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#I've could have never meet my parents again
xetlynn · 2 days
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Twilight Imagines- Benjamin
First Sight
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[Masterlist]
Requested by: @twilightlover2007
Summary: in where the Cullens are getting multiple covens together to help them convince the Volturi that Renesmee is not a danger Benjamin spots [Name] and is immediately enamored by her. Even with her two year old daughter. Also finding out they have similar abilities.
I sit in the living room with Bella and Edward as we watch Renesmee play with Athaliah. I cross my arms, holding myself. "How do you feel?" Edward asks me suddenly and I turn to him. "Read my mind." I roll my eyes, he scoffs out a laugh. "I'm asking so you can let it out."
He responds, I look back to the girls. "Yeah, we haven't talked much since you found out about her." Bella chimes into the conversation. I frown for a second.
"It's a weird situation, I don't really know how I feel." I tell them in all honesty. One second Renesmee was a newborn and seconds later she was months old and now she's physically 4 years old.
"I just wish we didn't have to deal with the Volturi. Once again." I hold my head in my hands. Last time we dealt with them was when I turned into a vampire, Athatliah was only 16 months old. They were worried that I would turn Athaliah.
We had to convince them I wouldn't go near her until I had control over my thirst and she wouldn't know anything about us until she was the age of turning or if anything I would fake my death and she'd never see us again. It's something I don't even want to consider. It's something I have 16 years until I have to truly think about. The Volturi believed us when Aro looked into Edward's mind along with mine. Also with the fact that my ability was strong, I would put up a fight. They didn't need any of their men dead.
"I wish that woman just talked to us before running straight to the Volturi. She's also going to get killed." I lift my head back up. Renesmee takes Athaliah over to us and they both smile. I pick up my daughter, placing her on my lap. Edward doing the same with his daughter.
"All right, lovely, it's time for a nap." I stand up. "I'll meet you guys outside." I tell my two best friends before walking upstairs. They have a crib that was originally for Renesmee in Edward's old room. I place Athaliah down. I could tell she was tired so when she started crying I knew it was only for a few minutes.
The first year of her life I cried almost every time she cried. I couldn't handle it. My mom was a huge help since Athaliah's dad left in the beginning of my pregnancy. His parents moved to a whole different state so he didn't have to be a father to our baby. I grieved the relationship in the beginning. I don't really care anymore.
Bella was the only friend I've had ever since giving birth. Other people judged right away. Not Bella. She sometimes would babysit for me if I had to work and no daycare. My mom would pay her as well. Edward then started to help with her. Then he bonded with Athaliah as well. They both became an aunt and uncle to my daughter. I am forever grateful for them.
When her cries stop I snap out of my thoughts. Quietly slipping out of the room. I go downstairs and join everyone outside. Bella and Edward showing the new vampires renesmee's gift. I look off into the distance to see Carlisle and Esme coming our way with three new people. They're from the Egyptian Coven, they drink human blood. I lock eyes with the younger looking man. His eyes were a dark red. They felt entrancing. I couldn't look away. That was until Rosalie comes up to me.
"Could you help me with something?" She asks in a quiet tone, I furrow my eyebrows but nod my head. Following after her. Feeling eyes watch me the entire time. The blonde leads me back into the house where Zafrina, Kachiri, and Senna were standing in our way. "These ladies are from the Amazon coven. They wanted to meet you." Rosalie speaks softly, I place a hand on my chest, confused on why they would want to speak to me. "They've heard of your ability." Emmett tells me, I let out a little 'oh' standing straighter.
"Zafrina likes meeting people similar to her. Having incredible gifts." Kachiri informs me. "What's your gift?" I tilt my head, intrigued. The quiet woman smiles slightly, staring at me. Focusing on something and then suddenly I'm not in the house anymore. I'm back outside. But not our outside. A different place. A place I've never seen before. It was gorgeous.
Then I'm back in the house and I stare at her with wide eyes. "That... was amazing." I tell her, utterly in shock. She grins back to me. "We'd like to see your ability." Kachiri says, I make a face, turning to Rosalie and Emmett who nod their heads for me to do it. "We'd uh, we would have to go outside." I lead the way outside, in front of the porch. The three from the Amazon Coven stand on the porch with Rosalie, Emmett was standing in the door frame.
I smile to them as the cloud above us gets darker than earlier. Their expressions are confused until I bring my arms in the air and it starts raining. It was sprinkling at first then thunder struck. I felt the others crowd around me. I then make it storm. Everyone getting soaked. And then suddenly it stops as I stop focusing on the sky. I take a deep breath. The others begin to clap.
"That's just a tiny bit of what she can do." Emmett roars out, I nod my head sheepishly. "How did you find that out?" One of the Denali sisters ask me. "When I turned, the pain caused a storm. The wind was strong. The weather was insane that night. Later on when I wasn't paying attention and every time I had a huge emotion, a storm began every time. It's a lot easier to control now." I smile as I then make it begin to snow. Renesmee runs up to me with a huge smile. I pick her up so she can play with the snowflakes.
"This is a powerful ability... The Volturi would have no chance against us." Garrett laughs beside Kate who has a tiny smirk on her face. "You could deflect my electricity and make it more powerful." She tells me, lifting one of her hands to show me the electricity coming out of it.
Then everyone begins to talk to one another about it. I place Renesmee down, she holds my hand though instead of running off. I listen outside of the others to see if Athaliah has woken up but her breathing is still slowed. I can tell she's about to wake up. Her naps aren't very long lately.
A person walks up to me, startling me. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was the younger looking man from the Egyptian Coven. I wave a hand. "It's alright, I was trying to make sure my daughter was still sleeping." I sigh out, looking down to my niece who was staring up at the man.
"Your daughter?" He asks, looking around. "Her name's Athaliah." I tell him, we begin to walk inside the house, Renesmee sticking by my side because I think she knows we're going to see my girl. "Beautiful name." He compliments, I quietly thank him. His looks are entrancing I can barely focus on what is being said.
It goes silent between us until Renesmee speaks up in a small sweet tone. "He can make tornados, smaller than yours though." I smile down at her. "Really?"
I've only created a tornado once and right as it formed we made it disappear. That was before Renesmee was born though. Of course Emmett told her about it though. "Our gifts are incredibly similar." He tells me. Before he can say anything else though I hear my daughter begin to stir. Her tiny whines sounding out to down here. "Oh, I have to go, I'll be back." I step up the first couple of steps. He stands there, I can tell her wishes to say something though.
Renesmee was already running to the bedroom though. "What's your name?" I ask him.
"Benjamin." He says. I smile. "Beautiful name." I then head up the stairs.
Renesmee is playing with Athaliah through the bars of the crib. I smile, heading over to them and picking up my daughter. "Let's go play downstairs." Renesmee says, taking my hand once again and dragging me back down. Benjamin was still standing there just as he was before I left.
I was glad to be honest. I was hoping he waited for me. "This is Athaliah, Athaliah, meet Benjamin." I bounce her on my hip, pointing to the beautiful man. She tiredly looks to him.
Then suddenly doing grabby hands at him for him to take her. I furrow my eyebrows. It usually takes her a minute to get used to new people. He sticks his hand out, letting her grab onto it. It wasn't enough though she lunges her body forward so he could take her out of my arms. I laugh. "Sorry, you don't have to-"
"I don't mind as long as you don't." He puts his hands out and I shrug my shoulders, handing her over to him. Renesmee watches, a little bit annoyed until Edward comes in and tells her to go with him somewhere. I watch as my daughter puts his face into her hands. I then wondered if that was a good idea looking at his eyes which were red. Meaning he eats humans.
I bit my lip. He looks over to me and I think he can sense my worry. He gives me a short smile and places Athaliah down. She walks back to me, hugging my legs. She's still waking up.
Later in the night Bella and I were getting the girls to sleep. Athaliah sprawled out, her arm going over Renesmee's torso. She's holding onto her hand. I look up to see Bella looking at someone. I trace where. It was Benjamin who was sitting beside Jacob. He was staring at me though. "He seems enamored by you." She whispers, careful not to wake the kids. I snort out a laugh. "Yeah, okay. He wants a single mom." I joke, rolling my eyes.
"I mean the whole time he's been here he's been staring at you. He keeps trying to talk with you and he's brought you up to us every chance he gets. Asking about your ability." She informs me and I give her a look. "Yeah, he's interested in my ability. Not me." I sit up straight, crossing my legs.
"You're so oblivious, [Name]." She comments, sitting up as well. We eventually get up listening to Vladimir and Stefan talk about how they despise the Volturi and why. They were characters, that was for sure.
I sit down by the fire, a log was already there but no one else was there. They all went to different areas of the woods. I stared at the flames wondering how tomorrow was going to go. Someone sat beside me but neither of us spoke. I didn't even move my head to see.
"[Name]." The person speaks up after moments of silence. I hum out in response. "I uh I've never been left this speechless before. I don't know what to say around you." It was Benjamin, I smile to myself before turning to face him. "I'm boring, I apologize." I say, now just observing his features and I wonder what he was like as a human. If he was always this perfect.
"No, you're not at all. You make me nervous. It's a feeling I don't think I've ever experienced." His eyes lock with mine and I badly want to look away. But I can't. I'm stuck in place. "When did you turn?" I slightly change the subject. "1815." My eyes widen to his answer. He begins to laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, that was rude." I rub my hands together, finally looking away due to embarrassment.
"I expected it, when did you turn?"
"Last year."
"A newborn practically and you're that in control of your ability?" He seemed to be surprised.
"I couldn't control my ability completely until maybe six years after turning." He then ignites fire from his pointer finger. "You control the elements?" I ask in amazement. "And you control the weather." He states.
"Our abilities are incredibly similar." I laugh, excited. Watching the flames on his finger tip before he closes his fist and it goes away.
For hours we talk about our abilities, about his life before turning. I do the same. Telling him a bit about Athaliah. It never felt like a bad subject bringing her up like it usually does with men.
He actually asks about her and that's where I feel he doesn't want to be with me but to be friends.
"Your daughter truly has your looks." We both look to my sleeping daughter who is still sprawled out. I smile. "Thank you. She's my everything." I tell him.
"I can tell."
"I'm interested in getting to know you more." Benjamin says, this time he cautiously takes my hand into his. Making sure I was okay with it before gripping a little tighter. "What do you want to know?" I nervously ask.
"No, I mean courting you. You being mine, me being yours." He explains, I scrunch my nose before saying. "it might be forward, I know this. But you, seeing you, talking to you today. It only makes me want to be yours more."
"What about Athaliah, she comes with, we're a package deal. I'm a single mother. She's human, you eat off... humans." I take my hand back, now giving him a serious expression. It feels crazy but I feel the same way. I feel so strongly for him and I can't lose it but I also have to put my child first.
"I'll love her as my own. I'll eat animals for you both. I'll learn." He assures me, I pause for a moment.
"This feels crazy." I laugh out. "But I'll give it a try. I'm interested in getting to know you more." Even though we don't know what's going to happen tomorrow I don't care. I deserve to be happy even for a little bit.
——————
I almost deleted this whole thing after finishing it.
Heart was racing. Almost cried.
If you want to request anything lmk!
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creatorj-meow · 1 year
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I never seen this movie ONCE in my life till now. And now saw the cruel reality of what my race has to go through.
Never knew how much the Mexican American children suffers under the foster care system here....
I'm not one to break down in front of my family but that one SPECIFIC SCENE... is now ENGRAVED in mind now.
Now I just want to look for this movie to see it from the beginning to end.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month
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oh hey! i was reading a fic the other day where Wangji was once misspelled as Wangu. which leads me to: MDZS Pingu-style??? noot noot!
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Do you think love can bloom on the sea ice?
#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#digital art#Club penguin#ask#I've drawn a lot of strange crossovers for MDZS but this one really takes it up a notch#I saw this ask and thought “yeah why not. I've been meaning to do style studies. Let's experiment.”#And the moment my pen hit my tablet I was struck by the need to make it even worse.#Perhaps I am just nostalgic for club penguin and pengu but I think there is something magical about them holding hands.#Anyways I think younger WWX would have loved club penguin. It's the joy of the minigames and hanging out with your friends online.#Lan Wangji could never get past the fact the 'Ask your parent/guardian!' part of registration.#Either because he knew Lan Qiren would have said no *or* because he asked once and got turned down.#Lan Xichen probably was like 'Hey I can help you with that :)' to which LWJ said no because that was breaking the rules.#But if I *had* to put wangxian in a club penguin AU? Yeah 1000% it's LWJ as a mod and WWX as a notorious (nootorious) griefer.#WWX would be trying to speed run how fast he can get banned or how much he can get away with.#Getting removed and returning over and over earns him the 'necromancer of CP' title in the community. Loathed by many.#Meanwhile LWJ is about to seriously consider doxxing this guy just to get him to stop making his volunteer hobby less of a nightmare.#Cue 10 years later. They meet up on the ice flow on the last day before the servers get shut down. They have a genuine heart to heart.#Three years later on Club Penguin rewritten: two grown men decide to relive their childhood one more time.#Fate draws them to the same server.#I ask again. Do you think love can bloom on the digital sea ice?
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changbunnies · 22 days
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Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader
♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol
♡ Word Count: 11.2k
♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.
♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)
♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv
♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.
You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on. 
The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.
You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.
But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.
He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.
Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.
You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.
He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder. 
Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat. 
He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.
You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.
Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.
He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.
You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.
He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.
And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.
He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room. 
Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)
Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.
Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.
“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.
He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.
In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist. 
His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.
Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.
He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.
You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.
Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.
He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.
Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit. 
Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom. 
He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.
You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.
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The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.
The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.
The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.
You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.
They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.
You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.
And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.
Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.
“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”
“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?
“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.
His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.
His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real. 
“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.
It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better. 
“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.
He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”
You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”
“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”
Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.
“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.
“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.
Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.
But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.
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The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.
And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.
Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck. 
“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.
He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.
It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.
“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.
Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.
He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.
He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.
“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”
“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.
“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.
At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.
“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?
You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.
He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.
Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.
You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse. 
And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.
You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.
He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.
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The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.
He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.
And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.
Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.
He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.
Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.
“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.
“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this. 
“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.
“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”
He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.
It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.
“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.
But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?
Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.
There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.
“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.
“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.
“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.
“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.
“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.
“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.
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There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up. 
He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.
And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.
All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.
You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.
He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you. 
Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.
Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.
He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.
He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.
And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.
There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.
He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?
Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips. 
Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.
You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.
When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.
Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to. 
Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.
“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.
“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.
Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.
“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”
“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.
“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.
“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see. 
Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.
“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.
The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.
“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.
Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?
Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.
He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.
Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.
He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.
“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.
Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.
“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.
“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.
When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.
You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.
“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.” 
Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.
You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.
He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.
He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.
“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole. 
He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.
Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.
Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.
“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.
It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.
It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.
You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.
You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”
It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.
“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.
He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him. 
The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.
Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.
“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.
“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.
He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”
Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.
You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.
It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.
You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.
He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.
“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.
Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.
He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”
“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.
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network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet
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mrsparrasblog · 5 months
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POLY 141 x pregnant Reader
reaction if they are the biological father. if they are not the Dad
Postpartum Depression
Ever thought about what it would be like to be pregnant with this gigantic pile of handsome men? Because I've thought about it, and I can go into heavy detail—I will go into heavy detail!
Price: This man has a heavy breeding kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. He was so happy when he found out you were pregnant that he immediately got into heavy Dad mode. "What do you mean?" he asked after you told him he doesn't need to baby-proof the house when you're only in the second month. He attends baby preparation courses with you and overall turns into a super daddy.
Johnny: The second one with a heavy breeding kink is 100% sure he is the father. "It's the MacTavish genes," he says confidently. "We're going to have at least three bairns by the end of the five-year mark." He wouldn't admit it, but he called his mother crying while he told her the news. The MacTavish Family was special, so they all came with big stroller gifts and the urge to overwhelm you with their love. They don't care who the baby's biological father is; in their hearts, you're a MacTavish, exactly like your sweet little bairn.
Kyle: He is really excited. He already loves the baby and is also 100% sure it's his because you two have the most sex out of all of them. He always fights with Johnny about who the father probably is. Kyle is the one who thinks the most about you. He knows how you struggle with the pregnancy and how it isn't easy for you with all the overwhelming baby daddies around you, so he takes his time to care about you. He compliments you more than ever, and if you have a weird craving, he's already ordered it before you even said a word. He is constantly trying to find a baby-safe option of your favorite food. He doesn't drink coffee anymore so you don't mourn alone. Check-up? He is the first to be there, and when the baby was born and everyone looked at it, he went to you. Not because he loves the baby less—it's his world—but because he was so afraid the whole pregnancy of losing his soulmate, the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing that kept him alive.
Ghost: He never wanted kids—at least he thought he didn't—but it made sense with you. He knew you would be the best mother in the world. So why was he so afraid? He thought about how he could hurt the baby all the time with his pure strength or how he would scare the baby or hurt you. For a blissful second, he thought maybe it would be better if he left so you'd be safe from all the shadows of his past. But he was better than his family. He bought lots of parenting books, went to his psychologist regularly, and attended dad meetings, not daddy meetings—a terrible mistake he made. He even bought you a guard dog for the possibility that you and the baby are alone. To his surprise, but not to yours, he was the most gentle and understanding dad there ever was.
Dont ask me why my brain came up with this weird stuff again but Im already thinking about how they react when they found out who the biological father is lol
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shaisuki · 5 months
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SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ
𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦
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FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER
content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.
synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.
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“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”
that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.
he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.
“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.
“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.
you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.
everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.
your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.
he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.
he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.
“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.
michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.
he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.
“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.
sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.
“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.
the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.
building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.
all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.
a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.
“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”
sugar pills.
sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.
michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.
as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.
it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.
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arina24 · 1 month
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Winters with Winter
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Aespa Winter x M Reader
3.6k words
Tags: SMUT, some fluff, blowjob, missionary, virgin
There was a nip in the air. Winter's arrival was faster than expected. You realized this was going to be yet another winter you were going to spend being a little more lonely than you wished. It wasn't all too bad. Winters weren't completely horrible. The opportunity to snuggle with a hot cup of coffee or chocolate was comforting. You just wished you were snuggling with someone, that's all.
It was yet another chilly morning as you made your way to work. That particular morning, winter had carried with her some generous showers, and fortunately you didn't forget your umbrella that day. In fact, you had two. You forgot an umbrella the previous day and bought an extra one from the store, and now you just travel with 2 umbrellas, because why not.
As you got off from the metro train, you fidgeted with the tight button, trying to open it, before a young woman catches your eye. She was maybe a couple years younger than you, it was hard to tell her age with how strikingly cute she was. She was in a simple blue tee, with a hoodie for protection from the cold. Blonde hair flowing down her neck, and bouncing off the shoulders of her petite body.
She was extremely beautiful and all, but the reason she caught your eye was because she seemed to be extremely nervous, biting her nails as she kept looking outside at the pouring rain, as if she could wish it away to go from 100 to 0 in 2 seconds. You didn't know what it was for, but she clearly needed to be out there. Something made you walk up to her. "Hey, need an umbrella?" You asked. She looked up to you, freeing her nails from her mouth.
"Umm, Yeah! Yes I do! OMG I've got an interview and I was so stupid to forget my umbrella." She paused for a moment, seeming to get over the initial excitement of getting hope. "Wait, if you give me yours, what will you do?" She looked even cuter close up, her hair almost magical and making her look like some sort of angel.
"It's alright, I've got another one. Yesterday I forgot mine and bought an extra." You replied, for some reason wanting her to take it and almost pushing the umbrella in her hands.
"Thank you, I wish I could thank you more but it's already really late for the interview. How do I return this to you?" She put her hands in her handbag. "Maybe I can pay you something..."
"No no, just go do well in your interview. Don't worry about all this."
"Thank you again, I hope you get all the good things in life." She replied before rushing away into the rain with your umbrella in the air.
The small interaction made you feel better. You lost an umbrella. You might never see her again. But it made you feel good. In fact as fate would have it, you would see her again. But not the umbrella.
A few nights later, as you were going home in the metro, couple of fingers tap your shoulder. You look back to see the same girl, in a pretty pink dress this time, surrounded by a thick hoodie. The dress only came down to her thighs, and you were wondering how she went out in this chilling winter with exposed legs.
"Hello, umbrella man. Do you remember me?"
"Wha- Umbrella ma-? Miss I've got a name."
"I bet you do, but you haven't told me it."
"Y/N" You offer your hand, covered in gloves. Unsurprisingly, her legs weren't the only unexposed skin, and her bare palm meets your gloves.
"Winter."
"Yeah, it's cold. That's why I've got them on."
"No, my name's Winter." She replied, giggling, making the cutest noise.
"Huh? Cute name. No wonder you seem to be handling it so well."
"Yes I was born with the powers to handle winter, which my parents sensed so excellently." She joked, giggling again. "Oh wait your umbrella, let me return it." She shoved her hands in her hand bag, searching for a solid 2 minutes before she looks up at you with a dejected face. "Sorry... I forgot it again."
"That's alright, I didn't hope to retrieve it anyway. How did your interview go though?"
"It went great, I was offered the job. The least I can do is return it for you. Which station do you get off on?"
"Antarse Street"
"Oh that's my stop too. My house is a 3 minute walk from there. If you come with me, I can return your umbrella." She replied, excited at the possibility.
You weren't sure if you wanted to go. It was late in the evening and you didn't really want your umbrella back, it was an old one which you would have thrown away in a while anyway. You hesitate to reply.
"I'll even make you some coffee. Though I can't attest to how good it is. No one else has had my coffee." She continues, hoping to win you over with coffee.
The thought of being the first other person to have Winter's coffee was enough to convince you. You continue talking with her till the stop comes. She yaps a lot. You listen. She likes that. She talks about how she’s been so desperate for a job, until she finally found one at the interview after your chance meeting. She had just graduated college and was more or less alone in the city, which made you a bit sad, but also made you feel she was in a way, like you.
She's clumsy, but endearing. Her hair was tied up today. The hoodie covering up most of her dress. You wonder how she'd look in just her pink dress and her hair flowing free again. She would look like spring flowers, you thought. Winter.... an ironic name for her. You step off the station with her, and start walking with her. She begins blowing into her hands as the chill gets a bit more intense, late in the night.
"You alright?" You ask, a bit concerned. She was clearly not a very forward thinking girl.
"Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my gloves as well." She replies meekly.
"You can have mine if you want. I'm not very cold."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah your hands seem to be freezing."
"Alright.. maybe you deserve a bit more than just coffee." She said with a smirk.
You weren't sure what that meant, but you removed your gloves, tapped it off a couple of times to get rid of any dirt and offered it to her. She put it on and smiled. It felt intimate. It was your gloves around her hands and not your hands. But it felt just as intimate as holding her hands. The look in her eyes said she felt the same.
Her apartment was more than a few blocks away, more than the 3 minute walk she promised. But it felt nice to be walking in this weather with her. It’s been a while since you’ve walked alone with a girl like this, even though the cold made her less talkative. Soon, the two of you reach her building. The apartment building wasn't anything to speak of, and her house less so. Things were a mess, even the living room.
"You live alone?"
"Yeah, it's a 1 bedroom, recently moved here for the job. Sorry for the mess... I just forget things." That much was clear to you already. She continued sheepishly, "You see, I wasn't expecting visitors."
"Yeah? Bet it would have been spic and span if you did." You reply, mocking her.
She stares at you, pretending to be offended, and hits your shoulder. "Meanie. Now wait here as I go make your coffee." She says, shoving some clothes off a seat in the couch to create space for you. You sit there awkwardly and look around the rest of the room.
There’s a table and few chairs, but not where they’re supposed to be. Table in one corner, and chairs in the opposite corner, also filled with clothes. The table has a strewn collection of random items, among them a picture of what looks like a younger Winter with her parents. She’s posing cutely for the camera near a Mickey Mouse cutout, with her parents standing behind the cutout.
“Do I look cute in that pic?” Her voice calls out, catching you surprised.
“What- I mean yeah, yeah, baby you is a cutie. These are your parents?”
“Yeah.. they passed away in an accident last year. I’ve had this photo on my table ever since.” She replies in a silent tone. “Oh I’m so sorry Winter..”, you reply. It made you wonder how she really was doing, she mentioned she didn’t really have any friends in the city, and with her parents not being here either.... must have been rough. She really didn’t show it if she did, always having a cheerful and playful tone, except for this one instance. You wondered how well you were hiding yours.
“Enough being sad, you came here for coffee so let’s have it.” She breaks the silence, and presents two cups with generous amounts of coffee. Actually, you came here for your umbrella, but you decide not to remind her of that fact and just accept her coffee. “So moment of truth, let’s find out if my coffee is actually good or I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the past 2 years.” Both of you take a sip of her coffee.
“Well... it’s certainly coffee.” You reply, then immediately wondering if you should have just lied. “Huh? I didn’t expect that.” She says, a bit dejected, but continues, “Well, you’re gonna have to make do with it.” The two of you finish drinking down the rest of your cups.
“Let me remove my hoodie, it’s already hot enough in here.” She says and takes off her hoodie in front of you, and frees up her hair, now in just her pink dress and flowing hair like you were imagining earlier. She looks more angelic than you were expecting somehow, even with minimal makeup after what seemed like a long day at her work. You couldn’t help but stare a bit too long.
“What are you looking at? Want me to get you one of these dresses? I think you would look good in this too.” She teases you, as you break away from staring and reply to her. “Why not just give me this one? I gave you my gloves and umbrella after all.” She moves closer to you. “How about I give you something else in return?” She says, in a low whispering, almost erotic tone.
“Hmm, like what?”
She leans in even closer, and her lips catch yours in an expected kiss. You are taken aback, as she pulls away. “Wait... was it not okay? I’m so sorry...” she stumbles, before you reply to her by kissing her back, erasing all suspicions from her mind. The kiss is innocent initially, but quickly turns lewder. Your tongue entering her mouth as her lips part, your tongue playing with hers in a lewd dance, as you taste all of her.
She tastes like sweet honey, and makes you let out a soft moan as you throw an arm around her neck and pull her in even closer to you. Her hand begins at your chin, and travels down your chest, slowly caressing you, before finally resting on your bulge, which was quickly growing harder and harder for her. Your other arm travels down her back, then catching her cute ass, which you squeeze softly, making her moan.
Pulling away from the kiss, you ask her, “You like that baby?”
“Yes I do.” She replies in a very soft, submissive tone, which turns you on even more.
“If you’re gonna give me the dress, we’re gonna have to take you out of it."
“That seems logical.” She replies and begins to fidget with her zipper, before you help her and get it all off her and throw it on the chair, adding to the already big pile of clothes. She’s in a soft pink bra, matching her dress, and black panties. You bring one hand down to her panties, and can see that it’s already dripping in her wetness.
With your other hand you tease her boobs over her bra, before unhooking her bra and throwing it off into the unknown. You circle your fingers around her nipple, and then bring your mouth near it. You start softly sucking on her nipples, as the slightest touch seems to stimulate her a lot, making her moan loudly and suppress various curses.
“Let’s head for your bedroom~ Look like we’ll defenitely be needing one tonight, and not just for sleeping.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs your hand and pulls you towards her bedroom. Entering, you lock the door, and the room is somehow even more of a mess than her living room.
You just push away the clothes, then softly push her on the bed. She tugs at your shirt, indicating she wants you out of clothes too. With her help, soon you’re out of your shirt and pants, with your cock almost wanting to burst out of your boxers already with how hard it is. She rubs her hand over your boxers, teasing your cock.
“My my~ You’re so hard already.”
“All because of you, baby.”
“Yeah baby? Why don’t you show me exactly how turned on I’ve gotten you.” Even the way she said baby in a sing-song voice made you feel like it was laced with honey, or maybe it was poison, but it seemed to make you addicted to it either way.
She continued rubbing your cock over your boxers, almost wishing it would come out like magic if she did. You fulfill her wishes and pull down your boxers swiftly, as your cock pops for her.
“It looks very pretty.” She says.
“Since when do cocks look pretty?” You laugh.
“Since today.” She says and wraps her fingers around your cock slenderly, and begins softly stroking you up and down. It was clear she didn’t have much experience with this, as she seemed to be doubting herself while doing so. “You’re doing well baby, you can hold it tighter if you want~” You encourage her. That instantly makes her more confident and her face brightens up.
She responds so cutely to praise, you think. She starts stroking faster and holding you tighter. She spits on her hands, and gently rubs it all over your cock, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her hands just glide over your cock now, making you feel even better as you begin moaning for her softly.
She brings her mouth closer to your cock and starts licking you with her tongue, going up all the way from your balls to your tip, spreading her saliva all over your cock. You place a hand on her head, caressing her hair, which makes her release another cute moan, and she places her lips around your cock. Firstly sucking on your tip, before taking the entirety of your length inside her mouth.
It hits the back of her throat, making her gag a little, although she quickly recovers. She bobs her head up and down on your cock, her tongue swirling around it as you moan louder and louder. Every moan you release and every time you caress your head it makes her more confident, as she sucks on you faster and faster.
After sucking for a while, she releases her mouth from your cock and stops for a pause, catching her breath. “You’re tired already baby? The night is just starting.” You tease her. “Not a chance.” She replies before taking your cock back in her mouth, for another round of sucking.
Her spit now drips out from her mouth, dripping down to her chest, making a mess. Her face and your crotch are both wet with the same thing now. She takes a break for the second time, more out of breath now as she takes heavy breaths with saliva still stretching out from your cock to her mouth.
“That’s enough babe~ Let me return the favour now.” You say and push her down with her head on the pillow. Your fingers reach her panties, and now they have no semblance of ever being anything but a wet dripping mess of her juices. You slide those panties down, exposing her pussy which looks just as cute as her, glistening with wetness.
You slide one finger in, as her juices coat your fingers. You shove the finger in your mouth and taste her juices. “It tastes like sweet nectar.” You tell her. “Don’t you want more of that where that came from, baby” She teases you.
You do, so your mouth goes down to her panties, and you spread your tongue across her pussy. Licking all across, getting a taste of her juices directly, as it makes her moan. “Fuck.” You slide a finger in her pussy at the same time, and start fingering her pussy, your fingers slick with her juices.
You reach her clit with your tongue, and every lick on it stimulates her to the point that she’s screaming. “Fuck! You’re doing so good! Don’t stop... Please don’t stop...” You can feel the neediness in her voice. Her neediness to cum for your mouth. You insert one more finger, and you’re alternating between sucking and licking on her clit, with two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.
You could tell she was getting close with how she was twitching and basically grinding her pussy on your tongue faster than you could lick her. You don’t stop, listening to her desperate moans begging you to keep going.
You insert a third finger when you sense she’s about to cum. She begins squirting as she finishes, her liquids bursting out from her pussy and making a mess on your face, and wetting the sheets of her bed and the clothes around with her liquids. She holds on to your hair indicating you to keep going, and you do it till she’s made the entire bed wet with her juices.
“Fuck... you are so good at that...” She remarks, breathless. “Seems like you wanted to make an even bigger mess on my face than my cock did on yours.” You tease her. She just giggles before replying. “I hope we’re not done yet though.... I still need to feel your cock somewhere else.”
“Yeah? Where do you need to feel it?”
“You know where.. dont act silly” She says, blushing and looking down.
“Winter miss I think you’re well beyond the point of acting shy. Say it or you’re not getting it.”
“I need it in my pussy. I need it deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every inch of your cock in me.”
Hearing her say the thing you wanted to do most to her made you gather all your energy for perhaps the last round of the night. You get on top of her again. Lining up your cock with the pussy you just made squirt all over. She looks in your eye with lustful desire. Her eyes conveying all her deepest wants with nothing hiding it. Yet she somehow managed to look like the cutest girl in the universe. You weren’t sure how. You move your hips forward. She was so wet that your cock slipped right in.
Her pussy was tight, and she wraps her legs around you, not willing to let you go till you give her what she needs so badly. You comply, beginning to move your hips with a rhythm. She places one hand on your chest and pulls your body closer to her. She wants your body close to her. She wants your body ON her.
You catch her lips with yours as you continue thrusting. By this time both your faces and mouths are messes, but neither of you could care less, and the kiss is more intense than last time as you continue fucking her pussy.
She moans through the kiss, her moans escaping into your mouth and she gets loud for your cock in her. As you pull away from the kiss you can hear just how much moans she’s been suppressing. The sounds of your thighs clapping against hers was loud, but her moans easily blow over all of them.
“Fuck baby, your cock feels so fucking good.” All the honey in her baby is now gone. This one is driven by pure unadulterated lust.
You could listen to her moans for years. But you couldn’t keep going for years. All good things come to an end, and you could feel you were close to cumming. “I’m close Winter.” You let her know. “I want it IN ME. Please. Please.” She begs and wraps her legs tighter around you. Not willing to let go either way. You wanted to cum in her anyway.
She intertwines her fingers with yours and holds on to your palm tightly. “Cum in me baby. I want you.” She clenches her pussy around your cock tightly, which makes you release. Your load flows into her pussy filling her up, cumming more than you thought you could cum. As you move your hips back you can watch how much you came in her, with it now dripping out of her.
The two of you try to clean up (as much as you could after that tiring session) and cuddle into each other’s arms trying to fall asleep. You remember what she told you at the end of your first meeting. “I hope you get all the good things in life.” You think you already did.
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sturniolohouse · 1 month
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Anniversary in the Cape - M.S
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A/N: hey so, i feel CRAZY after writing this. this is truly an example of the duality of my writing... also, i'm sorry if there's any typos, i've proofread a ton and even stuck this bitch in grammarly but i could have missed something. she's looonnnng, so get some wine (if legal) and some popcorn and enjoy!!!!!! ALSO, ALSO, minors!!! DNI!!!! pls and thank you. :)
summary: matt and reader take their relationship to the next level, going on an overdue vacation to the cape for their anniversary.
warnings: cursing, smut (unprotected do not recommend), spanking, choking, matt being hot, uhhh idk
word count: 5.8k
song: stargazing - the neighborhood
'started with a spark, now we're on fire'
"And you're sure your parents were okay with us using the car and the house?" I ask looking at him focus on the road in front of him.
"Yes, baby. For the one-hundredth time, they don't mind. Quit worrying, this is our vacation," He looks at me quickly, taking a hand off the wheel to meet my thigh and squeeze it lightly.
"I know, I'm just nervous," I admit softly and he turns to me with wide playful eyes.
"Nervous! Why the hell are you nervous?" He laughs in bewilderment, and I roll my eyes, shrugging slightly.
"I mean, obviously we've been alone before, but we've never been away just the two of us," I explain.
"Yeah, and I'm fucking ecstatic about it. Like you said, no interruptions, quiet house, on the cape...possibilities are endless." He says looking at me with a small suggestive smile growing on his face.
Of course, Matt and I get alone time. Do we get as much as we would like? No.
It's difficult finding time for ourselves when Matt lives with his brothers and my roommates are hermits.
Which I never saw as an issue, because I honestly don't mind spending time with Chris and Nick whenever I'm by their place–which is often. I was actually friends with all of them way before Matt and I began dating. 
But when Matt brought up the last time we had gone on a real date, it had been months.
"No, I know. I'm excited too, it's just a new step in our relationship and it feels very...adult? I don't know, I sound silly," I shake my head and he squeezes my thigh again before grabbing my hand.
"Hey, I know what you mean, and you don't sound silly." He softens a bit to reassure me before kissing the back of my hand. My heart warms at his gesture and I squeeze his hand. 
"I'm excited to show you one of my favorite places, I still can't believe you've never been. I literally grew up here." He changes the subject as he switches lanes and I see the sign indicating Cape Cod is less than a mile away.
We flew into Boston by ourselves yesterday afternoon and spent the night at his parent's house. It was Matt's idea, saying he didn't mind taking the drive as it wasn't too far from his house in Somerville. 
"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing?" I rub circles into the back of his hand with my thumb.
His mouth quirks to one side pensively but he laughs as soon as he hears me sigh impatiently. 
"Okay, okay, you really wanna know?" He drawls out, turning to glance at me for a moment then turning back to the road. 
"You know I wanna know," I lean over the divider and stare into the side of his face. He smirks a bit, side-eyeing me a few times before humming. 
"Hmm, I think I'll leave you squirming a little longer," He says after a moment.
He exits the highway and I huff, slumping back into my seat.
This place looks like something straight out of a storybook.  
The green, hilly scenery takes my breath away. Matt shows me the main street, driving past the historic houses and buildings as families and couples walk down the street. When we round the bend, the dense trees become few and far between and the lush green landscape dissolves into tall grass, sand, and rock as the ocean comes into view.
We drive along the coast the rest of the way and I just stare in awe at the cozy beach town as Matt tells stories of growing up here in the summer. 
"That house at the end is the family house," He points to the one on the left.
Pulling into the driveway, Matt puts the car in park before cutting the engine. I go to open my door but he stops me, putting a finger up and getting out of the car himself.
I give him a questioning look before I see him jog to the other side of the car to open my door for me.
"And they say chivalry is dead," I shake my head jokingly and he shrugs with a smirk.
I get out of the car and lean up to give him a quick kiss, we're smiley and giddy when we pull apart. He gives me another kiss before handing me a key.
"Go head inside, I'll grab our bags," He says softly against my lips and I nod quickly.
As I walk past him to make my way to the front door, I feel a light slap to my ass. I go to give him a playful disapproving look, but he's already opening the trunk to grab our stuff and acting like nothing happened.
The house is small and charming.
It belongs to their grandparents and has been the family vacation home for decades. The colorful wind chimes on the front porch sing with the soft breeze. I breathe in the salty air and walk towards the steps leading to the front door.
I twist the key to open the door and I'm engulfed with a warm, inviting scent. There are tons of family pictures on the walls and my heart swells at the baby pictures of the triplets.
I can easily spot Matt in a picture of the three of them on the beach, probably around four or five years old.
Seeing photos of them as children always blows my mind because of how identical they looked.
Matt comes in with our bags, noticing me looking at the photos on the wall.
"You were so fucking cute as a kid," I say going to grab my duffel from him but he takes my hand instead, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.
"Am I not cute now?" He pretends to be offended.
"Eh," I joke back and he opens the door at the end of the hall.
"This is our bedroom, the bathroom is next door on the left," He nods behind us toward the hall.
The bedroom is a pale seafoam green color, the bed adorned with a vintage patchwork quilt lined with a ruffle trim. The room has more family photos hung on the walls and beach-themed decor.
"We can unpack now and then head to the store to grab something for dinner and the next few days. There's definitely no food here. Sound good?" He places our bags on the bed and turns to me, placing his hands on his hips.
He wears a backward camo Boston Red Sox hat, a black tee with a silver chain around his neck, jean shorts, and white New Balance sneakers.
I must have been ogling him for too long because he snaps his fingers in front of my face with a smug expression.
"D'ya hear me, kid, or are you too busy eye-fucking me?" He smiles, licking his lips, and I feel a deep blush bloom from my chest up to my neck.
"Not my fault my boyfriend is so hot," I shrug, trying to recover from his playful callout, and he rolls his eyes, blushing himself.
He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his middle, placing my head over his heart as we settle into a moment of comfortable silence.
An intrusive thought takes over, and I squeeze him tighter against me. I hear him groan at the sudden pressure of my grip, and he grabs hold of my arms.
"Okay, okay. Enough with the cuteness-aggression. You're going to break my ribs, kid," He wheezes.
I let up only after he tickles my sides. I squeal as he chases me to the other side of the bed and I finally surrender and ask for mercy. He slaps my ass and tells me I'll pay for it later.
We unpack our stuff and head out to the store to get ingredients for tacos. The one and only thing I've tried to improve in Matt is his cooking skills.
When we first got together, it was concerning how little he knew about cooking along with the number of times a week he'd eat out. I changed that real fast, teaching him basic meals he could make himself that were quick and pretty foolproof. Tacos were one of them.
"Go shower, I'll start dinner." He tells me, putting all of the groceries on the counter.
"You sure you can handle it?" I tease, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Hey, I've gotten better. Didn't you like the salmon I made you the other week?" He points his finger at me and I roll my eyes.
"Yes, my love, I was very proud of you." I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, "I'll be quick," I say before going to take my long-awaited shower.
As the hot water cascades over my shoulders, I can't help but let my thoughts drift. This trip is a huge step for us, and despite my nerves, I know it was a much-needed and deserved trip.
We don't really have an anniversary only because we both don't remember the specific date and we never made our being official a big deal. It's never been our style.
But we decided this would be a getaway for our 'anniversary' as next month will be our second summer together.
I finish up and wrap myself in a towel, savoring the lingering warmth before I quickly get dressed. I smell the scent of sizzling meat and spices coming from the kitchen.
When I reach the kitchen, I can't help but smile at the sight of Matt carefully chopping lettuce. His brows furrowed and his tongue poked out in serious concentration.
"Smells amazing in here," I comment, leaning against the doorway.
Matt looks up startled a bit, dropping the knife and putting a hand over his heart. A proud grin quickly spreads across his face when he realizes it's just me.
"You fuckin' scared me. I'm almost done, just need to heat up the tortillas." He gestures for me to come over, and I do, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind.
"You're getting good at this," I compliment, kissing his shoulder as he flips the tortillas.
"Only because I have a great teacher," he replies, turning his head to kiss my cheek.
I help set the table while Matt finishes up. We sit down to eat, the atmosphere cozy and intimate. The tacos are actually delicious, and I make sure to shower Matt with compliments for his efforts. We pop open the sparkling apple cider Mary-Lou and Jimmy gave as a parting gift to us. Digging through the cupboards, we end up finding old plastic flutes to make a quick toast with.
"Here's to us, thank you for making each day brighter. To many more days with you, I love you very much," I say simply, raising my glass. He gets shy and smiley but clinks our glasses.
I can't help but smile at him as he blushes and tries to hide it. I lean in for a kiss and he immediately gives me one.
"I love you more," He whispers against me, pulling me onto his lap and giving me a deeper kiss. "I would say something too, but I don't want to sound stupid,"
"Hush, I already know you're madly in love with me. You made me bomb ass tacos," I joke, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him into my chest. He giggles and kisses my collarbone.
After dinner, we go to the backyard to watch what's left of the sunset. We put a lawn chair by the water and sit together watching the orange horizon disappear behind the shoreline. The hues of blues and purples melt together in the sky until it grows darker and the moonlight casts a silvery glow on the water.
The sound of the waves is soothing, our breathing in sync as I sit in his lap, his hand drumming lightly on my hip.
"This will continue to be my favorite place, I'm glad I get to share it with you." Matt says, his voice soft and contemplative.
"Thank you for sharing it with me," I reply, squeezing his hand. "I'm really happy we came."
"Me too." He turns to face me, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. He goes deep in thought for a moment and he almost goes to say something but stops himself.
I give him a questioning look and nudge him lightly.
"What was that?" I ask gently and he shakes his head.
"Nothing," He tries to brush it off but I grab his chin and turn his face toward me.
"Didn't seem like it," I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"I don't wanna freak you out," he says lowly and I give him a pressing look before he sighs deeply, finally giving in.
"I was just imagining our future. I can just see us, you know, bringing our kids here in the summers. They'd grow up with memories of this place like I do," he admits, staring directly at the water as he confesses his inner thoughts.
My heart tightens with emotion at his statement.
"You think about stuff like that?" My voice cracks, tears stinging my eyes and he immediately snaps his head to look at me.
"Hey, why are you crying?" He looks worried, cupping my cheek and using his thumb to catch a tear falling.
"Of course, I think of 'stuff like that' though. Does that scare you?" His voice laced with uncertainty and I shake my head immediately at his foolish question.
"No, no," I say softly, running my hand through his hair tenderly, then tracing his face. Starting from his left eyebrow, down his cheekbone, and over the scruff on his jaw.
His eyes flutter at my soft touch and he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
"It's actually really sweet, Matt. I didn't think you'd want things like that with me, a family..." I admit and his eyes widen at my foolishness.
"Sweetheart, I hope you know you're it for me. Pretty sure if you ever decide one day you're sick of me, I'll spend the rest of my fucking life alone." He tells me openly and I blubber at his sweet words that pierce my heart more.
"Stop crying," He laughs lightly, getting slightly nervous by my reaction but I try to compose myself.
"You wanna have babies with me," I squeak, crying more and he tosses his head back in laughter as I continue to be a mess.
"Yes, I want 'babies' with you. If you want babies," He smiles, continuing to wipe my tears. "Okay, I love you, but you have snot all over your face," he says motioning all over his face with his finger and I gasp covering my nose.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, no more tears" He says and I roll my eyes, hitting his shoulder lightly, laughing a little bit now.
"They're happy tears. I just love you, a lot. It's overwhelming sometimes," I bury my face into his neck and he rubs my back soothingly as I actually compose myself.
I must be severely PMS-ing because I'm never this emotional.
"I know what you mean," He says, my heart swelling once more. "It scares me how much I love you." He kisses my hair but I lift my head for a real one.
We share a tender kiss, the ocean breeze wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.
"I can see it too by the way. Having a family. But way, way in the future," I say when I pull away, fixing the hair on his forehead.
"Oh, yeah for sure. Although, shit happens, who knows." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrow.
"Well, thanks to modern science and my IUD, no kids for at least ten years," I say and his eyes widen a bit.
"Okay, ten years is kinda a long time..." He trails off, catching me off guard.
"Matt!" I say in shock.
"I'm kidding!" He laughs.
. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚. ˖
Matt walks into the room after brushing his teeth just as I'm taking the throw pillows off the bed and pulling back the duvet.
I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and his face buries into my neck. He places open-mouth kisses on the curve of my neck, making his way up to my ear, where he grazes his teeth lightly.
I sigh, shuddering at the sensation and allowing my head to fall back against his shoulder.
He puts both hands on my hips this time, pulling my backside into his crotch. I moan at the feeling of him already hardening against me and I press my legs together in anticipation.
"I like this, no one around to interrupt...just us," His voice is velvet and I melt into his hold.
I hum, "Yeah, it's nice," My voice is airy.
"Can be as loud as we want, too..." He chuckles lowly, as I feel one of his hands sneak beneath my sleep shirt.
His fingertips delicately dance up my stomach, barely even touching my skin. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, yearning for his touch.
His hand stops right below my breast and I whine when he doesn't touch me further. I arch hoping to make more contact with his hand, but he doesn't give it to me.
"Matt," I say almost as a whisper, a plea.
"Mm," He hums, returning to kissing my neck. I can hear and feel the smug grin on his face, he knows what game he's playing.
"Touch me," I whine, arching again and lifting myself to reach his hand.
He finally cups my breast, taking my nipple in between his fingers and I gasp as he tugs and pinches gently.
He sucks on my ear lightly, giving it a kitten lick before blowing cold air. I spin around in his hold, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into me.
The kiss was explosive, and we both let out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling our hips flush together and leaning into the kiss more, forcing me to bend back.
In the heat of the moment, we stumble back onto the bed behind us clumsily, my butt slipping off the edge of the bed. I yelp when I almost fall, and laugh into the kiss. Our teeth clink together momentarily as he chuckles too.
He grabs under my thighs, lifting me further onto the bed as I make room for him to settle between them.
"That's better," He breathes out before kissing me again, laying me down on the cool linen sheets.
I revel in the feeling of his weight on top of me, our hips perfectly puzzled together, my hands running through his soft hair, while his rest on my hips.
I tug at the roots of his hair to elicit a delicious sound from him, something primal and guttural.
He squeezes my hips and pulls back to look down at me with half-lidded eyes. His pupils are so blown out you can barely make out the icy blue of his irises.
He keeps eye contact with me as he makes his way lower, lifting my sleep shirt above my breasts. My nipples pebble and harden as they're exposed to the cool air. He places wet kisses down my sternum, then my stomach until he reaches right above my cotton underwear.
He kneels on the floor so he's perfectly aligned in front of my core, his fingers play with the band of my underwear and he smiles to himself shaking his head.
I lean up on my elbows, "What?" I can't help but smile back.
"Kittens?" He raises his eyebrows and smirks at me.
I shrug, not ashamed in the slightest at the pattern of my underwear.
"Yeah, you like 'em?" I deadpan, but break into a grin when he tips his head back and laughs.
Endearingly, of course.
"Very sexy," he replies, and I shriek as he yanks me to the very edge of the bed.
He slips his fingers into the hem of my underwear, finally pulling them down my legs and discarding them. He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh before prying them apart and pinning them.
Just as quick as we're joking about my underwear, I'm back to trembling under his touch.
Completely exposed to him now, he teases me, kissing my inner thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.
My hips buck at the gentle assault but he keeps me in place, stunting my movements.
"Patience..." he chides and I roll my eyes.
He slaps my thigh a little harder this time and I hiss, my core pulsing at the act. He licks a stripe on each crease of my thigh, purposely ignoring my aching cunt.
His thumbs spread my lips apart before he collects my arousal using it to circle my clit. I whimper at the contact, stopping myself from bucking my hips again.
Matt's in a trance, mouth agape, eyes heavy, as he continues to tease me and I become more and more restless.
Almost as if he couldn't contain himself any longer, he finally buries his head between my thighs. He hungrily licks from my entrance up to my clit, before sucking on my swollen nub like I'm a honeysuckle.
"Fuck," I gasp under my breath, squirming under his grip. My breath shallowed and my heart stuttered.
"I told you, we could be as loud as we want," He slurs against me, flattening his tongue against me and shaking his head side to side quickly.
I let go of a whine before snapping my legs around his head, overwhelmed by pleasure. He growls, immediately prying them back open and relentlessly swirling his tongue against me.
I grab a hold of the hair at the crown of his head as he continues to drink me in. Skillfully lapping every inch of my folds, knowing exactly what to do to get me wound up in merely minutes.
I feel the build-up of my first orgasm, all my muscles going taut as I begin to shake uncontrollably.
Matt knows that I'm about to come, so he pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers. He slips his ring and middle fingers inside me with ease, massaging my front wall and coaxing my orgasm out of me with each gentle drag.
"Oh my fucking god," I cry out, my hips moving with his fingers.
He stands above me now, swiping my hair away from my face and gently caressing my cheekbone. I grab onto his bicep beside me as he leans down to kiss me, swallowing my whimpers. 
"C'mon, baby. I can feel you squeezing the fuck outta my fingers. Come for me," His voice is a gentle command against my jaw. 
His mouth attaches to my nipple as his thumb smushes into my puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, stimulating me everywhere.
That's all it takes before the wave peaks, then crashes and floods of icy-hot, blinding pleasure courses through me. He moans against me as he feels me pulse and ooze around his fingers.
My nails dig into his bicep and I arch into him, my hips mindlessly riding out the pleasure as his name falls from my lips in a desperate, broken cry.
His mouth and fingers gently work me through the aftershocks before I'm grabbing his wrist and whining from the sensitivity. 
"You're so fucking hot," He breathes, kissing me again.
I exhale into him, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down onto me.
He pulls back, tossing his shirt off his head and undoing his belt, looking down at me as I lay half-naked and panting. I lean up on my elbows and move myself further up the bed.
He's only in his black boxers now, placing a knee on the bed before crawling towards me.
"Wanna taste you," I say, reaching up to kiss his neck and he lets out a shaky breath.
He shakes his head, "I won't fucking make it," he pants, grabbing my jaw and claiming my mouth again.
He pulls back, "As much as I love this fucking mouth," He adds darkly, tracing my swollen lips before licking them sensually and kissing me deeper.
I moan at the kiss and the feel of his cold rings against my hot skin. I run my hands down his chest as our breathing picks up, the kiss becoming more heated.
I run my tongue along his bottom lip and he allows me in before moving his hand down from my jaw to my neck, squeezing gently.
I pull back this time to take my shirt off, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I then hook my fingers in the band of his boxers and pull them down just enough to free him. His dick springs up, the tip so red it looks painful.
I spit into my hand before taking him into my hand and giving him a couple of strokes, swiping his weeping tip with my thumb. He whimpers at the touch before grabbing my wrist and making me release him.
I pout, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck off his precum. His mouth falls agape at the sight, and his eyes screw shut as he falls onto one of his hands weakly.
"What's wrong?" I make sure my voice is dripping like sweet, gooey honey. Tempting a very hungry grizzly bear.
He grits his teeth, straightening himself back up on his knees in front of me. I look up at him, my hand rubbing up and down his thigh.
"You're going to be the death of me," His voice is gritty, and I tilt my head innocently. I yelp when he grabs my hips and flips me over.
It's moments like these that remind me of his surprising strength.
He pulls me onto my knees so my cheek is pressed into the mattress and my ass is elevated, leaving me exposed and shaking with anticipation.
His hand comes down onto my asscheek and I hiss at the sting. I feel his dick poke the back of my thigh as his hand smooths over my ass to ease the burn.
"Matt, please," I pant when he kisses down my spine and I push my hips back impatiently.
"Need my cock that bad, hm?" he murmurs against my skin and I nod quickly.
"Need you inside me, please," I whine, not caring how desperate I sound, only focused on how his low chuckle makes my core pulse around nothing.
"Yeah?" He croons and my breath hitches when I feel him run his tip along my aching pussy. Knocking against my clit with each teasing stroke.
"Yes-" I whimper and then gasp when I feel the familiar, delicious stretch of him.
I grip the sheets as he grips my hips harshly, slowly entering me.
"Fuuuck," He strains out, and I can picture the vein in his neck protruding, wishing I could lick it.
He fills me completely, his hips flush against my ass. I whimper as I feel him buried deep inside me, hitting a sensitive spot that turns my legs into jelly.
He begins guiding me in a gentle rhythm, slow and deliberate, determined to make this last. His thrusts are deep, intentionally angling down to hit the spot that he knows makes me see stars.
"You feel so fucking good, so deep," I praise him and he slightly picks up the pace.
My core tightens around him involuntarily and he hisses, his grip on my hip becoming almost painfully tight.
"Fuck, don't do that. I'll come too fast," He pulls back slightly, trying to steady himself.
"I don't care," I push back against him again, just wanting to feel him.
He curses under his breath, his hands firm on my hips to stop my movements. He pulls me up by my hair, my back against his chest now and I laugh maniacally before moaning at the fresh angle.
"Must you always be so defiant?" His breath is hot against my ear and I can't help the grin on my face. I love getting him riled up.
"I like it when you push me around," I admit, my voice dripping with playful challenge.
He releases his grip on my hair, and I catch myself on my hands, bracing for whatever comes next.
"Yeah? You like it when I'm rough?" He presses, his voice low and taunting.
"Mhm," I hum pressing my hips back again but he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty.
I go to whine in protest but I'm shut up with the hardest slap of the night, right on top of the red mark he left before.
I cry out and bury my face into the sheets again, but quiver with longing for more.
"That's what you wanted, right?" He continues to taunt and spanks me again but this time, on the other side.
I moan and go to rub my clit for some sort of relief but he grabs both my wrists, knocking me down further.
Another smack. I groan this time in frustration.
He gathers my wrists in one hand as I feel him lean over me. His hand sneaks around to find my neck as he presses his mouth against my ear.
"Are you just that fucking desperate?" He queries, his fingers pressing into my pulse points, just enough for my head to lighten.
"Please, Matt." I plea, but don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.
"What's the matter, baby, you can't handle it anymore? Thought you liked me pushing you around," He tuts.
His free hand lifts my hips before he teases my entrance with his tip and I let out a shaky breath.
"Hm? Nothing to say?" He pushes his tip in but pulls back and I whine at the teasing.
He releases my neck to brush my hair away so he can see the side of my face. A reminder that he's still the caring Matt I love.
"Just fuck me, please," I beg and he sighs deeply.
"You're so fucking lucky I love you,” he says through his teeth before he drives into me again in one swift motion.
Both of us moan in relief, the tension finally being broken.
He grinds his hips down into me teasingly and my eyes roll back at the intense, tight angle.
I feel his body heat leave my back as he straightens out behind me. Placing his hands on my lower back, he leans forward causing my back to arch before slamming into me. Again and again and again.
Each breath is knocked out of me, and each blow is deeper than the last, discovering a new spot inside of me and pushing me closer and closer to the edge. His pace quickens with every approving sound I make, answering me with his own moans of approval.
He turns me onto my back, staying inside me, wrapping my leg around his waist before leaning forward to kiss me slowly.
"Mm, missed your face," he admits softly, his thrusts starting off slow but steadily increasing momentum. "Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come," he coos, and I shriek at a particularly hard thrust that sends me further up the bed.
He watches my face the entire time, studying every furrow, every eye roll, mirroring my expressions as if he can feel everything he is doing to me.
I can tell he's trying to distract himself, to last longer, slowing down to kiss me and then picking up the pace.
My second orgasm build-up is slower and more subtle. It almost comes out of nowhere, but he knows my body so well. He reaches down to stimulate my clit, deepening his strokes, driving me to the brink.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh-" My back arches, and my ears ring as my orgasm rips me apart.
"Good girl, fucking come for me–oh fuck. I'm coming–I'm gonna come. W-where do you want me to-" He rushes out, as my pussy continues to spasm around him.
Through my haze, I push my heels into his hips and grab the back of his neck.
"I-inside, come inside me," I pant and he shudders, whimpering.
"Oh my–fucking, fuck," He strains as he comes and I moan at the feeling of him filling me up.
He pushes as deep as he can inside me, and the aftershocks of my orgasm milk him further causing him to hiss.
He collapses into my collarbone, his hair drenched in sweat as he takes a moment to regain strength.
I place a hand in his hair and scratch his back lightly as we settle into a steady breathing rhythm.
"Holy fuck," he says eventually into my neck, laughing a little and I giggle too.
"Wait, wait don't laugh-" He pulls away with his face scrunched and I realize he's still inside me.
He hisses again in sensitivity, looking down at where we're connected before pulling out of me carefully. I whimper at the feeling and he softly apologizes.
I feel his come leak out of me and I watch his expression falter for a second as he notices the sight.
"Fuck me," he says under his breath, shaking his head and I bite my lip to stop myself from giggling.
I slowly reach my hand down to play with myself and his eyes widen as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me.
"Are you trying to kill me tonight? No, I'm cleaning you up and we're going to bed. Stay right there, don't fucking move." He gets up, pointing at me as he walks away.
I cover my mouth and laugh at his reaction. He comes back with a wet washcloth, using it to wipe me carefully.
He huffs out again, shaking his head and I give him a knowing look.
"Devil woman, don't look at me like that." He tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks with nerves.
"I love you," I tell him, meaning it. His eyes soften and he leans over me, a hand on either side of my head. He scans my face, a soft smile carves into his face before he leans down to kiss me.
"We really need our own place," he says when he pulls back and my stomach flips.
"What was that?" I ask him with wide eyes.
"I said we really need a shower, c'mon," He lies, laughing as he tries to pull me up but I'm tugging him back towards me.
'Hey, get back here. That's not what you said," I laugh at his antics but he runs away towards the bathroom before I hear him call back.
"I plead the fifth!"
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tiny-space-platypus · 2 months
Text
Never really fit back in
Part 2 Daniel or Danyal or Danny?
previous
Danyal took a deep breath. There was only one person who could bring him to his brother. One person who could get him into the Wayne household. Vlad Masters, his godfather, though things were getting better with Vlad it was still awkward. He doubted he'd ever fully trust him but he was the only adult around who knew what he was and at least for right now wasn't trying to kill him for it. Plus he had access to the Wayne Galas and as his heir Danny did too.
"Daniel" Vlad smiled at him and offered him a seat at his table. "I was quite surprised when you asked to have a meeting with me" Danyal took a seat as dinner was served to them. He hesitated before speaking. Danny had been trying to prepare what to say to Vlad all day but now he was here, his mind went blank.
"I-" He paused as he pursed his lips before stealing his nerves once again. "I'd like to take up your offer of being your heir." Vlad stopped moving for a second as his smile faltered. he stared at Daniel. The silence was deafening. Danyal continued or well rambled after an uncomfortably long few minutes of silence. "The Fenton household hasn't felt safe in.. Well it's never been safe but ever since my accident it's just gotten worse. The house is always attacking me, even though my parents- Even though Maddie and Jack know I'm Phantom now that hasn't stopped them- actually I think they've just been ignoring me. And-"
"Daniel,"
"Since Jazz left for college, I've only really had Sam and Tucker but-"
"Daniel"
"They're now busy preparing for their own futures and all that-"
"Daniel!" Vlad spoke a little louder silencing Danny again then sighed. "I will gladly take you in, Daniel. It's the least I can do for you" Danyal relaxed a bit, though not too much. Vlad might be better now but he's still a power hungry fruitloop. Danny still had to be careful but at least Vlad's manor wasn't actively trying to destroy him. At least Vlad acknowledged his existence. And so Danny's new life began.
A few new changes happened after he started to live with Vlad. One he changed his legal name to Danyal (it just felt more real), he and Vlad still argue over changing his last name over to Masters but Danny's not ready for that. Danny had to start taking etiquette classes from both Dorothy and Vlad, Vlad had gotten him plenty of suits and other more comfortable clothes, and Danny had full access to his lab. Though Danny didn't go down there often, it gave him the creeps in a bad way. Most labs did at this point. Instead he had taken over a large room and had a work desk where he tinkered on what ever her felt like tinkering on, or schoolwork, or the loads of paper work he had to do for the Infinite Realms. It was kind of nice having Vlad help with that though at least someone could explain what half of it meant and wasn't as secretive as Clockwork.
Four months passed and things were going great actually. Things were finally starting to feel alright again, maybe this was the best decision. Eventually Danny did tell Vlad about being Damian's brother only because he would have to confront Damian at the Wayne Christmas gala.
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Damian just like his other siblings dreaded the galas but they were important. It was important to keep building relationships with the public and the rich. It was important to keep a mask on and play the very rich found family of Brucie Wayne. It was important to keep their night life out of the picture.
Damian got ready with his siblings as usual. He listened and complained with them about the Gala as Jason laughed and praised being "dead". At least being the youngest meant he wasn't as bothered by the guests as the rest of his siblings were. All he had to do was introduce himself to the guests, have his picture taken a thousand times and lurk around the party. A boring night that would be much better spent on patrol. Though he was just has confident that the others could Patrol Gotham without them as his father.
The gala was about normal, he greeted guests with his father as Tim went out to do some networking. Dick playing as his usual self, Cass lurking around, Steph tormenting people by being her eccentric self, and Duke wandering around and making small talk. The night was normal till Masters arrived.
By that point Damian had broken off from his father and went to see and spend time with his siblings. Though something felt off after about a half hour. Damian went to report this to his father only to find him still speaking with Masters who had a boy with him. He paid no mind to him. "Father there's-" Damian paused then looked at the boy standing next to Masters who was smiling at him.
Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal. That was Danyal.
Damian just stared at Danny with a look of horror that his father caught quickly. Before Bruce could pull Damian away he heard his brother speak.
"Hello, Damian. It's nice to see you again"
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Bruce had never seen his son like that before. He had never seen that look on his son's face before. Something had to be wrong he just didn't know what yet. Bruce excused both himself and Damian from the Masters and brought Damian over to the others. He looked at his son who looked both terrified and shell shocked. Bruce spoke softly.
"Damian, are you alright chum?"
Damian started to hyperventilate and mumble in Arabic. Damian normally spoke in Arabic when upset but this was very clearly different. Bruce brought Damian to his room, not because he was in trouble but because he was freaking out and needed some quiet. That night for the first time Damian openly cried in front of Bruce. That night for the first time Damian held onto Bruce like his life depended on it and sobbed. That night for the first time Damian sobbed into his father.
Bruce didn't know what the Masters did to his son but they won't get away with it. That he swore. He'll have Tim and Barbara look into them later for now his son needs him.
Next
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nouearth · 9 months
Text
my favorite scent is you.
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bruce wayne x male reader.
summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).
wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.
notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.
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“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”
It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.
Just a little more, and you’ll break free.
It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.
“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”
“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”
“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”
Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”
“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 
“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”
“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”
“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.
“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.
“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”
“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”
“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 
“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 
“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.
You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 
He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.
“Let me take care of you now.”
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You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.
Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.
I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…
Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?
You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.
Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.
“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”
The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.
Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…
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The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 
As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.
Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.
Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.
After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.
“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.
White musk.
The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.
Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.
“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.
“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.
I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.
He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.
Again, as he throbbed.
And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 
Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.
The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).
His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.
“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.
He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.
Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”
Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.
What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.
Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.
I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.
He was close.
Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.
Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 
“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.
Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.
Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 
“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.
I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.
He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.
Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.
Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.
Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.
“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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mistywaves98 · 2 months
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Hii! Its my first time asking on here but could you do top!servant!scara with sub!noblelady!reader, also i dont know if you’re fine with writing corruption k!nks but if you are pls include that too ^-^ if not then completely disregard this part AHAHAH.
Also not related to the req but i love your works 😅 i
Aww thank youuu 🫶🫶
✧・゚:* ->Servant! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader
✧・゚:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Corruption kink, Praise, lots of praise!
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How you ran the estate inherited from your parents was beyond Scaramouche, with your weirdly optimistic views and naive tendency to try and see good in everything despite the cruel ways of society. It was so clear that you were overly sheltered as a child. Still, it was always a pleasure to work under you. And over you as well.
Your hands clawed at the sheets beneath you, hair splayed out around your face as Scaramouche absolutely ravaged your pussy. The slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of the gummy walls of your pussy reverberated throughout the space of your chambers. "Mmnh... Mistress, you've no idea how I've longed to do this to you... Fuck, you feel so good—" He barely manages to groan out as his hands rest on either side of your head.
It's felt like hours now since he finally caved into his desires, thrusting into your aching pussy with rhythmic jerks of his hips. It's truly not Scaramouche's fault, you know. Your innocence was just absolutely endearing, the fact you knew almost nothing about intimacy just making you all that much more corruptible. The soft expression that always adorned your face never failed to make his cock painfully hard. Oh, how he yearned to make those pretty eyes roll to the back of your head as he made himself at home within the confines of your tight cunt.
You look even better than he imagined, the needy noises slipping out of your throat as your plump lips part in pure pleasure are like music to his ears. The sight of you, splayed out under him and completely bare for his eyes alone sends Scaramouche into a frenzy as he fixates on the way your perky tits move each time he sinks his length back into you.
He suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and maneuvers them to rest over his shoulders. The sweet sound you let out as the blunt head of his cock meets your g-spot sends a shiver down his spine and he swears he just got hard all over again. You feel like you're seeing stars at this point, incoherent babbles and pleas leaving you as your hands reach up to cling to his back, manicured nails leaving crescent marks on the skin.
"Hn... You're so cute, y'know that? Taking my dick like a good girl...—Hngh— God, look at you..so cock drunk you can't even respond properly... You gonna cum? Yeah, that's it..make a mess for me.." He smirks as he feels you clench around him even more, practically suffocating him as he reaches between you both to rub gentle circles against your swollen clit, coaxing you towards orgasm.
His encouragement and extra stimulation makes the knot in your stomach tighten ever so slightly. You're so close... Release feels like it's right there, just getting closer, closer... You jolt as he suddenly delivers a sharp pinch to the sensitive bundle of nerves and that's all it takes to have you screaming his name for the nth time that night as your walls spasm around his cock. Scaramouche delights in the feeling of your cum coating his length as he buries himself inside you over and over again.
Your servant doesn't stop, simply slowing his pace a bit to help you ride out your high. He leans in and captures your lips in a tender yet possessive kiss, swallowing up your noises as his tongue slithers past your lips to explore the wet cavern that is your mouth,"Hmm.. Good girl, you're just as good at following orders as you are dishing them out... You looked so beautiful as you came, I want to see that expression of pure bliss again. Think you can give me just one more?"
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okkotsuus · 2 months
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"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !
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features: katsuki bakugo
contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k
notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.
tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)
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never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.
yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.
katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.
under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.
"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.
but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.
your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.
that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.
the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.
if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.
the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.
your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.
running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.
he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.
but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.
the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.
katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.
hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.
unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.
you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.
on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."
e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.
the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.
but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.
it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.
katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.
it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.
love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.
it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.
the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.
all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.
your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.
a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.
so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.
to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.
katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.
that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .
scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.
he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.
this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.
he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.
yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.
but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.
katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.
he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.
relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.
none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.
his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.
the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.
footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.
only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.
he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.
but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.
the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?
just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.
his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.
a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.
your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.
katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.
"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.
he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.
"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.
lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.
and you'd let him if he asked.
carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.
the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.
warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.
but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.
your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.
no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...
even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.
after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.
your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.
"then let me keep you safe."
carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.
but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.
he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.
with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"
"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.
shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.
"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."
never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.
that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.
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okkotsuus 24
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msmk11 · 2 months
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Best Friend's Mom Part Two
MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Word count: 5.6k
CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of absent parent, hints of angst, light smut in the middle, full smut at the end
Summary: You and Wanda had just slept together. You had just slept with your best friends' mom. But what happens after? Will the best night of your life be a one-time thing?
A/n: GUYS. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on part 1. I was so anxious to post it because I had never written for Wanda before, and I thought it was lowkey crap. But you guys have been so kind, and loving, and supportive, and it made my week. I was feeling a little bit of pressure to write this next part because part one did so well, but I'm happy with the finished product. I've also decided to have a part 3 and 4 to finish up this story because I want it to span the whole week of reader's spring break. I hope that you all enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list for this series just lmk.
Seriously all my love, MK <3
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There is something hot blowing on your neck when you first wake up, and your sleepy brain is a little more than confused. Through your bleary eyes you look for the source, and that’s when everything from the night before comes rushing back.
Wanda.
You and Wanda.
Sleeping together.
Not only are you currently sharing a bed with your two best friends’ mom, you slept with her.
What makes it worse? It was fucking amazing. And you want do it again.
You know you’re going to hell. You’d just crossed so many boundaries, and you aren’t sure Billy and Tommy will ever forgive you if they find out.
When they find out.
“Detka,”
Your racing thoughts, and also heart, comes to a halt at the soft whisper of Wanda’s own personal nickname for you- one that sounded so different less than 12 hours ago as you made her hoarse with pleasure.
Cautiously, you roll on your side to meet Wanda face-to-face. Even in the morning she looks so incredibly beautiful, with her red waves sprawled out on her pillow, her green eyes soft and warm, and her pink lips just a little swollen from the night before.
“What’s that pretty little mind of yours thinking about so early,” she asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
You lean into her touch and close your eyes, “You. Us. Last night.”
Her hand pulls away and you open your eyes, “Do you regret it, Detka?”
“No Wanda, of course not. I don’t. It’s just, this-“
“Makes things complicated?”
You sigh and nod. You chew on your lip anxiously as all the racing thoughts come back.
“Honey, stop,” Wanda says, placing her thumb on your bottom lip, “you’ll hurt yourself.”
She pulls you into her arms and places the softest, sweetest kiss against your lips. You melt into her embrace and decide to ignore all your problems for just a little longer. Anyways, how could anything really be wrong when Wanda holds you as if nothing could hurt you?
“We’ll figure it all out in time, baby. But for now, just lay with me for a while, yeah?”
You press a gentle kiss to her neck, an action that speaks far louder than any words, and snuggle closer into her. With her fingers running gently through your hair, and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat against your ear, you are lulled back into a dreamless sleep.
When you wake up a little while later, the spot next to you is cold, and you know that at some point Wanda slipped out while you were sleeping to avoid suspicion. You know she did the right thing, and that it’s for the best, but the secrecy of it all is just a little painful.
You shrug it off, however, and crawl out of bed. Until you can assess the state of your skin- Wanda’s mouth had been all over- you throw on sweats and a hoodie. As you traipse down the hall you’re met with the smell of pancakes and quiet chatter. Before you step into the kitchen, you admire the pretty picture before you- Wanda sat between her two boys at the table as they all eat pancakes and reminisce about the past. You almost feel bad ruining it.
Almost.
But your hunger wins out.
“She finally decides to join us,” Tommy teases as you step into the kitchen.
You stick your tongue out at him as you sit down to his right and begin to pile pancakes onto your plate.
“I was starting to worry that you were dead,” Billy adds, and you roll your eyes.
“I must’ve just been worn out,” you reply, briefly glancing at Wanda before looking down and shoveling food into your mouth.
“Did you not sleep okay, honey?”
You look up at Wanda again and notice a glint of mischief in her green eyes, “Just always a little restless sleeping in a new bed, but I fell asleep eventually.”
“You just let me know if I can do anything to help,” she says sweetly. And then, she winks.
You choke on your pancake a little and Tommy starts patting your back. When you finally get a little air back in your lungs you cough out, “okay, thanks, Wanda.”
She’s gonna be the death of you.
*****
The boys decide that the four of you will head into the beach town today to look around the shops and restaurants. You’re more than grateful for this, especially with the alternative being that you’d have to see Wanda in a bikini yet again.
You’re dressed simple in cutoff blue jeans and a plain white tank top, and you’ve tucked your hair under a white baseball cap. Wanda, it seems, is still trying to tease you, wearing the cutest flowy, white skirt with a maroon tank top. It’s maddening and you almost scoff at her audacity. If her boys weren’t with you, you’d probably drag her off to a bathroom right now and take her right then and there. Alas, they are, and so you have to practice self-control. It’s still easier than maintaining self-control around her in a swimsuit, so you feel grateful to walk around with your friends and fawn over little trinkets you absolutely do not need. You plan to do your very best to forget that Wanda’s even there, but she has other plans.
Wanda’s hands are all. over. you. all. day.
Mind you, all of her touches are subtle enough that Billy and Tommy would never suspect a thing. But they’re not subtle to you. You feel every touch tenfold, and it leaves you a little dazed after each interaction.
When you get to the first shop, a mini boutique, Billy, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for you and Wanda. The redhead doesn’t just motion for you to go inside first. No. Instead, she places her hand on the small of your back and guides you into the store, letting her hand linger a little near your ass until Billy and Tommy step inside.
At the book store, you find a copy of the romance novel you’ve been dying to read but couldn’t find anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s up on a high shelf that you can’t quite reach. Just as you turn to look for one of the twins, Wanda saddles up behind you touching your shoulder, “I got it, honey.”
She uses you as a balance as she stands on her tip toes and grabs you the book. It’s in your trembling hands the next moment and then she’s disappeared to another aisle.
The local thrift store in town is packed full of clutter. Realistically, only one person can walk down a row at a time because of how narrow they are. Wanda, of course, ignores this unsaid rule entirely, at least when it comes to you. As you sift through the racks upon racks of clothes, Wanda wonders over and begins to make small talk about your thrift finds. Then, without warning she says, “excuse me, honey,” and grabs your waist, shifting you so that she can pass by. Her tits rub up against your back when she does it, and you shiver.
The four of you have lunch at a cute cafe, and sit at a circle table on the outdoor patio. Unsurprisingly, you end up sitting next to Wanda, and her hand magically finds its way to your thigh. You desperately try to keep your cool throughout lunch and hope that your face isn’t too flushed. Near the end of the meal, her hand begins moving up and down your thigh, creeping a little closer to where you want her. You cough and stand abruptly, getting startled looks from your friends.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”
You rush inside and splash water on your face.
Throughout the day, even when Wanda isn’t touching you, she somehow always manages to drive you crazy. At the tourist shop, Wanda decides to try on a sweatshirt. When she’s taking it off, her shirt rides up a little and you see a little patch of her soft, beautiful skin. When you grab a treat from the ice cream shop, you nearly lose your mind as she licks whipped cream off her fingertip to “sample it.”
Wanda’s teasing is nonstop and relentless all afternoon. By the time you get back for dinner you’re a complete and utter mess. But you’re not guaranteed any relief because Billy and Tommy drag you away to swim. Even though you shoot Wanda a desperate glance, she only winks and gets back to cooking.
*****
The evening had been spent by the pool, getting out occasionally to eat a little, and then jumping back in. You competed in races with Tommy, dove for pool sticks, and convinced Wanda to join you three for Marco Polo. As night settles in, the air cools down and the pool becomes much too chilly to bear. Not wanting to go inside just yet, you move to the hot tub. As you sink into the bubbling, hot water you sigh loudly. Your tense muscles ease and you begin to regain some feeling in your chilled fingers and toes.
You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you call out goodnight to Billy and Tommy. Wanda goes in with them, taking the dishes to the kitchen, and you have to admit that you’re a little disappointed she doesn’t stay outside.
The door shuts with a resounding thud, and you are left alone with your thoughts. It’s quiet, and the only thing you can hear are the crickets chirping and the bubbling water in which you sit. You’re blanketed in darkness, even the moon asleep for the night, save for the stars that sprinkle the navy sky.
The peaceful evening soothes you, and you close your eyes. You hear the wooden door open and close again, and soft, padded footsteps across the deck. You’re too scared to open your eyes and see who it is- for fear of disappointment. This time, you’re not disappointed.
Eyes still closed, you feel soft lips capture yours and you gasp softly. When Wanda pulls away your eyes flutter open and you find hers staring back at you fondly. She hasn’t yet joined you in the hot tub, but is rather standing at its edge, leaning over to kiss you from upside down.
You smile softly at her, “Hey, Wanda.”
“Hi Detka. I missed you,” she whispers against your lips.
“You were with me all day.”
“Not in the way that I wanted to be.”
“Well you sure got your fair share of teasing in,” you fake scold, “did that satisfy you enough?”
She slowly shakes her and rasps, “no.”
“We’ll have to fix that then.”
Wanda walks around the hot tub to the stairs and wades into the water. She slowly, tantalizingly, makes her way towards you. You sigh out her name impatiently and then finally, finally, your lips connect. You grab her waist gently and pull her closer to you.
Wanda’s hands find a home in your hair as she tugs on it a little and you moan.
“God, I’ve been dying to touch you all day,” she murmurs.
“I could tell,” you pant, “such a fucking tease, grabbing my hips, touching my shoulders, rubbing my thigh. It’s too bad Billy and Tommy were there, or I would’ve had my way with you.”
“Not very nice to say about your best friends.”
“Hard to care about them when you’re in front of me,” you admit, “all beautiful, and interesting, and alluring.”
You press a final kiss to her lips and then pull away, kissing her cheek, then her jaw, then behind her ear, her neck, her collarbone, and then right between her tits.
You keep your mouth there, hoping to leave a mark behind that will be just out of sight when she wears a tank top or a revealing dress. She grabs your head and pushes it forward, burying it deeper in her chest. Her soft moans and sighs make you grip her waist harder, and you pull her onto your lap where you’re sitting in the hot tub. When you nip slightly at her skin she whimpers and you moan against her.
“You sound so pretty Wanda,” you tell her, voice muffled.
You place kisses back up her chest as your hands move downwards to squeeze her ass. She squeals a little and you press another kiss to her lips to silence her.
“Wanna see you, baby,” Wanda tells you.
Her hands creep around your back and slowly untie your swimsuit. Your top falls away revealing your tits to her. It’s too dark for her to see much, but she still whispers, “so beautiful, Detka.”
She leans forward and presses a kiss to each before reaching out and groping them. You throw your head back and sigh. It’s a relief, finally having her hands on you again after all the teasing. She slowly massages each of your tits and you pant, gripping her waist so tightly you’re surprised she hasn’t yelped in pain. When her thumb runs over your sensitive nipples, your hips buck up into hers.
“Wanda, I-“
“I know, baby.”
Just as she is leaning down to take you into her mouth the door to the house squeals open. You jump apart, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you cover yourself and sink lower into the water.
Tommy peaks his head out, “Guys, come watch a movie with us. We’ve got it queued up.”
You quietly groan.
Thankfully, Wanda responds for you both.
“Okay, moya lubov. We’ll dry off and be in.”
Tommy closes the door, and you groan much louder now, letting your head fall back against the hot tub in defeat.
Wanda chuckles lowly, “we’ll finish this another time, baby. Promise.”
You sigh and nod.
“Here, let me help you put this back on,” Wanda says kindly, picking up your discarded top.
You turn away from Wanda, and she wraps it back around you. She breathes on your neck as she ties it back in place, and her fingers just ghost over your back. You hold your breath, savoring every moment.
When she’s done, she places a kiss to your neck and pats your ass, “there, all done. Now let’s go watch this movie.”
*******
The rest of your evening had been 2 hours and 12 minutes of torture, and then bedtime. You’d sat in an armchair cuddled up to Tommy while Billy and Wanda had laid on the couch together. You don’t recall a single second of the movie because you had been too busy watching Wanda the whole time.
You adored the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, how her frown during sad scenes was a little crooked, and the way her brows furrowed together when a character was being particularly ridiculous. No matter what face she was making, she was beautiful. And you couldn’t understand how anyone could have been interested in watching a movie when the picture of grace herself had sat before you.
It was mind-numbing, the way Wanda seemed to consume every waking and sleeping second of your mind. There was nothing you could do to ease her from your thoughts, and she was so clearly not keen on helping you out either. You desperately wondered if you’d ever get another moment alone before you headed back to college in four days. If you didn’t, you weren’t sure what you’d do.
Was death by longing even a thing?
Your bed had been cold that night, and you weren’t sure how you’d ever slept without Wanda by your side. Her warmth eased your tense body, her arms kept you safe, her tender kisses reminded you you were alive, and her sweet words whispered into your ears filled your heart to the brim. You knew you were totally fucked, but in a state of denial, you hoped that just one more good fuck would get it out of your system.
The next morning is calm and peaceful, the late night before having kept everyone confined to their beds until a much later hour. You opt out of breakfast and instead lay sprawl out on your bed, fan blowing cool air on you and the windows cracked to hear the waves. You decide to finally start the new book you got in town, and you cozy up in your comforter excitedly.
You open the paperback and crack the spine a little with a resounding pop. This and the smell of fresh pages sends a shiver up your spine and you kick your feet happily. Your eyes eagerly scan the first few pages as you take in the plot, setting and characters. You can feel yourself slowly sinking into the magical fictional world before you and you feel triumphant. Finally, finally, you’ve found something that distracts you from Wanda.
And it does. For a little while. But about twenty pages in a flash of red hair crosses your mind. You shake it off and read another page. Green eyes pierce your vision. You blink it away rapidly. Her perfume seems to waft into your nose, and you stuff your face into your shirt. You try to persevere, but when you realize that you’ve read the same line about ten times now and have yet to process it, you know it’s hopeless. You’re never one to treat a book unkindly, but you’re so frustrated that you toss it across the room and bury yourself under your covers.
Since your brain seems so keen on it, you let yourself indulge in a fictional scene of your own- one of domestic bliss between you and Wanda.
It’d be a hot summer day, just like this one, and you and Wanda would be at your shared cottage home in the countryside. The fan would be humming softly above you while birds and bugs chirped and buzzed through the screened back door. You and Wanda would be on your long, white couch with colorful throws, bare legs tangled. It’d be too hot be fully dressed, so you’d each just be in a pair of underwear and the other’s shirt. Maybe Wanda had made you two some ice-cold lemonade that you sipped on slowly as you casually drew patterns on her leg. Wanda, on the other end, would have a book propped open. She’d be reading it to you, in that soft, sweet voice that makes you melt. When you’d get lost in her eyes instead of listening to her read, she’d playfully scold you.
You could almost hear her now saying, “Detka, Detka. Are you paying attention?”
It’s when an arm touches your shoulder that you realize the real Wanda is actually before you, talking to you.
You jolt and inhale quickly, “huh? What? Sorry I was daydreaming.”
She chuckles and you notice that she’s sitting on the edge of your bed as she smoothes out the wrinkled corners, “I just came to tell you that we’re going out for a nice dinner tonight and that our reservation is at 6:00. Do you have something to wear?”
You do, luckily, and you thank past you for thinking ahead, “yes, I have a few options to choose from. What time should I be ready by?”
Wanda thinks for a moment, “5:00 probably. I want to get some pictures of everyone dressed up too before we head out. And you know how my boys are about photos, always so particular.”
You snort out an understanding giggle, recalling the many times you've taken ‘unsatisfactory’ photos for your friends, and then having to redo them all.
Wanda stands then and smiles sweetly at you, “well, that’s all I had to say, but I’ll leave you to your daydreaming now.”
And when she’s sure no one is coming down the hall, she presses a few hurried kisses to your lips and then leaves the room and you, yearning for more.
*****
You decide to doll yourself up extra nice for the occasion and try to convince yourself it’s all for you and not… others.
You’re wearing flowy blue pants made of a silky material and a white tank top with a scoop neck and wide straps. A dainty gold necklace sits prettily against your collarbone and one or two gold bands rest on your fingers. Strappy white sandals are your shoe of choice, and you make sure to paint your toes a blue color similar to your pants. You keep your makeup simple, only a few swipes of mascara and a quick brush of your brows.
You head out into the living room and whistle lowly, “what a group we are.”
Tommy and Billy have dressed up rather nicely. The former is wearing a nice, short sleeve white shirt and khaki pants. Billy has on a nice red polo and black slacks.
Instead of rustling the boys’ hair like you usually would, you pat their cheeks like a fond grandmother, “look at you two, my boys. All handsome and grown up.”
You wipe away a fake tear and they roll their eyes at you, exasperated.
“I’m just glad you were able to dress up nice,” Tommy retorts, “instead of your usual sewer rat look.”
You scoff, more than offended, and this time do go to ruffle his hair, “did your mother never teach you manners?”
“She taught us to respect those who earned it. You haven’t yet,” Billy deadpans.
You smack his arm rather hard, and you don’t miss the way he winces and rubs the sore spot a little.
“Would it really kill you to tell me I look nice?” you ask, hands on your hips.
Billy dramatically groans, “fine, fine. You look… nice.”
You look at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.
“You know you look beautiful,” he replies, “do I need to say it?”
You sit on the arm of the couch next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “just feels nice to be appreciated sometimes.”
Tommy scoffs playfully, “as if we don’t spoil you rotten with attention.”
You wave him off dismissively and reach out to grab Billy’s hand, giving him a kind squeeze.
It’s in this warm embrace that Wanda finds you all when she emerges from her room. She looks absolutely breathtaking. Of course, she always does, but this. Wow.
Wanda has pulled her hair back into a slick bun and is wearing a slim-fitting, long green dress. It’s an emerald green that looks so nice against her pale skin, and the red lipstick on her lips makes them look even more kissable than usual. She has dangly silver earrings in, a chunky silver necklace, and a small chain bracelet for jewelry. You’re literally speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Well, how do I look?” She asks with a little spin.
Tommy stands and gives her a side hug, “beautiful as always, Mama.”
“The prettiest lady ever,” Billy agrees, joining his family on his mom’s other side. She presses tender kisses to the sides of each of their heads, a big beaming smile on her face.
“Honey, could you get a picture of us?” She asks you sweetly.
You simply nod, too dumb to talk, and take Tommy’s phone. They stand together, arms around each other, and they look like a perfect little family. Wanda is clearly so proud of her sons, and them so devoted and loving to their mother. It makes your heart ache, not only because of fondness but also regret.
Billy and Tommy have opened up to you about how hard it was for Wanda to put their lives and family back together after their dad left. And now, seeing them together, so happy and complete, you feel like an intruder. Out of place. And when you think about Wanda, you want her so badly. But you wonder if you want her enough to risk tearing down everything she’s worked so hard to build.
“There, that should be good,” you say quietly.
Wanda steps forward, “here let me get some pictures of you three.”
When she takes the phone from you, your fingers brush, and you jolt away a little. You try to play it off coolly and go stand in Wanda’s place between the two boys. You smile widely, your arms wrapped around each brother, but the ache is still a little present in your throat.
“Okay, I’ve got some,” the redhead tells you, “but I want a few with you too, honey,” she says, looking at you.
“But why, mom?” Billy asks.
“Well I have to document the best Chicken duo this world has ever seen,” she says with a teasing voice.
The boys groan simultaneously and roll their eyes.
“No need to rub it in, mom.”
She smirks a little as she goes to stand next to you.
“They’re just jealous,” she says, with a stage whisper.
And then, when they’re not paying attention, she actually whispers, “and stop worrying, Detka. Everything is going to be okay.”
“How did you-?”
She briefly glances at your lips and you realize that you’re chewing on them yet again. You stop immediately and she squeezes your side reassuringly. You face the camera and wrap your arm loosely around Wanda’s shoulders. This time, your smile is much more genuine.
*****
Dinner had been amazing. Red sauce pasta with a delightful layer of cheese, and rolls that seemed to be coming out as soon as a basket was emptied. You all had indulged in a little red wine too, and you felt perfectly relaxed and full. The night had been near perfect. But something was missing. Dessert.
You don’t have to go looking far, because it presents itself in the form of Wanda Maximoff, sitting there at dinner looking so delectable in her emerald green dress, teasing you with her sneaky looks and seductive red lips. It feels like ages since you’d last really touched Wanda, and you don’t think you can hold off much longer. You hope your eyes tell her so as the four of you sit around the living room coffee table playing various card games. Eventually, you feign a yawn, and proclaim that you are calling it a night- wine always making you a little sleepy.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. You are wide awake and alert. You waltz off down the hall, but you don’t go into your room. Instead, you take a turn into Wanda’s and quickly shut the door behind you. You wait for her on the soft, bouncy mattress.
It seems as if you’re waiting for Wanda for ages. But you suppose impatience on your end and her need to prevent suspicion only makes it seem so. Finally, you hear the faint creak of the floorboards coming closer and closer to the door. It cracks open and there she is in all her glory. She shuts it softly behind her and you both share a giddy smile like scheming little kids. She uses the door handle as a balance as she slips her heels off and tosses them to the side. Then, she reaches to her hair and pulls out all the clips and hair ties holding the bun together, and her long red waves cascade down her shoulders mesmerizingly. She slowly slinks towards you, drawing you in with her seductress powers. She slots herself between your legs at the edge of the bed and bends down to kiss you deeply.
You inhale sharply against her lips and hold her jaw with your hand. After a few deep kisses she breaks away and whispers, “take that shirt off for me pretty girl. I want to see you.”
To her surprise, and maybe even a little to yours, you say, “no.”
She raises her eyebrows in shock and then they furrow into worry, “do you not want this? I’m sorry if I misread the room I-“
You place a finger to her lips gently, “No, Wanda. You didn’t read anything wrong. I do want this. I want you. But I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanna take care of you. Is that okay? A woman like you should be worshiped.”
Her features soften into what you’d almost coin adoration, but you don’t get your hopes up.
She moves around the side of the bed and lays down up against her pillows, “okay baby, you take charge. Do whatever you want.”
You groan at how soft, and vulnerable, and open she is to you.
God, there are so many things you want to do to Wanda right about now. But what you need most is to taste her. You crawl up to Wanda and place yourself between her legs. You place your hands gently on the back of her neck and lean in for a tender kiss. It’s slow and deep and Wanda just sighs softly. Her hands find a home on your back as you continue to kiss her, slowly adding in tongue. As your hands begin to travel from her neck and down to her sides, just barely grazing her breasts, the kisses get a little more passionate and your breathing heavier. Like last night, you begin to trail kisses down her body. But this time, you don’t stop at her chest. You keep going, pressing kisses to her clothed stomach. When you get to her legs, you teasingly slide your hands up under her dress, fingers dancing around her ankles.
“I need you higher,” she rasps, and you smirk smugly just a little.
“Anything for you, gorgeous.”
You slowly push the hem of her soft, green dress upwards, revealing more and more skin as you go. You push it all the way up, letting the dress pool around her waist. You start at her ankles again, this time pressing soft kisses up her legs until your hot breath is on her thighs. She nearly whines at you being so close to touching her, and you giggle, “be patient, sweetheart. I’m almost there.”
And then with one or two more gentle kisses to her inner thighs, you place the softest, teasing kiss on her clothed center. That alone causes Wanda to moan, her hips bucking up into your face a little.
“Detka, please,” she sighs.
You grab the top of her underwear and pull it down her legs, tossing it across the room somewhere.
“Such a beautiful pussy, Wanda,” you sigh.
You lean forward and press another kiss to her, this time, bare cunt. You know she likes it because her legs squeeze your head encouragingly. You lick one strip up the middle and she moans so prettily you squeeze your own legs together. After you’ve gotten one taste, you’re ravenous. You immediately dive in headfirst, licking and sucking at her soft, pink pussy.
She continuously lets out sighs and moans of your name, honey, or Detka. You hold onto her thighs as you continue to eat her out and squeeze them gently, letting her know how good she’s doing. You can tell when Wanda starts to get close because she only gets wetter and wetter. She reaches down and grabs your hair roughly, shoving your face further into her pussy. She lets out a whine and her back arches, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“F-feels so g-good,” she stutters out.
You hum against her and you know it feels good because she lets out yet another moan. To get Wanda to her orgasm, you decide to double the stimulation. Your face moves downwards, sending your tongue in and out of her wet hole. Then, you add a finger to the mix, rubbing small tight circles on her clit quickly. Her back arches again at the newfound pleasure, and the grip she has on your hair is almost painful. But you don’t stop. You continue to thrust in and out while pinching and rubbing her clit. Her moans are so consistent and fairly loud that you’re a little worried her boys will hear. But you’re so lost in her pussy, and she in her pleasure, that you don’t care. With one final hard thrust of your tongue, Wanda plummets over the edge. Her thighs squeeze tightly around your head and your hair is wrapped around her fingers in a coil. Her back arches off the bed significantly and her body shakes in waves of pleasure. The pretty little whines and moans she lets out as she comes makes you want to instantly go for round two. But you don’t, letting her come back down from her high. When she does, she looks a little dazed.
“Well?” You ask slyly.
“Detka,” she sighs, and then she pulls you upward by the shirt and passionately kisses you. When she tastes herself on your lips, she moans again.
You and Wanda are all over each other for quite awhile, and you’re both left feeling pretty fucked out and spacey. Everything with her felt and feels so good. And you know you’re ruined for anyone else. You lay on her bare chest, legs intertwined, and she strokes your back softly. Your eyes flutter shut at her featherlight touches and you’re sure you could fall asleep right then and there. Paired with her slow, quiet breathing, you are in bliss.
“You’re so perfect and beautiful, Detka,” she whispers into your ear.
It tickles and you shiver a little. You place an affirming kiss on her bare chest and snuggle in closer to her side. And as she holds you, as you begin to fall asleep in her arms yet again, you know for sure now that you are fucked. You know then that you are not just attracted to Wanda. You have feelings for her. And the once pleasurable, fluttering butterflies in your stomach are replaced by a big, solid rock.
______________________________________________________________
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starskq · 3 months
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FAMILY / J.Y
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Pairing ◊ fem!reader x yunho
Genre ◊ VERRYYYY SUGGESTIVE, toe curling fluff, established relationship
Warnings ◊ VERRYY SUGGESTIVE, yunho is a bit of a tease here, dirty talk, softdom!yunho, yunho is just so soft, mention of marriage and kids, mention of family (grandparents, uncles, cousins, siblings, parents, etc.)
Word count ◊ 8,2k
Summary ◊ You and Yunho had been dating for a few years, and it was time for you to introduce him to your family.
a/n: I love yunho with my whole heart, and i kept giggling while writing this huhu. Enjoy!
You sat on the couch, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. The room was warm, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. You had been thinking about this moment for days, rehearsing in your head how you would bring it up to Yunho. The invitation to your mom's birthday was tucked away in your purse, a constant reminder of the conversation you needed to have.
Yunho walked into the living room, a cheerful smile lighting up his face as he plopped down beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Hey, babe," he said, his voice as bright and warm as his smile. "What's up? You seem a bit on edge."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Yunho, I need to talk to you about something."
His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he tilted his head, a puppy-like expression that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. "Sure, anything. What's on your mind, love?"
You reached into your purse, pulled out the invitation, and handed it to him. He took it, glancing down at the elegant script on the front. "An invitation?" he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"It's for my mom's birthday," you explained, your voice trembling slightly. "She and the rest of my family have invited us to spend the weekend at my childhood house."
Yunho's face lit up with excitement. "That sounds amazing! I'd love to meet your family and see where you grew up." He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. "But why do you look so nervous about it, sweetheart?"
You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. "It's just... we’ve been together for a few years now, but I haven't had the chance to introduce you to my family yet. We live so far away; this is the first real opportunity to do it."
Yunho's expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "Hey, it's okay. I understand. It's a big step, but I'm really excited about it. I want to meet the people who mean so much to you."
You looked into his eyes, finding comfort in his unwavering gaze. "I guess I'm just worried. What if they don't like you? What if it's awkward?"
He chuckled softly, his laughter a soothing balm to your anxious heart. "Babe, your family is going to love me. How could they not? I'm very lovable." He gave you a playful wink, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"I know you are," you said, smiling despite yourself. "But it's still a little scary."
Yunho pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around you. "We'll face it together, okay? And no matter what happens, I'll be right there by your side."
You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. "Thank you, yuyu. I don't know what I'd do without you."
He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. "You don't have to worry about that, my love. I'm not going anywhere."
You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the warmth of his embrace chasing away your fears. When you finally pulled back, Yunho's eyes were bright with excitement. "So, when do we leave for this big family weekend?"
"Next Friday," you said, your voice steadier now. "We'll drive down after work."
He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perfect. I've got a whole week to plan how to charm your family."
You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. "You don't need to plan anything, Yunho. Just be yourself. That's more than enough.’’ He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours. You really had the best boyfriend ever. 
Friday arrived pretty quickly, quicker than you anticipated. You loaded the last of the bags into the trunk of the car, taking a deep breath as you closed it. Yunho was busy adjusting the GPS, and his usual cheerful demeanor made the process seem more fun than it probably was. You climbed into the passenger seat, your nerves still buzzing beneath the surface.
Yunho looked over at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, squeezing your hand.
You nodded, trying to muster a smile. "Yeah, I guess so."
He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "Don't worry. It's going to be great. We'll have a fantastic time."
As he started the car and pulled out of the driveway, you looked out the window, your mind racing. The drive to your childhood home was long, giving you plenty of time to think. Yunho, always perceptive, sensed your anxiety and reached over to hold your hand, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your skin.
"Tell me more about your family," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "I want to know everything."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Well, my mom is amazing. She's warm and caring but can be a bit overprotective sometimes. She's been looking forward to meeting you ever since I told her about us."
Yunho smiled, his eyes focused on the road. "She sounds wonderful. I can't wait to meet her."
"And my dad," you continued, "he's a bit more reserved, but once he warms up to someone, he's really funny and kind. He loves talking about his hobbies, especially fishing and gardening."
"Fishing and gardening got it," Yunho said with a nod. "I'll have to brush up on my knowledge about those."
You laughed, feeling a bit lighter. "He'll appreciate that. Then there's my younger sister, Mia. But you already know her."
‘’Yeah, I remember. The future artist." Yunho said with a playful grin.
You smiled. Your lilttle sister and Yunho already met when she came to visit you during a weekend. You knew they got along great, so you did not worry about that. ‘’And my older brother, Daniel, he's a bit of a jokester. He likes to tease, but it's all in good fun. He's really protective, though, so don't be surprised if he tries to give you a hard time at first."
"I can handle a bit of teasing," Yunho said confidently. 
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "And then there's my extended family. My Uncle John and Aunt Clara, they practically raised me alongside my parents. Uncle John loves sports, especially baseball, and Aunt Clara is really into cooking and baking."
"Baseball and baking, got it. I think I can manage," Yunho said, his tone light and reassuring.
"And there are my cousins, Sam and Emily. They're twins, a few years younger than me. They're both really outgoing and love to have fun. They might drag you into some of their crazy plans. And my grandparents. They are not that old, but they are old school.’’
Yunho laughed, the sound filling the car with warmth. "I look forward to it. Sounds like a lively bunch."
You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "Yeah, they are. I just hope they all like you as much as I do."
Yunho glanced over at you, his eyes filled with affection. "I think they'll love me, but even if they don't, as long as I have you, that's all that matters."
You couldn’t help but smile. He had this capacity with you to make you smile constantly. The rest of the drive was filled with more stories and laughter as you briefed Yunho on your family dynamics and shared memories from your childhood. The closer you got to your old home, the more your nerves settled, replaced by a growing excitement to share this part of your life with Yunho.
Finally, you turned onto the familiar tree-lined street, the house you grew up in coming into view. It looked just as you remembered, the front yard meticulously maintained, the porch swing swaying gently in the breeze. Yunho parked the car and turned to you with a big smile.
"Ready to do this, babe?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine excitement.
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. "Yeah, let's do this."
You walked up to the front door with the bags in your hands. It swung open, revealing your mom's warm smile. She stepped out onto the porch, arms wide open. "There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "We were starting to think you'd forgotten the way home."
You laughed, the sound mingling with the nostalgic scent of your mom's favorite lavender perfume. "Hi, Mom. It's good to see you."
She pulled back, her eyes shining with joy. "It's about time you came to visit. We miss you, you know."
Your dad appeared behind her, his expression softer but equally welcoming. "Yeah, kiddo," he said, giving you a hug after your mom let go.
"I know, I know," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with happiness. "Life's just been so busy."
"Busy enough to forget your old folks?" your dad teased, ruffling your hair affectionately.
You rolled your eyes, laughing. "I could never forget you guys."
Yunho stood behind you, holding a beautifully wrapped gift. He shifted slightly, drawing your parents' attention. "Mom, Dad," you said, stepping aside and gesturing towards him, "this is Yunho."
Yunho took a step forward, a cheerful but slightly nervous smile on his face. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n. It's so great to finally meet you."
Your mom's eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth. "Oh, we've heard so much about you, Yunho. It's lovely to meet you, too."
Yunho extended the gift to her, his hands steady despite the subtle tension in his posture. "I brought this for you, Mrs. y/l/n. I hope you like it."
Your mom's face lit up as she took the gift. "Oh, Yunho, you didn't have to! But thank you so much." She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a beautifully handcrafted vase. "This is gorgeous. Did you pick this out yourself?"
Yunho nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yes, I did. I thought it might go well with the flowers in your garden."
Your dad stepped forward, offering a firm handshake. "Good to meet you, Yunho. And thanks for the gift. It's very thoughtful."
Yunho shook his hand, his grip confident. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I've heard so many wonderful things about both of you."
Your dad chuckled, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "All good things, I hope?"
Yunho laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. "Absolutely. Y/n always speaks very highly of you."
Your mom looped her arm through yours, leading you both into the house. "Well, we're just glad to finally meet you. And Yunho, please call us by our first names. We're family now."
As you walked through the familiar hallways, the smell of home-cooked food wafting through the air, Yunho leaned closer to you and whispered, "I think that went well, don’t you?"
You squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of affection. "You were perfect," you whispered back.
Your mom placed the vase on the counter in the kitchen, already thinking about which flowers to fill it with. "Yunho, would you like something to drink? We've got lemonade, iced tea, and coffee."
"Lemonade sounds great, thank you," Yunho replied, his smile genuine.
Your dad gestured towards the living room. "Let's sit and chat for a bit before everyone else gets here. I want to hear all about how you two met."
Yunho's eyes met yours, a spark of excitement and slight nervousness in them. "Well, it's a bit of a funny story," he began as you all settled into the comfortable, worn couches.
Your mom handed Yunho a glass of lemonade, and he took a sip before continuing. "We actually met at a coffee shop. Y/n was there with a mutual friend, and I kind of fell in love at first sight."
Your mom's eyes softened as she looked at you. "That sounds just like something out of a movie."
You felt your cheeks warm, embarrassed but happy. "It was pretty special," you admitted.
Your dad leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And how long have you two been together?"
"Three years now," Yunho said, glancing at you with a look that made your heart flutter. "And they've been the best years of my life."
Your mom reached out to squeeze your hand. "We're so happy for you both. You look so good together."
Yunho beamed, his confidence growing. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
Your dad nodded in agreement. "Yes, we're glad to see our y/n so happy. And Yunho, you seem like a great fit for our family.’’
As the afternoon sun descended towards the horizon, the rest of your family started to arrive. The doorbell rang, and you felt a familiar rush of excitement. "That must be Mia," you said, standing up. Yunho followed you to the door, eager to meet everyone else.
You opened the door to find your younger sister, Mia, standing there with a wide grin. "Sis!" she squealed, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug.
"Mia!" you responded, hugging her back just as tightly. "I've missed you so much!"
Yunho stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Hey, Mia! Great to see you again."
Mia let go of you and gave Yunho a big hug. "Yunho! It's been a while. How have you been?"
"I've been great," Yunho said, his cheerful demeanor making Mia laugh. "How about you? Still painting up a storm?"
"Always," Mia replied with a wink. "And I've got a new piece to show you guys. I brought some pictures."
You all moved back into the living room, where Mia showed you her latest artwork on her phone. Yunho admired each piece, genuinely interested and supportive, which made Mia proud.
Just then, the front door opened again, and you heard the unmistakable voice of your older brother, Daniel. "Is that my little sister I hear?"
You stood up, a mix of excitement and apprehension in your chest. "Daniel!" you called out, meeting him halfway for a hug.
"Hey, kiddo," he said, his voice warm but his eyes scanning the room. When he spotted Yunho, his expression grew more serious. "And you must be Yunho."
Yunho stood up, extending a hand. "Yes, nice to meet you, Daniel."
Daniel took his hand, his grip firm. "So, you're the guy who's been taking care of my sister."
"That's right," Yunho said, maintaining eye contact and matching Daniel's firmness. "She's very important to me."
He nodded slowly, his gaze scrutinizing. "Well, it's good to finally meet you. Let's see if you can keep up with our family's shenanigans."
Yunho smiled, the challenge in Daniel's tone not going unnoticed. "I'll do my best."
Your mom called everyone to the kitchen, where snacks and drinks were laid out. As you all gathered around the kitchen island, the atmosphere began to relax. Yunho chatted easily with Uncle John about the latest baseball game, and Aunt Clara was already discussing her favorite recipes with him, thrilled to find someone who appreciated good food as much as she did.
Sam and Emily, your cousins, arrived next. They bounded into the house with infectious energy, their laughter filling the room. "Hey, cuz!" Sam called out, pulling you into a hug. "Long time no see!"
"Emily, Sam, it's great to see you guys!" you said, hugging Emily next.
They turned their attention to Yunho, curiosity in their eyes. "So, this is the famous Yunho?" Emily asked, a teasing smile on her lips.
"That's me," Yunho replied with a grin. "I've heard a lot about you two."
"All good things, I hope," Sam said, shaking Yunho's hand.
"Definitely," Yunho said, laughing.
Emily nudged Yunho playfully. "We might have to put you through a few tests to see if you can keep up with us."
Yunho's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Bring it on. I'm ready."
As the evening progressed, Yunho fit right in with your family. He joined in on the laughter, participated in the friendly teasing, and even helped your mom in the kitchen, much to her delight. At one point, you found yourself standing back, watching him interact with everyone, and you felt a swell of pride and affection.
The house buzzed with conversation and laughter, the air filled with the comforting smells of your mom’s cooking. Emily nudged you playfully, glancing over at Yunho who was deep in conversation with Uncle John about last night's baseball game.
“You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was so handsome,” Emily whispered, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Seriously, where did you find him?”
You chuckled, feeling a bit of pride. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Emily sighed dramatically. “I need to start hanging out at coffee shops more often.”
Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again, signaling the arrival of your grandparents. You excused yourself and walked over to the door, your heart swelling with affection as you opened it to see their familiar faces.
“Grandma, Grandpa!” you exclaimed, hugging them both tightly. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your grandpa said, his voice gruff but warm. “Now, where’s this young man I’ve been hearing so much about?”
You guided them into the living room, where Yunho was now chatting with your dad. “Grandma, Grandpa, this is Yunho.”
Yunho stood up, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he extended his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir, ma’am.”
Your grandpa took Yunho’s hand, his grip firm as he sized him up. “So, you’re the one courting my granddaughter, eh?”
Yunho swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, sir. I care about her very much.”
There was a tense moment of silence before your grandpa’s face broke into a wide grin. “Well, as long as you keep treating her right, we won’t have any problems.” He clapped Yunho on the back, laughing heartily.
Yunho let out a relieved breath, smiling. “I promise, sir. She means everything to me.”
Your grandma stepped forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. “And such a handsome young man,” she said, patting Yunho’s cheek. “You’re just as charming as she said.”
Yunho’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he laughed nervously. “Thank you, ma’am. You’re too kind.”
As everyone settled back into their conversations, you could see Yunho visibly relaxing. He had navigated through your grandpa’s initial test and won over your grandma with his charm. Your heart swelled with affection and pride.
Your mom called everyone to the dining table for dinner. The table was laden with a feast that your mom had spent hours preparing. As everyone found their seats, Yunho helped your grandma to her chair, earning another appreciative smile from her, before pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat beside you. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, and you felt a wave of warmth wash over you.
Your dad started the conversation as your mom brought out the dishes. "So, Yunho," he said, leaning forward with interest, "tell us a bit about what you do for a living."
Yunho smiled, glancing at you before answering. "I work as a software engineer. I develop applications and systems for a tech company."
Your dad raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. "That sounds like a challenging job. How did you get into that field?"
"I've always been interested in technology," Yunho explained, his enthusiasm evident. "I started learning to code as a teenager and fell in love with it. I went on to study computer science in college, and I've been working in the field ever since."
"That's fantastic," Uncle John said, nodding appreciatively. "Technology is such a big part of our lives now. You must be very talented."
"Thank you," Yunho said, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. "I enjoy what I do, and it's always rewarding to solve problems and create something useful."
Emily leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Yunho, what's it like dating my cousin? She's always been a bit of a handful."
You shot her a playful glare, but Yunho laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's never dull, that's for sure. But in all seriousness, she's the most amazing person I've ever met. I'm very lucky to have her in my life."
You felt your heart swell at his words and squeezed his hand under the table. He turned to you with a soft smile, his eyes full of affection.
Mia chimed in, her voice full of curiosity. "Yunho, do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do in your free time?"
"I enjoy a lot of things," Yunho said, his face lighting up. "I like dancing, playing the guitar, and I dabble in cooking, though I'm nowhere near as good as your mom."
Your mom beamed at the compliment. "That's lovely to hear. Maybe we can have a cooking session together sometime."
"I'd love that," Yunho replied sincerely.
Your dad then asked, "What's the most challenging project you've worked on?"
Yunho thought for a moment. "I once worked on a project to develop a new security system for a large corporation. It involved a lot of complex coding and troubleshooting, but in the end, it was very rewarding to see it all come together."
"That's impressive," Daniel said, a hint of respect in his voice. "Security systems are no joke."
Yunho’s natural charm and humor began to shine through as the conversation flowed. He shared funny anecdotes from work and college, making everyone laugh with his witty comments and endearing stories.
At one point, you reached for the bread basket, but before you could, Yunho had already passed it to you, anticipating your need. Your mom noticed and smiled warmly. "You two make a great team," she said.
Yunho grinned, looking at you with adoration. "I try to keep her happy."
"You're doing a wonderful job," your grandma said, her eyes twinkling. "And I have to say, you're quite the catch, Yunho. Handsome, intelligent, and attentive."
Yunho's cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. "Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that."
As the main course was served, Yunho continued to engage with your family, asking questions about their interests and sharing stories of his own. His attentiveness and genuine interest in getting to know everyone were clear, and your family responded warmly to him.
"Do you play any sports, Yunho?" Sam asked between bites of mashed potatoes.
"I enjoy playing soccer," Yunho replied. "I used to play in a league back in college. It’s a great way to stay active and have fun."
"Soccer, huh?" Uncle John said. "We should have a family match sometime. What do you think, y/n?’’
You laughed. "I'd love that, but you know I'm terrible at sports."
"We'll go easy on you," Daniel teased.
As dessert was brought out, your mom's famous apple pie, the conversation took a more relaxed turn. Yunho leaned closer to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Are you having a good time, love?’’ he whispered.
You nodded, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Yes. Thank you for being so wonderful."
He smiled, his eyes sparkling. He leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "Anything for you."
As everyone settled into dessert, your grandpa cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Yunho," he began, his tone serious but with a twinkle in his eye, "there's something I've been wondering about."
Yunho straightened in his chair, giving your grandpa his full attention. "Yes, sir?"
"When are you planning to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage?" your grandpa asked, his eyes moving between you and Yunho with a knowing look.
You felt a wave of heat rush to your face, and you quickly took a sip of your drink, trying to compose yourself. Before you could answer that you were still young and didn’t want Yunho to feel pressured, Yunho spoke up, his voice steady and confident.
"Actually, sir," Yunho said, his eyes meeting your grandpa's without hesitation, "that's in my plans very soon."
You choked on your drink, coughing as you tried to process what he had just said. Yunho reached out to pat your back gently, a smirk playing on his lips. "Careful there, sweetheart," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.
The room went silent for a moment, everyone looking at Yunho with a mix of surprise and anticipation. Your mom's eyes were wide with excitement, and your dad leaned forward, clearly interested in Yunho's response.
"You've thought about this already?" your grandpa asked, his voice softer now, more thoughtful.
"Yes, I have," Yunho replied, his gaze now shifting to you. His eyes were filled with love and certainty. "I love [Your Name] more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I've been thinking about how to make it special and memorable."
Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of shock and overwhelming happiness. You looked at Yunho, unable to believe what you were hearing. He gave you a reassuring smile, his hand finding yours under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Your grandma clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Oh, Yunho, that's wonderful to hear! You have our blessing, of course."
Your dad nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "It's clear how much you care for her. Just make sure to treat her well, always."
"I promise, sir," Yunho said earnestly. "She means the world to me, and I will do everything in my power to make her happy."
Mia leaned over, her eyes wide with excitement. "This is so romantic! I can't believe this is happening!"
Daniel, who had been watching Yunho closely, finally broke into a grin. "Well, Yunho, it looks like you've got a lot of support here. Just remember, I'm still watching you," he added with a playful wink.
Yunho laughed, his confidence unwavering. "I'll remember that, Daniel."
Your grandpa raised his glass, a gesture that everyone quickly followed. "To Yunho and y/n,’’  he said, his voice filled with warmth. "May your future be filled with love and happiness."
"To Yunho and y/n’’ everyone echoed, raising their glasses in celebration.
You looked at Yunho, your heart bursting with love and gratitude. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "I hope that was okay," he whispered. "I didn't want to put you on the spot, but I wanted your family to know how serious I am about us."
You nodded. "It was perfect," you whispered back. "I love you."
"I love you too," he replied, his eyes shining with sincerity.
As everyone resumed their conversations, the atmosphere now even more joyous, you realized how truly lucky you were. Yunho had not only won over your family but had also shown you just how deeply he cared. 
The evening had wound down, and the dining room was a happy mess of empty plates and half-finished desserts. You and your mom had started cleaning up, bringing dishes into the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. The warm glow of the kitchen lights cast a cozy atmosphere, and the sounds of laughter and conversation from the living room drifted in.
You were at the sink, rinsing off a stack of plates, when you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist. Yunho's chest pressed against your back, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. "Hey, beautiful," he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.
You leaned into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day melt away. "Hey yourself," you replied, smiling. "I didn't realize you were so sneaky."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I couldn't resist. You looked too cute standing here, working so hard."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "Well, someone has to clean up this mess. And don't think I didn't notice you charming everyone out there."
"Just doing my best to fit in," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Did it work?"
"You know it did," you said, turning your head to catch his eye. "Everyone loves you. Even Grandpa."
"Grandpa's great," Yunho said with a smile. "But I have to say, your Grandma might be my favorite. She wouldn't stop talking about how handsome I am."
You laughed, shaking your head. "She does have a knack for making people feel special."
Yunho's arms tightened around you, and he nuzzled your neck. "Speaking of making people feel special, how are you holding up? It's been a big day."
You sighed, leaning into his warmth. "It's been amazing. I'm so happy everyone got to meet you. And what you said at dinner... I didn't see that coming."
He smirked, his breath tickling your ear. "I like to keep you on your toes."
"You definitely do," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "But it was perfect. I love you so much."
"I love you too," he whispered, kissing your neck. "And I meant every word. I'm serious about us."
You turned in his arms, facing him. "I know you are. And that makes me so happy."
He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "You make me happy, every single day."
You kissed him softly, feeling the world fade away for a moment. You were lost in the moment, it was usual when you and Yunho kissed. His hands cradled your face, and you felt wrapped up in his love and warmth. The sound of the door swinging open barely registered until you heard a familiar, teasing voice.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” your mom said, her voice filled with amusement.
You broke the kiss, stepping back from Yunho, your face heating up with a blush. “Mom!” you exclaimed, trying to sound more composed than you felt.
Mia stepped into the kitchen behind your mom, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like someone’s getting a head start on the honeymoon,” she teased, winking at you.
You felt your cheeks grow even hotter. “Mia! Seriously?”
Yunho, ever the charmer, grinned at them both. “Just making sure your sister knows how much I appreciate her,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere.
Your mom chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, we can see that. But Yunho, could you help Grandma with her luggage? She’s staying in the guest room, and I think she could use a strong pair of hands.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Yunho said, immediately stepping away and heading towards the living room. “I’ll take care of it right away.”
As he left the kitchen, your mom and Mia turned their full attention to you, their faces lit up with matching grins. “You’ve got yourself a keeper there,” your mom said, her voice full of warmth. “He’s tall, handsome, and so intelligent. What a catch!”
Mia nodded enthusiastically. “And did you see how he just swooped in to help Grandma? Total gentleman.”
You couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering embarrassment. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”
Your mom gave you a knowing look. “Pretty amazing? Honey, he’s more than that. He’s head over heels for you. The way he looks at you… it’s like you’re the only person in the room.”
“And he’s funny, too,” Mia added, leaning against the counter. “He had everyone laughing all through dinner. You’re really lucky.”
You nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude and happiness. “I know. I feel really lucky to have him.”
Your mom patted your arm affectionately. “You deserve someone who treats you well and makes you happy. And Yunho seems like he’s doing just that.”
Mia nudged you playfully. “So, when’s the wedding? I need to plan my outfit.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’’
Your mom’s eyes softened, a look of pride and happiness on her face. “Just remember to take things at your own pace. We’re all here to support you, no matter what.”
Mia wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “And we’ll be the best wedding planning team ever, when the time comes. No pressure, but I’m really looking forward to it.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth and love from your family surround you. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot to know you’re all here for me.”
The evening had finally quieted down. The house was still, save for the occasional murmur of conversation from inside. You stepped out onto the porch, seeking a moment of peace under the stars. The cool night air was refreshing, and the gentle creak of the porch swing was a comforting sound.
You spotted your grandma, wrapped in a cozy shawl, already seated on the swing. She looked up and smiled as you approached. "There you are, dear. Come sit with me."
You settled onto the swing beside her, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume wrapping around you. "Hi, Grandma. I needed a little break from the chaos."
She chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "It’s been quite the evening, hasn’t it? But a wonderful one."
You nodded, feeling a wave of contentment. "It has been. I’m so happy everyone got to meet Yunho. And I’m really glad you like him."
"Like him?" she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Oh, dear, I more than like him. He’s a wonderful young man. You’ve found someone very special."
Your heart swelled with gratitude. "Thank you, Grandma. That means a lot to me. He’s been so amazing, and tonight… it just felt perfect."
She patted your hand gently. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear. Watching you tonight, seeing the way Yunho looks at you… it’s clear how much he loves you."
You blushed, but her words filled you with joy. "I love him too, Grandma. More than I can put into words."
Your grandma smiled, her gaze turning wistful. "Love is a beautiful thing. It’s about finding someone who makes your heart feel at home, who supports you, and who you can share your life with."
You looked at her, feeling a surge of affection. "Like you and Grandpa?"
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with memories. "Exactly like that. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve always been there for each other. That’s what matters most."
You squeezed her hand, feeling a deep sense of connection. "Thank you, Grandma. For everything."
She smiled, her expression soft. "I’m just so proud of you, my dear. And I’m thrilled to see you so happy."
Just then, the porch door creaked open, and Yunho stepped out, his eyes searching the dimly lit space. When he spotted you, he smiled warmly. "There you are. I’ve been looking for you."
Your grandma caught the hint immediately. "Well, it looks like I should give you two some time alone." She patted your hand one last time before standing up. "Goodnight, Yunho. Thank you for a lovely evening."
"Goodnight, ma’am," Yunho replied, giving her a respectful nod. "It was a pleasure."
As your grandma made her way back into the house, Yunho walked over to the swing, sitting down beside you. "I missed you," he said softly, taking your hand in his.
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. It’s been such a wonderful evening."
He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. "It really has. Your family is amazing. And your grandma… she’s something special."
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "She really is. She’s always been a source of wisdom and love for me."
Yunho kissed the top of your head, his voice filled with affection. "I can see where you get it from."
The night air felt cool and refreshing as you nestled against Yunho's shoulder on the porch swing. The stars above sparkled, and the soft hum of crickets filled the silence. Yunho's arm around you provided a comforting warmth, and you felt a sense of contentment wash over you.
Yunho broke the silence first, his voice playful. "So, what do you think? Did I pass the family test?"
You laughed softly, looking up at him. "You passed with flying colors. They absolutely adore you."
He smirked, leaning in closer. "Even your Grandpa? I thought he might have been ready to grill me a bit more."
"You handled him perfectly," you said, smiling. "You handled everyone perfectly."
"Well, I had to impress my future in-laws," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You blushed, playfully swatting his arm. "Yunho!"
He laughed, pulling you closer. "What? It’s true. I meant every word I said at dinner. I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted."
You gazed up at him, feeling a rush of emotions. "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted too, Yunho."
He grinned, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. "So, when are we setting the date?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re really jumping ahead, aren’t you?"
"Just planning ahead," he said, winking. "I need to make sure everything is perfect for my perfect girl."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You’re impossible, you know that?"
"And you love me for it," he replied, giving you a quick kiss.
You sighed happily, resting your head back on his shoulder. "I do. I really do."
He chuckled, his voice softening. "Seriously, though. I want to make you happy. And I can’t wait to build a life with you."
You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of love. "You already make me happy, Yunho. More than you know."
He smiled, looking thoughtful for a moment. "So, have you ever thought about what kind of wedding you’d want?"
You blushed again, caught off guard. "Well, maybe a little. Something simple, I think. Surrounded by family and friends. Nothing too extravagant."
"I can see that," he said, nodding. "Simple, but beautiful. Just like you."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, poking his side gently.
He laughed, his eyes shining with affection. "Good to know."
There was a comfortable pause, the swing gently swaying as you both enjoyed the peaceful night. Yunho broke the silence again, his voice teasing once more. "And what about kids? Ever thought about that?"
You felt your cheeks heat up. "Wow, you really are planning everything, aren’t you?"
"Just curious," he said, smirking. "I think you’d be an amazing mom."
You smiled, feeling a warm glow inside. "I think you’d be an amazing dad."
His expression softened, and he kissed your forehead. "I hope so. But one step at a time, right?"
"Right," you agreed, feeling the excitement of the future you both envisioned.
Yunho’s teasing grin returned. "But seriously, I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress. You’re going to look breathtaking."
You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re too much, Yunho."
"Only for you," he said, his eyes filled with love. "Because you’re worth it."
The porch swing swayed gently as you and Yunho continued to talk, the night wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Yunho’s arm was still around you, holding you close, his warmth a comforting presence. His teasing smile had faded into something softer, more intimate.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear. “You know,” he began, his voice low and husky, “I’ve been thinking about more than just our future wedding.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his tone. “Oh? Like what?”
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “Like what I want to do to you tonight.”
Your breath hitched, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Yunho, my whole family is here.”
He didn’t seem deterred. In fact, his playful grin only widened. “That just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
“Yunho,” you protested weakly, but there was no denying the thrill his words sent through you.
He nuzzled your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about how beautiful you looked tonight. How much I wanted to pull you into a room and have my way with you.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you squirmed slightly in his embrace. “You’re impossible,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky.
“Impossible? Or irresistible?” he teased, his hand gently caressing your arm. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing every inch of you. About hearing you say my name when no one else can hear.”
You bit your lip, trying to stay composed. “Yunho, seriously, we can’t do this here.”
He laughed softly, the sound full of mischief. “I’m not doing anything. Just talking. But I love seeing you get all flustered.”
You turned to glare at him, but his playful expression melted your resolve. “You’re a tease, you know that?”
He nodded, his eyes twinkling. “I know. But you love it.”
You sighed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”
“That’s the plan,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear again. “I want you thinking about me all night. About what I’m going to do to you when we’re alone.”
“Yunho,” you whispered, feeling a mix of frustration and arousal. “You’re terrible.”
“Terrible? Or amazing?” he countered, his voice filled with playful confidence.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite yourself. “Both.”
He grinned, pressing a kiss to your neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You shook your head, still smiling. “You should behave. My family is just inside.”
“I am behaving,” he said, feigning innocence. “Just having a conversation.”
You rolled your eyes, but the affection in his gaze made your heart swell. “You’re incorrigible.”
‘’I love you too, babe,’’ he said, chuckling ‘’And I love making you blush.”
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with warmth. “You’re lucky I love you.”
He smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I know. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”
You kissed him softly, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite his teasing, you knew Yunho was the one for you. And as you pulled back, his playful grin returned, making your heart flutter.
“Now, about those things I want to do to you…” he began, but you cut him off with a laugh.
“Yunho!”
He laughed too, holding you close. “Alright, alright. But just you wait until we’re alone.”
You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “I can’t wait.”
As you sat there together, the night wrapped around you, you knew that no matter how much he teased, Yunho was your perfect match. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
As you and Yunho sat together on the porch, still basking in the playful teasing and warmth of each other's company, you heard the door creak open. Your dad stepped out, his expression a mix of amusement and sternness.
"It's getting late, you two," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Time to call it a night."
You nodded, feeling a bit sheepish. "Okay, Dad. We'll head up."
Yunho stood up, helping you to your feet. "Goodnight, sir," he said respectfully.
"Goodnight, Yunho. Goodnight, sweetheart," your dad replied, giving you a nod before heading back inside.
You and Yunho made your way upstairs to your childhood bedroom, the familiar creak of the stairs under your feet bringing back memories. As you opened the door, Yunho's eyes widened in delight.
"Wow," he said, looking around the room with a wide grin. "This is amazing."
You rolled your eyes, laughing. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."
The room was exactly as you had left it, with posters of your favorite bands on the walls, a collection of stuffed animals on the bed, and your old vanity table cluttered with trinkets and makeup from your teenage years.
Yunho walked over to your bookshelf, scanning the titles with interest. "You were always quite the bookworm, huh?"
‘’Yeah, those were some of my favorites growing up.’’ You said, smiling, as you walked up to him. 
He picked up a well-worn copy of a fantasy novel, flipping through the pages. "I can see why. This looks like a great story."
You watched him fondly, feeling a mix of nostalgia and affection. "It is. I used to stay up all night reading that one."
He put the book back, then turned his attention to your old vanity table. "And this... this is quite the collection." He picked up an old bottle of perfume, sniffing it and wrinkling his nose playfully. "Did you actually wear this?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "I did. It was all the rage back then."
Yunho grinned, setting the bottle down. "I can see why. Very... unique."
He moved over to your dresser, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a pair of colorful, frilly underwear. "And what do we have here?" he teased, holding them up with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did you really wear these?"
Your face turned bright red as you snatched them from his hand. "Yunho! Those are from when I was a teenager!"
He laughed, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "They're adorable. You must have been quite the fashionista."
You shoved the underwear back into the drawer, closing it firmly. "Okay, that's enough. Stop snooping."
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close. "I’m just teasing, sweetheart. It’s cute. Seeing where you grew up, learning more about you... I love it."
You sighed, leaning into his embrace. "You’re impossible, you know that?"
"And you love it," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.
"I do," you admitted, turning to face him. "But if you keep teasing me, you might end up sleeping on the floor."
He chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I’ll behave. For now."
You smiled, pulling back to look at him. "Good. Now, let's get some sleep."
As you changed into your pajamas, Yunho continued to explore your room, occasionally commenting on the various items he found. "I can't believe you still have this old teddy bear," he said, holding up a well-loved stuffed animal.
"Mr. Snuggles," you said, smiling. "He’s been with me since I was a baby."
Yunho placed the bear back on the bed, then turned to you with a soft smile. "I’m glad I get to share this part of your life with you."
You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Me too. It means a lot to me."
He kissed the top of your head, then gently guided you to the bed. "Come on, let’s get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow."
You climbed into bed, feeling the familiar comfort of your old room. Yunho joined you, pulling the covers over both of you and wrapping his arms around you.
The warmth of his body and the rhythmic sound of his breathing began to lull you into a peaceful state. However, it wasn't long before you felt his lips on your neck, planting soft kisses that made your heart race.
"Yunho," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We should get some sleep."
He chuckled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "I know," he murmured, his hand sliding up your side, "but you just look so irresistible."
You shivered under his touch, trying to keep your voice steady. "Behave, Yunho. My family is just in the next room."
"I'll behave," he promised, but the mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise.
His hand continued to explore, slipping under your pajama top, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. He pressed himself closer to you, and you could feel his growing arousal against your back. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.
"Yuyu," you said again, more firmly this time, trying to regain control. "We can't do this here."
He chuckled again, his hand moving to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. "I'm not doing anything," he said innocently. "Just touching you."
You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. "Yunho, please."
He didn't relent. Instead, he continued to whisper filthy things in your ear, his voice filled with a dominant edge that made your breath catch. "I can't stop thinking about how good you feel," he murmured. "How much I want to hear you moan my name."
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stay quiet. "Yunho, we can't. My parents—"
"Your parents are asleep," he interrupted, his hand sliding down to your waist. "And even if they weren't, they wouldn't hear a thing if you're quiet."
You felt yourself trembling with desire, torn between wanting him to stop and needing him to continue. "Yunho, please," you whispered, your voice desperate.
He smirked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."
You bit your lip harder, your breathing becoming more labored. "Please stop," you managed to say, though your body betrayed you, pressing back against him.
"Stop?" he echoed, his hand slipping lower, fingers brushing against your core. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"
You let out a shaky breath, your resolve weakening. "We can't make noise."
He grinned against your skin. "Then you'll just have to be very quiet," he whispered, his fingers teasing you through your pajamas.
You stifled a moan, your body aching for more. "Yunho, this isn't fair."
"Life's not fair, baby," he said, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet."
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reticent-writer · 3 months
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hiii just found you, and was wondering if you could do like the hashira’s reactions to a half demon, half human child (maybe toddler age). The child would be introduced at one of the hashira meetings
Then again I don’t know if you’ve already done this but yeah…
I have done something similar but I can't find it
Demon slayer masterlist
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"Hey, kid!" A lowered rank yelled at you. It was the middle of the night and you were alone in the middle of the woods, playing without a care in the world.
"Kid where are your parents!" He got closer while still yelling.
This time you turned to face him. Your eyes glowed in the dark scaring the poor guy.
"Hi." You smiled while waving.
"What are you doing out here?"
"playin' "
"Where are your parents?" He asked again. You shrugged your shoulders.
"Come with me I'll take you somewhere safe." He leaned down to your height while holding out his arm, You hesitantly took it.
He took you to the master's estate in hopes of him finding a place for you
Ubuyashiki couldn't find your family so he made arrangements for you to live with him and his family
during this time his wife noticed your weird behaviors like not eating or sleeping, feeling nauseous around the scent of wisteria, your skin getting irritated when your out in the sun for too long
She brought this up with her husband and he asked you If you were a demon to which you replied
"Yes and no but master said it's a secret"
it's no longer a secret cause he called a meeting
"Hello my children, I've called you all here on account of my guest. A child was found playing in the woods, They have been living here for a while and we have suspected they might be a cross of demon and human."
"How is that possible?"
"Can we met them."
"I don't want to met another demon." Sanemi said with a tone of arrogance.
"Then go home no one needs the attitude." Tengen sassed.
"You-"
"I for one would like to see what they are like!" Rengoku boasted, accidentally cutting Sanemi off. He couldn't hear him.
"Are we sure it's safe. We do not know its intention." Gyomei asked.
"During the time they were here they never ate or was agressive towards anyone. Why don't you come out Y/n, I know you're listening."
You slightly opened the door to the engawa and peaked your head out.
"They're gonna kill me." You whined.
"No ones gonna kill you," Ubuyashiki and his children chuckled, "Can you come here please."
You thought for a minute before slowly making your way over to him, careful not making eye contact with the hashira.
"Aw how cute." Mitsuri gushed.
"What's wrong with it."
"Still with the attitude."
"Poor thing is scared." Gyomei started to tear up.
"They don't look the least bit demon." Iguro noted.
"Cause I'm not... Not fully." You said.
"What does that mean, Y/n?" Kagaya asked.
You shrugged, Sanemi groaned, "No disrespect master, but I don't see the purpose of keeping it alive."
"I second that."
"I told you they wanted to kill me!" You cried while running back into the mansion.
"...Well then I guess this meeting it over. You are dismissed."
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿
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hotchfiles · 5 months
Text
↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.
AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT
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pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K
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    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…
    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 
    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.
    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”
    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 
    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 
    “And you? Catholic?” 
    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 
    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 
    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 
    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 
    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 
    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 
    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 
    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 
    “So you believe it’s a man?” 
    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 
    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 
    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 
    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 
    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 
    “A very shameful execution.” 
    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.
    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.
    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.
    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.
    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.
    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.
    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 
    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.
    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 
    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.
    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”
    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.
    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 
    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 
    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.
    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.
    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”
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