungkook looks at his friend, then down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs. There's a long silence before the word-vomit eventually spills out of him.
"We've been having sex for a year and it was just casual at first, well...it still is casual, and we set a few rules so that there's still boundaries between us, but then I started developing feelings and she's just so guarded, like, she won't open up to me and I know that if she finds out I have feelings for her, she'll pull away and it'll ruin everything," he rambles, the words tumbling out like he's been dying to tell someone. He knows it was supposed to stay between the two of you, but he trusts Taehyung implicitly and he knows his friend would never judge him or the situation.
Taehyung looks at him with raised eyebrows, listening to him ramble on about the whole situation, trying to wrap his head around it. He knows how much of a softie Jungkook is and he never thought he would ever hear him say he has a friend with benefits.
"Damn, dude...you look like you needed to get that off your chest."
"I guess I did, yeah," Jungkook murmurs with a little scoff.
"Okay, so, she explicitly told you she's not interested in you romantically?"
"Well, no, she didn't say it directly, but she doesn't have to," Jungkook sighs. "She's made it clear more than once that she's not looking for anything serious from me."
"Damn," Taehyung murmurs, his face full of sympathy. "Has she said why?"
Jungkook looks back out the window, looking down at you with a melancholy expression on his face. "I know it's something to do with her ex, but she won't tell me the full story, so I don't really know what happened. I know she's been hurt before and she's wary of it happening again. I know she's not ready for anything serious, and I respect that. It's just..."
"You thought it would be enough for you?" Taehyung asks softly, carefully.
"Yeah."
"But it's not?"
"Would it make me an awful, selfish person if I said it's not?"
"No," Taehyung says firmly, a soft smile forming on his face. "It would make you a human being with a soft heart and strong feelings."
Jungkook scoffs, feeling guilty for simply thinking of being with you in a romantic sense. He knows you've been through some hard things in the past, and all he wants is a chance to prove himself to you.
"Do you want to tell her how you feel about her?"
"I don't know," Jungkook mutters, a slight pout forming on his lips. "I keep going back and forth about it in my head. Part of me wants to tell her and lay all my cards out on the table for her...another part of me is scared of pushing her away even further."
Taehyung goes silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "Is the sex good?"
Jungkook narrows his eyes at his friend. "You have the worst timing."
Taehyung chuckles, shrugging like he just couldn't help but ask.
Jungkook rolls his eyes but gives in, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's...it's really good. Probably the best sex I've ever had, if I'm being real."
"Wow," Taehyung scoffs, his eyes wide. "I'd say you should wife her but...y'know..."
Jungkook gives him a dirty look, once again getting a slap from reality, Taehyung subtly wincing at his friend's misfortune.
"Look, I want to say screw her and it's her loss because you're a fuckin’ catch...but I mean, I get that she's just being cautious because of whatever happened with her ex."
Jungkook sighs, nodding slowly.
"Yeah. I just wish I could prove to her that I would never hurt her, that I would respect her and treat her right." Jungkook mentally curses your ex for screwing things up for him. He just wants a fair shot with you. "She's such a beautiful woman and she doesn't even see it."
Taehyung nods, looking out at you through the window. "Yeah, she's very attractive."
"No, I mean, she's stunning, but...the way she speaks, the way she acts, the person she is...she's just so beautiful. I want her for so much more than her physical being," Jungkook murmurs softly, his heart yearning to show you just how lovely he thinks you are.
"Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for her is be her friend if that's all she needs for the time being and slowly try to bring down her walls little by little. And if that doesn't work, then I think you should keep your options open. I know this sucks, dude, but you have to think of yourself too. You can't try to mend her while breaking yourself."
Taehyung is a wise man, and Jungkook trusts his judgement. He teaches literature, for crying out loud. He reads Shakespeare for a living. He should be well versed in these things.
"Yeah," Jungkook nods, taking in Taehyung's advice. "I guess you're right, Tae. Thanks for listening to all my crap."
"Hey, you're my best friend. No sweat." He goes quiet before casually asking, "So, do you think she has a friend for m-"
"Tae-"
"Wrong time, my bad."
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< Part 2 || Part 4 >
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608 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 3 months ago
Note
addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!
i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂
i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.
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It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.
The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.
But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.
You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.
"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.
“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.
“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.
God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.
His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.
But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.
“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.
“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”
You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.
It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.
“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.
“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.
All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?
He’s a goddamn masterpiece.
“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.
You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.
“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”
You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.
The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 
“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.
You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.
“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.
“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.
“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.
Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 
“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.
“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”
“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”
“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”
He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”
“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”
He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.
He’s gonna get you good.
Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”
You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.
Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.
“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.
More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 
He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.
Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.
“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.
“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”
He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.
Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”
You’re past patience.
You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”
He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.
He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.
“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.
“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.
You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while. 
His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.
“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.
His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.
He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.
“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”
You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 
He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”
His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.
You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 
“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”
His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”
You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.
He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 
"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”
You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”
You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”
"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”
You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. 
As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.
His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”
You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.
You don’t need to be told twice.
You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.
“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 
You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.
“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”
Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.
You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.
“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.
You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.
You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.
His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.
“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.
You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.
“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."
His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”
His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.
Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.
You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.
“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”
He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”
His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.
“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”
His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.
And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.
The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 
“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”
You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."
He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.
"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.
You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.
You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.
His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.
“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”
Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 
He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 
He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”
You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.
The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.
“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”
You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 
His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.
“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”
And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.
He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”
You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release
His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.
His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.
You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.
"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.
You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 
“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”
You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.
“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”
You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.
“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”
He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.
“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”
His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.
“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”
He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”
He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 
“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”
He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”
“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”
You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”
He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“You have no idea what you mean to me.”
He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.
His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.
You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 
“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”
“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.
You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”
He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.
Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”
The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”
He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”
He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.
But you peck him, simple and sweet.
“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”
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The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.
As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.
You choke on your cereal like an idiot.
“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.
Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.
She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”
You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”
You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”
Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”
“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”
You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”
She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”
“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”
“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.
For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.
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alchemistc · 2 months ago
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He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.
I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.
---
If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.
The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.
He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.
The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.
---
He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.
"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.
Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.
They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.
Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.
"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."
Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.
Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.
"What are you doing here?"
Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.
"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."
That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.
He used to find it charming.
(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)
"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"
Oh, that's fucking rich.
Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."
Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.
"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."
"How do you know?"
Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.
"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"
Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.
Eddie's got his phone out.
None of this is ideal.
When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"
This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.
"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"
Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.
"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"
Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.
"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."
Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.
"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."
"Buck came back," Tommy argues.
Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."
"You don't know me as well as you think you do."
Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?
"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."
"Is there a point to this?"
Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.
"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."
Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.
"Chris is mad at you, by the way."
It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"
"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."
"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."
"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."
And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."
No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.
Eddie looks victorious anyway.
"And for six months you thought it was worth it."
"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."
Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."
Tommy does everything he can not to wince.
"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.
"And what if it's not what I want?"
Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."
Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment
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Chapter 28: How in the-
The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…
Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.
You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.
The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.
Today was a first. In a lot of ways.
The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.
You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.
Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.
Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.
John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.
And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.
“Jesus, what happened?”
“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.
“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.
“Have you been checked?”
“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.
“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.
“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.
“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.
“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.
They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.
So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.
“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.
Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.
“Fine, sweetheart.”
“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.
He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”
“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”
“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.
“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.
“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”
“And a bath?” You added.
“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.
After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.
Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…
Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”
“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.
“Stay. Please.” He requested.
“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.
“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.
“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.
You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.
Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.
“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.
“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.
Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 
The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 
Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.
The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.
“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.
“For bathing you?”
“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.
“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.
“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.
“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”
“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”
“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.
“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.
“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.
Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”
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crescenthistory · 1 month ago
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okay idea…c1 with regulus and a reader who is either very clumsy or very sick and he can’t help but dote over her and take care of her <33
terribly sorry if you are not a moonwater girlie, but this request has been hijacked into a poly!moonwater fic 🙏 i love them, your honour
Prompt: C.1 "I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain"
Words: 1.9k
Warnings/tags: fem!reader, references to injuries, light sickness/illness, regulus being a Worried Boyfriend, remus being a Doting Mediator, light hurt/comfort, nauseating amounts of fluff, sirius being the butt of the joke, literally just cuddles massages and kisses
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You apparently see your daily life as one long continuous extreme sport, and thus, so are the lives of Regulus and Remus, whose hearts are always working overtime to handle the stress of your near-death experiences.
When Regulus ran up to Remus, slightly red in the face and already huffing and puffing, Remus knew for a fact that you were the cause of his concern. Others might have read his body language as angry, but Remus knew this to be his boyfriend’s mother hen instincts kicking in – which means his were about to, too.
“What’s she do?” Remus sighed as he stood up from his seat outside the Great Hall, already throwing his bookbag over his shoulder, prepared to walk off.
“She’s in the infirmary,” Regulus hissed, grabbing Remus by the arm to pull him away, barely slowing down his gait.
“Oi! You can’t just run off!” 
Remus, admittedly, had forgotten that his best friend – his boyfriend’s brother, mind you – was sitting with him and was in the middle of chatting his ear off when he spotted Regulus. “Sorry, Pads, I’ll catch you later,” he tried calling over his shoulder as Regulus wholeheartedly ignored him.
“What?! Hey, no–” Sirius all but sputtered, self-righteously undignified by the whole ordeal, as if this was not a common occurrence by now. James began patting his back not much unlike one would do a child, placating him with whispers, no doubt about all the mess they could get into without Remus’ supervision.
“Why is she in the infirmary?” Remus asked when he was able to return his full attention to the boy whose breathing was still a bit too quick for comfort. He had half a mind to begin taking care of him instead and calm him down, but for now he settled for pulling him further into his side as they walked.
“I don’t know,” Regulus bit out through clenched teeth. “Pandora just told me in passing that she had seen her in there. I have no idea what she has gotten herself into this time. You’re lucky I walked past you on the way there, otherwise you would have been the last to know.”
Remus mulled over it for a moment, visualising your schedule that he memorised months ago. “She had Care for Magical Creatures last period, right?”
Regulus’ head whipped to the side to stare at him incredulously, clearly not having pieced that together yet. Though it was hard to tell, it seemed like his face had paled. His grip on Remus’ arm migrated to interlocking their elbows so he could more effectively drag Remus along as he sped up at the thought of what could have happened.
One of the things Remus most enjoyed about your relationship was getting to know the small quirks of yours and Regulus', your signs and your tells. For Regulus to forget all about Remus’ aching joints and rushing him along without ample support meant that he was beyond stressed on your behalf. Had Regulus not been here, Remus would have been much the same, thoughts able to spiral into the darkest of places when left to his own devices – alas, he was, so Remus collected himself appropriately and tried to be the grounded one.
“She’ll be alright,” he murmured as they turned the last corner before the infirmary. 
“She bloody better be,” Regulus huffed, voice laced with concern and poorly-hidden devotion. “Because I will be having a word with her about not prioritising her health and safety.”
Remus squared his shoulders, prepared to play the dual role of mediator and concerned boyfriend, perhaps with a touch of nurse as well, if necessary. 
“Good afternoon, Poppy,” he greeted warmly when he saw Madam Pomfrey by the entrance, giving Regulus’ arm a subtle tug to make him slow down. If there was one thing the matron did not tolerate, it was disturbances in her little wing.
“Oh, Remus, are there any concerns today?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion as this visit did not line up with their usual cycle of visits. Quickly, her eyes drifted over to Regulus, whose face was still noticeably flushed and realisation dawned on her face. “Ah, I see. She’s to the left, three beds down. Though I would advise keeping a distance.”
Regulus’ eyes widened almost comically at the last comment, letting go of Remus in favour of stalking down the hall as quickly as Madam Pomfrey would allow. Remus had to admit his own heart twisted in worried confusion as he gave a small smile and thanks before hurrying after his boyfriend.
He saw Regulus slip between some white privacy curtains mere seconds before he was able to follow himself. “Amour!” he heard Regulus say, abandoning any attempt to conceal his worry.
Remus held his breath as he drew the curtain back just enough to enter your little makeshift alcove, expecting the worst. Surely, he would find you with your leg elevated in a large cast, bloodied bandages all over your face or arms, hair half burnt off.
Instead he heard a small sniffle and your flushed face came into view where it poked out from beneath heaps of wool blankets.
“Oh, hi lovelies,” you murmured in the sweetest tone but with the most painful rasp Remus had heard in a while. It was immediately followed by a fit of coughs.
“Oh, dovey,” Remus cooed pathetically, rushing to sit down on the side of your bed. Regulus was still standing by the curtain, mouth slightly agape as he took in the scene.
This clearly was not what either of them had expected.
“What happened to you lovely girl, hm?” Remus whispered to you, perhaps with a small hope that you would reply in an equally low tone and spare your clearly hoarse voice.
You were truly bundled up under mountains of blankets, messy hair, glossy eyes and runny nose the only visible part of your body. The bedside table was littered with used handkerchiefs, paper towels and small plastic cups used to take potions. Some bottles of potion Remus identified as cold treatments were placed on the edge with a little note with jotted down time stamps. You looked absolutely, thoroughly poorly. 
“I’m sick,” you said hoarsely. You made a noise that sounded like choked laughter, likely at how terrible you sounded, but it just made it worse.
“We can see that, amour.” Regulus’ voice had become ten times softer, and he sat down on the other side of the bed from Remus, reaching out to cup your surely overheated face with his perpetually-cold hand. Remus could feel the phantom touch as his fingers ghosted over the apple of your cheek. 
“Don’t be rude,” you whispered cheekily, but you leaned into his touch with a sigh. “I look perfectly happy and healthy.”
Regulus snorted that laugh he only ever let slip around you two. “You do look beautiful as always. Though perhaps a bit like you’re on your deathbed, which you know you’re not allowed to be.”
You groaned, stretching your body beneath the tangle of blankets. “Ugh, I know,” you huffed, sounding pained. “I feel like it, too. Woke up feeling a bit, I don’t know, stuffy, but I tried to head off to class,” – Regulus made a disapproving sound, but let you continue – “and then I just really came down with it in Astronomy. Didn’t even make it to Magical Creatures.”
At least that's a relief.
“You should have stayed in bed if you woke up feeling poorly, love,” Remus murmured, fishing for your hand beneath the blankets. You happily gave it to him and his heart keened at how you seemed to crave his touch. 
“But I didn’t know I felt poorly poorly. Just… poorly. You know?”
Remus sighed almost dreamily. “I don’t.”
At the same time, Regulus softly said, “You’re not making much sense, pretty girl.”
You groaned your way through a voice crack, turning your head into the pillow on the side Regulus wasn’t lightly caressing. “I feel like the fever is eating at my brain.”
Both boys hummed in sympathy. Remus fought the urge to manhandle Regulus into bed beside you so he could hold you both and shield you from the world.
“It’s alright, amour. Sirius has survived 17 years without a brain, so you can surely manage at reduced capacity for a day or two.” He wore a cheeky smile from the beginning of the sentence, evidently proud of the opportunity to jab at his older brother.
Remus would have to deny it if Sirius asked, but he barked a laugh.
“That’s not very nice, Reggie,” you almost whimpered, though you too were smiling too. “I don’t have the energy to tell you off for being mean to your brother.”
“Well, at least we got one good thing out of your suffering,” Regulus offered, and his smile grew genuine when you laughed at that and lightly shoved his shoulder – clearly his end goal.
You furrowed your brows and brought your unoccupied hand up to rub by your temple. “I really do feel horrid, though. I might have to stay here overnight.”
“You poor sweet thing,” Remus cooed in sympathy. He lightly guided your hand back to lay on your chest as he brought his hands up to massage carefully at both of your temples, moving his thumb in slow circles. Regulus let his hand move from your cheek to drift through your hair so Remus could have space, calming the chaos of frizz caused by your time in bed. Your sigh sounded heavenly as you sunk further back into the pillows and let your eyes drift shut. “We’ll take care of you, yeah? Nurse you back to health?”
You hummed your approval, small tug at the corner of your lips that warmed his heart.
Regulus used the spell Sirius had constructed to expand the infirmary beds during Remus’ monthly stays, adding enough space for him to lay down beside you. When Sirius made it, it had originally been with the intention of the Marauders huddling together, but it was quickly capitalised on by you and Regulus. He got more comfortable beside you, head on the pillow next to yours where he continued playing with your hair in that way he knew soothed you. Remus remained sitting so he could give your face and scalp ample attention, relieving you of your tension headache with practiced ease.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, voice muddled by your hoarseness and oncoming sleepiness. Remus just smiled in response, trusting you would know it even when you couldn’t see it.
“Of course, amour,” Regulus whispered in turn, sounding more emotional than usual when confronted with your vulnerable state. This was nowhere close to the scolding-deserving mishap he had expected to find in the infirmary. “I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain.”
“Well, you shouldn’t,” you huffed then. “I don’t want you getting sick.”
Regulus let out a breathy laugh and kissed your forehead defiantly, bottom lip brushing against Remus’ thumb and shooting pleasurable tingles up along his skin. “Too bad, lovely. We’re both staying here.” He looked up through his long eyelashes to meet Remus’ eyes, face scrunching up in affection with his lips still ghosting over your skin.
“Most certainly,” Remus whispered over the honeyed love that coated his throat and tongue. “We will nurse you right back to health, dovey. You just sleep now.”
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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FACE DOWN, DOLLED UP ♡
pairing: light yagami x fem!reader
summary: over the past few months, you've reunited with your best friend from college. in the midst of your blossoming connection, he has a special role he wants you to play for him.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dollification, infidelity
a/n: i wasn't gonna post this till later but i got excited... i love him so bad. he is everything to me. all night. all day. no lube. no protection. i hope my fellow light bulbs enjoy 🙏 and comments and reblogs mean the world to me <3
kinktober slot: day 11 - dollification
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"The goddess of the new world. The one I'll keep by my side as I rule. The only being I'll cherish in this reality. That will be you."
The words fell from between Light's lips with ease. To anyone else, they would sound like the absolute truth. After all, he said them with such conviction. But you knew better.
As much as you adore him, you would never call Light someone you trust.
You'd met him at university years ago and had been taken with his intelligence and blunt way of viewing the world. At that time in your life, you weren't sure of anything. You couldn't help but be drawn to someone so absolutely certain of everything.
It was a cult of personality, yet you were the only member. You longed for Light, craved his confidence, which then turned into just basking in his mere presence. You wanted him bad, but the timing just never seemed right between the two of you. He got a girlfriend, and you became swept up in your studies.
Now when he says these words telling you that you're special, you want to believe him. You want him to give you what you yearn for. You want for them to be real so badly, but you still can't fully give in to that hope. Why did he need you so much now when he let you slip away from him for years?
He called you a few months ago, asking to go to lunch. There'd been no reason to decline, so you met up with him the next week to 'catch up.' When you arrived at the small restaurant and took your seat across from him, he smiled at you like you'd just come from your shared lecture all those years ago. You fell into a conversation as if you were still best friends.
After that initial meeting, more followed. You kept seeing him even when he mentioned that he and Misa still lived together. In your head you reasoned that you and him were just friends. It was fine to hang out with your friend. But then your dates started to include lingering looks and fleeting touches. Then soft confessions and stolen kisses. You were no longer Light's friend, but you shamefully continued to come to him time after time.
I loved him first you told yourself.
You found out he was Kira when he confessed several weeks ago out of necessity. Too many people in your circles had died. You couldn't lie for him if you didn't know you should be. He didn't want you mentioning off-handedly that these deaths started happening not too long after your reconnection. Or that they only seemed to occur within days of you complaining about the victim bothering you.
At first, it scared you, finding out that Light had such power. But it also made sense. If anyone you knew could wield the force of death, it would be him.
As with everything else he did, you accepted it. Unlike your compliance with his infidelity, this wasn't your fault though. What was the other option? You didn't believe you meant more to Light than his crusade. Even though he killed for you, he was Kira before your lover. You would die before he lost his war. 
He would take a life for your presumed benefit, but you didn't credit that fact to you being special. Your love didn't blind you to his arrogance. More than you, he loved to show off, craved the satisfaction that came with having ultimate power over someone. Or in his case, everyone.
That's why when he proclaimed you his goddess last week at one of your rendezvous, you were still hesitant to accept the words. 
He lives with Misa. His speeches about having no love for her ring hollow when half of your bed remains empty each night. Why can't he just commit to you instead of trying to fill your head with ideas of divinity?
Tonight, you meet him in a hotel room. One he booked just for the two of you. It was a nice space. Not some cheap place rife with other affairs and unfaithful couplings. The elevator ride to your floor is smooth and quiet. 
He's already inside when you arrive.
You see him sitting on the edge of the bed as you push the door open and enter silently. All the linens were still tucked in place. His eyes lift to meet yours.
"There you are," he says. 
His voice comes out softer than usual. Not with affection necessarily. It almost sounds weary.
You pad over the smooth hotel carpet with caution. Light was never weary. Never showed vulnerability. No one was ever allowed to see weakness from him.
"Are you alright?" you ask, tone matching his in its lack of intensity.
Stopping between his legs, you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb swipes back and forth across his smooth skin. His rich brown eyes linger on your features, a whirlpool of emotions storming within them.
"Yeah," he answers in contrast to what you see.
Curling his fingers around the dips in your waist, he sits you on his thigh and pulls you close on his lap. He noses the curve of your neck, kissing the flesh tenderly and breathing in the smell of you.
"I want to try something tonight. Will you let me?" he murmurs.
"What is it?" you ask, your own fingers stroking through his sandy locks.
The question puts a smile on his face and draws a quiet laugh from his lips. "Don't you trust me?"
You mirror the expression with your own mouth. 
Do you trust him? It’s a loaded question. One you would think deeply about if it were asked in another context. But here, you do what any person desperately seeking the approval of their lover would.
"Yeah."
"Exactly. So say yes, and let me show you," he says.
Staring into his eyes for a few seconds more, you contemplate the request. You had no clue what he was going to do. Why couldn't he just say it? What was there to hide? Maybe it's more of an embarrassment thing. You still don't know even after thinking it over, but you decide to agree anyway. After all, you said you trusted him.
"Ok," you whisper with a small bob of your head.
Upon seeing your little nod, his smile morphs into a grin.
"Good girl," he says and pecks the corner of your mouth.
He moves you off his lap and onto the bed before getting up. Walking to the chair by the window, he picks up a couple bags. They look like nice ones from luxurious stores, names of brands you'd never even heard of displayed across the sleek laminate exteriors. He sets them down at your feet.
"If I'm going to have you by my side as I rule, I want us to be united. I want you presented as if you were made in my image," he says, voice dropping and the words oozing out a bit cooler.
Your eyes watch him as he speaks. So wide and innocent. The ache for his affection visible within them even if you don't want it to be.
He drags two of his slender fingers down your cheek again. When they reach your jawline, he maneuvers your face around. His hand tilts it to different angles as if studying you.
"You're going to be perfect," he says quietly.
Bending down, he fishes the items from the bag and lays them out next to you on the bed. First a black dress made of sheer chiffon with velvet roses laying over obsidian satin. It's the prettiest thing that would ever be on your body in your life.
Next comes a matching pair of glossy pumps. He drops them next to the dress on the mattress before pulling you to your feet. He positions you in front of him looking down his gifts and rests his chin on your shoulder. You can feel his eyes on your face, scrutinizing each detail for a reaction.
"Are those for me?" you ask.
"Of course they are. Who else would they be for?" he responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
You shrug, your own pupils scanning the items up and down. "They're nice," you continue slowly. This wasn't at all bad, and the pieces were beautiful. They just weren't what you had imagined.
"I want you looking your best when you're by my side," he whispers.
His hands drift down to your hips, and he turns you around. He brushes his nose against yours, coasting his lips by so that they just barely touch your own.
"Let me show you how good it'll feel. Be my little doll for the night," he whispers, his breath tickling your face.
It feels so good being this close. You nod and tilt your head to connect your mouths. He kisses back, palm sliding up to cup the back of your neck.
You get a few more soft smooches before he pulls back.
"Let's get you dressed up then."
He begins to remove the clothes you wore here. Your top is the first thing to hit the floor. It crumples in on itself next to your ankles. You're left bare, little chills erupting over your skin as the cool air hits you. He spins you around slowly and unclasps your bra, letting your breasts fall free.
His hands weave under your arms to come around and cup the mounds. They press into the flesh, absorbing their warmth and savoring the feeling of you. His precious reprieve. His sweetest escape.
Your nipples pebble from the cold and the heat of his hands hitting you all at once. Sighing, you tilt your head back and allow the tension in your shoulders to melt away for now. The same slender fingers that whip a pen around with ease tweak and pinch at the hardened buds until you're whimpering.
After he's satisfied his interest, he lets them go and then removes your bottoms. The button comes undone and the zipper follows. He slides the garment down your legs. To aid him, you step out of it and kick the bundle of cloth aside to sit with your shirt. The move earns you a light pinch to your hip.
"Dolls don't move," he whispers and nips at the skin of your neck, teasing a potential love bite, "They don't do anything on their own. You leave everything up to me."
The words send a chill down your spine. "Sorry, Light," you say softly.
"They don't talk either," he says and kisses up your neck, "They stay quiet and still. Just a good girl for me to play with."
You sink back into him upon hearing that because it's exactly what you want. All you desire is to be good for him. To be the thing he wants to play with. The one he uses to feel safe when everything else is one minute away from spiraling out of control. 
He strips you of your own socks and shoes. You're only left in the dainty panties you arrived in, but he ends up taking those too. He drags them off your legs - you stand completely motionless this time, letting him lift each limb to free you of the underwear. After he shoves them in his pocket, it's time to dress you in your new attire.
He picks up the elegant black dress and steps you into it before shimmying the cloth up your body. Slipping each of your arms into the sleeves, he then zips up the back. The fabric clings to your curves, highlighting your figure in a flattering shape. He rakes his fingers up the dark material, feeling it move with his digits.
Next, he sits on the bed. Even now, Light wouldn't crouch or get on his knees for you. He perches on the edge of the mattress and pulls you onto his lap again. Taking one of your legs behind the knee, he bends it up so your foot rests on his thigh. He grabs one of the heels nearby and unfastens the buckle. Sliding your foot into the sole, he clasps in place again and then repeats the process with your other.
Finally, he stands you up and walks you over to the mirror. The feeling of his eyes moving over your body in the new dress and shoes is palpable. His hands stretch across your belly while he holds you there for his appraisal.
Looking at your own appearance, the image standing before your eyes pleases you. The dress fits perfectly, and the shoes gleam beneath them just right. You look like his. Feel like it too with the way his arms cage you against him.
"You look beautiful. Don't you think?" he says.
You wonder if this is a trick or if you're supposed to know how to answer without moving or speaking. But before you can dwell too much on this, he cups your jaw and squishes your cheeks. His hand propels your head up and down in a little nod.
"That's my girl," he praises, smile absolutely sinister across his face.
Even though you didn't do anything to earn that praise, it makes you swoon all the same. His. Maybe it wasn't just a feeling, maybe it was closer to being real. As long as you showed him that you could be good, that you could listen, he would see that you're the better fit for him.
He pulls a chair up in front of the reflective pane and sits down, perching you on his thigh once more. The side table sitting next to the mirror held another bag like the one your outfit came from. This one was much smaller but still chic looking.
Light reaches for it and fetches a few small items from within. On your lap he places a compact of powders, a tube of lip gloss, some mascara, and a few brushes.
"I want those to stay right where I put them. Knock them off, and I won't give you anything else," he warns.
You don't say or do anything, not even a nod. This pleases him, and he pecks your cheek.
Never did you think you'd see the day where Light did your make up. But here you sit in his lap, obediently calm as he brushed dark powder across your lids and coated your lashes in mascara. You open when he says open, close when he directs as much. You hold your position like a statue as he glosses over your lips and swipes away any excess with his thumb.
Watching you sit there without a move or a word has his cock stiffening up beneath you. You're following everything he says down to the letter, treating him with the respect he deserves. He can't get enough. If he wanted your head to be empty, it would be. You'd sit on his lap or at his feet or wherever he fucking asked because the only thing you need is him, and that's so clear now.
When he's all done, he guides your face back in the direction of your reflection. Your eyes meet the pair looking back at you and then cast on the other version of him. He's staring right back.
"I knew you'd be perfect," he says.
You can feel his semi beneath your thighs. Knowing he's feeling worked up has your body responding in kind. You're still bare down there since he didn't bother replacing your panties. You can feel your folds becoming a little damp, but you still don't move, not a single squirm or whine.
He keeps you there, staring at you, taking in what he had made with your body. His hands roam over your curves, digging into your plush flesh.
"Your hair is pretty enough. I won't have to do anything with it tonight," he praises.
He then boosts you to your feet. His body doesn't follow right away. He takes a moment to stay behind in the chair, admiring your ass and leaning forward to hold your hips between his palms.
"Just look at you," he says.
Now he stands. He walks around you, leaving you in front of the mirror by yourself. He goes back to the bed and sits at the end.
"Come over here," he commands.
You suppose since it's an order that it's ok to move. Your first step is hesitant as you find your footing in the tall heels. It only takes you a couple seconds to get used to them though. You manage to walk the rest of the way with ease.
His cock hardens further as he watches you obey without question. You come to him like a well-trained pet. Exactly what he wants.
When you come to a stop in front of him, he pauses and takes a moment to think. He wanted you now. The urge to undo all his work, nearly insatiable. He tries to pace himself though.
"Do you feel pretty?" he asks you.
You hesitate, but he gives you a nod to speak. "Yeah," you answer.
"Yeah? Can you see your place at my side?" he asks, eyes raking over every detail of your form.
"Yeah."
"That's where you belong, hm?"
"Yeah," you say. It almost comes out a whisper.
He chuckles lowly before waving at you. "Come here."
You take the few remaining steps and close the distance between you two. His arms wrap around your waist and twirl you so you fall back on the bed. He climbs on top, grinding his growing bulge against your hip.
"That is where you belong. And that's where I'll keep you for the rest of our days," he mutters.
He leans down and engulfs your mouth in a flurry of kisses. His hands float across the dress, groping and squeezing your body. He doesn't silence the little whimpers and squeaks that come from you right now. Instead, his mouth drifts to your neck, making good on those love bites he teased earlier.
"You won't have to worry about anything, pet. No thoughts in that little head except being good for me," he mutters.
When he pulls back, his eyes are blown with lust. They focus on you with intensity so passionate it's almost frightening. He grabs your chin and holds you in place as he seemingly inspects your appearance once more.
"Fuck, how could anyone not want to worship you when you look like this?" he mumbles.
He rises back onto his knees, pushing down his fly and pulling his cock out. His fingers rise to fiddle with his shirt's buttons before he shrugs it off too. He doesn't bother with his pants beyond pushing them down enough so they're not in the way. Once his cock is available, he strokes it a few times and lets it fill out all the way.
The sight is enough to have more slick collecting between your thighs, which is fortunate since Light isn't the most patient. On his best days, he was needy for you. On his worst, he was inconsiderate. Right now seems to be a mix of both.
Reaching out, he grabs your thighs and yanks you down the bed to him. Your dress bunches at your hips as it catches between your back and the sheets. It works out since he pushes it up the rest of the way.
Seeing you in the outfit he chose, the shoes he bought, with nothing underneath strokes his ego in a way he can't explain. You being exposed now, no barriers keeping you from him just makes it worse. It brings to mind visions of a future where he could have you whenever he wanted. You'd exist for him, easily accessible, his for the taking. And he'd take advantage of it every moment he could.
He slots his cock at your entrance, rocking forward at first and gathering some of your wetness on it. After seeing the glisten of you on his tip, he rotates himself so he's at the right spot to push in. Your tight hole accepts his shaft inch by inch, clamping around him from the first seconds.
You whine as he splits you open, now squirming beneath his body, unable to stay still.
"Feels too good? My little dolly can't hold herself together anymore?" he taunts breathily.
You shake your head in response, and he laughs. It only encourages him to shove more in.
He has you completely full moments later, hips flush against your center as deep as he can go. You don't get any time to adjust with Light. He wants to fuck now, so that's what you're doing. Along with no talking or moving, you're pretty sure dolls don't get a say on this matter either.
More needy sounds pour from your lips, but he still doesn't get on you for it. It drives his confidence through the roof seeing that someone as well-behaved as you couldn't manage anymore when he slid inside.
His hips push and pull, slamming in and out of your cunt with a steady rhythm. He lifts your legs to sit over his shoulders. The heels he bought and paid for and had fantasized about you in for weeks bobble by his head. He grits his teeth as the pure satisfaction from the thought flows through him.
"Everyone will worship you, and you'll worship me like the good girl you are," he moans more to himself than you as his hips speed up a bit.
You get so tight for him when he talks that he can't stop. Words just keep leaking out in an endless stream.
"Gonna fuck you like this everyday. Put you in new pretty outfits and then bend you over in 'em. Make sure you remember you're mine. Every inch of you, all for me," he grunts.
His thrusts get harder. You feel little tears pricking at your eyes from all the stimulation, but you can't cry. You can't ruin your makeup. Not when he'd been so careful with how he applied it. You sniffle and wipe at your waterline, but lucky for you, he doesn't seem to notice what you're trying to avoid.
"No one else can have you. No one else gets to know how good you feel or how obedient you are. You're the one for me, the one I'll keep," he mutters. The pleasure rushing throughout his body and fogging up his head makes half of it incoherent, but you eat it up anyways.
"Light!" you finally cry out and arch your back when his cock rams against the sweetest spot inside you, "I'm all yours. Swear. Don't want anybody else. Just you. Forever and ever and ever..."
You trail off as he fucks all the thoughts right out of your pretty little head. His body comes down on yours again, bending you in half and sliding against you as he works himself all the way inside over and over. You claw at the thin hotel bedding for some form of relief, but there's no escaping him.
Release builds in your tummy, your toes curl and your breaths become ragged. You know better than to finish without asking though.
"Can I cum, Light? Please, need it so so so bad," you beg, eyes still almost teary.
He looks down. A wave of lust crashes into him as he sees how your lip quivers and water rests at the edges of your eyes, waiting to spill.
"You have been so good for me," he says, wanting a bit more pleading out of you before he gives his permission.
"Mhm! Please. I'll keep being good. Just gotta cum cause you make me feel so good," you whine.
He grins and ruts forward particularly hard. "Go ahead then."
And you do. You cum so hard you feel like your body is gonna twist into knots. You squirm and mewl, noises coming out unfiltered and unrestrained. Your vision goes spotty, and all that's left is him. Him pummeling into you, panting above you, not stopping as you crest over the peak.
He grips onto you harder and keeps fucking you through it. His bangs fall across his eyes from all the movement. You're so warm and tight and wet as you release all over him that it only takes a few more strokes before he shoots his load inside you.
A needy moan seeps from his lips as he works it into you. He thrusts it deep inside, he didn't want any of it spilling out and making a mess on your new dress. At least not the first time the two of you did this.
After he finally pulls out, he lets your legs drop onto the bed. They bounce against the mattress that's too springy. Your chest puffs up and down from the exertion you just went through. After taking a few minutes to come down, you yawn and stretch, limbs sprawling outward to reach for him.
But you don't find him. You turn to see why that is and find his back facing you. He sits at the edge of the mattress hunched over - one of his hands clicks through his phone while the other runs through his sweaty hair. You're about to ask what's the matter, but he turns to you and answers that question himself.
"I have to go. There's a problem back at the apartment. Misa needs my help," he says and rises to his feet.
He straightens out his clothes and tries to make his hair look more presentable. You watch in disbelief. He wasn't even going to stay the night?
"But Light..." you say softly and sit up.
As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out to pet your head.
"I'll see you again soon. It won't be like this for too much longer," he says. You can see the hesitation in his eyes before he makes his next move. He leans down and kisses your forehead. "Keep being good for me. My little doll."
Those are the last words he says before he leaves you there alone.
Flopping back on the bed, you stare at the ceiling in silence. You may have been dressed like a goddess in your expensive get up, but you'd never felt so cheap.
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