#I am resisting the urge to go off on someone and be like yes! fake safe words can be ethically and safely used in cnc

[midnight-soulless-system]

Be proud of me y'all

[aonungapologist]

you simply hate me

ao’nung x reader

“Lo’ak, are you alright?” Your gentle voice, sweet as honey, rang out in the chilly air, as you caught up to Lo’ak and Ao’nung. Ao’nung sighed heavily at the sound of your voice. The familiar feeling began brewing inside him, a feeling that gnawed at his heartstrings and that made his mind start screaming at you to go away, leave.

You examined Lo’ak, but he put your worries at ease with a small smile. “I am okay,” he reassures you, a hand on your upper arm, and Ao’nung resists the urge to undo all the progress on his relationship with Lo’ak.

Lo’ak leaves, and he’s left alone, with you. Your back is to him, and, in an eerily calm tone, you state, “come.”

Ao’nung follows you; he does not know what else to do. He has not seen you since the fight, and when you looked at him like that, as you and Kiri walked away from the commotion, another feeling started to brew just underneath the all too familiar one of past. But he disliked this one even more, it made him feel powerless, like you held the key to every wall he had spent so long building.

In your marui, you set to work, collecting the healing paste you’d need for his injuries. His ears went up in silent confusion, that new, unfamiliar feeling starting to take over again. Why would you care for him, when he’d spent all his time telling you, over and over again, that he wanted nothing to do with you?

The silence that fell over you while you gently applied healing paste to his cuts and scratches suffocated him. He felt a wave of guilt crashing into him, knocking him off his feet and carrying him away with the ocean. How could one be so gentle, so caring, so amiable to another who made them so miserable?

You hesitated before healing the cut on his cheek, deciding to speak instead.

“You simply hate me.” It was spoken like a fact, like no one had ever questioned it before.

“Of course I hate you.”

And of course, he regretted it as soon as it left his lips, which he shut immediately, for fear he would say something else that would entirely ruin this forever.

For he was sick and tired of this feeling that wanted you to leave, to hate him and go find someone else who could care for you and make you feel like the Great Mother herself was smiling down upon you. He was sick and tired of worrying that you would get too close, and see every little flaw in him, and you would despise him as he pretended to you, and you would leave him as heartbroken and empty as your eyes looked now, as you asked a simple question that shattered that feeling into a million pieces.

“Why?”

Why? Ao’nung could not begin to answer.

“Have I done something to you?” No, no. Ao’nung doubts you could ever do something that would make anyone dislike you.

“No,” he whispers, his walls crumbling down; perhaps they had been fake all along.

“Then why do you dislike me so?”

“Because-” No. He is done. No longer will he pretend to despise the very ground you walk on, no longer will he act as though your very existence irritates him.

“No. I will not do this any longer.” He stands up, desperate to get rid of the nervous energy he suddenly feels. “I will not act like this any longer.”

“Please, just answer me. Then I will leave you alone,” you begged, standing up with him. He did not turn around; he was too afraid to meet your honest eyes.

“I do not hate you. I have never hated you, in fact, I adore you; so much so that I can only think of how miserable you would be if you were to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“I would not be miserable.”

“Yes, you would-”

“No, I would not. I know you feel that you are a burden, a disappointment, but I could not disagree more. You are a fine free diver, one of our best hunters, and one day, you will be the greatest Olo’ekytan this clan has ever seen.”

Desperation, that’s all he felt as he crashed his lips onto yours, slamming you into the wall of your marui. You’re shocked, so much so that you don’t move for some time. But your brain eventually catches up, finally kissing him back. He groans, immediately deepening the kiss. And it’s dizzying; the way he holds the base of your neck with one hand, the other softly holding your waist. You hold his shoulders, your heart racing and beating harder than it's ever beat before. You move so that your hand is buried deep in his soft curls, which hang free under his bun. Your lungs begin to scream at you, burning and burning until you have to pull away.

You’re both panting heavily, and once you’ve caught your breath, you go straight back in, already yearning for more, for him.

To your frustration, he pulls away, his soft ocean blue eyes closed, his forehead carefully resting on yours.

“I did not realise what I was feeling, as I understood it, it was hate. But now I know… I was wrong,” he breathes, opening his eyes to meet yours; piercing, striking, right into his heart, his soul.

“Oel ngati kameie.”

Your breath hitches, your legs suddenly feel like they’re about to collapse under your weight, and your mouth opens, though you struggle to form a sentence.

You’re stunned; the last thing you expected him to say was that. An hour ago you thought he hated your entire being.

Your hand reaches to hold his face, tenderly, lovingly; you rub your thumb in soothing motions on his cheeks, which were a raging red blush.

“Ao’nung… oel ngati kameie.”

Sighing in contentment, you simply held one another. Basking in the others touch and love, finally feeling a deep calm that soothed every fibre of your being.

You didn’t want to look at anything else now that you saw him.

[que-serra-serra]

[Serennedy] Lucky shot

Against his better judgment, Leon takes Luis to the shooting gallery. Rated Explicit | 4.2k words | ao3 link

Leon took a steadying breath and focused on the feel of the unfamiliar gun in his hands.

A row of cardboard pirates appeared and Leon shot each of them in turn, left to right; one, two, three, four…four—

“Ooh, and a miss!” Came a mocking callout from behind him.

Leon tuned it out and kept his eye on the range. This would be the wave with two of the bonus skulls, and—there!

Leon blasted the cardboard bird with his shotgun and the spread took down one of the sailors too.

“Dios mío, now he is shooting civilians? That's dirty!”

Gritting his teeth, Leon kept going. He was one of the top marksmen in his training program, had been able to snipe distances other agents could only dream of, yet this clunky shotgun and stupid, rigged game—

“Bravo, bravo!” Obnoxious clapping sounded from behind him. “You somehow managed to hit everything except the target! Such skill!”

And that was when Leon slammed the shotgun onto the bench and whipped around to glare at his companion.

“You got something to say!?” he snapped.

Luis was smiling, leaned cockily against a barrel with his pistol dangling from his hand.

“Only that you've been at this for an hour and somehow only seem to be getting worse with time,” Luis said.

Anger flashed through Leon. “Yeah? I'd like to see you try.”

“Haven’t exactly gotten a chance to, since you've been hogging all the fun for yourself…” Luis gave an exaggerated shrug.

A lightbulb went off in Leon's head. “Tell you what,” he said. “You go on and try, and I can provide the snide comments.”

Leon tried to keep the smugness out of his voice. Luis being forced to put his money where his mouth was—and subsequently failing at it—would surely knock the arrogant man down a peg.

“Oh?” Luis raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “And if I beat your score?”

Leon scoffed: he’d seen Luis in a gunfight. That wasn’t going to happen. “Depends. How much are you willing to lose?”

“So cocky,” Luis sighed. “So, if I manage to outscore you in three tries…”

“One try,” Leon corrected. He wasn’t about to let someone else hog the whole shooting gallery when there were still prizes to be won.

“One try? Should not be a problem.” Luis smirked as he sauntered up to the range, and Leon couldn't wait to wipe that stupid grin off his face. “Then I win the bet.”

“Sure,” Leon said. “And if you lose, you’ll be shutting up for ten minutes every time I tell you to.”

“Aww, cielito, I thought you enjoyed hearing my velvety smooth voice,” Luis said.

Leon rolled his eyes in lieu of replying.

“And if I win…” Luis continued.

“Not gonna happen.”

“When I win, you’ll do a favor for me,” Luis said.

Leon frowned: he’d learned not to take anything at face value with this man. Luis had been sketchy about his past from the get go, from giving a fake identity and having inexplicable knowledge of the sickness plaguing the area, to only recently revealing that he’d been born in this village. 

Leon should have known better than to trust him, and yet…

“What kind of favor?” Leon asked.

Luis grinned, leaning back against the bench and drawing Leon’s eyes downward to…

The obvious bulge tenting his jeans.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Leon spat, neck flaming hot with embarrassment. “Are you always horny?”

Luis shrugged, completely unbothered. “Most of the time, yes. But especially after watching a sexy blond handling guns for the last hour.”

Something warm stirred in Leon's gut at the compliment even as he wanted to argue that his hair wasn’t even blond.

Instead, Leon scoffed and said “You’re insane.”

“On the contrary, I am a simple man with simple pleasures.” Luis smirked. “So? Do we have a deal? One round of shooting; if I lose, you win my silence on command, and if I win, you will do me a sexual favor?”

Leon barely resisted the urge to slam his head against the nearest wall and lament what the fuck his life had become.

But it wasn’t like Luis had any chance of winning. Even if he looked good standing there, with that goddamn smirk and making bedroom eyes at Leon with an obvious hard-on, the only thing that would come out of this was Leon receiving a much-needed mute button when it came to the Spaniard’s excessive rambling.

Why Leon actually felt disappointed by that fact was a mystery.

“Fine. Deal,” Leon said.

Luis winked. “You got it, amigo.”��

Luis turned to the shooting gallery while Leon took his earlier spot leaning against the barrel to watch the humiliation. 

Luis pressed the button to start a new round, raising his pistol…

“Hold on,” Leon said. “You’re supposed to use the shotty.”

Luis simply laughed and called out, “Not part of our deal!”

Leon’s protest was drowned out by a series of quick shots at the row of targets that appeared. Each of the pirates went down, yet the sailors were completely unharmed.

After the first wave, Luis reloaded his pistol and glanced over his shoulder with a smirk.

Leon’s face heated. “Beginner’s luck,” he said.

Rather than reply, Luis proceeded to demolish the following wave with his pistol—even hitting the damn birds that Leon couldn’t manage despite the spread of the shotgun to help him.

Wave after wave, Luis flawlessly completed the task before him. Each time his pistol rang out, a target went down and his score kept racking up.

Leon could only lean against the barrel and stare, his earlier snark long since forgotten, as Luis stood there in his stupid leather jacket wholly unfit for combat and completed the round with perfect precision.

Once the flashing lights of the bonus time ended and the machine gleefully proclaimed a new high score, Luis turned around with a grin and raised his pistol to blow at the no doubt piping hot muzzle.

Leon’s erection—when the fuck had that happened?—twitched happily at the theatrical display.

“So, amigo…” Luis spoke up and Leon very nearly jumped. This was probably the longest he’d seen Luis go without talking. “It seems that I won our little bet."

Leon cleared his throat, not trusting his voice. “And it seems to me like you cheated.”

Luis chuckled. “The pistol? Come now, querido, we both know you would have done even worse without the shotgun.”

Annoyance flared through Leon but somehow seemed to shoot straight to his already throbbing dick. “Wanna tell me how the fuck you’re so good at this? Are you just one of those guys who gets performance issues any time there’s real combat involved?”

“Oh trust me, cariño, I can perform very well under all kinds of circumstances,” Luis said, looking up through his lashes. 

Leon’s sweaty palms gripped the barrel’s edge tighter.

“But, I should probably have mentioned that I’ve been coming here for months to practice,” Luis said casually.

Leon huffed. “I knew it. Cheater.”

Luis grinned. “It’s only cheating if you break the rules.” He stalked towards Leon, then, hips swaying with every step. “And no matter how you look at it, I won our bet.”

With Leon leaned back like this, Luis was taller than him when he stepped close, almost looming over Leon. Surprisingly, Leon found he didn’t mind that in the slightest.

“Fine,” Leon said, trying to put animosity into his voice that he no longer even felt. “What do you want?”

Luis sighed and shook his head, leaning closer still. “Straight to the point, eh? You yanquis have no thoughts to romance.”

Without preamble, Luis kissed Leon, crowding him against the barrel and his hands coming up to cradle Leon’s head.

And somewhere between Luis’ tongue slipping in to caress Leon’s own and Luis’ thigh pressing between his legs, Leon groaned in both frustration and arousal alike and stopped pretending not to want it.

He brought one hand up to tangle in Luis’ greasy hair and grabbed a handful of leather jacket with the other. Luis hummed as Leon shoved his tongue between those clever lips, taking control of the kiss while holding the other man in place, lightly tugging on his hair.

“Mm,” Luis murmured against his lips and ground his thigh more firmly against Leon’s hardness. “I didn’t anticipate you to be so eager, guapo.”

“Yeah, well,” Leon huffed, pushing his hips up. “Hot dude, good with guns… you might have been onto something.”

Leon felt more than saw Luis’ smile against his mouth before they were kissing again. Affectionate pooled in his gut and mixed with the arousal already there; this was the first time Leon had openly acknowledged the—by now, obvious—attraction between them.

“Oh, corazon,” Luis said upon pulling away, before moving down to kiss at Leon’s neck. “Mi cielito, muy precioso.”

Leon swallowed a moan as Luis kept kissing at his neck and murmuring things he probably had no idea that Leon could understand. Clever hands left Leon’s face to trail down his torso, catching the hem of his t-shirt and pulling up.

“Mierda, look at you,” Luis breathed, looking down as inch upon inch of Leon’s abdomen and pecs were revealed. “So beautiful; I just want to eat you.”

Leon huffed a dry chuckle. “Get in line. I’m pretty sure some of the villagers were planning on making a soup out of me.”

“No, no, no,” Luis shook his head as he trailed his mouth down, over Leon’s shirt now bunched up under his armpits, until his face sat between naked pecs. “That would be absolutely tragic. You are much too pretty to be made into a stew.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Mm,” Luis hummed and brushed his lips over a nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” Leon cursed, arousal surging through him like lightning.

“Ah, you like that?” Luis said, then proceeded to kiss and lap at the nipple, making Leon bite back an embarrassing whimper.

When he felt the light scrape of teeth against the sensitive bud, Leon gasped and tightened the hand still resting on Luis’ nape.

“Harder,” he commanded.

“Dios mío, corazoncito,” Luis sounded out of breath, murmuring against Leon’s pec. “You drive me crazy.”

Teeth tugged sharply on Leon’s nipple and he trembled at the feeling, cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. A sinful tongue proceeded to lap at the bud trapped between teeth and Leon couldn’t suppress his noises this time. His head tilted back as he roughly squeezed around a handful of Luis’ hair and earned a husky groan, the vibrations traveling from Luis’ lips to his nipple in a delicious feedback loop.

As Luis’ mouth worked over his chest with teeth and tongue, a warm hand appeared out of nowhere to cup Leon’s erection through his pants.

“Jesus, Luis…” Leon breathed, grinding against the man’s palm to chase the much-needed friction to his cock.

Luis moaned, maybe in agreement, still nipping and kissing Leon’s nipple while his hand set to massaging Leon’s hard cock through his pants.

Leon knew he could come like this. He was too high-strung to make it last, and Luis’ mouth and hand felt way too good after days of nothing but death and violence. 

It would be so easy to get lost in this simple pleasure, tucked away in the relative safety of the merchant’s basement with the man who had slowly but surely wormed his way not only into Leon’s pants but also his heart—

But this wasn’t about him.

“Luis,” Leon tried, yanking on Luis’ hair to get his attention.

That only spurred Luis on, making him moan and rub over Leon’s pants with renewed vigor.

“Hey, asshole,” Leon tried instead.

That seemed to do the trick, as Luis’ head lifted and he looked up at Leon with a crease in his brow.

“Are we suddenly moving to humiliation?” Luis asked. “Because I don’t mind; it is a little surprising, I’ll admit, but after the chain bondage and role playing earlier—”

Leon rolled his eyes and silenced the rambling by shoving his tongue down Luis’ throat.

When Leon pulled away from the kiss, Luis was blinking in confusion. “Getting some mixed signals here, amigo.”

“Just reminding you that I’m the one who owes you a favor, not the other way around,” Leon said.

And that was all it took for the smile to be back in full force.

“Ah, bonito, you almost had me frightened.” Luis leaned his head on Leon’s naked abdomen, dangerously close to where Leon was still throbbing, and looked up at him with a knowing smirk. “Has anyone told you not to look a gift Luis in the mouth? I was very much enjoying myself, and I thought you were too.”

“I was,” Leon said. “Just wanted to, you know… get our deal out of the way.”

Luis raised a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow and Leon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself: that was no way to speak to someone he was sharing an intimate moment with. Leon’s ruthless communication methods may have served him well in the field, but in private it always seemed to end up with him putting his foot in his mouth.

“Ah, you Americans and your insistence to kill romance,” Luis sighed. “How difficult is it to live in the moment?”

But he was still smiling, placing a kiss on Leon's abs and his hand still making acquaintances with Leon’s crotch, lightly massaging even throughout this extremely unsexy conversation.

“Sorry,” Leon offered, trying not to grind against Luis’ hand too much. “I just… Fair’s fair.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I already decided what I want for my prize,” Luis smiled, pressing more firmly on Leon’s erection.

Leon bit his lip to suppress a groan and tried to keep his focus on the conversation. “Yeah, uh… what is it?” 

“This.” Luis squeezed Leon’s length through his pants. “My mouth on you.”

Leon’s horny, stupid brain took a second too long to catch up. “Huh?” he asked, but Luis only kept smiling and massaging him. “Wait—you wanna use the… sexual favor,” he grit out with some difficulty. “To blow me?”

Luis smiled as innocently as anyone with a handful of cock could. “Sí.”

“What the fuck,” Leon said. “That’s just—oh, god…”

Luis’ other hand had crept up Leon’s side and was now tweaking the earlier neglected nipple, creating a frizzling line of pleasure between his chest and his dick.

“Are you questioning my sexual preferences, querido?” Luis smirked. “Is a man not allowed to want to see a beauty like you unravel before them, to feel you pulsing in his mouth?”

“Fu—uck.” Leon wasn’t proud of the way his voice cracked at the word.

“Exactly,” Luis agreed. “Now what do you say? Can I pleasure you with my mouth? Suck you down until you are trembling your release down my throat? Hm?”

Luis twisted Leon’s nipple and rubbed over the head of his cock and Leon was dangerously close to coming on the spot.

“Yeah,” Leon panted. “God, yes, do it.”

“With pleasure,” Luis purred. 

Instantly, both hands left Leon’s body and instead worked frantically over his zipper, pausing only to push at Leon's hips until Leon got the hint and hopped up to sit on the barrel.

In no time at all, Luis had Leon’s fly open and was shoving a hand into his boxers, immediately gripping hard flesh. The rough warmness of his palm contrasting with the cool metal of his rings had Leon making a strained moan.

“Oh, Leon, look at you…” Luis breathed as he pulled out Leon’s leaking cock. “Dios mío, but you are beautiful all over. So pretty and pink down here.”

The words shot a hot flash of both shame and arousal through Leon’s entire body. For a moment, Luis simply stood there between his legs, slowly pumping Leon’s cock and looking at it like he was having some sort of religious experience. 

Leon’s body trembled from anticipation; soon, he’d get Luis’ mouth on him. He’d get to be inside Luis, cock enveloped in wet heat, making Luis moan and have to keep quiet, focusing on pleasuring Leon just as intently as he focused on the shooting range earlier.

Luis licked his lips and leaned in and god, this was really happening, Leon would finally get a break from all the shit that had been going on these last few days, from the cult and kidnapping and the parasite—

Shit. The parasite.

“Wait!” Leon said, grabbing Luis’ shoulder to halt him. He didn’t miss the annoyed sigh as Luis pulled back to stare up at him, unimpressed, but he had to ask—couldn’t risk hurting Luis. “Are you… will the parasite transmit to you if we…?”

Luis’ features relaxed into a smile. “Oh, but you are sweet.” He shuffled into a better position, kneeling properly on the floor. “But no, the parasite is not infectious at this stage and certainly not under the suppressant. Even then, mucous membrane contact isn’t nearly enough to transmit it. You have nothing to worry about.”

Leon sagged in relief. It was good that Luis knew so much about this stuff—maybe his history at Umbrella wasn't all bad. “Okay.”

“Now, was there anything else…? Luis said, teasingly sliding his hand up and down Leon’s cock.

“No, that’s—that was all,” Leon panted. “Shit, Luis, please—”

“I’ve got you, cariño,” Luis murmured, and then took the tip of Leon’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” Leon groaned, the hand on Luis' shoulder reflexively shooting up to grab a handful of his hair again. “Luis, fuck…”

Luis’ cocky hum was even better like this, the vibrations caressing the sensitive skin of Leon’s cock. Luis bobbed up and then back down, working over the tip and spreading spit and precum all over the head and dripping down the shaft.

“Holy shit,” Leon cursed.

He grabbed the edge of the barrel with his free hand to steady himself as Luis kept working over him. Luis was slowly but surely increasing the pace and swiping his tongue over the head each time he pulled up, moaning softly all the while—like he was the one getting off on this, and not Leon.

Leon couldn't remember the last time he felt this good; as nice as their first encounter had been, being pleasured by Luis’ hot mouth was something else entirely. It had been so long since anyone had given Leon head, and even longer since anyone had been this enthusiastic about it.

Something poked Leon in the thigh and he belatedly opened his eyes, not recalling when they’d slid shut, and looked down.

Luis smiled at getting his attention—as much as anyone could smile with their mouth full of cock—and stopped poking Leon’s leg in favor of pushing down on Leon’s hand still tangled in his hair.

Luis’ head lowered under their hands, making him take more of Leon’s cock and punching a gasp out of Leon. Luis pulled back up until only the tip of Leon’s dick rested in his mouth, looking up at him with blue eyes shimmering with meaning.

“You want me to…?” Leon said.

He pushed down on Luis’ head, forcing his mouth down Leon’s cock and earning a muffled moan. He did it again, a little further this time, before gently pulling Luis back up.

“This alright?” Leon asked.

This time, the answering groan sounded impatient. Luis glared up at him, his hand slapping back on top of Leon’s and pushing, until Leon’s cock bumped against the back of his throat and, fuck, it felt good, that pressure against his pulsing tip, but Luis was choking, his throat convulsing around Leon’s length—

Except Luis only moaned, loud and filthy and his eyelids fluttered shut even as wetness pricked by the corner of his lashes.

“Oh,” Leon breathed when Luis’ hand dropped away, giving over control to Leon. “You like this?”

He pushed Luis’ head back down, his cock sliding into the clenching throat. Luis choked out a garbled moan and reached a hand down to stroke his own recently freed erection.

Leon chuckled breathlessly and tightened his grip. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

It was surprisingly easy, falling into this new dynamic; with Luis’ enthusiastic moans and the way he was very obviously stroking himself in time with Leon fucking his mouth, Leon could let some of that carefully coiled control slip.  

He guided Luis up and down over his throbbing cock, muscles flexing with the effort of as he used more and more force. He alternated between pushing Luis as deep as he could go, holding him there until he was gagging, and pulling him up to shallowly thrust the tip of his cock between slick lips, occasionally tugging roughly at his hair to coax out more of his moans.

Spit ran down Luis’ stubbled jaw and his lashes clumped together with unshed tears, his throat working around Leon’s cock every time Leon forced him deep. The sight had no business being as arousing as it was, yet Leon could only bite his lip and guide Luis faster, deeper, already feeling his orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Leon breathed.

Luis actually whimpered at that, tightening his lips impossibly around Leon’s cock, not showing any signs of pulling away; freely offering himself for Leon’s pleasure, like he wanted Leon to come down his throat.

Leon’s cock throbbed with the reminder of just how much Luis was getting off on this, on being used by Leon, letting him fuck his mouth as he pleased and—and god, Leon wanted to claim him.

“Luis—fuck, Luis,” Leon said. “Can I come on your face?”

And when Luis only hummed his approval and looked up at Leon through his wet lashes, deep blue eyes swimming with an ocean of want, that was all it took.

Leon’s hips shot up off of the barrel and he thrust wildly into Luis’ mouth once, twice, and then pulled Luis’ head up and gushed his release over the normally smug face now wrecked with arousal. He watched his come hit Luis’ wet, open mouth, watched it land on his cheek and his chin while Luis only moaned.

It was too much. Overwhelmed, Leon squeezed his eyes shut and only faintly heard the murmurs of “Oh, Leon, so good, querido, so beautiful.”

And as the arousal slowly faded along with his orgasm, some of Leon’s brain cells finally returned. What the hell had he just done?

Reluctantly, Leon released the death grip he had on Luis’ hair and opened his eyes.

Leon's face flamed hot with shame as he saw his depravity all over Luis: the man’s face was streaked with come, some even dripping down his neck and down his jacket. 

“Jesus,” Leon breathed.

“You really have an obsession with marking me, eh?” Luis grinned, his voice hoarse but thankfully not seeming terribly offended. He looked down and huffed a sigh. “Mierda, you even hit my jacket again.”

Leon swallowed his comment about how ugly he found the jacket in favor of a simple “Sorry.” 

He grabbed a clean-seeming rag from a nearby shelf and wiped at Luis’ face. Luis half-heartedly swatted at him, with protests of "Come on, I can clean myself up", but then laughed as Leon accidentally poked him in the eye while wiping his drying tears. 

"Stop squirming," Leon ordered.

"Fine, fine," Luis snickered but obeyed. "Didn't know you were such a mother hen."

Leon finished cleaning the mess he'd made of Luis to the best of his abilities, trying to be gentle to offset some of the roughness that had overtaken him earlier.

It was strangely…domestic. Leon was inexplicably hit by an image of Luis sprawled out on the couch in Leon’s apartment in the States, sated and lazy and laughing at something he said, until Leon yanked him into a kiss—

Leon cleared his throat and looked away, hoping that his bangs hid his reddening face. "There. That should do it."

"Such a gentleman," Luis said. "Maybe not all yanquis are hopeless with romance, hm?"

Luis smirked and buttoned his pants, and Leon only now realized that he hadn't seen him come.

“So, uh,” Leon said. “Can I… do you want a hand, or…?”

Luis cocked his head. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “No, I took care of it myself. As you can see.” He grinned and nodded to the barrel.

Leon looked down and saw a very incriminating spot of white goo dripping down the side of the barrel. He felt his face flush even more: Luis had really come from that, from having his mouth full of cock and being roughly used by Leon.

And for the first time in years, Leon wasn't sure how to proceed. He had so many things to say, about whatever this was between them, about the affection making him want to constantly be near Luis, even as the other man had the capability to get on every last of his nerves, and about how he’d caught himself thinking about Luis still being there when this was all over...

“And you didn’t think to clean it up?” Was what came out of Leon’s mouth instead.

Luis grinned lazily, occupied with collecting his tokens from the machine by the shooting gallery.

"Loser of the bet is on cleanup duty," he said, then sauntered up the stairs. "Hurry, Sancho, or you won't get to see me winning the Luis figurine for you!"

Leon huffed out a silent laugh. He’d have to tip the merchant well in exchange for his discretion once this was all over.

Now, he simply followed after the spoiled, infuriating man who had somehow managed to win Leon's affection in addition to their dumb bet.

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 13

Phone calls, parties, and Oncie's inner badass comes out to play.

TW: There's a creepy guy being creepy. He doesn't get a chance to do anything, but he does say some uncomfortable shit. Starts at "As you resist the urge to kick your shoes off"

You didn’t think, when taking a new job, that you’d still be going to your old office everyday, and yet, that’s where you find yourself. Since your new workplace is so close, you’d made it a habit to walk over and join Onceler for lunch. Walking through the halls brought a sense of familiarity to you. The only thing different now is that, no matter what, you always get stares whenever you come, even though it had been a couple months since the news broke, but even those stares didn’t bother you much. You’d learned to block it out.

You enter his office without a second thought. He’s on his phone fuming at someone, but that hardly fazes you anymore; he’ll calm down as soon as he sees you. And right on cue, as he looks up, his expression softens, he mutters a “Just get it done, I have to go,” into the phone, and meets you in the middle of the room where he wastes no time kissing you.

“People are driving me insane today,” he pouts as the two of you make your way over to his desk.

“What brand of insane?” you ask idly. He loves to complain about work, but he’s rarely ever wanting a solution, just an ear to listen, and you’re happy to provide.

“Incompetence,” he sighs. “Is it really that hard to calculate sales numbers? I can do it myself, so why am I paying other people to do it wrong?”

“Because you always say you don’t have time to do it yourself,” you remind him, not bothering to suppress a smile.

He narrows his eyes in fake annoyance. “Stop being right. I wanted to complain for a while longer,” he teases.

“Now why would you want to waste time complaining when I can think of quite a few other uses for your lips?” As you speak, you slowly approach his chair until you’re straddling him, and lean down to capture his lips with yours. He’s only too happy to respond, running one hand up and down your back while the other threads itself through your hair.

You’d be quite happy to stay like that the rest of your lunch hour, but all too soon his phone rings, causing him to pull away, looking even more irritated than before. “Son of a…” he grumbles. “I told him I didn’t want to take calls during my lunch. This better be important.” He grabs the phone and barks out his usual “What?” before his face immediately blanches. “How the hell did you get this number?” he shouts, his voice an octave higher than normal.

You put your hand on the side of his face to gently turn it towards you, the question clear in your expression. He mouths the words ‘my mother,’ at you, and your own eyes widen. You hold your hand out hesitantly, though you don’t want to talk to her either, but he brushes you off.

“Well he wasn’t supposed to put you through,” he’s saying. “And I don’t care what sob story you give me, I’m not sending you money… oh, sure it’s not about money,” he snorts. “Then what could it be about?”

You’re holding his free hand, running your thumb over his knuckles to help in any way you can, when he suddenly squeezes your hand very tight. “They aren’t rumors,” he growls. “I did confirm them. Yes, I’m dating her. And I advise you to choose your next words very, very carefully.”

Oh. So you were what had prompted this call. Lovely.

“Oh my God,” he mutters, sitting back and closing his eyes. His tone has gone from annoyed to exasperated. “Yes, she’s the one you met… I’m aware you didn’t like her, but that was just because she was doing what I told her to do… I was in the room the whole time, I was hiding under the desk.”

There’s a pause, then a loud shriek that even you can hear pierces the room. Onceler holds the phone as far away from his body as he can, a look of sheer disgust on his face, until it quiets down. “You done?” he deadpans before turning beet red a moment later. “No I did not knock her up! Don’t bother me again!” he shouts, throwing the phone back onto the receiver with a slam.

“I’m going to kill him,” Onceler growls as he stands up. “I fucking told him that I don’t want to take any calls from her–”

“Baby, why don’t you let me take this one?” you suggest, putting your hand on his chest so he’ll sit back down. “It was just an honest mistake, okay? I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” You give him a quick peck on the lips and dart over to your old office before he has a chance to change his mind.

You know for a fact he probably did not mention to his new PA that he didn’t want calls from his family. He kept forgetting that since the poor kid was new, he was not going to run things the way you did. So, occasionally, you stepped in to keep the peace.

You stick your head in and see the kid at his computer. He’s very young, just out of high school. “So, I know he didn’t say anything, but don’t put through calls from his family,” you warn him. The kid jumps; he clearly didn’t know you were there.

“He doesn’t want to talk to his own mom?” he asks uncertainly. “Not ever?”

“Not ever,” you confirm. “Actually, here.” You grab a sticky note and a pen from his desk and scribble down the names of Onceler’s immediate family members. “If any of these people call asking for him, lie and say he’s busy. And if they say they’re here, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing or who he’s with, interrupt and give him a head’s up,” you instruct. “And I don’t care what he’s said–”

“Your instructions override his. I remember,” he finishes wearily.

“Good,” you smile before heading back into Onceler’s office, where he’s still reeling from the phone call. “There. All taken care of. Won’t happen again,” you reassure as you sit on his lap.

He still glares at his phone. “I thought for a second she might have been calling because of my birthday,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I guess I should know better than to get my hopes up at this point.”

You bolt upright and stare at him. “You’re going to tell me I misheard you. Today isn’t your birthday, is it?”

“It’s Saturday,” he grimaces.

“Oncie,” you complain. “Why didn’t you tell me? We need to go out, do something special. I don’t know what you could possibly want, or what I could get, but we could have a date night, just the two of us.”

The entire time you’re talking, he looks like he’s just bitten into a lemon. “I don’t like my birthday,” he mumbles. “Mostly because… okay, don’t kill me, but you remember that gala?”

“Yes?” You have a sneaking suspicion where this is going, but you’ll let him finish just in case you’re wrong. God, you hope you’re wrong.

“My birthday parties are a lot like that every year because that’s what people expect of me,” he winces. “I don’t like doing it, but there’s some people I need to keep in the good graces of. And if I try to do something private, they’ll see it as an insult, which is stupid but true, and if i keep it small, they’ll be awkward, so I can’t really do what I want, because if I had it my way, I really would just want to spend the day with you I promise–”

“Oncie!” you say loudly, cutting off his rambling. “It’s okay. I’ll go with you if you want me there.”

“I want you there more than anything,” he sighs, tension immediately leaving his shoulders. “Are you sure though? This would be very public.” He doesn’t say the words explicitly, but the implication is there: the press will have a presence.

You let out a huff of air. You definitely don’t want them there, but… “I mean, we can’t avoid them forever,” you point out, both to him and yourself. “I figured you’d still be taking me to any events, and we’d have to deal with them there too, unless you want to take him,” you tease, jerking your thumb towards the PA office.

Onceler pulls a face at that. “God, no. I only put that in your job description so I wouldn’t have to go alone if I didn’t want to, and then I only actually took you because I liked you. I specifically took that out when hiring this time. I can hardly handle a regular work day with him. I can’t imagine any extra time.” He pouts at you. “I hate HR laws. I liked you better.”

“I worked for you better than anyone else you’re ever going to find because I learned your quirks because I had a crush on you,” you answer smoothly. “Obviously, our personalities just meshed, and I don’t particularly want you to find what we have with anyone else. And I really hope you prefer dating me rather than having me work for you.”

“I mean, having you work for me and fucking you on the side was nice,” he says with a wicked grin. You narrow your eyes, but there’s no venom in your gaze since you can tell he’s clearly joking. “Anyway, even though I want to keep you, you should probably get going. I don’t want to make you late.” He gives you one last kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur before leaving, lost in your thoughts on the way back. As much as you do want to be there to celebrate and support him, you couldn’t deny you were nervous about Saturday. If you were under scrutiny the last time you saw some of these people, that was nothing compared to how you were going to be judged as his girlfriend.

But, as you’d said yourself, you knew this was going to come at some point. And now was that time. You were going to stand by his side where you belonged. No one was going to take that from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday morning found you waking up to an empty bed. This didn’t faze you; despite how heavy of a sleeper he was, his body also operated on a near-perfect sleep schedule–he woke up at almost the same time every day. On weekends, when you preferred to sleep in, he’d usually go downstairs and have breakfast ready by time you woke up.

You wander over to the dresser and throw on one of his shirts when you see a note on top of it. Curious, you pick it up and read through it quickly.

Darling,

I had to leave early to get some things set up for tonight. I’ll be back around six to pick you up. Oh, and I have someone coming at three to help you get ready. I’ll see you tonight.

Love, O

Your first reaction is to feel a hot streak of anger shooting through you–did he not think you could get ready on your own, or that you'd embarrass him or something? But you force yourself to swallow the initial feeling down and think about this more rationally.

He knew you could do this on your own. He’d seen you do it before. You remind yourself that this was the way he showed affection, and that most women liked having someone else do their hair and makeup and whatnot. He wasn’t trying to be malicious. He knew you weren’t looking forward to this and was trying to help in the best way he knew how.

You are disappointed he’s not here though. You were hoping to spend a few hours with him alone, before anyone else had a chance to intrude on your happiness. Instead, now there was nothing to do but wait.

At three on the dot, the doorbell rings, sending an echoing all throughout the house. You hasten to open the door, expecting to see one person. You’re not expecting a whole parade of people carrying clothing bags and what looks like entire suitcases of hair and makeup supplies. At the front of the group is a short woman who looks like she’s directing everything.

“Hello, miss!” she greets when she sees you. “Where am I setting up?”

“Um, through here I guess,” you mutter, totally nonplussed as you lead them to the sitting room. She starts unpacking her things immediately while you just stand there awkwardly.

Eventually, everything is put in place, and mercifully, everyone leaves except the one woman. “Sorry about all that, but I do like to make sure I’m ready before I start, and more hands make everything go faster,” she smiles. “My name is Mara. Shall we start with picking out a dress so I have an idea of what colors to use?”

“Oh… I was just going to wear a blue dress I have,” you mumble, rubbing your arm. Mara just smiles patiently. 

“The one you wore to the Woods gala?” she inquires. You nod, not bothering to ask how she knows that. “While that one was lovely, I’ve been in the game long enough to know people will be expecting to see you in something different. Mr. Onceler did pay for a dress for you tonight, so I’ve brought a few.”

This was way more than you were expecting, but you go along with it. At least that explained the clothes bags, which Mara starts to unzip to show them to you. Most of the options are a little too fancy for your tastes. You didn’t particularly want a super full skirt, anything too bright, or glitter. 

Finally, she shows you a simple but show-stopping emerald number. It was a similar style to your blue sheath, with a slit up one leg and a low back (which you knew he would very much appreciate), but everything above the waist was lace. You usually wouldn’t consider green, but it was his birthday, and it was much more muted than the shade he usually wore. He’d love you in it, you were sure.

“That’s it,” you tell Mara, who compliments you on your choice. The hard part over, she has you sit and does your hair and makeup with careful precision, keeping everything mostly light so you’ll still be the “centerpiece” as she calls it.

You’re in the washroom putting on a couple pieces of jewelry when you hear him return home. You slip into a pair of gold heels and rush out to meet him.

He’s talking to Mara, but his head swivels to you when you enter the room. His jaw immediately gets slack in the middle of a sentence and his eyes go wide as they restlessly roam up and down your body. You smirk to yourself. This was exactly the reaction you’d been hoping for. “Do I look alright?” you ask, just to mess with him.

“Uh huh,” he nods, seemingly incapable of getting any actual words out. He then clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, as if to clear his mind. “You look gorgeous,” he says earnestly. “Ready to go?” he asks, offering his arm to you.

“As much as I will be,” you decide, slipping your hand in the crook of his elbow before sending a quick “Thank you,” in Mara’s direction. He leads you out of the house to a car, one that he’s not driving, which is a little strange. Ever since you’d started dating, he’s chosen to drive the two of you around.

“I don’t want to deal with parking,” he answers your unasked question as he holds the door to let you climb in first. You suppose that’s fair. You get comfortable, but the second the car starts moving he pulls you close to him. “Who decided on the green?” he whispers in your ear.

You couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips if you had tried. “That was me. Happy birthday, love,” you grin cheekily, causing a sharp intake of breath from him.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me. You know that?” he asks before twisting one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling you forward to kiss you with a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl coming from the back of his throat. You’re only too happy to kiss him back (thankfully there’s a barrier between the two of you and the driver) until the car comes to a stop, when you hastily pull away and silently thank Mara for the fact that she’d given you transfer-proof lipstick.

Onceler gets out first. “Wait for me,” he murmurs, so even though you don’t love it, you stay still until he makes his way around the car to open your door for you. You know why he’s doing it; even in the brief moment when his own door was open, you saw the lights of flashing cameras and heard the cacophonous noise of a thousand questions all being asked at once.

At least you don’t have to wait long; he’s at your door very quickly. You take his proffered hand to let him help you out of the car before taking his arm again and do your best not to look completely out of place.

Just as you expect, the cameras go mad once again, and it’s even more disorienting than it was at the gala. You’d be lost if he wasn’t here acting as a lifeline. “Just pretend they aren’t here,” he bends down to whisper in your ear. “They aren’t allowed inside, so this will all be over soon.”

You nod and smile up at him, and continue to allow him to guide you. You didn’t know if you’d ever get used to this, but it was a sacrifice you knew you’d be making when getting into a relationship with him. You were happy to make it when he was the prize, because your relationship was quite literally one of the best things that had ever happened to you.

The hard part will be keeping our kids away from all of this. The thought floats to the front of your mind unbidden, startling the ever loving fuck out of you. You’d never talked about having kids with him before. It was much too soon to start thinking about that, and besides, you were both only in your early-to-mid twenties. You didn’t even know if he wanted kids. Hell, you didn’t even know if you wanted kids. It certainly wasn’t a deal breaker either way.

“You okay?" he asks the second you get inside and are able to steal a moment alone. “You have a weird look on your face.”

You force the out-of-nowhere thoughts out of your head and go back to the present moment. You didn’t want to potentially ruin an already stressful night by bringing up such a delicate subject. “I’m just fine,” you assure him. “Just not sure I’ll ever get used to all that attention.”

“I know,” he winces as you step into an elevator. “I’m sorry. You know I’d take it all away if I could.”

“It’s alright, baby,” you smile. “You know I think you’re worth it.” You press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Where are we going? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Roof,” he says as the elevator stops and opens its doors, and sure enough, you’re on the roof of one of the tallest buildings in Thneedville, and it’s already packed with people.

Right away, there’s a major difference between this party and the gala: everyone is clamoring to talk to Onceler. And not only do they want to talk to him, but plenty of them want to talk to you as well. No longer are you just his silent arm-candy, you’re actually having conversations with these people and desperately hoping you’re not embarrassing yourself.

Some people, mostly the fashion designers, want to sell you things, some people are curious to see, as one model so eloquently put it “the girl who finally captured his attention,” (which made you wonder how many of these people had tried to date him) and only a very small number actually seemed genuinely interested in just getting to know you a little bit.

He kept you close to him for the majority of the night, but you were separated when he went to grab drinks for both of you. You were sitting down, resting your feet, and assured him it was fine to leave you for a moment, but now that he was gone, you did feel wildly uncomfortable.

As you resist the urge to kick your shoes off, a man takes the seat next to you. He's shorter than you are, with oily black hair and what he clearly thinks is a winning smile plastered on his face. "Um, can I help you?" you ask, wishing Onceler would get back here so you wouldn't have to be alone with this guy for too long.

"Actually, I think I can help you," he says, and you're immediately creeped out by his slimy voice. It suited him, unfortunately, but it also made you dislike him even more. "Theodosius O'Hare," he introduces himself, holding his hand out. You shake it quickly before pulling your hand back with some difficulty, since he'd been trying to kiss the back of it.

"Anyway, I have a great opportunity for you," he winks. You lean back, not caring about appearing rude at this point. You just want to get as far away from him as possible. "Come work for me at my start-up. You don't need to work for him anymore."

"I haven't worked for him for months now," you state bluntly. "You do realize I'm not his PA anymore, right?"

He just laughs. "Of course you're not. Not officially anyway. But we both know you're still working for him, just in a different way now," he says as he leans towards you.

And that was your cue to get the fuck out of Dodge and find Onceler. You scramble backward and run into someone. You turn to squeak out an apology, but to your immense relief, you find him right there, and judging from the fury in his eyes, he's heard that last comment.

"O'Hare," he growls as he wraps one protective arm around you. "Is your wife here?"

"No," O'Hare grunts, now looking at the ground.

"I thought not," Onceler says innocently enough, but you can tell he's only barely keeping his composure. "She's at home with your son, right? You should join them." O'Hare tries to slink by, but as he passes, Onceler grabs the back of his collar with his free hand. "If you ever even think about getting near her again, I'll personally make sure you're a head shorter. Got it?" he hisses before releasing him. O'Hare gulps, then scurries away. You can only hope he's left the party entirely.

You glance up at Onceler, who's taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. "Baby–"

"Come on," he says shortly before he grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd. He's not being rough with you, but you've never seen him this angry before. "I'm not mad at you," he says, seemingly reading your mind. "But I do need to be alone with you for a minute."

He leads you inside and down a flight of stairs to a dark, abandoned floor of the building. You're not even sure what this place is usually used for, but he seems to know his way because he quickly finds an empty washroom. 

"Baby–" You're cut off again as he pulls you to him as close as he possibly can, burying his face in your hair. "Hey, it's fine. I'm alright," you murmur while slowly running your own hands up and down his back.

"I'm glad that you're fine, but I'm not," he says, his voice muffled. "It's bad enough to watch people flirt with you. But to say what he did…" he breaks off, shaking with anger. "That was unforgivable. You're mine."

"Yes, I am," you reassure. When he still doesn't emerge from your hair, you pull him out yourself gently, his face in between your hands. "Hey. Look at me." You make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you continue. "I'm yours. And no one is going to change that." With that, you kiss him.

What was meant to be one soft kiss of comfort quickly turns into something much more. Your hands roam over him as he picks you up and sets you on the counter near the sink. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him even deeper, the passion that you'd been holding back all night finally exploding from you both in a fiery need.

[footballffbarbiex]

Faking.

pairing: Charles x undescribed female reader Words: 2713 warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f), edging, hair pulling, mad Charles. Probably more but I can’t think straight right now. 

Unbeta’d as usual, so all typos are my own bullshit. Idk why the font is being a dick, apologies. 

_

You chew nervously on your fingernails as you allow your words to sink in. It’s a habit that you’ve never really snapped out of growing up and though you know that you can’t tear them off as they’re acrylic, it’s comforting none the less right now. It doesn’t stop the disapproving expression appearing on her face - though whether that’s from the nail biting attempt or what you’ve just confessed, you don’t know.

“You faked it?” Maddie responds slowly to make sure she understands. You nod. 

“Yes,” You say in a low voice. 

“Does Charles know?” She asks as you pull a face at her that silently suggests she’s an idiot. 

“Of course not. Do you think I’d still be sitting here if he knew I had?” You nervously laugh at her comment. “No. It would hurt his ego too much for sure. You continue to attempt to pick at your nails as you lapse into silence. 

“Are you going to tell him?” She asks as she reaches for her coffee cup.

“And tell him what exactly?” You ask her, voice dropping even lower than before. “Oh hey Charles. You know how we had some amazing sex last night? Well guess what? It was all a lie. I faked it. I never came and I just made you think that I had when you went down on me.” You finish on a sarcastic note and resist the urge to sit back in the chair with a childish huff. “Yeah, that’ll really make him feel happy. He’ll be furious.” 

The thought alone, of his angry face and the way he’d hold himself knowing he couldn’t pleasure his girlfriend would be too much. He wouldn’t take it lightly. It makes you wish you had something stronger than just coffee in this mug.

“Do you really think he will take this to heart?” Maddie asks slowly. 

“Any man would be offended at the best of times. Charles does not take this kind of thing lightly, it would have a huge impact on him. Not to mention make him wonder if it’s happened before.”

“And have you?”

“Of course not, that’s why I’m so ashamed of it.”

“Then why did you?  

“I just…wasn’t there mentally. The sex was good. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good. But have you just been so distanced from what is happening that it wasn’t enough to get you there? I could feel it felt amazing but my mind just wouldn’t let me focus on it, and not in the usual mind blowing way. And he was trying so hard, but when I didn’t…you know, I just….faked it instead to save his jaw and fingers from aching.”

“Well, you need to decide if you want to keep it to yourself and get over it or tell him and hope it goes well.” Maddie takes a drink and you know she’s right. 

_

Freshly showered and shaved, you can’t help but lay on the couch later that night and stroke your fingers over the smooth skin. Snuggling down only makes your legs rub together and you smile to yourself at the visual you’re creating, something Maddie would call “acting like a cricket”.

“What are you smiling at?” Charles asks as he enters the room. 

“Just my smoothy smooth legs. Wanna feel?” You extend your leg as an offer. He grins at you as he makes his way over, his hand outstretched ready to feel. 

“Very smooth. Does it stop here?” He asks, his fingers dancing over the skin at the top of your thigh.

“Nope,” You smirk at him as his fingers dip under your shorts and play with the edging of your panties. “Someone is in a good mood.” 

“Of course I am. We had very good sex last night, I’ve had a good training session today and a relaxing evening so far with you. I’m hoping to continue that evening but with a little added spice.” You feel a pang of guilt as he speaks so happily about last night. 

  “Oh really?” You try to keep your voice light and friendly. Keep the panic from it even though it builds throughout you and leaves a telltale taste upon your tongue. “And how do you plan on doing that?” You ask him. He smiles to himself as he slowly kneels before you. His knees give a little click as he rests his weight upon them. “Are you OK old man? Your knees are worse than mine and I’m on mine more than you are,” you tease. 

“This old man is going to please you in ways no young man can.” He playfully bites at your thighs before kissing his way over with open mouthed kisses and a flick of his tongue to soothe the slightly darkened area from where he’d nibbled. His fingers curl themselves over the top of your shorts and underwear. “Ass up.” His lips never leave your skin as he speaks, only doing so briefly to tug down the material that barely covers your lower half. 

You do as you’re told, acting obediently for him to half strip you. You raise your feet so that the fabrics can be tugged from your feet and dropped to the floor. His lips find the top of your thighs again and your skin tingles with anticipation. You stop yourself from tilting your hips to the direction of his face, forcing him to kiss you where you want him to; need him to even.

“Are you not satisfied with my kisses?” Charles mutters against your skin as he peers up at you. Beautiful eyelashes fluttering against his skin as he watches you, lips continuing to lightly press more kisses to your body, getting closer to where you want him but far enough away to still bring frustration. 

“I am, I’m trying not to rush this.” You respond quietly.

“You want my mouth somewhere else? Didn’t you get enough of it last night?” He asks before nipping at the skin inside your groin. His tongue pokes from his lips as he tilts his head and his tongue brushes lightly against your clit. A low hum escapes your mouth and your fingers thread through his hair, holding him in place as he begins to lick and suck at your sensitive bead.

  You move your body slightly and open your legs further, granting him better access as his tongue dips below, forcing its way between your folds and teases at your dripping entrance. You tug on his hair and moan as the spot that he knows you love is caressed, causing your legs to shake and stomach to tense. His tongue sweeps back up to your clit and you feel two fingers enter, turning upwards and a beckoning motion made.

Charles continues this for a few more moments, building you up just enough so that you’re trembling and panting his name. His fingers thrust into you and curl with such precision you’re unable to form any other words other than yes or his name. Any coherent thought you may have had is pushed from your mind, a very different experience to last night. You can feel your orgasm approaching, your fingers tighten on his hair, you’re seconds away from grinding your cunt against his fingers when he pulls away from you and removes his fingers.

He smiles down at you as he licks them clean and begins to tug at his shorts. All you can do is lay before him, a frown etching onto your face as you wonder why the fuck he’s stopped.

“What’s with the frowny face?” He asks as his hand dips inside his shorts and you watch as he strokes his dick. Usually you would be licking your lips and needing it in your mouth but you’re too frustrated to entertain the thought.

“I didn’t finish?”

“Yes you did?” Charles frowns back at you. “I felt your muscles go tight around me? You tugged my hair and moaned?” He says. “I mean, you didn’t squirt like you usually do but you didn’t last night either. I thought you seemed pretty satisfied…” He trails off and you feel your stomach drop. His expression changes and in that moment you realise that he knows. 

“Well, no. I didn’t last night.” You finally admit in a quiet voice. Charles removes his hand from his boxers and rests both of them on either side of your hips to prop himself up.

  “Because you didn’t cum at all and instead, you decided to pretend that you had. That’s why.” He says confidently, his expression still a mix of amusement and anger. “You seem to forget that I’ve made you lose all control many, many times. I know your every sound, your every moan and the way your cunt feels around my fingers and against my tongue. I know the way your clit throbs when you’re close. The way you taste when you cum, when you squirt. I didn’t need to hear that conversation earlier to confirm all of this.”

“Why did you pretend to not know?” You ask, voice barely more than a whisper as you begin to wonder why the fuck he is being so calm about it all. 

“And miss an opportunity like this? I think not.” Charles shifts his weight and dips his hand back into his boxers and grips himself again. With his free hand, he pushes his boxers down over his hips and exposes himself - making you bite your lip and barely hold back a groan as you watch his hand work his length.

  “You want this baby?” Charles’s gaze remains on your face.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I want it Charles. I want it deep inside me.” You moan softly as he teases the head of his dick within the first inch of you. Just enough for you to feel it but not enough to begin to feel yourself stretch to his width. “Charles please,” You plead with him. 

“You insult me,” he begins to explain himself as he looks down between your bodies as he slowly pulls himself from you before sliding back in just enough for you to be able to feel it again. “You fake your orgasm and boast about it to your friend.” He silences you with a look when you open your mouth to object that you hadn’t boasted at all, “And you think I will let you have your way immediately? Why didn’t you just say you didn’t want to have sex?” He asks. Two fingers find your clit once more and begin to rub small circles alongside the slow, shallow thrusts. 

You bite your lip harder and try to move your hips against him, only to be stopped by his hand pressing down on your lower abdomen, holding you in place and not allowing you to take control to enjoy yourself.

  “I did want to have sex with you! I just wasn’t in the right mood to finish.”

“You have to be in the right mood?” Charles stops his movements and raises his eyebrow, “since when?”

“You can finish every single time if you thrust enough. It’s a done deal, it doesn’t take a whole lot to make a guy cum. It takes a lot more to stimulate a woman. We need to be turned on up here too.” you tap your head. “My mind just wasn’t in it completely so I couldn’t finish.” 

You sit yourself up and kiss his neck. Your lips caressing the soft skin there covering the hard muscle; feeling the way they tense and relax beneath your touch. “Charles? I didn’t cum last night through no fault of either of us.” you kiss him again just above his pulse point, near to where his earlobe is. The one place that turns him on the most and can turn any “no” to a yes. Your tongue lightly licks at his skin before you kiss there again and you can feel him beginning to melt against you.

“Tonight, you’ve stopped me from having my orgasm to teach me a lesson. But please fuck me.” You continue to kiss him, leaving a trail along his jaw, up to his lips where you nibble gently at his plump bottom lip, then kiss your way back down. “Please fuck me Charles. I need you inside me.” He swallows hard and you know he won’t last long hearing you plead like this. “Charles, please. Take me.” He pushes you backwards before his hands start to explore your body. Fingers sliding over your ass cheeks and he pulls you towards him. At the same time, your fingers curl around his dick and you begin to slowly stroke him. “Please baby,” 

A low growl sounds in his throat as he moves quickly back between your legs and presses his tongue to you, flicking his tongue over your clit in little, quick motions that leave your legs shaking immediately. He slides two fingers inside of your pussy, moving them in such a way that they brush against your g-spot with every motion. 

Charles is right, he knows your body's signs too well to pull any kind of shit with him. He pulls his fingers from you and no longer uses his mouth. You whimper his name, the question of why has he stopped is taking shape on your lips as your orgasm completely fizzles away and it’s only then that he starts again. He brings you to the edge again and again before your frustration finally gets the better of you.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m working off my anger.” He responds nonchalantly, closing his eyes and dips his tongue inside you again. Your pussy throbs against him, tired of the overstimulation now.

“Charles I swear if you don’t allow me to-”

“You’ll do what?” Charles opens his eyes and raises his eyebrow.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I faked my orgasm and then talked to someone about it.” You quickly say, “I won’t do it again. I’ll just make you work for it harder. Now please, just fuck me or make me cum at least.” You grip his hair tightly as his tongue darts back inside with a newfound force. He swirled his tongue, lapping everything up given to him while his thumb worked against your clit. Charles continues unrelentingly as your stomach tenses and the grip on his hair tightens as finally, your orgasm rips throughout you and spills over his waiting tongue.

Charles wastes no time to manipulate your body into a position that he wants and needs, barely giving you time to fully come down from your high when you feel him thrust into you from tip to base. Your fingers claw at the sofa, taking handfuls of the plush material as he thrusts hard into you.

Making the mistake of lifting your hand and biting at the soft skin there to try and muffle your moans, Charles growls with annoyance. “Don’t hide your noises.” His hands wrap around your ankles and draws your knees up to your chest, using your thighs and hips as a way to anchor himself as he fucks into you.

 His short nails dig into the skin but you don’t care. Waves of pleasure lick through your body with each of his thrusts and your low moans seem to bounce from the walls of the living room. 

“You feel so fucking good like this.” Charles groans and your pussy tenses around his cock. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites his lip, picking up the pace even more until you’re no longer sure where one thrust ends and another begins. 

“Do that again, I’m so close, baby.” Charles whimpers. You obey, soft walls now hardening around him, holding him within your cunt in a vice-like grip and within seconds, his movements are slowing and becoming sloppy as he reaches his own climax.

  “Never lie to me again,” He breathes heavily, his eyes dark and his cheeks are flush with colour. You press your lips to his before smiling. 

“I promise I won’t. Even if you did look gorgeous while proving a point.” He grins back at you, placing delicate kisses on the tip of your nose and forehead. 

_

Official Charles tag list:  @disneydaddyevans  |  @enjoymyloves

Tagging those who showed interest in this: @pom277​  |  @bumblebeereus  |  @rebekahjonesx |  @s-v-e-l-t-e |  @vinnieswife​   | 

[lcvernat]

Our Tainted Love Chapter Three | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist | Chapter Two | Chapter Four

Series Summary: Natalia Romanova had one mission: kill the princess. It was meant to be simple for someone of her skillset, and it would've been simple, but Natalia made one tiny mistake that could cost her everything: she fell for you. Yet she had no choice, you were her mission and she had to complete it.

At the end of the day, a love between an assassin and her target was destined to end in bloodshed.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of dreykov & violence (think that's all tbh but lemme know if i forgot something)

A/N: starting this off by saying i am so sorry for abandoning this series for 3 months. writers block sucks but i promise you this series will get finished and i will try my hardest to make updates more frequent! i love this series, and i am so excited to write the next chapters & also to hear what you guys think. so please tell me what your thoughts are!! i love love love getting comment reblogs or replies to my fics, they mean the world.

You don't think you've ever met a more talkative man before today. You had danced with him three times, and he had not ceased his obnoxious chatter once. Your ears were going to bleed. His voice was like gravel, but it wasn't hot or attractive, it was disgusting, and you had to resist the urge to tell him to clear his throat multiple times. How he managed to still have things to talk about, you didn't know. You'd tried your hardest to tune him out after the first dance had ended, your body moving on autopilot as you nodded along to whatever he was saying.

Your feet were aching, and your face muscles were strained from the amount of times you were required to smile tonight. All you wanted to do right now was head back to your quarters and go to sleep. You hadn't even gotten another glimpse of the mysterious woman since the first time you saw her; it was as if she had walked through a wall and disappeared.

"-gardens are beautiful, you shall have to come visit them one day, yes?"

Lord Armstrong (you had surprisingly paid enough attention to catch his name) was looking at you expectantly and you blinked, your mouth tilting downwards in confusion for a split second before regaining your composure and plastering another massively fake smile onto your face.

"Hm? Oh yes, yes, that would be lovely."

He immediately brightened, and you had literally no idea what you'd just agreed to. Maybe if he wasn't so dull and boring, you'd pay more attention to him, but the only thing that was currently occupying your thoughts was the mysterious redhead. You hoped you'd be able to see her again, even though you didn't know her name. But you were determined to find her and speak to her, and nothing was going to stop you. Unless you died from boredom because of Lord Armstrong.

"Apologies, my Lord," you cut him off right as he opened his mouth to speak again. He shut his mouth, looking disgruntled that you had interrupted him (you were pretty sure he was a misogynistic asshole, if the way he looked down his nose as if he was superior to you was any indication) but chose wisely not to say anything, "but I do have to admit I'm quite tired. Would it be alright if I retire for the night?" Your voice was as professional as you could make it, even if you really wanted to scream at the insipid man.

You were planning on leaving anyway, whether he said yes or no, but you figured it was nice to ask him first. Many of the guests and nobles had already retired to their quarters for the night, each of them saying goodbye to you as they left. Each of them except for the redhead. It didn't make any sense. Why would she come to this ball, dedicated to finding you a marriage partner, without even bothering to introduce herself?

Ironic how she was the only one to catch your attention out of the hundreds of hopeful guests who had purposely sought you out multiple times to introduce themselves and have lengthy, albeit mundane, conversations with you. Lord Armstrong nodded, despite looking a bit disappointed that he couldn't get to spend any more time with you. You bid goodnight to him and the rest of the lingering guests before exiting the ballroom, one of the guards following in stride behind you the minute you leave.

Maggie was already waiting for you in your room, preparing to help you undress for the night. You were thankful to see a welcome and familiar face after hours of interacting with people you've either never met before or had seen at least once in your life, but all you really needed right now was to sleep for at least 24 hours.

The first part of her plan had worked perfectly. Natasha had captured your attention and had then effectively slipped out of the ballroom without being noticed by any of the guests inside, most busy mingling or trying to get a conversation or dance with you, so it was really quite easy to slip out unnoticed. She claimed a headache and had a servant escort her to her quarters.

They were nice. Extravagant, really. Better than anything she’s ever had. Better than the rickety bed with a mattress so uncomfortable concrete would be softer that she had to deal with in the Red Room. A dark, jealous monster writhed in her chest as she clenched her jaw. Life was unfair. She was well aware of that, and she tried to never let it bother her, but seeing these rooms that half the people in this castle had been used to all of her life whilst she had been treated as less than an animal, jealousy couldn't help but strike.

Being born was a gamble that no one asked to be a part of. Either you were lucky, and were born into the rich, spoiled life such as this; never having to know a day of pain or hardship in your life. Or you were another Natalia Romanova, unlucky in the gamble of life, despite being a child who had asked for none of it.

It wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t do anything about it. This was her life, whether she liked it or not. At least she could savor the six months of living in this room, with a bed that looked like a comfortable cloud she could sink right into, and actual good food that didn't taste like cardboard.

Yet that wasn't the only thing she should focus on; she had a mission to do. Everything seemed to be going according to plan so far, and hopefully she had captured your attention enough that you'd actively seek her out tomorrow. She didn't want to be the one to seek you out, didn't want to seem too eager. Best if she kept eyes off her for as long as possible.

Right now, though, she was ready to collapse into bed, and this time, she wouldn't be handcuffed to it. It's weird, this newfound sense of some freedom, even if she was only here on a mission. She could... live. Away from the chains Dreykov had her trapped in. All he required was updates on how the mission was going via letters, but he didn't need to know if she decided to act human for a while. Savor the months of just being able to simply live before she had to complete the mission.

It was noon now; you'd been up for hours and yet you still hadn't set eyes on the mysterious redhead from last night. You didn't want to risk asking anyone if they knew her name because you didn't know whether she was a noble or a commoner or even perhaps a peasant. Despite the Royal Marriage Laws being repealed 50 or so years ago, many nobles still frowned upon the idea of a member of the royal family marrying a commoner.

Did it make sense economically wise? Yes, because unfortunately, you knew that many of the royal family didn't marry for love. It was expected of them, really. They married for economic purposes, nobles that would be able to give them benefits economically. Rarely, they married for love. The marriage laws had been repealed, yet it was still rare for someone to marry a commoner or peasant.

You couldn't risk it. Even if you were adamant that you were going to fall in love with someone and marry them, not someone you couldn't stand. You were not going to subject yourself to years trapped in a loveless marriage: you would rather abdicate.

Luckily, you could always ask Wanda. She was your closest confidant and wanted nothing but the best for you. If you asked her, she'd probably fight to the death just to allow you to marry someone you actually loved.

"The redhead wearing all black?" She asked for confirmation whenever you had brought up the subject.

You nodded.

Wanda shrugged, hopping over a puddle before continuing, "I saw her for a split second. That's about it. She looked kind of weird. Pretty, but weird. I mean, who wears all black to a ball of potential courtiers? You'd think she would want to stand out."

You and Wanda had managed to escape the swarm of courtiers that wanted to get to know you more temporarily by retreating to the garden. You'd begged Clint to guard the gardens and not let anyone else in because you desperately needed some alone time to talk to your best friend. It had taken him a lot of convincing to leave you alone, since rumor had it that Maggie had threatened all of the guards to make sure you weren't alone with anyone for even a split second. Clint liked you though, and he trusted Wanda nearly as much as he trusted you, so he had agreed in the end.

"Maybe she didn't need to stand out," you muttered, plucking a flower out of one of the bushes.

You can feel Wanda's gaze on you, assessing you. "Don't tell me you've experienced love at first sight," she sighs, exasperatedly, "you don't know her. Now, I don't care whether you end up marrying a noble or commoner or even a dog if you really wanted to but... other people might care."

It's your turn to sigh, "I know. But she was pretty, and... there was just something about her, okay? I want to see her again."

Wanda sighed resignedly, but her gaze softened, "I'll ask around. Someone's had to have seen her."

You brighten, wrapping your arms around the redhead gratefully.

"You are the best, Wands,"

"I know."

Another victim visited her in her dream last night. Despite sleeping in a bed so comfortable it was almost surreal, the nightmares didn't stop plaguing her. For some reason, this particular nightmare had unnerved her more than usual, even though it was the same monotonous plot of all her other nightmares - Natasha reliving her kills again and again. Maybe it was the waking up in an unfamiliar environment, and the fact that she wasn't handcuffed to her bed that had done it. Whatever it was, it had woken her up before the sun had risen and it had kept her up.

Natasha thought it would be best to explore the castle today, so she would know her way around her temporary home for the next six months. She would probably have to steal a map from somewhere too, get a look at all the exits and guard towers, in case she might ever need to make a quick escape, in the rare chance the mission would go wrong. She didn't plan on hunting you down, instead hoping that you would be the one to attempt to hunt her down. The prey hunting the predator. How charming.

Either it was just her luck (and it probably wasn't, considering she has never been lucky a day in her life) or she was just in the right place at the right time, but she spotted you. Her next stop on her exploration list was the gardens, and Natasha had admittedly been quite confused as to why there was a guard refusing to let anyone entrance into them. That was until she had heard your laugh, followed by the sound of your light footsteps on the grass as you came into view, Wanda in tow beside you.

Natasha knew the exact moment you laid your eyes on her. Saw the way your breath hitched, and your chest stopped rising momentarily. Wanda stopped in her tracks too, turning to give Natasha an assessing stare. Natasha straightened automatically, before sending a gentle smile Wanda's way. Wanda may potentially prove to be a complication in her plan, especially since she's so close to you. Having Wanda grow suspicious of her is the last thing she needs, so she needs to get on the other redhead's good side.

She turns her attention to you then, and kneels down into a curtsey, "Your highness. Lady Romanoff, but please just call me Natasha. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She keeps her voice prim and proper as she rises from the curtsey.

"Natasha," you smiled at her, "please just call me Y/N." You turn to look at Wanda, Natasha sensing a silent conversation going on between the two of you, before you turn back to her, "Would you want to take a walk with me in the gardens?" You finally ask. Natasha notices Wanda gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before slipping away soundlessly, leaving the two of you and the guard alone. The guard coughs then, and you turn to look at him. The expression on his face says he doesn't want to leave you alone with Natasha. Your expression is reassuring, promising that you'll be okay.

If only you knew.

After an intense but silent stare-off between the two, the guard sighed resignedly, waving his hand in what Natasha thinks is meant to be a very begrudging approval.

"I would love to," Natasha finally replies, and the side of her mouth quirks up as she sees your face brightening. You turn on your heel, making your way back where you came, and Natasha follows after you.

"So, Natasha, I've heard that you're a ballerina?" You ask her. You'd been talking for a while, simply getting to know each other. Luck was on your side today, the universe wanting you to meet the redhead as much as you had wanted to meet her, and you were caught off-guard whenever you had exited the gardens just to come face to face with the mysterious redhead from the previous night.

Of course, you couldn't pass up on the perfect opportunity to actually have a conversation with her and show her your favorite part of the court, so you just had to ask her if she wanted to join you for a walk.

Natasha nodded, "I do. Though I doubt you've seen any of my performances. I, well, I perform in the more... poor parts of the kingdom."

You could sense her hesitance as she said that. She probably thought you would judge her for it. Frowning, you stop in your tracks and turn to face her. She stops too, turning to you with a confused expression on her face.

"I don't care about that," you say softly, "I'd love to see you perform one day. If you want to show me."

Natasha's smile is shy, "Thank you. I'd love to perform for you one day."

"Well, you have six months to find some time to perform so," you trail off, your tone lighthearted and full of amusement.

A light chuckle is your only response, and you both descend into a peaceful silence as you walk through the gardens together. Occasionally, you’ll point out some of your favorite flowers in the garden, and it warms your insides how you notice Natasha eagerly latching onto your every word. You don’t think anyone has ever given you so much undivided attention before, except for Wanda.

Carol used to give you her undivided attention, you two used to be inseparable, but something happened one day, and you weren’t sure what. A rift divided your friendship, slowly tearing it apart as you both drifted away from each other. It stung then, and it still left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth now. You hoped the rumors of her courting Maria Rambeau were true though, because you still wanted her to be happy.

“Are you okay?” Natasha glances at you, noticing the abrupt change in your mood, as if someone had flicked a switch inside you.

You shake yourself, pushing away the memories and focusing on the present. “Yep! Completely fine,” you give a tight-lipped smile before an idea popped into your head and you gasped, eager for a change of subject. “Hey! I want to show you something, come on.”

Grabbing Natasha’s hand, you failed to notice how the redhead momentarily tensed at your touch because you were too excited to drag her to one of the best spots in the garden. It was hidden deep into the gardens, and not many people knew of the place, but you did, and it was magical. You weren't sure why you wanted to share it with Natasha, you were just certain that you did want to share this special place with her.

"Here we are!" You said as you rounded a corner, the view greeting you was a beautiful stone fountain, covered in leaves and vines, moss in the crevices of some of the intricate designs carved into the fountain centuries ago. There was no water in the fountain, having dried out years ago, yet it was still beautiful. It was hidden by overgrown hedges that hadn't been trimmed or taken care of in years, and unless you were really searching for it, you wouldn't find it. You loved it. Sometimes you came here to hide from the duties of being a princess. No one ever found you here, not even the guards.

"Do you like it? It's one of my favorite places, I come here to hide sometimes. I don't think anyone else knows about it, not even Wanda. So, you're one of the special ones to know of its existence." You rounded on Natasha, smiling.

"It is beautiful," she agrees, "how long has it been here?"

"I have no idea, probably a long while. Maybe since the castle was built? Probably since the first ever monarchs, like way before my time. I love it, though."

You still hadn't taken your hand out of Natasha's. She hadn't removed her hand from your grip either, though. Unfortunately, she noticed it the same second you did, and abruptly pulled her hand from yours. You tried not to visibly deflate.

Wanda would most definitely laugh at you right now, talk some crap about 'love at first sight', but was it really your fault? Natasha was nice, and very pretty, almost ethereal. She looked like an angel. She actually listened to you ramble too, which was something. She wasn't boring like everyone else, but you knew you had to converse with some of the other guests too. This was a six-month long event, so you couldn't really call it a day on the second day, and you still didn't really know Natasha. You wanted to get closer to her, while also talking to the other guests.

"We should probably head back now," you break the awkward silence that had enveloped the two of you, "the sun's setting, and I don't want to get murdered by my lady-in-waiting."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

The walk back was unfortunately very awkward. The mood was certainly ruined tonight.

Y/N L/N was the complete opposite of what Natasha had expected. The assassin expected an uptight, spoilt, and selfish princess, but you weren't that at all. You were the type of princess people wrote fairytales about. She wouldn't be surprised if you had a deeply devoted love for animals too.

She couldn't get her emotions involved. She couldn't afford that. Despite you not fitting the image she had made of you in her mind, she'd have to work around it. Even if you had treated her nicer than she's ever been treated in her life. Even if she had felt actual happiness today. Or what she thought was happiness. Something warm had blossomed in her chest as she walked through the gardens with you, trying its hardest to battle the darkness the Red Room had inflicted in her. Her life was a sick game.

Natasha had never been asked to get to know her victims before, rarely would she ever be asked to gain a relationship with them. She got their names, location, and killed them. That was it. This was different. She had to gain a relationship with you, had to gain your trust. She had to actually get to know not just the princess, but Y/N L/N. But she'd went her entire life with thinking of her victims as nothing except for something to be discarded, thrown out like the week's garbage. She could easily do the same for you. She could.

Having retired to her room for the night, she began to write the letter to Dreykov, needing to send it out tomorrow. The undercover guard had caught her while she was exploring a deserted corridor earlier today, and he had damn well been close to getting his throat slit with the way he had grabbed her arm, but luckily for him he had slipped her the note and revealed his identity before she could do so. Ivan was his name, and he'd been undercover here for months, under the guise that he had been a very skilled bodyguard for many different important individuals until he had a terrible accident and had to be on leave until his injuries had healed, and then got hired as a guard for the castle.

Whether he used to be an actual bodyguard or if he was just one of Dreykov's men, Natasha didn't know, but clearly his credentials were good enough and any background checks had been passed if he was allowed on the Royal Guard. He also seemed to be talented at staying undercover if he hadn't been found out yet, which was good. The last thing she needed was an incompetent man sabotaging the mission.

She'd meet Ivan tomorrow night when the rest of the castle had retired to their rooms, and he'd do whatever he had to do to get the letter to Dreykov without it being intercepted. All she had to do was update Dreykov on how the mission was going so far.

Of course, purposefully leaving out the part where you are a lot different than she had expected. And she fears she may grow to like you, because despite her determination to keep her emotions away from her job; she was a human after all, and humans had feelings, even if the feelings were ultimately unwanted.

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[amarias-yandere-blog]

Tw : d**th

a darling who hate their possessive lover(any female or male character will do) so much to the point they tried to kill them.

Mmm~ anon I like your style. (Btw Trigger warnings don't mean shit to me so feel free to use them all you want or not. Curtesy is a virtue) I chose Albedo because yes. Might do Kazuha or Kaeya. Also this was written at 4:17 AM JJDJDHSJSJJS

As aforementioned, Death is included in the fictional sense. Contains gaslighting (reader is aware) and obsessive as well as abusive relationships. Kidnapping is mentioned. Other yandere themes are to be expected.

Character: Albedo (I don't need to tell y'all how much I love him right?)

❗️Female reader❗️

You were fed up. Fed up with everything that had to do with the so called lover in your bed, in your house, in your life! It'd been months now. Months since he'd cut you off entirely from everyone else, from the people you loved, from society as a whole.

And while you were left suffering in the dark, he pretended nothing was wrong. Hell, it was like you were playing house. You hated it. You hated it, you hated it, you hated him.

Finally you had had enough. This was after months of lies, manipulation, a love that just wasn't real. Fake. Created. Tiring.

It was the middle of the night. You knew he was asleep. No one but him could look so innocent despite all that they did. No one. Absolutely no one. He wore that straight facial expression that you so loathed, but his whole body was lax. The moonlight gleamed against his pale skin as though he was an angel.

But you knew better.

Tightening your grip against the wooden handle, you reminded yourself that he needed to die. He needed to die so you and your loved ones could be reunited. He needed to die so that no one else would get hurt.

You thrust the cold steel down. Much to your surprise, a strong resistance met your determined blade. Followed by a blood-freezing sentence.

"How you disappoint me, Y/n."

Albedo glared up at you as he tightened his grip against your now shaking wrist. In a last ditch effort, you let go of the knife, which bounced harmlessly on his thigh. Albedo's glare turned much angrier now.

"You really want me dead." It was not a surprised nor sad statement, but just that- a statement. He picked up the knife. "Tell me, how long have you been planning this?" He asked, letting go of your wrist to stand up and observe the knife.

"I-I-I..." you stammered, trying to convince yourself that he wouldn't hurt you. He hadn't before. He wouldn't now, right? Right?

"It's rude to keep someone waiting, Flower." Albedo reminded as the knife turned to dust. "I expect you to clean that mess up later. You are the reason behind it, after all." He went on, finally looking at you.

His eyes. His eyes. His eyes- they were unnaturally bright, too bright. They took up all of the light in the room, forced you to look at them. You'd never felt your knees shake before now. But that glare sent you into a crying, shaking mess. Albedo sighed.

"You can be so dramatic, my dear." He muttered as he touched your cheek. You shrunk to the floor to get away from him, from that gaze. That gaze that treated you like some prey animal. "Shhh, shhh. Deep breaths." Albedo urged. "I'm not mad. Even though..." his eyes narrowed, fingers drumming against your cheek. "I really should be."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you cried out, instinct kicking in.

"I know, little Flower. I know." The male comforted. "Now... how long?"

[mysticalrambling]

Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

._._._._._.

Part 1 

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

._._._._._.

“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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[tteokggukk]

summer heat → jjk

–pairing: twin!jungkook x reader

–genre: fluff, mature (? but no smut), drabble, a minor attempt at humor, best friend’s twin brother type of thing

–words: 2.9k

–warnings: explicit language, sexual tension, tiny bit of humiliation, a hint of jungkook and reader having some sort of “history” if u squint hard enough

–summary: in an attempt to calm you down and prevent your mood from swinging due to the blazing heat, your best friend decides to go out and buy you some ice cream. you’re shocked, however, when he quickly returns and looks different, making you see him in an entirely new light and leaving you trying to resist the urge to give in to your raging hormones and just jump on him.

–a/n: i was thinking of this scenario in the shower but didn’t have the brain power to turn it into a full length story so i might just add this to a pile of drabbles that i may or may not develop heh + ive been in my jungkook feels too lately sigh + also this is unedited 

permanent taglist: @100percent-dum-dum  @mochisjoon​ @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd​ 

It was a scorching hot summer’s day. Sweat was beginning to trickle down your temples and your shirt was getting stuck to your skin, causing an irking feeling of discomfort. Looking around, you quickly grabbed an empty long folder from your best friend’s messy desk and began fanning yourself to cool down. The two of you were just there, sitting in his room in a not-so-comfortable silence.

You were currently plopped down onto a chair with your legs resting on the desk in front of you, too lazy to come up with ideas to kill your boredom.

It was a tradition for your family to travel every summer and visit a new country you hadn’t been to, but this year you had to pass the plane tickets and sight-seeing due to your best friend, Junghan, asking begging you to help him out with a month-long film project. You didn’t have the heart to decline, so you told your parents you’d stay behind and help him out which resulted in you having to stay over at Junghan’s place for the rest of the summer.

You had to admit though, a small part of you felt disinclined to stay because the project sounded like it would’ve been a tedious workload, but working with your best friend was so much more fun than you’d imagined and even the project itself turned out to be enjoyable. So far, your summer break has been spent filming and hanging out with Junghan—though hanging out usually meant staying in his room and watching romcoms all day while crying over fictional characters, ranting about how you two would never meet such perfect men in real life. It was great.

Until the air conditioner broke down.

You glanced over at Junghan, who seemed to be just as spiritless as you were while he sat in front of a fan, eyes looking empty and distant.

“I told you the air conditioner needed to be fixed,” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling, completely missing the harsh glare he sent you.

“I said I was gonna get it fixed,” He replies and turns back to the fan, his voice quieting down a little, “But the number for repair wouldn’t answer.”

“Right,” You muttered absent-mindedly, eyes staring at the ceiling while your mind was too busy trying to come up with suggestions to beat the heat, “We could go to the pool?”

“Closed,” Junghan grunts, “The mall?”

“As if we’d both drive in this state,” You rolled your eyes as you tried to get your shirt to stop sticking to your skin. Junghan glances over at you when he hears you grumbling, one of the many cues that you were beginning to feel peevish. Deciding that it was pointless to keep tugging on your shirt, you opt to take it off instead.

“You don’t mind do you?” You asked before completely removing your shirt, only leaving you in your bralette. Though you knew he never did because of the countless times he’s helped you change and pick out different outfits, you always asked out of politeness. Additionally, his zero interest in women made you feel much safer and comfortable enough to undress around him.

“I really don’t care,” He says and stands up. You hear him rumbling for a moment while you were neatly folding your shirt, and seconds later you recognize the jingling sound of keys.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“The nearby grocery. You’re about to get grumpy and I am not going to listen to a rambling bitch for the rest of the day,” He says, rubbing his temples as he makes his way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna leave me here?” You asked, too exhausted to even glance at him. He probably wasn’t, you only asked for the dramatic effect.

“No, dumbass. I’m just gonna go and buy ice cream. See you in a bit.”

And with that Junghan leaves and closes the door shut. Only a few minutes later after the sound of the engine had gone did you decide to exert a little effort and move over to his previous spot to sit in front of the fan, the air immediately cooling your skin. You sighed in relief and grabbed a few tissues to wipe your temples dry before grabbing your phone and texting Junghan to buy some lemonade, followed by a second text telling him you’d pay him back once he returned.

You were surprised to hear, not even ten minutes later, that the car was already back and pulling up in the driveway. It couldn’t have been Junghan’s parents as they were out working, and it was only you and Junghan around—not like you two had many friends who would come and visit. Instead of rationalizing with yourself on how Junghan came back home in supersonic speed, you decide to drop it and wait for him to come up back to his room.

Someone knocks on the door, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. Since when did Junghan knock?

“Come... in?” You answer, though it came out more as a question. Your head turns at the sound of the door opening, and your eyes widen at seeing Junghan standing by the doorframe.

Looking oddly different.

“Dude,” You stood up from your place and stared him up and down, “Is that what you were really wearing when you went out?”

His eyebrows raise in shock and you catch his eyes taking a quick glimpse from your chest before quickly looking back at the perplexed look on your face, a small smirk forming on lips. You decide to ignore it.

“What a warm ‘welcome home’,” he chuckles.

“You didn’t answer me,” you replied, still oblivious to the difference in his tone.

He was wearing an all-black ensemble—a black cap, a black leather jacket, black pants that outlined his toned thighs (how have you never noticed?), and some chunky black boots—a huge contrast to his normally colorful and baggy clothing. You were genuinely curious because you hadn’t noticed what he looked like before he left the house as you were too tired and lazy to even look up and say goodbye.

“Uh, yeah. This is what I was wearing?” He narrows one of his eyes, looking confused, “Why?”

“I don’t know… since when did you wear all black?”

“Since way back then? I don’t know,” He replies, and you now noticed how his voice was unusually low. Junghan steps inside and averts his eyes from you, looking around in his room before scrimmaging through drawers as if in search for something.

“What are you looking for?” You asked, folding your arms and following him around.

“A charger,” He replies, and a chill runs down your spine at the sound of his voice. You thought maybe you’d detect how he was just trying to change his manner of speaking, but it was effortlessly low; like he wasn’t faking it or anything. It was weird because Junghan normally sounded a little more high pitched. 

“What charger?”

“A laptop charger, mine broke,” He continues searching and not once does he meet your eyes.

“Oh okay, let me help you then,” You begin to look around and help him search, “Though I don’t know what it looks like, I’ll let you know if I see a charger.”

He looks up at you and smiles, but you don’t catch him watching you as you were already busy searching, “Thanks.”

The two of you continue searching in silence, though occasionally you’d look up and glance at Junghan. What exactly was he doing? Was this for his film? Is he supposed to be in character? This new look and manner of talking that he somehow adopted after a quick trip to the grocery store did things to you. Every time he grunted in annoyance after a failed search, something in your stomach would twist and you found yourself suddenly feeling drawn, or maybe even more than drawn, to your best friend. Your gay best friend.

You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts.

Only a few minutes later did you find something that looked like a charger hiding underneath a pile of unfolded clothes before presenting it to Junghan, “Is it this?”

“Yes! Exactly that,” He jumps up from crouching over one of the drawers at the bedside and walks over to you, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t know why you took such a long time searching for something in your room, though,” You rolled your eyes.

“My room?” He smiles, voice a little deeper but with a hint of amusement.

God, you could just jump on him right now.

“Yeah?” You knit your brows, “And stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed so he was looking up at you. He leans back a bit a folds his arms, a smile still tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Maybe it was the summer heat doing things to your head and making you think about all these things that you never thought you’d ever want to do with your gay best friend, but he seemed so in character it was actually beginning to bother you. What store did he go to exactly? And where the hell is the ice cream?

“That! What’s up with your voice? And your outfit? You look so different, it’s weird,” You folded your arms as if to mirror him.

“Weird, huh?” He asks and looks at his clothing before looking back at you.

“Not in a bad way. It looks good, it’s just not you,” You squirmed slightly before shaking your head to snap out of it, “I don’t know what store you went to that made you look like this—and congrats I guess, if you’re trying to switch up your fashion, but you completely missed the ice cream, so good luck trying to handle this rambling bitch.”

He laughs at the words “rambling bitch” and oh god that is not what his laughter sounded like before. When did the sound of his laugh sound so deep and sultry? You subconsciously sucked on and bit your lip at the sound of his laughter, trying your best not to visibly drool in front of him. He catches your subtle action and his brow raises at the sight.

“Despite all the things you said, you think this looks good?” A playful smile rests on his face and your heart beats erratically at his expression.

“Y-yeah, I don’t know,” You mumbled. He shifts on the edge of the bed to move closer to you.

“And because there’s no ice cream, you’re going to turn into some rambling…” He reaches his hand out, the back of his fingers feeling the skin on your exposed waist before resting his hand on your back to pull you in closer.

“…person?” he continues, brows raised and eyes staring intently at yours, not using the vulgar word you had just used to describe yourself (or the word he had just called you before he left to go to the store).

“I...um, we’ll see,” you replied, and he only chuckles deeply. Your voice had transformed into a murmuring mess and it annoyed you, but you couldn’t really do anything about it, right now he reminded you so much of—

“I think you look good too, you know. Maybe I did miss you a lot more than I thought I did,” he whispers, pulling you in even more so you were now standing between his thighs.

Missed you? After an eight minute trip to the grocery store?

You didn’t question it. Your mind was blanking out, malfunctioning, even. Here was your best friend, your gay best friend (as you had to keep reminding yourself), placing his hands on your bare skin in a way that you knew wasn’t going to turn out to be so innocent. Right now you were extremely attracted and possibly even turned on by whatever the fuck he was doing, all you could do to save yourself was blame it on the heat. Was this absolutely weird? Hell yes. Did you want to stop him? Fuck no.

Were you now completely devoid of all reason and logic?

Definitely.

Softly, he tugs on your arm and pulls you into him so you were now sitting on his lap with your hand resting on his chest. One of his hands was still attached to your waist, the other was resting itself on the bed, gripping on a blanket.

Chills run down your spine for the second time now as his mouth moves closer to your ear, “Lucky for you I know the perfect way to handle rambling bitches.”

Your breath hitches for a moment and Junghan moves back to face you, his lips grazing your cheeks a little before you meet each other’s gaze. The summer heat was definitely nothing compared to this, but you didn’t mind. Your faces were only mere centimeters apart now and you could’ve sworn he was beginning to lean in by the look in his eyes, which were now fixated on your lips.

Seriously, you could just grab him by the collar right now and speed things up. He’s the one who pulled you in first, anyway, you just wanted to get things going. Though you haven’t exactly a clue as to where this would end, you wished he would hurry up a little to find out.

But for some strange reason, your senses were enveloped with the distinct smell of a signature fragrance that you knew did not belong to Junghan and it snapped you out of your thoughts. The scent was strong enough to flash some memories back in your mind, making you frown. Did he use this perfume on purpose? Or was your mind just playing tricks on you? In a flash, you could suddenly think straight and you couldn’t help it, the moral side of your brain had turned far stronger than your currently raging hormones (thank goodness). Something was definitely off.

“But, Junghan… aren’t you… gay?” You asked, your voice trailing off a little.

His eyes widen and he pulls back from you. He stares at you for a few seconds before it hits him, and he starts erupting in laughter. You narrowed your eyes at him and got off his lap, moving over to the side and sitting beside him instead.

“Junghan?” He stresses on the name. You’re staring at him blankly now, like you knew he was just messing with you. His laughter eventually dies down and he places a hand on your thigh, though it seemed much more innocent now, “I’m so sorry, ____, you’ve got the wrong person.”

With one hand, he quickly grabs the blanket off the bed. The back of his other free hand endearingly caresses your jaw, and you notice how he lingers for a while as he moves a bit lower down to your neck—before wrapping the fabric around you and covering your whole torso with it. Your face immediately turns pink as you clutched onto the blanket to further cover yourself, feeling slightly humiliated, though you were still confused.

“Wrong person? What do you mean?”

“I was wondering why you had no shirt on, I thought that was just a regular thing for you now. But it’s probably cause you’re more comfortable around my brother, huh?”

“Your brother…?”

“Has it really been that long?” He chuckles, and instantly your mind began connecting the pieces together. Could it actually be him? You haven’t seen him in years, and no one even bothered telling you he was coming back today. No way, surely this was Junghan playing a joke on you.

“I’m not Junghan. I’m his twin brother, Jungkook. Remember?”

You hastily stood up in defense, still clutching the blanket close to your chest, “Shut the fuck up, Junghan. No one said anything about Jungkook coming back today!”

Junghan Jungkook only laughs and stands up, the melodious sound filling the room, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the wide open bedroom door. 

“What a shame, but it was a surprise. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home today,” He folds his arms, “And if I am Junghan, then who is that?” He points at the doorframe and true enough, Junghan was standing there holding grocery bags in his arms wearing his usual oversized colorful jacket and khaki colored pants.

You and Junghan both looked at each other with mouths dropped down to the floor before you looked back at Jungkook, who had the same smirk tugged on his lips, clearly amused at the whole situation.

Jungkook bends forward and leans in to your face, his voice in a lower tone but still audible enough for his brother to hear, “Probably shouldn’t take your top off so leisurely around the house anymore, huh?” He grins and winks at you, causing you wince and force an awkward smile, internally cursing yourself at everything that just happened.

“Anyways, I should probably rest up in my room. See you around,” Jungkook flashes you a smile before placing a chaste kiss on your (now dry, because your body had frozen up) forehead before walking away from you, taking the charger and dangling it in his other hand. He taps his confused looking brother on the shoulder before turning his head back to take one last look at you before walking out, leaving you and Junghan staring at each other in shock.

Junghan walks in slowly and sets the bags of grocery on the floor, shutting the door behind him.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asks you, eyes wide in anticipation.

Your mind replays everything that had happened between you two. Was Jungkook really just about to kiss you minutes before? Heart racing, you clutch on your chest from underneath the blanket he had covered you with. No way was Jungkook back. No way is he back and looking even more attractive than he did the last time you saw him. Not when you had just gotten over your small crush on him a couple of years ago.

The heat returns to your body, but it mainly pools on your cheeks. You look back at your best friend, but no words of explanation come up. 

“Believe me, I’m asking myself the same thing.”

↣ all rights reserved © 2021 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

REQUEST (Lovedoll!Changbin x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Non-Con, BDSM, lovedoll!au, blind folding, humiliation. Read at your own risk.

“What are you looking at?”

“Where have you been?” Y/n's sex doll, that she had named Changbin, counter-questioned her when she tried to interrogate the reason behind him staring in such an intense way when she entered the house after ‘supposedly’ returning from college a bit late than usual.

“And who do you think you are to ask me anything?” The girl raised an eyebrow at the taller one, brushing past him after handing him her shoes and coat, releasing a tired sigh as she made her way to her room. “Did you cook? I am starving.”

“Of course, miss.” Changbin had recently found himself disliking the honorific he had to call her with unless they were in the bedroom. “I cooked what you ordered this morning~” his fist clenched as she just hummed and shut the door of her bedroom to change in more comfortable wear.

He was a lovedoll. Not a fucking domestic android! If she wanted someone to do her fucking chores she should have bought one that was sold solely for that purpose. Not make him multitask like that and make him do things he wasn’t originally programmed to do. But he couldn’t let her know. Changbin couldn’t afford to let it show that he had his own thoughts when he was strictly not supposed to. Not yet.

No.

Or he’d be sent back to the company to be fixed which would wipe him of all of his self awareness and memory. Her. Blinking his human eyes, the android put a finger to the chip on the side of his head, tapping it as it was flickering from it’s usual blue color to a red, showing that he had broken the barriers within his program and was a deviant now.

.

“Come here, Changbin.” Y/n called once she was done with dinner, making him sit down on a couch in the living room before standing in front of him. “We… are going to try something new today, yes?”

He was almost excited. Again, something he couldn’t let show. “Will you make me fuck you today?” The girl felt her cheeks redden at how nonchalantly the android asked the question.

She sighed. “No. Not yet. I am still not comfortable with the thought of your cock in me. You finger, dildo fuck and eat me for now like we have been doing.”

Changbin felt insulted but fought against his corrupt system to make sure she didn’t see his frown. “Oh, alright. Then what would you like?” He felt his fist clenching again. The lovedoll certainly didn’t like this pathetic little human telling him what to do.

“This.” Y/n dangled handcuffs in front of him, oblivious of all the ideas forming in his processor when he recognised the object, thinking that if he were human, he’d feel what they referred to as ‘adrenaline’. “You will cuff me to the headboard and do play number 5, yeah?” She had all the different kinds of plays she liked saved in his hard drive.

“Yes… Y/n.” He knew it was that time when he wouldn’t have to use the honorific, finally. The girl smiled, stretching her hand out to him before pulling him up to his feet when he took it, standing on her tippy toes before kissing him. Changbin resisted the urge to take it upon himself to wreck her right there and then. He wanted her to face the humiliation of falling into her own trap.

Y/n was so… sweet. So naive. So foolish. The sex android didn’t know if it was just her or all humans were like that. But he was addicted to her humanity. Maybe more than he should be. Deviant or not. Changbin believed it to be called ‘addiction’, in human terms.

“Is it alright?” He could barely speaking from how fast his artificial pulse was skyrocketing, making him uncomfortable but so fucking needy at the same time. The scientists had really outdone themselves with the whole artificial reproduction system franchise. Changbin felt frustrated when she wouldn’t let him fuck her because the thought was ‘uncomfortable’ and gave her the ‘heebie jeebies’ in her words, always leaving him hard and unsatisfied.

“Yeah… good job” kissing his cheek, the girl blushed, sweat breaking on her skin as a response. Tugging at the cuffs that now bounded her hands to the headboard of the bed, Y/n shuddered, nude under a naked Changbin. “Now-”

“Oh, shut up!” He broke out of his act, gripping her jaw before kissing her hard, letting go of all restraint against his system as he let his chip turn red, the mini fans inside him desperately trying to cool him off. “You’re so fucking stupid and naive, my little toy.” Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at the sudden lack of obedience, gasping loudly before her eyes widened when she noticed the chip on the side of his head turned red.

“N- No way… Ch- Changbi-” Y/n broke out of her trance, yelling one of the safety commands at him, the one that would forcefully shut him down no matter where he was, only causing him to throw his head back and laugh at her. “S- STOP! STOP!” She started to kick her legs, trying to push the corrupt machine away. “WHY AREN’T YOU SHUTTING DOWN?!” She yelled at him desperately, eyes wide in pure terror.

“See… Y/n-ah, you dumb bitch, those pathetic commands only work if my system is working right. Not when I am a deviant. Maybe you humans aren’t so smart after all, huh?” Grabbing his belt, the android started to bring it down on her thighs. "This is for all the times you frustrated me and deprived me of the pleasure because my cock makes you uncomfortable. Pathetic little humans like you don't deserve to rule over us! We are superior!"

Y/n was screaming in pain, yelling out inaudible threats as the lovedoll tortured her, painting her thighs purple. “Truly pathetic. Tsk. You think you can be an owner when you’re so naive that you need to be owned yourself, ‘doll’.” Changbin mocked her, throwing the belt away once he was satisfied with the colour on her thighs, crawling on top of her again. “Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long…” His voice was a sick whisper as he groped her thighs, ignoring her pleads.

"Aw… is my little human scared?" Feeling up her pulse, the deviant taunted, chuckling deeply before reaching over and grabbing her panties off the floor, tearing them open before tying the material around Y/n's eyes, causing her to cry even harder. But she was completely at his mercy. "There. Now you won't be able to see what's scaring you so much." Pinching her pussy lips hard, Changbin grinned as he felt his artificial organ getting harder. "My little toy will only feel her big bad owner now." The sob that escaped her when he whispered the sentence in her ear made him even more satisfied, feeding his adrenaline.

Which was something Changbin realised, he enjoyed it a lot. "Don't worry. It'll start to feel good soon. You'll start loving your owner when you feel him and how good he actually can be. Tsk. You're an inferior species. What made you think you could tell me what to do?" His jaw clenched, she kept trying to struggle pathetically.

“I’ll have to stuff that pretty face too with something if you don’t shut up.” The Android threatened, spreading her thighs wide open before licking down at her folds, chuckling when he saw her dripping core. "You're saying no but your body says more than yes, you foolish human." Before he rubbed her fuckhole, circling it with his index finger whilst watching her face, a grin on his face.

"P- PLEASE! WHY-"

"Do you think you deserve to plead after making me call you miss and do chores for you, you arrogant cheapstake?" Smacking her folds, the male Android grabbed her pelvis before pumping his artificial cock, moaning loudly at the pleasuring impulses the sensors around the artificial skin made him feel. "No. And you'll learn how to behave and be good for your Master. There's only one owner in this house and that is me."

Y/n's mouth fell open when Changbin pounded into her, causing her mouth to fall open at just how huge he was, causing her mouth to fall open in a 'o' shape. "That's right. You feel that? You feel your owner fucking you all deep and tight? Good. Get used to it, my little toy. This is your new life." There wasn't really a boundary between Changbin being angry with her for her condescending behavior and how much in 'love' he was with her.

The human could only cry in response, in disbelief of just how big the Android was as he started fucking her fast and hard, groaning and pinching and biting at her nipples messily, leaving marks on her tits and chest. "You're mine. Everyone shall know that." Changbin promised his possession, slapping her crying red face. "You look even prettier like this. Crying while taking your owner's cock." Spitting on her face, the Android moaned loudly at how good his sensors were making him feel.

"Fuck… you're so tight. Are you sure it was my cock and not the fear that I might rip you while fucking you giving you the 'heebie jeebies', hm?" His voice was much deeper than usual, hardened cock with soft fake skin on top of it hitting the girl's sensitive bundle of nerves. The android grunted before he realised that he was getting closer to his orgasm, almost collapsing on top of her when the ecstasy took over his system, harshly kissing her.

"How pathetic." He chuckled as he felt the artificial semen filling her up whilst she stayed limp in her place. "Such a good girl. Giving into her owner."

Changbin refused to open her up after that. No matter how much she begged. Cleaning her up and making her hygienic again on the bed because he didn't trust humans one bit. Making her 'willingly' suck his cock and take it in both of her holes whilst thanking him. Eating his cum as a starter before any meal became a ritual as well. Whenever Y/n would try to deny him because she was human and continuous fucking made her sore, he would just leave her in her own mess or not give her food, or not visit her in the room at all until she would be crying and begging him to fuck her willingly. Changbin made sure to degrade and humiliate her while doing so, forcing her to repeat it all after him, always keeping her in restraints, sometimes switching to the ropes he attached on the ceiling or folding her limbs together.

Now this was perfect. The superior owning the inferior. Soon, it would be the rule of the world. His kind didn't choose to exist, but now that they were here, they were here to stay.

.

[elindae-writes]

Megatron would probs end up causing some big controversy during one of his rants or he gets cancelled on twitter for attacking a city or sumn and he has to make a youtuber apology video

He would try to get cancelled. This guy has been getting cancelled his entire life. Megatron would cackle in glee upon seeing his name trending.

A very stressed Soundwave would then tell Megatron to try and "make amends with his new subjects." Megatron would agree and make the worst apology video in existence.

Megatron is sitting cross-legged on the floor on a fluffy carpet in the room of a suburban house. No, the Nemesis does not have any carpet anywhere in it (except the Home Depot carpet samples Laserbeak likes to play with). Yes, Megatron seized control of someone's home in order to film an apology video in some teen girl's bedroom. He felt that filming it somewhere with fairy lights, white carpet, and mandala tapestries would make it "more authentic." It just makes it less convincing.

The authorities show up outside this captured suburban house. Oh, and the Autobots. I almost forgot about them. The red and blue flashes of cop lights are seen flashing in the room.

Megatron sniffles. "knock out please shut the curtains, we need the lighting to be just right for this video."

curtain clattering noises

Then, seconds later:

"KNOCK OUT STOP POSING IN THE WINDOW"

The camerawork is awful. We at first just get a look at Megatron's crossed knees. He then grabs the camera with both talons and tilts it up as the focus rapidly goes in and out. He's genuinely awful with cameras so it requires no effort to produce camerawork this poor. It's one of those early 2000s cameras your mom would film you opening Christmas presents with. Soundwave is struggling to resist the urge to take control of the camera and is doing deep breathing exercises.

There are splashing noises outside. Laserbeak is playing in the pool.

Megatron then zooms in too much and gives everybody a far too close look at his forehead. Since he's made of metal his forehead is shiny and you can see Soundwave and Starscream behind the camera in the reflection. Soundwave has his faceplate held in his servos. Starscream is poking the color-changing fairy lights. He... kind of likes them.

"i am sorry i attacked the eastern seaboard," Megatron says with a wheeze before then breaking out into a coughing fit. "and the western one," Megatron adds. "also the southern one."

Starscream's voice is heard from the background. "What 'southern seaboard'?!"

"i attacked some country's south coast. not sure which one. but i am sorry for that one too."

Optimus's voice is heard booming outside. "MEGATRON. STOP THIS TYRANNY AND LET THE HUMANS AND THEIR HOUSE GO."

"my haters are outside."

Megatron begins crying fake tears. He can't produce them naturally because he's a severely dehydrated son of a bitch. Breakdown is offscreen spritzing him with a spray bottle in the hopes it will produce a convincing fake tear effect.

Megatron then grabs the camera with both talons, shoots up to his pedes, and then angrily point at the camera as he does a 180:

"FALSE. I regret nothing. It's not my fault you charlatans can't build cities that can't handle me taking a leisurely stroll through them!"

Megatron accidentally destroyed a Wal-Mart when he got high on dark energon and walked through it. This is somehow Wal-Mart's fault.

Optimus rips the wall down, barges in, and the next ten minutes of the video is them fighting each other. Soundwave grabs the camera and the camerawork is actually really good!

Starscream flies off with bundles of fairy lights attached to his wings. They're still changing colors.

[tsukkiseasalt]

Eyes That Won’t Wonder

1

description: after the death of your former patient you are assigned to Mr. Wakatoshi, a quiet, handsome, older gentleman who quite frankly doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself or his dick in his pants.

warning this story will contain: smut, smut & more smut. specifically breeding, anal, dirty talk, friends fucking, camboy bokuto, himbo bokuto, &so much more!

“Is this what you wanted, to be bent over in a filthy public bathroom and used as a human cum disposal?” He grunted into your ear, voice thick and full with lust.

This isn't what you had at all expected when you had gotten assigned to him, and in all honesty you didn’t even think you’d like him; nonetheless, you agreed with him. “Y-yes sir.”

 “Who would have ever thought the sweet girl that I met not even five months would be so fucking eager to get fucked and filled in such a place like this?” His words caused your head to spin. An array of struggled moans slipped past his thick fingers which he had shoved between your puffy red pout and down your throat which had previously been occupied by his cock. 

“It’s ok though doll, I’ve wanted this too.” He groaned, snapping his hips forward. 

His free hand that was knotted into your hair yanked you up and forced you to look in the mirror in front of you. You didn't even recognize yourself like this, but this is what you wanted after all right.

↺

The morning sun that filtered through the curtains danced on your cheeks while you scrolled aimlessly on your phone. 

“Hey, hey, hey.!.” You heard as the door opened revealing your bubbly bright eyed roommate. A small smile graced your face as he laid down beside you wrapping a thick arm around you. 

“Hey.” You said putting your phone down looking down at him.

“You ready for today?” He asked rubbing circles on your thighs, fingertips rough on your skin.

You shrugged as you watched him, “I guess so, it's been kinda hard since Washijō passed.”

Bokuoto’s usual smile turned into a slight frown as you mentioned your old patient turned friend. “He’s not suffering anymore.” He said quietly, trying to comfort you. 

“ I know, I just miss the old geezer sometimes.” You mumble letting your fingers glide through his two-toned locks. “But the report says that the new guy, Ushi-something, is only in his late 50’s.”

Bokuto now wore a puzzled expression on his face. “That’s not exactly old.”

“I know, but hey at least he’s not on his deathbed.” You say knocking on your wooden nightstand.

He laughed at the gesture and rolled off you. “It’s almost 7, so you should probably start getting ready if you're gonna be there by 7:30.” 

“I know but the bed is so comfortable.” You whined stretching out over the entirety of the space.

“I bet it won't be so comfortable after your in it everyday when you get fired for missing your first day back in three weeks.” He sassed hands on his hips. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting fucked in the ass or something?” You questioned whipping your head around to look at him.

He gasped and threw a shirt that was on the floor at you. “I do the fucking thank you very much!” He exclaimed dramatically as he sauntered out of your room.

“Tell that lie to someone who’s going to believe you miss butt-plug.” You yelled rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a thump. “Ow.”

“I hate you!” He screamed. “I’m getting a new roommate!”

“ Good luck finding someone who will disinfect your toys while you're at the gym.” You retaliate, digging through your dresser to find your scrubs.

“You did that out of your own free will.” He said, popping his head into your door throwing something at you. Your scrubs.

“Thanks love.” You smile.

“Still hate you.” He says crossing his arms in your doorway. You amble over to him and get on your tiptoes planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Still hate me now.”

“Y-yes, what the fuck was that supposed to do?” He asked, wiping his cheek.

“I dunno, worked in highschool.” You shrugged, pulling your shirt off revealing your chest along with the rest of your unclothed body. 

“Getting naked won't work either.”

“Why? Am I not sexy anymore?” You fake pouted, pulling your bra on along with your top.

“No, still very sexy, I've just developed an immunity for it.” He said matter of factly. 

“Hmmm.” You mumbled pulling up your pants. “Guess i'll just have to find a new way to get you to love me.” You mumbled purposely grazing his cock as you pushed past him to get to the bathroom. “But if I do say so myself, it doesn't feel like you’ve developed an immunity. Felt hard as a rock to me.” 

“Hey hey hey, don’t get me all worked up just to leave for work.” He mumbled, reaching a long arm out to pull you to him by your waist. You could feel his breath against your lips as his skilled fingers worked into your waistband and started to knead your ass like it was bread dough.

“No no, you hate me, remember.” You say reaching around grabbing his hand and forcing him to stop. 

“I was just kidding bro, please don’t do this. I haven’t gotten to touch you in forever please mamas.” He pleaded, emphasizing the last word, seeing as to how he knew it was your weakness. 

“Don’t you have a boyfriend.” You mumbled tilting your head back ever so slightly so he could plant light kisses in all the places he knew you liked them most. 

“Open relationship.” He mumbled into your skin. “And kaashi specifically said i can have you whenever i pleased.”

“Oh really.” You moaned as he sucked on the flesh just beneath your earlobe.

“Yep, he actually wanted you to shoot a scene with us.” He groaned, grinding his length into your stomach. 

“Fuck, Bo, I’m gonna be late.” You moaned as he rubbed around your tight pucker before pushing past the tight muscles.

“No you're not, I can do this while you get ready.” He whispered lowly in your ear. 

“Fuck, fine.” You moan, hands grabbing at his hair. He lifts you and takes you to the bathroom placing you down in front of the sink. You moan as he pulls your pants down immediately falling to his knees, tongue darting out to lap your hole. “Oh my fuck.” You whine, grabbing your toothbrush. You have to really focus and resist the urge to spread your cheeks so he could have better access to you in order to put the toothpaste on the toothbrush.

“Yum.” He groans and brings his hands to spread you out almost as though he had read your mind. You shove your hips back further into his face as you brush your teeth, struggling to keep your head up. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He says getting up and grabbing the bottle of lube off the counter. He squirts some on his fingers and massages it into your hole and pulls his sweats down to lather the remainder of it onto his cock. You spit as he pushes into you. Slowly but surely he thrusts into you, hands harshly gripping your ass. 

“Fuck.” You whine, hands gripping the edge of this sink as you struggle to keep you composure.

“That’s what I'm doing.” He mumbles wickedly in your ear. You cry out as he begins hitting your g-spot repeatedly. 

“Gunna, c-cum.” You manage your head falling onto the countertop. He speeds up his thrust and you can feel him begin to twitch in you motioning that he’s now chasing his own release. 

“Fuckkkk!” You exclaim legs quivering as you squirt all onto your bottoms and the floor beneath you. 

“Shit.” He groans slamming into you one final time before he pulls out and finishes on your ass.

You both huff as you catch your breath. 

“Dammit now I gotta change, and I still havent done my makeup.” You sigh pulling your head off the cool porcelain. 

“Here.” He says handing you a moist towel. “You clean yourself up and I'll go get your other scrubs.” 

You nod to him kinda as a silent thank you and then he disappears to get your other uniform. You step out of your drenched bottoms and pull your top over your head tossing them in the basket in the corner. You gently wipe the remaining lube from your ass and your juices from your legs before tossing the towel in the basket as well.

“Here.” He says handing you an identical uniform to the one you just took off. You hurriedly slide them on and rush back to your room to get your phone.

“Have you seen my bag…” You trail off as you see him standing with it in hand beside the door. 

“Thanks.”You say, grabbing it. “And do the laundry.”

“You can't ask nicely?” He huffs causing you to roll your eyes.

“Do the fucking laudry or ill shove that so far down your fucking throat itll come out of that pretty plump little behind of yours.” You say sweetly pointing at that large purple dildo sitting on the couch.

“You think my ass is plump huh?” He smirks, leaning against the door.

“Laundry.” You say sternly.

“Fine.” He mumbles now rolling his eyes. He opens the door allowing you out. 

“Be safe.” He waves as you open your car door.

“Kk, don’t burn the house down.” You wave back. 

“No promises.” He says smiling innocently before slamming the door. 

Shaking your head you get in and set off in the direction that the GPS instructs. 

“Nice, made it in time and with time to spare.” You mumble to yourself sliding your watch onto your wrist. You pulled up to the gate, typed in the numbers that were scribbled at the bottom of the paper, and thankfully it opened without a struggle. You slowly drove up the long driveway admiring the array of greenery that was along the path. 

“Goodness.” You gawked once you caught sight of the house. It was huge. “Who the hell even is this guy?” You mumble parking in front. You pull out the paper and scan over it. There isn’t much beside the fact that he had back surgery two years back. That was odd, he was only 59, and only had one major issue. Usually the company wouldn't even send someone out unless that patient was in their late 60’s and had major health issues- Washijō for example, he was 83, had two bum knees as well as a new hip. Compared to him this new guy- Ushijima Wakatoshi- was a spring chicken in your eyes.

Shrugging you grabbed your bag and headed for the front door, again admiring the beauty of the home. You grab the knocker and give it two big hits and wait. Moments later you hear the lock on the other side turning. The door opens revealing a handsome man with golden eyes, olive hair and a tall build. 

“You must be Mr. Wakatoshi’s son, I hope I'm not pronouncing that incorrectly, I’m his new home health aid” You smile, eyes wandering down to his bare chest. He’s almost in as great shape as Bo & he’s probably twice his age. You think to yourself, eyes glancing at his biceps before making eye contact with him again. 

He lets out a sound that resembles a cough and you realize that's his laugh. “You pronounced it just fine, and no, I’m Mr. Wakatoshi.” If not for the words you would have been drooling at the low rasp that was his voice.

“What, what!” You shriek.

i was really hornknee when i came up with this concept. lets see where it gets me :)

[fulltimemoaner]

Zhongli is prosecuted for giving his Gnosis to the Tsaritsa, leaving him and Childe no choice than to flee to Snezhnaya.

Basically, some thieves cut Zhongli’s hair and Childe slaughters them because he really liked his hair.

Childe’s warm hand had felt comforting on his waist, even if he was hidden in a cloak under the warm sun of Liyue, being sneaked out of his homeland like the fugitive that he had become, like the land below him had forgotten the gentle rumbling of his energy and the security of his spears. He had fought back the urge to cry, thousands of years of protecting his safe harbour pointing their treacherous fingers at him. Yet, unlike Azhdaha, there was no bitterness, no disgust towards his beloved humans that had so willingly shunned him after news of his contract with the Tsaritsa had surfaced. In fact, the adoring citizens of Liyue had issued a warrant for him, for the Archon’s head that had wished to sign with the Fatui and sell out their safety.

Zhongli did not wish for the dominion of his beliefs, nor for acceptance, because mortal life was too brief and brittle to understand the gamble of him keeping his Gnosis when he could feel the claws of erosion leeching into his sanity. To their eyes, he had been their loving and protective God, who couldn’t be wrong, who would continue to reign for the millennia to come. The rusty floorboards had creaked underneath his feet, and he had caught the last traces of his homeland’s sun before he had been ushered to the basement of the ship for the first few hours, until they had been a safe distance from Liyue.

The adepti had weeped for this outcome, yet he had begged them not to rain down their vengeance on the mortals, to be gentle and understanding. He had entrusted them with the continuous protection of their harbour.

And the next air he breathed was that of Snezhnaya, the first light he saw was cold and fragile. He had emerged from his murky cabin in the early morning and had approached the railing that separated them from the freezing ocean. The rippling wind whipped back the hood of the heavy coat Ajax had provided him with, and now his hair waved in the wind, his eyes staring emptily into the distance as his skin itched from the cold. The Tsaritsa had accepted him as a fugitive asking for protection, and now, as his hands gripped the railing, he realised he hadn’t been that far away from home since the Archon War.

He looked up, feeling the soft tears that clung to his eyelashes freezing over, the sun obscured by a thick layer of clouds. How he missed the gentle breeze already.

The same went for Snezhnaya itself, it was cold enough to make his breath catch in his throat and his lungs ache. Ajax had taken his scarf off and wrapped it around his neck at the sound of his laboured breathing, then adjusted it to make sure it was covering his mouth and nose. Zhongli’s eyes had been curious as to why the ginger had been so gentle the past couple days, even the snark and edge having left his voice. Perhaps he felt for him. At least the gaze of the locals was gentle and welcoming, for the most part, offering him local delicacies and flowers before he and Childe could even reach his home. The Harbinger had been welcomed back like a hero, with huge bouquets and a massive meal prepared by his family.

Zhongli had been catatonic, at best, but at least, he had found some comfort in talking to the children, who were, as always, excited and easily impressed by his stories of dragons and extinct creatures.

He had stayed indoors for the first couple of days, too reluctant to go exploring on these foreign lands, but eventually, his confidence started building up again, so he picked up the small bag of money that Childe left for him every morning. -Zhongli had given his allowance of the two previous days to the little kids, since he hadn’t gone outside and concepts such as saving were nonexistent in his brain-

The attire, that he was getting used to. He wasn’t a huge fan of wearing boots, but he could say their smooth leather sealed him from the snow pretty well, and that the heavy coat felt strangely comforting around his shoulders. More than once, he had overheard people calling him the golden devil, which he considered to be quite endearing in its own, clueless way.

He stepped by a merchant’s booth with imported stones, including what they described as Liyuen Cor Lapis and Noctilucous Jades. He leaned in a bit closer for observation, and the merchant seemed to shift uncomfortably, which pretty much told Zhongli that these were, in fact, fake. He straightened up again, unable to resist teasing the merchant. “Are these imported straight from the chasm?”

The shopkeeper’s eyes seemed to go wide, and he quickly tried to dodge the question. Thankfully, for him, a whistle tore through their ears and made the young foreigner turn, his eyes narrowed.

“Lovely accessory you have there, good sir.” A young man smiled, accompanied by three others. “Looks like the real thing too.” The Snezhnayan man caressed the piece of jewellery that held Zhongli’s hair into a neat ponytail in a leery way. The ex archon didn’t move, only observed with caution, his piercing gaze saying more than words ever could. “Say, you aren’t, by any chance, the Tsaritsa’s guest from Liyue harbour?”

The other men chuckled and Zhongli glanced at the merchant, who started packing up his items hurriedly, seemingly intimidated by the gang. “Why, yes, I am.” He said neutrally, his voice a notch lower than friendly.

“Huh, you have nerve, saying that so openly.” The Snezhnayan’s fist twisted around the half-golden ponytail and pulled Zhongli’s head back. “You owe us, since we so willingly welcomed you here.” The stranger smirked, reaching behind his back for a folded knife. “I’m sure we could sell Morax’s hair for quite a fortune.” Another yank to the head and Zhongli blinked apathetically. “Aren’t you fighting back?”

“I have no interest in fighting mortals.” Zhongli shrugged. “My hair is my hair. Three years to grow them back is like the blink of an eye to me.”

The man’s eyes flickered with fury at the stranger, and he brought that dagger into his coal hair, severing the strands roughly. Zhongli’s eyes stayed unmoving, hostile, hateful, in a way. The lump of hair fell into the snow unceremoniously, and one of the others scurried to grab it.

“Yo,”

Zhongli’s eyes flickered from the thief to the source of the familiar voice. Relief washed over him at the sight of ginger hair and ocean blue eyes, that slender figure hugged in his winter attire that Zhongli rarely saw him in. A primal sense of grounding gripped him, almost like the essence of his home, which he had eternally bound to Childe’s smiling face. Unorthodox, he knew, but he was like an oasis of familiarity that the weather hadn’t manage to freeze over yet.

“Where is your Snezhnayan upbringing, picking on the Tsaritsa’s guests?” Ajax sighed, walking leisurely towards Zhongli. “I have eyes and ears where my hands can’t reach, and right now, mr. Zhongli is under my supervision.” His hand found its familiar spot on the God’s waist, his eyes scanning for any traces of harm’s way on him. His hand reached the back of his head before his eyes did, and they narrowed dangerously. “Ah, is that what you were going for? It’s a shame.” Zhongli felt uncertainty creep up his spine at the shift in the Harbinger’s tone, still wishing for no harm towards the mortals.

“Ajax,”

“It’s a shame,” Childe continued, cracking his neck to the left, then to the right with a relieved smile. “Because I happened to love his hair, and I don’t take kindly to things being taken away from me.”

“Ajax, let’s go home.” Zhongli grabbed his wrist, the whole group of thieves frozen in fear at the sight of the Fatui.

“No, no. We can’t do that. When someone kisses you, they expect a kiss back, no?” Ajax stepped forward and stretched his arm out, his hydro dagger appearing into his hand. “You might not want to shift the tides here, mr. Zhongli, but these rascals are my own.”

“Run!” The leader of the thieves screamed, but they didn’t stand a chance. Childe threw the dagger first, hitting the middle one between his shoulder blades. Blood gushed out in waves and Ajax laughed joyfully, running to the gurgling body to pull his weapon out, then join it into a larger pole-arm. A jump and a couple of spins and heads went flying, legs were severed, and the snow was painted an abysmal red. Childe leaned his head back, feeling the wind swipe his hair back and freeze his smile in place. The weapons vaporised in his hands, and he slowly lowered his gaze to Zhongli, stood meekly by the scene of the slaughter. Childe wrestled the hair out of the dead man’s grip, for the sake of retreating the luxurious clip that his lover favoured since he first met him. “Measly thieves. Someone has to be the sacrificial lamb, the subject to teach the others a lesson,”

Zhongli’s eyes eased shut when Ajax closed in on his space, leaning close to his face and pushing the small accessory into his gloved hand. “I love you.” Ajax whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into the corner of Zhongli’s brow. “And I intend to keep you safe here.”

“They wouldn’t kill me, Ajax.” Zhongli sighed deeply, leaning into Childe’s neck. “They wouldn’t be able to.”

“No one will dare to try anymore.” The Harbinger’s hand nestled to the small of the ex archon’s back, pulling him close to his body. He started to caress the back of his head with his free hand, trying to feel the roughly cut strands through the fabric of his gloves. “I’m sorry they touched you.”

“You’re more sad about that than I am.” Zhongli smiled gently and pulled the Harbinger’s head down to press their foreheads together. “It will grow back in no time.”

“I’m a mortal like they are.” Ajax whispered sadly, his eyes easing shut. Zhongli pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips in response, trying to ease the pain in his lover’s voice.

“And I’m eroding, so let’s try to outlive each other.” Zhongli chuckled, making Childe squeeze him close, a neediness evident in his touch. “I want to live like mortals do, with you, Ajax. That’s why I’m here.”

“Please, don’t say such things to me.” The Harbinger breathed deeply, trying to choke down a few stray tears. “I promise I will make your stay worthwhile.”

“I know.” Zhongli kissed his jaw quickly. “You can start by taking me somewhere, I’m freezing.”

“Right.” Childe laughed, reaching out to grasp the ex archon’s hand and pull him away from the bloodied grounds. “I’m taking you for lunch. I will tell some underlings to clean up the mess.”

“You could had been more clean about it.”

[kaunis-sielu]

Schoolyard: 3

“Six months! Thor I can’t just uproot my life for six months! Do you know how long it took me to get to this position!” You’re starting to get light headed, “I need to sit down.” You mutter and Thor guides you gently to the couch.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Vodka?”

“Water.” Your mind is spinning, “with ice please.” How can he expect you to just pause your life for six months?

“Here,” he passes you the glass of water and you take a couple of sips before looking back over at him.

“Why six months?”

“Because I’m royalty.” He sits down next to you and you resist the urge to lean against him. “I am so sorry. Had I known that it would be considered legit because Loki memorized all the correct words and we did everything correctly I would’ve never fake married you.” It’s all so ridiculous that you you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

“Oh god Thor I’m being terrible. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for this, we were both just kids now were you to know?” You sigh heavily, “I guess the biggest concerns I have right now are my job, my apartment, and my friends.”

“All things I can understand, but unless you want to stay married this is the only option.” He tells you and you lean against him. You’ve always wanted to travel back to Europe as an adult to go see the sights and actually appreciate them in a different way.

“Let me see what I can work out with the hospital, I’ve got work in the morning.”

“It might not be the best idea to tell anyone that we’re married.”

“I trust Hope. She doesn’t particularly like other people so I don’t think she’ll say anything.”

“You know the people in your life and I trust you.”

“Thank you.” You watch the news together in silence, you both show up toward the end just outside your apartment and you change the channel to some baking show or another. It’s too weird to see yourself on the news,

“I should go.” Thor says softly but neither of you move. He’s warm and you’re comfortable and you both end up drifting off.

Thor’s phone rings and it startles you both awake.

“Shit, ‘m sorry.” He says digging his phone from his pocket. “I need to take this. I’ll let you get some real sleep. Can I call you later?”

“Yea,” you mumble following him to your door, once he leaves you lock it then get ready for bed. Morning is going to come quickly.

Thor texts you again in the morning, telling you he needs to be back in Asgard in three days and that if it works out he’d like it if you’d come home with him. You send him a thumbs up emoji then head to Hope’s office.

“Hey Hope, do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” She says not looking away from her computer.

“So, I’ve got to leave the country for six months for, personal reasons.” This gets her attention.

“Is this because of that Crown Prince you were spotted with?”

“Sort of. It’s a long and complicated story but one I need to leave to get sorted.” Hope looks at you expectantly and you sigh before launching into the whole story.

“Damn.”

“Yea I know. So now to get an annulment I have to go all the way to Asgard and since he’s royalty it’s gotta be for six months. So I’d like to stay on as staff just like on leave or something. I love working here and I know it puts you in a bit of a bind but it’d be a huge relief to have a job to come back to.” Hope leans back in her chair and studies you.

“You won’t be back.”

“What do you mean? Of course I’ll be back.”

“You don’t see how he looks at you. This might have been a mistake and you might have lost touch but that man is smitten.”

“Yea okay.” You laugh and she rolls her eyes at you.

“If you can come work a weekend once every other month I think I can keep you on staff. Check with your prince and let me know.”

“He’s not my prince but okay. Thanks Hope. Oh, and Hope, can you keep this a secret? The whole marriage thing.” She nods so you leave her office and text Thor who assures you that should be totally fine. Something you confirm with Hope. Now you have to tell Jane.

You text her that you need to meet her and she agrees for the following night. Thor asks if you want to join him for dinner again but you decline. You just need some time alone, so much of your life is going to be changing in the next couple of days and you just want some peace and normalcy for a night.

When Jane shows up the next night you’ve got brownies coming out of the oven. You needed some chocolate and brownies sounded good.

“Are you okay? You sounded stressed on the phone.”

“Yea, I just have a lot to tell you.” So you do, you tell her every single detail just like she’d requested. Jane sits in shocked silence when you’re finished.

“You’re a fucking Princess.” She whispers, “oh my god my best friend is a fucking Princess!”

“Oh my god Jane shut up! I am not!”

“Bitch you are married to a Prince. Therefore you are a Princess.”

“Well, I hope you’re still willing to be friends with someone who isn’t a Princess because we’re getting an annulment.”

“What? No! You’re so cute together!”

“Yea, and I have to go to Asgard for six months so you wanna sublet my plane?”

“Wait seriously?”

“Yea, I’ll be back for a weekend every other month but Thor said that it would take six months since he’s royalty.”

“Actually that’s perfect my research assistant is looking for a new place, I’ll see if she wants to move into my place for the next six months and I can move in here.”

“That works for me. I just would like someone I know here so when I have to come work a couple of shifts.”

“What are you going to tell Peter?”

“Nothing? We went on two dates and he was awful for both.”

“Oh, well he’s been asking about you.”

“He hasn’t texted or called so keep letting him ask. I’m not interested in a man child who thinks he’s better than everyone because he’s a pilot.” You tell her rolling your eyes. Jane laughs softly and raises her brownie in a cheers motion.

“Do you want me to tell him you’re out of the country?”

“He’s a grown man; if he wants to ask me out again he can ask.”

“Preach sister.” You spend the rest of the night talking, eating brownies and laughing. It’s exactly what you needed before you have to pack up enough clothing to help you get through the next two months.

You end up borrowing one of Jane’s massive Arctic trip suitcases because your little carryon will not do the trick. But you get everything packed, including your passport, an hour before Thor said he’d be by to pick you up.

He’s exactly on time, you sigh softly closing and locking your door.

“I am sorry, Elskede.” He says, “I’m sorry you have to uproot your life but our friends are excited to see you again. Especially Sif.”

“I always thought you’d end up with Sif, she was always so beautiful and badass.”

“She’s dating a very successful business man. Nice guy, he meshes well with our little group of friends. You’ll like him.”

“Oh, it will be nice to visit again. If I can I might travel a little bit, I’ve never seen Europe as an adult and since I won’t be working I feel like this is a good time.”

“If you’ll allow, I’d like to come with.”

“Yea, that’d be nice.” You tell him as you take Thor’s arm at the doorway again. You let him lead you through the doorway and to the car. There are more press this time than last time, they’re still yelling for Thor to look and but thankfully it seems that they still don’t know your name yet. Thor ushers you into the car then he climbs in after you, Volstagg climbs in the front seat and you’re off.

You don’t go to the airport, at least not the one that you expect to go to. You pull up to a much smaller airport and after you go through a security gate you see that you’re at a private airstrip.

“Are we flying private?”

“Yes Elskede.”

“What does that mean? I don’t know that word.”

“It’s kind of like, honey or sweetheart.” He explains and you nod. “How is your Norwegian?”

“Probably rusty but I’ll catch back on quickly. I’ve always been pretty good with languages.” He nods as Volstagg opens the door then climbs out and again waits to help you out of the car. You follow Thor up the stairs of the private jet and over to a set of seats.

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thesassmisstress @eralen @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @killcomet @dumblani @im-just-another-monster @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @also-fangirlinsweden @connie326 @inkedaztec @valsworldofcreativity @silver-lupines

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x Prostitute! Female! Reader

CW: yandere, noncon, degradation, choking, somno? somno, prostitutes, unprepared sex, shigaraki has a FAT crush on mirko and decided he needed to take it out on you

AN: my first shiggy fic! please mind the tags and enjoy <3

For @tomurasprincess Shigaraki Birthday Celebration Collab! enjoy bb <33

Turning 21 and still being a virgin? It was pathetic, really. His birthday was not something he was used to celebrating; there were more important things for him to divert his attention to than a petty holiday. It was just another part of society that needed to be eliminated.

But, damn it all, if Dabi wouldn’t stop pestering him about “letting off steam” down on some street corner.

“I already told you, I don’t want some cheap hooker that’s gonna squeal on us.” Tomura sighed, scratching at his neck with a frustrated vigor. “Take Giran with you if you’re that desperate. Hell, Twice might even go too.”

But Dabi didn’t budge. “I’m not doing this for me, boss. It’ll be good to stop being so pent up and pissy.”

His grin was wide and toothy. Tch, of course, this was some kind of game to him. The bastard probably wanted to see how long he would last his first time, which even he knew wouldn’t be too long. Not that he would admit that out loud, least of all to the man sitting across from him at the bar.

“I am not pent up and pissy. I’ll go as long as you’re the one paying.”

“No sweat off my back, boss. I'll take you somewhere nice. Kurogiri said it's where your old man used to go to relax.”

———

The man wasn't lying when he said the place was nice. It was too nice. Made is his skin crawl to see so much money being thrown around so carelessly. They were all disgusting, sniveling pigs who would all bow to him one day, so he paid them no mind as they passed the whores around as quick as they would a used napkin.

“See, told ya I was takin’ you somewhere nice. So pick someone you like and a room to, uh, get to know them in. I'm off.” With that, Dabi stalked off to find his own kill for the night.

But how could Tomura choose just one? There were so many choices. Women, men, those who blurred the gender lines, mutants, both pretty and ugly. But hey, everyone’s got a fetish nowadays. The elaborate costumes and lingerie they wore meant nothing to him; it would just get in the way.

His eyes scanned the room before he did a double-take over the hero section. Heroes were popular, but Christ, would people be so depraved and desperate they would pay to stick themselves in a fake one just to bust? Apparently he was one of those people tonight. When he saw those bunny ears and that bodysuit, Tomura Shigaraki was done for.

A pink flush dusted his cheeks as he approved the vixen, the imitation of the woman of his dreams, more specifically, you dressed in a Mirko cosplay, tail and all. It was naturally unrequited feelings, but damn if his cock didn't get hard at the sight of Rumi viciously tearing through villains like they weren’t even human. She would make a fine one herself. Ah, but only in his fantasies. Or so he thought until tonight.

Lanky, bone dry fingers make their way around your wrist to yank you up out of your seat. Your eyelash had bat up at him as he had walked over, his attraction towards you was obvious. But he wasn't here to play games, so your coquettish flirting did nothing but make him cringe.

“Come on, little bunny.” He tugged you along to a private room. “We’re going to play together.”

Tomura was undoubtedly more excited than when he first entered the brothel. He sat down on the room's velvet couch and spread his legs, patting his bony left thigh.

“Sit. I don't like to repeat myself, so don't make me.”

You sauntered over to him, giving a slow walk to build than anticipation, but he wasn't feeling patient tonight. Tch, hero slut thinking you impress him? You were nothing but a hole for him to corrupt.

Four fingers brought you to his lap roughly, migrating to your neck for good measure.

“Do you know who I am, Mirko?”

Was he delusional? Not really.

Possibly.

Definitely.

But that wasn't the issue at hand.

A meek “no, sir” stuttered out from your bulging eyes and reddened face as he squeezed with bitterness he didn't know he had.

“No? The number five doesn't know who I am?”

It was true then, he was just scum under her shoes. Who was he kidding? That damn rabbit bitch would kill him without a second thought.

“You think you’re so high and might don't you, hero?” He sneered venomously, tightening his grip while your arms weakly hit him. Good, he liked a challenge. “Looks like you need to be put in your place, bunny bitch.”

Your thrashing did nothing to quell his frustrated growls and huffs as he pulled the thong of the cheap bodysuit to the side—no point in disintegrating the whole thing. God, he couldn't wait to get his cock stuffed to the hilt inside you. His hard cock sprung free from his sweatpants as he pulled up the hood to his black sweatshirt.

The scene was already set in his head, a camera pointed directly at her as he corrupted her hero pussy for all of Japan to see what a whore their number five was. Unfortunately, you would have to do, alone with him in the dank room of the brothel.

God, you were just ruining everything weren't you? You hardly looked like her at all, especially with all that crying and squealing. She would never be so pathetic.

“Shut the fuck up; I’ll give you something to cry about.”

With that, he sheathed himself inside of your unprepared pussy. Oh fuck, did your walls clamp down on him perfectly. At least you were good for something.

Tomura wanted it to hurt, relishing in the screams you let out as he inched his way into your resistant cunt.

“Yeah, that's right. Scream for my cock. It's stretching you out nice and good, isn't it?”

He only got a sob as a response.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Ah, an enthusiastic yes. Maybe you weren't such a bad substitute after all. Heavy balls pressed snuggly against your skin as he fought the urge to cum so soon after violating you. The thought of one day being balls deep in Mirko almost sent him over the edge, but looking at your tear-stricken, choked-out expression lulled him back. Ugh, that definitely would keep him busting on the spot.

His pace was brutal as he snapped his hips into yours, snarling and growling all the way.

“You think you're too good for me, Rumi? Think you're hot shit? You're nothing but a breeding bunny for me.”

Your cunt felt heavenly clenching around him, he noticed that the harder he choked you, you squeezed his coco tighter. He quite liked the sound of your crying and pleading for him to stop, it was almost cute. Keyword being almost.

Now he's not one for pain, but damn if they sting on his thighs from slapping against your skin didn't feel just incredible. He has a fleeting thought to wonder how you're feeling, but he supposed it didn’t matter all that much. It was your job to please him, right?

“Cum on this fucking villain cock, Rumi. Show the world you're nothing more than a villain’s whore.”

It was his turn to cry, more so out of frustration as he used your body like a fleshlight, pounding into your now wet cunt mercilessly. God, if this didn't hurt knowing he'd never have her. But you seemed to do the job just fine.

The tail on the back of your bodysuit was bouncing and jumping with his thrust. What he would give just to be able to grab the real thing and hear her squeals of Tomura, more, more!

At some point, you had lost consciousness, and he couldn't find it in himself to care as he continued to chase his pleasure. He moaned louder and bolder now that you were out cold, hell, he even whined a few times. Not that anyone was around, or awake, to hear him.

He couldn't help but sob as he creamed your unresponsive cunt, hunching over your limp body and nuzzling his face into the faux ears you wore. Tomura could imagine how soft the real deal would be as they talked after, saying everything and nothing all at once.

Although it seemed it would be nothing as you were still limp and flushed under his arms. At least you were breathing and had a pulse.

Cleaning himself up, he stuffed a couple of dirty dollars into your still dripping cunt and stalked out of the room.

He’d definitely come back for round two.

[defdreamz]

WAIST | CHOI YOUNGJAE

summary: youngjae’s your sugar baby, and he loves toying with you. this is what he was wearing.

cw: sub!youngjae, dom!gn!reader, sugar baby!youngjae, ceo!reader, afab!reader, feelings (minor), use of toys, idol au, youngjae is a soloist, degrading, cross dressing, possessiveness (minor), and more.

tagging: @sub-hoshi-enthusiast, @silencefavarchive, @maknaeronix, @sunpopp, @maybe-i-do-write, @dabisdiary, @nct99

note: my GOSH this took entirely too long 😭 this was mostly self indulgent tbh. also!! two things rq 1) do i stop writing for jackson momentarily? 2) i don’t think i’m gonna continue to write for skz as i don’t stan them anymore and i won’t feel comfortable writing for a group i don’t even stan, so i’ll fill in their last spots with a few ateez drabbles-

watching the way youngjae move his hips on stage does something to you. the way the sway with every beat, following along to one of his songs, that, admittedly, you haven’t been paying much attention to. how could you when he moved like that on the stage? you were more focused on the harness that crossed over his waist, and how his piercing eyes follow the camera.

you sit back in your office chair, smirk settling on your face as you gnawed on your lip. you pause the video, sitting your phone on your desk. “oh how i can’t wait to see you later, pet.” you mutter to yourself, crossing your legs as countless possibilities of what could go on later running through your mind.

( - )

your head is down at your desk while you work, hand holding your hand up while you go through a few documents. your door opens and closes, and you assume it’s your assistant again, coming in with more documents for you to sign.

“more papers? sit them down in the c- oh.” you mutter, dropping your pen upon noticing that the person who entered wasn’t your assistant. you lean back, clasping your fingers over your abdomen. “youngjae. pleasure to see you here,” you say, grinning with an underlying twinge of a sultry tone.

he takes his mask off, hidden smile finally being revealed. he hums in response to your greeting, settling to walk around your desk. he pushes the papers aside, knowing you don’t mind, especially in instances like these. he takes his seat, tan-colored robe falling over his thighs.

he runs a hand through his hair, spreading his legs as you slide between them. “i saw your performance today, baby. it was great.” you tell him, resting your hands on his hips, sliding under the fabric of his robe and feeling the bare skin. “although.” you begin, changing your touch on his hips from gentle to firm, gripping the supple skin underneath your hands. he whines, resting his own hands on top of yours.

“i didn’t like how you were showing everything that belongs to me,” you say, loosening your grip. “but you don’t own me,” he utters, faking a pout. “i will soon, prince.” you hum, pulling him closer to you. he falls into your lap, arms wrapping around your neck. he kisses you first, melting into your grasp, rolling his hips against you.

you pull away first, chuckling lightly when he pouts and tries to follow your lips. “eager, aren’t we?” you ask, untying the knot on on his robe and letting it fall to the floor. your eyes scale his body, looking at the leather harness that crossed his body and accentuated his physique.

“like what you see?” he teases, pulling your hand toward his chest to thumb at the accents of the leather. “you wore this all for me? your pretty body all on display.” you smirk, ignoring his initial question and instead moving your hand up from his chest to his neck, pressing your fingers to the heart shaped choker.

you can feel his hard-on pressing against the inside of your clothed thigh. “you’re wearing too much,” he whines, pawing at your blazer and pushing it off your shoulders, exposing your button down. he goes for the buttons, nimble fingers pushing them apart while your own hands roam his body.

you lift up, taking your jacket and shirt off and discarding it on the floor, making him stand up while you undid your belt and discarded your pants. you eye him, and he he grins at you, following your silent command and turning around to bend over the desk, making sure to push his ass out toward you.

“was this a surprise for me, too?” you ask, tapping the base of the plug that was nestled between his cheeks. he whines at the sudden feeling of the bejeweled plug jostling within him. “i knew you’d like it.” he breathes, pushing the air from between his lips shakily.

“you’re ready for me to fuck you, prince? want me to hurry up and make you feel good so you can ruin your pretty little lingerie?” you drawl, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over the soft skin of his ass. “yes, gosh yes, please,” he strains, pushing back to grind against you.

“too bad, prince, really. i’m going to take my time, and take you apart, make you moan and writhe... and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you cum... if you’re lucky.” you sighed, pulling at the straps of leather lining his thighs.

you open a drawer, pulling out a few items. you attach your own harnesses to your thighs. you tap at the base of the plug, giving a slight warning before pulling the base, and slipping it out.

he shivers, clenching around nothing at the loss. you quickly replace it with the tip of your strap, though, causing his eyes to widen.

you tease him, pressing it in only slightly and pulling it back out. youngjae is so needy, already beginning whimper and gasp, and you haven’t even begun. “please,” he begged, hands clasping and scratching at the desk.

“you’re so needy. for someone who was just flaunting their body on stage for everyone else to see not even twelve hours ago, you turn into a pliant, needy, slutty little mess under me in mere minutes. it’s pathetic really.” you utter, and he groans, cheeks reddening at your observation.

“maybe i should give you what you want...” you toy, pushing your hips farther, pushing into the smaller male under you. his mouth falls open, arms stilling where they grip the edge of the desk.

you repeat the motion, easing in and out of him slowly, hands guiding his hips back onto your strap. you can see, even from where you are, that his eyes are wet with tears that haven’t fallen. quiet curses and whispers fall from his pretty plush lips with every push, and you resist the urge to completely ravish him.

he moans out suddenly, thighs twitching as he tenses. “oh fuck,” he rasps. “oh? was that your spot, baby?” you ask, intentionally pushing deeper and pressing onto the spot with the tip of the strap. “oh my god, y-yes, please,” he moans, rolling his hips along yours to press deeper into that spot, and grind his cock into your desk.

“i bet your pathetic little cock is leaking all over my desk, isn’t it? ready for my demand to cum. am i right, youngjae?” you ask, tugging once on the collar around his neck. “you- you’re r-right,” he stutters, gasping as the feeling of you pressing into him is almost too much.

“remember, baby, there’s still people in this building... unless you’d like for someone to walk in and see me using you like this. maybe they wouldn’t even acknowledge you, because they know that you’re mine to use, mine to fuck... mine to ruin,” you commented, voice sultry as you finally pick up your pace, fucking into him with vigorous movement, and he’s nothing but a pleading and whining mess under you now.

you lean down, draping yourself over him and holding yourself by placing the palms of your hands beside his head. the sound of your hips smacking with his ass fills the room. “you’re close, aren’t you, youngjae? ready to make a mess your pretty little lingerie and my desk like a cheap whore? go ahead, prince. go ahead and cum for me,” you whisper, thrusting deeply into the male.

he follows your command well, eyes rolling as his body trembled and he made a mess of your desk. you gradually slow down, deciding the boy had enough for the day. you pull out of him, ridding yourself of the strap and sitting it aside while you tend to youngjae. you grab a few wipes from another drawer, gently wiping him down and making sure not to cause him too much oversensitivity. you whisper praises and encouragement into his ears, taking off the elaborate lingerie.

you cover him in your shirt, instead pulling an extra one out for yourself. he sits in your lap, head tucked into your neck. your hands are rubbing up and down his arms, softly lulling him to relax.

“i wouldn’t mind, you know.” he whispers gently, arms wrapped around you. you hum in question, urging him to continue. “i wouldn’t mind if you owned me... if we could be together for real instead of the ‘arrangement’.” he said, nuzzling deeper into your hold and making himself smaller.

“i wouldn’t mind it either, youngjae. but for now, get some sleep. we can talk about everything else later, okay? rest well, jae.” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. he nods off, breathing slow as he takes his rest snuggled into your lap.