#Private Security Firms | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshifighting · 10 months ago

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Bodyguard

— Synopsis: During a trip defined by your father, you, in an act of provocation, choose Seungcheol to be your personal bodyguard. — WC: 8.8k — WARNINGS: Smut, reader makes Seungcheol do push ups in front of her, choking, "ma'am calling", squirting, mentions of gun, reader gives Seungcheol lots of filthy hints, pussy eating, fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex and etc.

You walk in your high-heeled shoes inside the basement, their echo reverberating through the dimly lit space. As you enter, you're greeted by a straight line of men, all dressed in black suits, their expressions solemn and focused. Their posture straightens as they catch sight of you, a clear indication of respect.

You stop by the side of your Dad, crossing your arms as you survey the group before you. "Sweetheart, those are the recruited soldiers recently," he informs you.

You tilt your head slightly, analyzing the men in front of you, before deciding to approach one. Your eyes land on a particular soldier, his black eyebrows thick and striking. Without hesitation, you walk towards him, your gaze sweeping from his feet to his head.

"What's your name, soldier?" you inquire, your tone firm but not unkind.

The soldier meets your gaze, his expression composed. "Seungcheol, Ma'am," he replies respectfully.

You nod, considering him for a moment before asking for his last name. "Choi, Choi Seungcheol, Ma'am," he responds promptly.

Curiosity piqued, you pressed further. "Have we met before?" you ask, searching his face for any sign of recognition.

The man shakes his head slightly. "No, Ma'am," he replies, his voice steady.

Lie.

You continue your line of questioning, wanting to learn more about this soldier who has caught your attention. "How old are you?" you inquire, noting the maturity in his features despite his youthful appearance.

"28, Ma'am," he answers without hesitation.

You consider him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding, acknowledging his response.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," you command, your voice firm and authoritative.

He promptly moves his gaze to meet yours, finding your cold expression unwavering.

"Which department were you placed in?" you inquire, your tone sharp and demanding.

"East patrol, Ma'am," he responds promptly, his voice steady despite the intensity of your scrutiny.

Nodding to your Dad, you signal for him to make a readjustment regarding the department of Soldier Choi.

Your Dad, slightly puzzled, asks, "Which department should I put him in, Sweetie?"

You tilt your head slightly, squeezing your eyes as you continue to analyze Soldier Choi. After a moment of consideration, you respond with a decisiveness that catches everyone off guard.

"My private security guard," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he struggles to suppress the urge to gag. The soldiers standing beside him also try their best to conceal their reactions, but the shock is evident on their faces.

You need to contain the bubbles in your chest, which wants to make you laugh in his face.

You and Seungcheol hated each other.

Everyone at the agency knew about this tea, apparently, only your father didn't know.

You give them a last look, and they bow respectfully before you turn to Soldier Choi. "Meet me in two hours," you command, your voice leaving no room for negotiation. "In the storage room on the fourth floor," you add, glancing at your wristwatch, noting the time.

Soldier Choi nods in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as he absorbs your instructions.

"With packed suitcases," you continue, your tone leaving no room for questions, "We are going to Japan."

With that final directive, you turn on your heel and stride purposefully out of the basement, leaving behind the line of soldiers and the curious glances that follow you.

You couldn't shake the bitter taste in your mouth as the name Choi Seungcheol echoed in your mind. Years of working with the FBI had honed your instincts for identifying potential threats, and Seungcheol's sudden appearance in your life triggered a flood of memories.

Training years ago had brought you face to face with him, your Dad decided that he wanted you to follow his lineage, two young adults embarking on a journey into the world of espionage. You had formed a light camaraderie with him, feeling a connection that bordered on friendship.

But everything changed when Seungcheol made the fateful decision to follow the path of another spy agency. It felt like a betrayal, a sharp sting that left a lingering bitterness in its wake.

And when he came back to your Dad agency, because the other agency simply rejected the bunch of young men at their door, you couldn't forgive him.

Japan, 8h34 p.m.

You sit back in the plush armchair of the hotel room, arms crossed casually over your chest as you watch Seungcheol sweat it out with a series of push-ups. His muscles flex with each repetition, a testament to his dedication to maintaining his physical prowess.

"Are you tired yet?" you quip, a playful glint in your eyes as you observe his exertion.

Seungcheol pauses briefly to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with each heavy inhale. "No, ma'am," he responds between breaths, determination etched into his features.

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his resilience. "Are you going to give up anytime soon?" you tease, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

He grits his teeth and resumes his push-ups, a low groan escaping him as he pushes himself to continue. "No, ma'am," he grunts, his voice strained with effort.

You chuckle softly, finding amusement in his unwavering determination. "Well, don't strain yourself too much," you jest, leaning back further into the comfort of the armchair. "Wouldn't want you collapsing from exhaustion before our next mission, now would we?"

Seungcheol shoots you a playful glare, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips despite his physical exertion. "Not a chance, ma'am," he retorts, his resolve unshaken.

As Seungcheol's arms tremble with exhaustion, you can't help but savor the view of his determination. Despite the strain evident in every muscle, he continues to push himself beyond his limits. It surprises you just how strong he still is, a testament to his resilience and unwavering dedication.

"Still going, huh?" you remark, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you watch him struggle through each push-up.

Seungcheol's breaths come out in heavy pants, his movements slowing as fatigue sets in. "Can't... give up..." he manages to groan out between labored breaths.

You chuckle softly, impressed by his tenacity. "Oh, I see," you tease, leaning forward slightly to get a closer look at his struggling form. "I guess I'll have to find someone else to carry me around then."

His response is a strained grunt as he forces himself to push through another repetition. The effort is evident on his face, and you can't help but admire his determination, even as his movements become slower and more difficult.

You can't help but tease him further, enjoying the sight of his struggle. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you taunt, feigning sympathy. "You're looking a bit shaky there. Don't tell me you're starting to feel your age."

With great difficulty, Seungcheol manages to retort, his voice strained but determined, "You're...in the same age...as me."

Touché.

Your smile falters for a moment, caught off guard by his response. Despite the playful banter, his words hit home, a reminder of the passage of time and the challenges that come with it.

"Alright, that's enough," you concede, your tone softening as you watch him collapse onto the ground, panting heavily, his arms sore from the exertion.

As you approach him, Seungcheol sits on his knees, catching his breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Choi Seungcheol..." you say slowly, drawing out each syllable as you watch his reaction closely.

He meets your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what you have up your sleeve.

"You thought you could hide from me, didn't you?" you continue, your voice laced with amusement as you lean in closer, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

He shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he schools his expression into one of mock innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ma'am," he replies smoothly, though there's a hint of tension in his voice.

You chuckle softly, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to tease him. "Oh, please," you retort, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can't hide from me, Seungcheol. I always find my targets, no matter how hard they try to evade me."

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "You just love to make my life difficult, don't you?" he quips, in feigned annoyance.

"Wouldn't be much fun otherwise, now would it?" you reply with a grin, leaning back in your seat as you revel in the banter between you.

You grab Seungcheol's chin roughly, forcing him to meet your gaze as you shake his face slightly. "How pretty," you remark, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "Wanting to work with me again, hmm? I bet you've missed me, haven't you?"

His jaw tenses under your grip, but he maintains his composure, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of defiance and apprehension.

Releasing him abruptly, you let him stumble backward slightly before continuing. "Well, since you seem so eager to work with me again," you say, your voice dripping with disdain, "you better act like the good bodyguard they recruited you to be. Or else..."

Seungcheol arches an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his expression as he waits for you to elaborate.

You lean in closer, your voice low and menacing. "Or else," you continue, "the feedback about your image within the FBI will be ruined. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Seungcheol's features at the mention of his reputation being tarnished within the agency. Despite the facade of confidence he wears, you can see the doubt creeping into his eyes as he weighs the consequences of defying you.

With a satisfied smirk, you straighten up, knowing that you've effectively reminded him of the stakes at hand.

"Now come on," you say, your tone lightening as you change the subject, "I'm craving the pasta from the restaurant down the street."

Seungcheol gets up slowly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he adjusts the gun at his hip. He follows you begrudgingly, his expression revealing his dissatisfaction with your little revelation.

You sit across from Seungcheol at the restaurant, the aroma of freshly cooked pasta filling the air. But instead of digging into his meal, he sits with his arms crossed and a bratty expression on his face, his untouched food growing cold in front of him.

You can't help but coo at him teasingly, your voice dripping with mock concern. "What's the matter, Seungcheol? Not hungry?"

He hears you, but refuses to meet your gaze, instead opting to scoff and look away, his stubbornness evident in every line of his body.

You lean forward slightly, your playful demeanor not faltering in the face of his resistance. "Come on," you cajole, reaching across the table to nudge his plate closer to him, "don't be like that. You'll regret it if you let this delicious food go to waste."

But Seungcheol remains unmoved, his bratty facade firmly in place as he continues to sulk in silence. During dinner, you convinced him to eat the meal in front of you, after much insistence.

As you walk in the direction of the elevator, a mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes as you suppress a smile, preparing for the best theater of your life. With a dramatic flair, you pretend to stumble, a hand flying to your forehead as if you're about to faint.

Seungcheol reacts immediately, his reflexes kicking in as he reaches out to steady you, his strong arms wrapping around you to prevent you from falling. You suppress another laugh at his quick response, marveling at the effectiveness of your little performance.

"Oh!" you exclaim, feigning distress. "I suddenly feel terrible. These heels are killing me."

Without missing a beat, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style as he heads towards the elevator.

You tease, unable to resist the opportunity to poke fun at Seungcheol's expense. "Wow," you remark with exaggerated admiration, "even after millions of push-ups, you can still carry me around like it's nothing. Oh! Seungcheol, you're so strong."

He lets out a slight blush, rolling his eyes at your playful comment. "If you say one more word," he warns, his tone tinged with mock irritation, "I'm going to let you fall."

You smirk in response, unfazed by his threat. "Sorry, Seungcheol," you retort teasingly, "but it's not you who gives the orders around here."

With a playful twinkle in your eye, you lean back comfortably in his arms, reveling in the banter between the two of you.

After a leisurely soak, you emerge from the bathroom feeling rejuvenated, a soft towel wrapped snugly around your body. With a contented sigh, you begin to apply cream to your arms, the familiar routine calming your mind as you focus on the simple task at hand.

But as you turn towards the bed, you can't help but burst into laughter at the sight that greets you. Seungcheol is sprawled out on his bed, his face buried in the pillow and his back turned to you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

You shake your head in amusement, unable to resist the urge to tease him. "Looks like someone had a long day," you quip, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Seungcheol stirs at the sound of your voice, turning his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder. "Oh, please," he mumbles groggily, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Don't remind me."

Your phone rings suddenly, shattering the peaceful atmosphere of the hotel room. With a quick glance at the caller ID, you see that it's your father on the line. Without hesitation, you answer, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you listen to his instructions.

"Dad?" you say, your tone tense with anticipation.

His voice crackles over the line, his words coming in fast and urgent. "I need all the bodyguards down at the hotel right now," he announces, the seriousness of his tone leaving no room for argument.

You end the call, your mind already racing with possibilities as you turn to face Seungcheol, who is still lying on the bed, his face buried in the pillow.

"Well, Seungcheol," you say with a wry smile, "it looks like it's not the best time for you to catch up on your beauty sleep."

He lets out a soft whimper, throwing the pillow away and scrambling to his feet. Rushing to put on his suit.

As Seungcheol opens the door to leave, his hand hovering over the handle, he pauses and turns to you with a commanding tone. "Don't. Leave. The. Bedroom," he orders, his voice firm and authoritative.

You can't help but laugh at his seriousness, a playful glint in your eye as you tease him. "Aren't you forgetting something?" you ask innocently, raising an eyebrow.

He raises his gaze, and his eyes widen as he realizes that you're still standing there in your towel, holding his gun in your hand. With a sigh of exasperation, he closes his eyes briefly, his frustration evident.

"Oh my god, get dressed," he mutters, extending his hand to retrieve the gun from you.

You can't resist teasing him further, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "What's the matter, Seungcheol?" you tease, waving the gun teasingly. "Afraid of a woman only wearing a towel?"

He grunts in response, his cheeks flushing slightly as he takes the gun from you. "Just... don't leave the room," he repeats, his tone slightly exasperated, before abruptly closing the door behind him.

You had made a split-second decision to disobey Seungcheol's orders and follow your father's soldiers, the urgency of the situation outweighing any concern for staying put. Now, you find yourself in the midst of the action, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you navigate the streets, your senses on high alert.

Spotting Seungcheol in a corner of the alley, you can't resist the opportunity to tease him. Sneaking up behind him, you lean in close to his ear and whisper, "Boo." you murmur teasingly, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Fancy meeting you in a dark alley like this. Are you up to no good again?"

Before he can respond, Seungcheol reacts with lightning-fast reflexes, pushing you against the nearest wall with surprising force. Your arms are pinned behind your back, your face pressed uncomfortably against the rough bricks, as he restrains you with an iron grip.

Wide-eyed, Seungcheol freezes as he realizes his mistake. "Y/N?" he exclaims, his voice laced with disbelief as he spins you around to face him.

In that moment, the realization dawns on him, and his expression morphs into one of sheer horror. He's just smashed the daughter of his boss's face into the bricks, mistaking you for a suspect in the chaos of the moment.

Seungcheol turns you around, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration as he finds you with a sly smile on your face. Before he can say anything, you tease him, your words dripping with mischief.

"If you can handle me that roughly, too-" you quip, your voice muffled by his hand as he clamps it over your mouth, cutting off your words.

"Shut up," he hisses, his tone urgent as he scans the alley for any signs of danger. "What are you doing here?"

You remove his hand from your mouth with a playful smirk, unable to resist teasing him even in the midst of the tense situation. "Oh, just thought I'd see if you could handle a little rough handling," you quip, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, his patience wearing thin as he struggles to keep his composure. "This is no time for jokes, Y/N," he scolds, his voice tight with exasperation. "You could have gotten hurt."

Seungcheol's frustration is palpable as he glares at you, his voice tinged with annoyance. "I told you to stay in your damn room," he says through gritted teeth, his eyes scanning the alley for any signs of danger.

You can't help but laugh at his exasperation, finding amusement in his frustration despite the seriousness of the situation. With a teasing glint in your eye, you retort playfully, "Oops, looks like I missed the memo. But where's the fun in following orders, Seungcheol?"

His jaw clenches in frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but there's a flicker of amusement in his eyes as well. Despite his annoyance, he can't help but appreciate your daring spirit and the playful banter between the two of you.

"Stubborn as ever," he mutters under his breath, though there's a hint of fondness in his tone as he shakes his head at your antics. "Just… stay close."

You cross your arms, watching as Seungcheol patrols the area with a vigilant eye. The tension in the air is palpable as you wait for any sign of trouble, knowing that the safety of your father's operation depends on the diligence of every member of the team.

As your dad's voice crackles over the radio, announcing the end of the patrol, Seungcheol holsters his gun at his hips once again. He turns to you with a stern expression, his eyes narrowed in admonition.

"Come on," he says briskly, gesturing for you to follow him. "You could've gotten me into some serious trouble if your dad found out you weren't in bed."

As you walk back towards the hotel with Seungcheol, you can't resist teasing him about the earlier incident in the alley.

"If my dad finds out you manhandled me in that alley," you retort with a smirk, "you'll be in some serious trouble."

Seungcheol turns around, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern as he quickly shushes you. "Sorry, okay?" he says, his voice hushed but earnest. "I thought you were a suspect."

You can't help but chuckle at his apology, enjoying the way he squirms under your playful teasing. "Oh, I'm sure you did," you reply, a mischievous glint in your eye. "But you know, Seungcheol, I kind of like it when things start to get rough. Are you this rough in bed too?"

Seungcheol's eyes widen in shock at your bold remark, his cheeks flushing slightly as he turns around abruptly, continuing to walk towards the hotel without another word, his eyes darting around to make sure no one overhears.

[...]

The next day, Seungcheol's sole function seemed to revolve around being around you, and you found yourself enjoying his presence more than you anticipated.

While the other bodyguards were out on a mission, Seungcheol had taken it upon himself to ensure your day was filled with activities. You had gone for a refreshing run in the park in the morning, followed by a leisurely shopping excursion in the afternoon.

Now, as you laid in the hotel bedroom, meticulously painting your nails, Seungcheol observed you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He rolled his eyes as you swung your feet back and forth while focusing on your manicure.

"Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you cooed teasingly, glancing up at him with a playful grin. "You'd rather be in the midst of a mission, fighting off bad guys, than having a relaxing day with me? I saved you from an exhausting day out there!"

Seungcheol sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his efforts to appear unaffected by your teasing. "I never said I preferred being in the middle of a fight," he admitted, his tone teasing yet genuine. "But sometimes your idea of a 'relaxing day' is a little... unconventional."

"Oh, right, because fighting with guns and shit is way more cool," you quip, your focus still on your nails as you glance at Seungcheol with a playful smirk.

Seungcheol lets out a chuckle at your remark, unable to hide the amusement in his eyes. "Well, I can't argue with that," he replies, his tone light and teasing. "But there's something to be said about the thrill of a good Yves Saint-Laurent high heels.."

You roll your eyes playfully at his response, shaking your head as you continue painting your nails. "I'll take a relaxing day over dodging bullets any time," you retort with a grin, enjoying the banter between you.

Seungcheol lets out a scoff at your comment, but his expression softens as he watches your hair fall loose from your bun, knowing it's bothering you as you try to focus on your manicure.

Without hesitation, he gets up from his seat and moves behind you, his hands deftly gathering your hair into a ponytail. You can feel the warmth of his touch as he gently ties it back, securing it in place with practiced ease.

"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his assistance as you return your attention to your nails.

Seungcheol chuckles softly, his fingers lingering for a moment longer before he steps back, his task complete. "There you go," he says with a smirk, his tone light and teasing. "Now you can finish your masterpiece without any distractions."

You grin at his playful remark, unable to resist teasing him in return. "Who knew my personal bodyguard was also a hairstylist?" you quip, your tone filled with mock surprise. "Maybe I should start charging extra for your services."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at your teasing, but there's a hint of amusement in his gaze as he settles back into his seat. Despite the lighthearted banter, you can't help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and willingness to lend a helping hand, even in the most unexpected of situations.

After finishing your manicure, you eagerly show your hands to Seungcheol, a playful grin on your face as you ask for his opinion.

"What do you think?" you inquire, wiggling your fingers for emphasis.

Seungcheol inspects your nails with a critical eye before shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't like red," he remarks casually.

You can't help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. "What?!" you exclaim, mock indignation coloring your tone. "But I distinctly remember you saying red was your favorite color!"

The smile that Seungcheol had been suppressing finally breaks free, transforming into a hearty laugh at your feigned outrage. "Alright, alright," he concedes between chuckles. "I guess I'll make an exception for your nails."

"You should," you retort with a playful glint in your eye, enjoying the banter.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, so my opinion is important now?" he teases, his tone laced with amusement.

You nod, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. "Yes, it is," you reply, your voice tinged with mock seriousness. "Because these red nails are going to be on your back tonight."

His eyes widen in surprise at your bold declaration, and you can see the shift in his posture as he processes your words. "Uh..." he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly as he clears his throat. "Maybe we should stick to talking about nail polish and colors-"

You shoot Seungcheol a playful smirk, enjoying the way his cheeks still hold a hint of color from your earlier comment. "Not feeling so bold anymore, huh?" you tease, nudging him gently with your elbow.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there's a spark of amusement in his gaze as he meets your playful challenge. "Hey, I can be bold when I need to be," he retorts with a grin, his confidence returning as he meets your gaze head-on.

You chuckle at his response, appreciating the way he's able to bounce back from your teasing with equal parts wit and charm. "Oh, I have no doubt about that," you reply, unable to hide the fondness in your tone.

You watch as Seungcheol leans in closer, his expression curious as he questions your sudden change in behavior. Tilting your head in confusion, you furrow your brow as you meet his gaze.

"Why did you suddenly choose me to be your bodyguard?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine curiosity. "You used to hate me, and now you're even flirting with me."

You can't help but laugh at his incredulous tone, finding amusement in his confusion. "Isn't it funny how things change?" you reply with a playful grin. "Besides, it's quite entertaining having you do everything I ask."

Seungcheol scoffs at your response, clearly still puzzled by your sudden shift in attitude. "Flirting with me doesn't make any sense," he insists, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You simply shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know," you reply casually. "Angry sex is way better when you're doing it with someone you hate."

You glance at him through your lashes, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you watch his reaction. Seungcheol's mouth goes dry, and you can see him squirming uncomfortably in his seat, clearly taken aback by your boldness.

"Cat got your tongue?" you tease, leaning in closer to him.

Seungcheol shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his expression torn between desire and restraint. "We can't do that," he finally manages to say, his voice strained as he wrestles with his own demons.

You bite your lip, unable to resist the urge to push him further. "And why is that?" you press, your voice low and seductive.

Seungcheol hesitates, his gaze flickering between you and the floor as he struggles to find the right words. "It's unprofessional," he finally murmurs, his tone tinged with regret.

You can't help but chuckle at his response, finding amusement in his attempt to maintain his composure. "Oh, come on, Seungcheol," you tease, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek.

His eyes darken at your touch, and you can see the internal battle raging within him. "This isn't the time or place," he insists, his voice strained.

You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "But if it wasn't because of that," you murmur softly, your breath ghosting over his lips, "would you fuck me?"

Seungcheol inhales sharply at your bold question, his resolve crumbling in the face of your undeniable allure. For a moment, he's silent, his eyes locked with yours in a silent exchange of longing and desire.

So he abruptly gets up and heads to the bathroom, you watch him go with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. Leaning back on the bed, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you revel in the realization that Seungcheol isn't entirely immune to your charms.

Finally allowing yourself to relax, you let out a soft sigh, feeling a sense of victory wash over you. Despite his attempts to maintain a professional demeanor, you can't help but notice the way he reacted to your teasing, the flicker of desire in his eyes betraying his attempts to resist your allure.

[...]

As Seungcheol stirred from his sleep, a sense of concern gnawed at him, prompting him to glance over at your bed. He looked once, relieved to see you there, but when he looked again, you were gone. Panic surged through him as he quickly scanned the room, his heart racing as he realized you were nowhere to be found.

With a curse under his breath, Seungcheol threw off the covers and sprung out of bed, his mind racing with worry. He searched every corner of the bedroom, his movements frantic as he called out your name in a hushed voice, hoping against hope that you would respond.

But there was no sign of you, and Seungcheol's frustration boiled over as he cursed under his breath, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a lead weight. "Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "This girl always manages to get me into trouble."

As you made your way to the rooftop pool, a mischievous grin played on your lips. You weren't actually in need of a breather; rather, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to play a little game with Seungcheol, to remind him of the importance of staying vigilant in his role as your bodyguard.

Settling into a lounge chair by the pool, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself as you imagined the look on Seungcheol's face when he realized you were nowhere to be found in the room. It was all in good fun, after all, and you were certain he would appreciate the lesson in staying alert.

Suddenly, you felt hands wrap around your waist, and you were swiftly turned around to face Seungcheol, who looked both relieved and exasperated. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his voice edged with frustration as he took in the rooftop's empty expanse, save for the two of you.

You couldn't help but maintain your composed demeanor, a smirk dancing on your lips as you met his gaze. "Seems like you found me," you remarked casually, teasingly raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Seungcheol's frustration boiled over at your nonchalant response, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "You think this is funny?" he demanded, his voice tinged with irritation as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Seungcheol's frustration was palpable as he confronted you, his voice edged with exasperation. "You could have chosen anyone, why me?" he demanded, his tone tinged with a hint of desperation. "You're so hard to handle! Did you know that?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, finding amusement in his exasperated state. Sliding your hand across his cheek in a teasing gesture, you met his gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

"Why not you?" you countered with a smirk, your tone teasing as you brushed off his question. "After all, who else would be able to handle someone as difficult as me?"

Seungcheol's reaction was immediate, brushing your hand away with abruptness as if your touch had burned him. His frustration boiled over as he demanded to know what game you were playing, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and confusion.

His eyes blazed with rage as he leaned in closer, his frustration evident in every line of his face. "What the fuck do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he searched your face for answers.

You met his gaze head-on, your expression unreadable as you replied calmly, "I just needed some fun."

His eyes narrowed even further, his frustration boiling over as he leaned closer to you. "Your idea of fun is putting my serious job at risk," he spat out, his voice trembling with pent-up rage. "And let me tell you, it's not fucking fun for me."

Undeterred by his anger, you leaned in even closer, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "You mad?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you egged him on.

Seungcheol wraps his hand around your neck, his hand pressing you against the border of the building, his rage palpable in every movement. "Listen to me," he growled, his voice low and menacing as he struggled to maintain his composure. "You need to start taking this seriously. You're not just playing games with me—you're putting yourself in danger."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." he replied sharply. "Because if everything goes wrong, you're still going to be the boss's daughter, and I'm going to be dead."

Your expression darkened at his words, a frown forming on your lips as you felt his hand tightening around your neck. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the intensity of his grip, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

But instead of backing down, you met his gaze with defiance, refusing to let him intimidate you. "I wouldn't let them do that to you," you declared boldly, your voice tinged with determination.

"I wouldn't let them touch you," you continued, your voice low and husky, each word dripping with determination. "Not before I—" you paused, the sensation of Seungcheol's body pressed against yours and his hand tightening around your neck sending shivers down your spine. "—not before I fuck you," you finally breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear.

A sudden moan escaped your lips as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses and fueling the fire that burned between you and Seungcheol.

He widened his eyes in surprise at your unexpected reaction, clearly taken aback by your excitement in the midst of the tense situation. "What—" he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to comprehend your response.

You smirked, a wicked gleam in your eye as you leaned back slightly, your gaze locking with his as you reveled in the raw intensity of the moment. "What, you didn't expect me to enjoy this?" you teased, your voice dripping with amusement as you watched his expression darken with desire.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you, the electric tension between you and Seungcheol igniting a primal urge that refused to be ignored.

Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise and desire flickering in their depths as he struggled to process your bold declaration. "You... you're serious?" he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, finding amusement in his stunned expression. "Dead serious," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief as you leaned in closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Then what are you waiting for?"

As you and Seungcheol moved with urgency and desire, your kiss deepening with each step, the tension between you reached its peak. From the rooftop to the hotel hallways, the elevator serving as a brief respite before you continued your passionate embrace, the heat between you only intensified.

Finally, as you reached the hotel room, Seungcheol threw you onto the bed, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heart racing with excitement as you met his hungry gaze. With a playful smirk, you propped yourself up on your elbows, reveling in the desire that burned in his eyes.

But as his gaze traveled over your figure, lingering on the delicate camisole that barely covered your curves, a flicker of disapproval crossed his face. "You walked around the hotel like this?" he muttered.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine as you teased, "Don't like it? Then take it off."

The challenge in your words was unmistakable, and you watched with anticipation as Seungcheol's desire flared, his hands moving to grasp the sides of the camisole. With a swift motion, he ripped the delicate fabric down the middle, exposing your bare breasts and lacy panties to his hungry gaze.

You gasped at the suddenness of his action, a thrill coursing through you at the raw desire burning in his eyes. "Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice husky.

As Seungcheol's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, bites, and licks in their wake, you couldn't help but squirm beneath him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. His fingers toyed with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you moan with delight.

"It's so difficult to hold myself back around you," he confessed, his voice husky with desire as he continued to lavish attention on your sensitive skin.

Your breath hitched at his admission, a surge of arousal coursing through you at the raw honesty in his words. Feeling your arousal pooling between your legs, you moaned softly, unable to contain the overwhelming sensations that consumed you.

Unable to resist any longer, you whispered, "Finally, you admitted it,"

Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to his touch, reveling in the intoxicating mix of desire and arousal that filled the room. "Oh, so you were waiting for me to admit it, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to explore every inch of your skin with his lips and hands. "Well, now that I've admitted it, what do you plan to do about it?"

With a smirk of your own, you whispered, "I plan to make sure you don't hold back anymore," your voice dripping with desire as you pulled him closer.

As Seungcheol's hand ventured lower, his fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric of your lacy panties, you couldn't help but inhale sharply, your breath catching in your throat at the sudden contact. A surge of electricity shot through you as his fingers made contact with your slick folds, the sensation causing you to jolt in pleasure.

He chuckled softly at your reaction, his lips pressing gentle pecks along your jawline as he continued to explore your arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths as he teased you with his touch.

With a deliberate slowness, he slid his fingers deeper, exploring the wet heat between your thighs. As his digits entered you, you couldn't suppress the loud moan that escaped your lips, your mouth falling open in ecstasy as pleasure surged through your body.

As Seungcheol's fingers pumped in and out of you, you found yourself overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body. The sound of your wetness mingled with the filthy sounds of his fingers plunging into you, filling the air with the heady scent of arousal.

With your vision blurred by pleasure, your hands fumbled with the buttons of Seungcheol's shirt, the fabric suddenly feeling suffocating against your skin. You needed him closer, his bare chest pressed against yours as his fingers plugged deeper in your cunt.

As you struggled to undo the buttons, your fingers clumsy with desire, you let out a shaky moan, the sound a symphony of your arousal filling the room. "Seungcheol," you gasped, your voice thick with need as you tugged at his shirt, desperate for him to be as exposed and vulnerable as you were in that moment.

A shaky moan escaped your lips as Seungcheol's fingers found your sweet spot, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you. Your body trembled under his touch, the pleasure building to dizzying heights as you tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

Seungcheol's lips curled into a smirk as he watched you struggle with the buttons of his shirt, the desire burning in his eyes mirroring your own. "Having a little trouble there, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful arrogance as he continued to pleasure you with his skilled fingers.

You let out a frustrated groan, the need for him overwhelming your senses as his touch drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy. "Just shut up and help me," you demanded, your words laced with a hint of desperation as you tugged at his shirt, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

With a low chuckle, Seungcheol obliged, quickly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt before tossing it aside, his toned chest revealed in all its glory. "Better?" he asked, his voice husky with desire as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a searing kiss.

"Much better…"

Seungcheol wasted no time in pulling your panties down, his eyes fixed on yours as he spread your legs apart. You squirmed beneath him, craving his touch as he caressed your inner thighs.

Rolling your hips in search of more, you let out a needy whine, biting your lip in anticipation. Every fiber of your being was aflame with desire, and you couldn't wait for him to give you what you needed.

As Seungcheol's warm tongue made contact with your wet folds, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch your back and scream his name in ecstasy. His smile against your pussy only added to the sensation.

His strong arms held your hips firmly against the mattress, preventing you from squirming away as his tongue worked its magic. Each flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you unable to do anything but moan incoherently.

"God, yes," you mumbled, your eyes rolling back in your head as he continued to suck and lick you with increasing fervor. The intensity of the pleasure was overwhelming, and you found yourself lost in the bliss of the moment, completely at the mercy of his skilled touch.

As he teased and tantalized you with his tongue, you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge of release. With each flick and suck, he pushed you further towards the brink, until finally, with a loud cry of pleasure, you tumbled over the edge, your body shaking with the force of your climax.

Seungcheol continued to lap at your wetness, prolonging your pleasure until you were completely spent, you cried out in ecstasy, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. Gripping his hair tightly, you pulled him closer, eliciting a low moan from him as your actions only fueled his own desire.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably as the intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another climax. With each flick of his tongue, the pleasure intensified, sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you in relentless waves.

But, Seungcheol got up, leaving you whining with need, you couldn't help but watch in anticipation as he removed his shorts and underwear. His mouth and chin glistened with your arousal, evidence of the pleasure he had just given you, while his big pink cock stood proudly, already wet with precum.

Taking a moment to appreciate the sight before you, you let your eyes roam over the lines of his abs, the bulging muscles of his arms, and the strong, muscular thighs that spoke volumes of his training and dedication. He was every inch the epitome of strength and masculinity, and the sight of him standing before you left you breathless.

With a teasing grin, you commented on his impressive physique, "Fuck, you're so hot." causing his cock to twitch in response and his cheeks to flush with arousal. You knew the effect your words had on him, and you reveled in the power you held over him in that moment.

As you almost jumped on him, eagerly positioning yourself on top, you wasted no time in reaching for his throbbing cock, your hand wrapping around it firmly. Seungcheol let out a sharp hiss in your ear, the sound sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

With a wicked grin, you began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, relishing the way his breath hitched in response to your touch. Seungcheol's grip tightened on your hips as he struggled to maintain control, his arousal evident in every gasp and moan that escaped his lips. "God, yes, Ma'am." he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he surrendered himself completely to the pleasure of your touch.

Your movements grew more urgent, more insistent, as you stroked him faster and harder, your own arousal building with each passing moment. "You're so fucking hard for me," you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you continued to pleasure him with skilled hands.

Seungcheol stopped your movements abruptly, grabbing both of your hands and pressing them firmly against the top of your head as he held you in place. A sly smile played on your lips as his cock tapped against your eager pussy, causing you to squirm with anticipation, desperate to feel him inside you.

"Please," you pleaded, your voice filled with longing as you begged for him to fill you completely.

Seungcheol's grin widened as he teased you, drawing out the anticipation until you were practically begging for release.

You waited with bated breath as he slowly began to thrust himself inside you, savoring every inch of his cock as it filled you completely.

With each movement, you could feel him stretching you, filling you in a way that left you breathless with desire. Every vein, every contour of his cock sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

You moaned softly as he buried himself deep inside you, your walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold him close.

As Seungcheol finally entered you completely, his pelvis pressed tightly against yours, a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel every inch of him buried deep inside you, his cock curved perfectly to hit your g'spot with each movement.

With a soft moan, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as you reveled in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your hands were tied in his, holding on tightly as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

Seungcheol moaned in response, the tightness of your grip and the warmth of your wetness driving him to the brink of madness.

Seungcheol teased you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he remarked, "You've been wanting this since the beginning of this trip, haven't you?"

You scoffed playfully, shaking your head as you countered, "You're wrong. I've wanted this since our training days."

His grin widened at your confession, and without missing a beat, he thrust deeper inside you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he relished the feeling of you tightening around him.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. "Yes," you moaned, your words barely audible as you lost yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely by him.

As you warned Seungcheol that you were about to cum, he swiftly turned you onto your chest, pressing your upper body onto the bed while lifting your ass up. With a primal instinct, he thrust his cock back inside you, eliciting cries of pleasure from your lips.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you whimpered, the sensation in your stomach growing so intense that you knew there was no turning back. And when his hand began to draw perfect circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a loud scream, you felt yourself climaxing, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm as you squirted all over him and the bed, coating your thighs and his in your ecstasy. Seungcheol's jaw went slack at the sight and sensation, his own arousal reaching new heights as he watched how incredibly horny he had made you.

Seungcheol's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "I'm not done with you yet."

Your body trembled in oversensitivity, the waves of pleasure still rippling through you from your earlier climax. "Please," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper as you pleaded with him to give you a moment to recover.

But Seungcheol had other plans, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he began to thrust into you once again, his cock driving deep inside you with each powerful movement. You gasped in surprise, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming as he continued to pound into you relentlessly.

"Fuck," you moaned, your words barely coherent as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with sensation as Seungcheol pushed you to the brink of ecstasy once again. "Seungcheol, w-wait,"

As the slickness of your arousal connected your bodies, the sounds emanating from your wet pussy echoed in the bedroom, filling the air with the intoxicating symphony of your passion. Seungcheol closed his eyes, throwing his head back in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation.

Your pussy was so wet, so tight around him, that every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He could feel the creamy ring of your arousal coating his cock, driving him to the brink of ecstasy with each thrust.

But you were too much, your insatiable desire for him driving him to new heights of pleasure. As your pussy throbbed tight around him, merciless in its grip, he couldn't help but surrender himself completely to the overwhelming sensation.

As Seungcheol continued to thrust into you, he spoke to you in a low, husky voice, urging you on to another orgasm. "That's it, Ma'am," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings to drive you wild with desire. "I want to feel you cum for me again."

You tensed under him, the sensation of his words sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded instinctively to his touch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

And then, with a final cry of ecstasy, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Your pussy clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth as you rode the wave of pleasure until it consumed you completely.

Seungcheol rolled his hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he savored the feeling of your cunt wrapping tightly around him. It was deliciously intense, and he relished in the sensation of being completely engulfed by you. With each movement, he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him—it was his, and his alone.

As he neared the edge, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a low groan of pleasure, he released himself inside you, his hot cum painting your walls white. He held onto your ass tightly in his hands, anchoring himself to you as he rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Lost in the moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reveled in the intensity of the pleasure coursing through his body.

As Seungcheol lay there, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, you couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"Look at you," you purred, tracing a finger lightly along his chest. "All worn out already?"

Seungcheol cracked open one eye, giving you a playful glare. "I could say the same about you," he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. "Oh, but I'm never too tired for round two," you teased, winking at him.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Is that a challenge?"

You grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe," you replied, your voice dripping with mischief. "But you'll have to catch your breath first."

Seungcheol chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss.

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spicysourchimken · 10 months ago

Text

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp

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incognit0slut · 9 months ago

Text

REFLECTED BLISS

When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here

“Oh my god.”

“What? What is it?”

“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”

He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”

“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”

His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”

“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.”

“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”

“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”

His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”

“What do you mean?”

His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”

He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”

Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”

“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.

Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.

He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing.

“I guess that makes sense.”

His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”

“Perks, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”

“Is it working?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”

He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”

But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”

“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”

“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”

His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse.

“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”

You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”

His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.

“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.

He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”

He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.

“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”

He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”

You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.

“Convince me more.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt.

“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”

You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”

You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you.

"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"

Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.

"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"

More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.

His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.

"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?"

“It’s making my clothes disappear.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”

“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”

“I do love a good magic trick.”

You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.

“You’re… you’re pretty too.”

His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.

His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.

You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.

With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.

“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.”

Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.

His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own.

You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.

“Yes, baby?”

Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.

You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”

Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.

He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours.

Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”

You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.

“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”

You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.

The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.

“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."

Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.

"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."

Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”

“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.

"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.

"It intensifies, doesn't it?"

Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”

“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.

You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes.

You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.

“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”

You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.

“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”

You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot.

The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.

"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”

You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.

A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.

The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.

Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.

You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?"

"Definitely too much.”

"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.

He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”

"Getting there.”

You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”

You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.

"Almost. Still too much."

Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.

"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.

His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”

“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"

“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."

“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”

“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”

“Cockiness does not suit you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”

You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”

“Perfect.”

His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust.

You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.

"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.

You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.

Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.

“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”

Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.

“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”

Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.

“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”

Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”

The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.

You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge.

"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.

"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”

You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside… me.”

Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”

That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.

His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.

Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.

Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.

You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.

“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."

He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”

You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.

“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.

He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”

You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?

Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.

Maybe you should get one for your room.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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fear-is-truth · 1 month ago

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# SUGAR DADDY! BRUCE WAYNE — hc

synopsis — your life as bruce wayne’s sugar baby warnings — suggestive. mdni a/n — if law school doesn’t work out… this is my dream career lol (exclusively bruce wayne)

he’s strict about keeping things low-profile. no selfies, no pictures together, and definitely no talking to anyone about your arrangement. but when it’s just the two of you, behind closed doors, though, his edges softened—not soft soft, of course, but as close as bruce wayne could ever get.

bruce is every inch the gentleman when he’s out with you—always placing his hand on the small of your back when guiding you through a crowd or escorting you to his car, a subtle but firm gesture that says, you’re mine, and i’m looking after you. he opens doors for you without fail, pulls out your chair at restaurants, and always walks on the street side of the sidewalk, even if it means switching places mid-walk. if you’re wearing heels, he keeps a steadying hand at your waist when you go down stairs.

even in private, he’s super thoughtful—draping a blanket over you when you’re curled up on the couch, pressing a kiss to your temple as he passes by.

bruce isn’t overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’s tactile and tender. he’ll pull you onto his lap while he works at his desk, one arm wrapped around your waist as his free hand taps at his keyboard. “just stay here,” he’ll say when you try to move. “you’re not distracting me.” though the way his lips find your neck every few minutes says otherwise.

bruce values your mind as much as your beauty, and he shows it in the way he engages you. whether you’re discussing a book, a piece of art, or the nuances of history, he listens with genuine interest. when he occasionally challenges your points, it’s never in that dismissive, mansplaining tone that most self-assured men use—it’s thoughtful and designed to draw out your best arguments.

he’s particular about keeping things convenient for you, so he’s arranged for you to have access to one of his apartments in the city. it’s fully furnished, with a stocked fridge, top-of-the-line security, and a walk-in closet he keeps replenishing with new outfits.

bruce’s love language is acts of service and quality time, but his wealth makes gift-giving his default.

has alfred handle all the logistics of getting you the best: tickets to exclusive shows, reservations at restaurants you didn’t even know existed, and private shopping appointments where he foots the bill without a batting an eye.

sends you on luxurious trips during your breaks—paris, tokyo, the maldives. you’re not sure how he pulls it off without anyone finding out, but bruce wayne always has his ways.

he pays attention to your interests and hobbies, subtly encouraging you to indulge. if you mention liking a certain author, musician or a brand, you’ll find their newest release or collection waiting for you the next day.

leaves his black card with you whenever he has to leave on business. “buy yourself something nice,” he says like you don’t already have everything you could possibly want.

bruce has an almost masochistic appreciation for how deeply you affect him. when you tease him. the first time you call him daddy, it’s in that girlish, playful tone, meant to test how far he’d let you get away with. bruce freezes for a millisecond, his face carefully blank, but the dark glint in his eyes gives him away. he exhales slowly, but the extra time he spends adjusting his cufflinks is a tell—you’ve gotten under his skin.

has a love-hate relationship with the short, tight skirts you wear around him. on one hand, he can’t deny how much they drive him mad, how his eyes inevitably linger on the curve of your ass, like he’s entertaining the idea of ripping the skirt off. on the other hand, he hates the idea of anyone else seeing you like that. he’ll chide you in that authoritative tone of his, maybe even smacking your pert ass for extra emphasis (when in private)

despite the chastising, the next day, he’ll gift you a collection of couture skirts and dresses that fit his exacting standards—form-fitting but elegant, sexy but understated. if you insist on being a distraction, you’ll do it his way.

he loves when you wear his clothes—especially his shirts. seeing you in something oversized and smelling faintly of sex and his cologne drives him insane. but he also loves taking it off you.

he’s not above making you jealous, though it’s very rare. if he senses you’ve been a little too independent lately, he’ll let a socialite or two flirt with him at a party just to see your reaction. when you glare at him from across the room, he’ll flash that infuriatingly charming smile and mouth, “come here.” the second you’re alone, he’ll have you pressed tightly against the wall. “you know there’s no one else for me,” he mutters between hot kisses. “but i like seeing you fight for it.”

has an infuriating habit of teasing you in public, keeping you just on the edge of propriety. he’ll whisper filthy things in your ear during a black-tie gala, his hand resting on your thigh under the table. “be good for me,” his thumb grazes discreetly beneath the hem of your dress, and when your cheeks heat up, he just smirks and kisses the spot beneath your ear.

the car rides are his favourite indulgence. he tells the chauffeur to take the long way home, windows darkened, privacy partition up, while fucking you in every position possible.

has a weakness for seeing you in pieces he’s chosen himself. the delicate lace, silk, and satin he picks out always feel indulgent, tailored to fit your body and his preferences. he leaves boxes for you to find, with a note in his neat handwriting: this one tonight

he buys you diamond necklaces and earrings so extravagant they could rival museum pieces. every time, he insists you model them for him—alone, in the privacy of his bedroom. “just the necklace,” he’ll say with a smirk, his tone leaving no room for argument. the sight of you standing there, bare except for the glittering gems, leaves him utterly speechless. and then he’ll step closer, eyes trailing over the diamonds on your neck before his hands wander elsewhere.

sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly indulgent, bruce will forgo sleep altogether just to spend the night making love with you.

he’s a perfectionist in every aspect of his life, including the bedroom. he’s meticulous about learning what makes you tick, and takes immense pride in knowing your body better than you do. precisely which spots make you gasp, which areas make you arch your back. steady and precise, he’s always tuning in to your reactions. he doesn’t rush, taking his time to explore, kiss, and touch in a way that makes you feel completely cared for.

he can go for hours, but he’s patient, too. enjoying the process as much as the end result—taking his time to kiss, to touch, to indulge in every inch of your body.

bruce is insatiable, but he’s also deeply considerate. though he’s always hungry for you, there’s never a moment where he isn’t attuned to your needs, making sure you’re enjoying yourself, always ready to slow down or adjust if you need him to.

loves leaving marks on your body, but he’s careful about where—always hidden, tiny traces of his presence on your skin that only he gets to see.

still, when he notices you wince as you shift in your seat, he puts on a somewhat sheepish expression, offering a murmured, “sorry about that.” but you can see the faint smirk gracing his lips, the flicker of pride in his eyes. it’s all a front—he’s anything but apologetic.

he watches you drift off in his arms, your breathing steady and soft, the rise and fall of your chest lulling him into a rare moment of peace. his lips brush against your bare shoulder, the small gesture as fleeting as the thought that follows—he doesn’t deserve you—but he’s selfish enough to keep you anyway.

tagging — @suumaer

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h4venpha · 2 months ago

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⸺ midnight serenity

✦ sylus x reader contents: fluff, sylus being playfully mean wc: 979 notes: i said i wasnt gonna write bcs im on vacation, but i was having Sylus Thoughts while at the pool today. maybe trying something new w my writing format..? enjoy anyway! i love soft, playful sylus!!!

the bustling of the city is quiet at one of the many penthouses owned by sylus scattered throughout the n109. being the peak of one of the higher buildings, there’s nothing to focus on but the dark, night sky above, the quiet sounds of rippling of water around you, and the warm, bare chest pressing against your back.

“you’re the one who wanted to swim.” sylus remarks slyly, smirking as he tugs you through the water, wading away from the stairs. much like his other penthouses, this one too has a private pool. long and rectangular with stairs leading down one end. before the stairs is a large canopy with lounge chairs inside, a pair of towels set aside for them afterwards.

“i do, just on the shallow side!” you protest, laughing and splashing up water as you try to squirm out of the hold of his muscular arms around your bare waist. sylus slowly walks you both over to the deeper side of the pool, the far end going as deep as six feet.

“oh miss hunter, you can’t swim? you’d think linkon city’s finest hunters would have basic survival skills.” sylus says, smirking when your kicking and thrashing quickly turns into your hands desperately grabbing onto his shoulders as your feet lift off the bottom of the pool.

“sy!” you squeal, practically crawling up onto his bare frame. your legs wrap high around his torso as you pull yourself up to his broad shoulders, half your body out of the water. you can barely feel it when the cool night air hits your wet, dripping skin.

“do you have no trust in me?” sylus asks, feigning offense as he readjusts to carry you in one arm, holding you to his bare chest to calm your squirming, still wading deeper in.

“you know that’s not what i…” you frown down at him knowing he adores teasing you over the smallest things.

“don’t like the water? you’re just like a kitten, kitten.” sylus snorts at his own words, finding it even more amusing when you smack his shoulder.

“i just…like to feel the bottom of the pool when i swim, okay?”

“you wound me, sweetie.” sulus looks up, a fake pout plastered over his smug face. “do you really think i’ll drop you?”

before you could speak, sylus suddenly jerks his arm down. you squeal, arms frantically wrapping tightly around his strong neck as he pretends to drop you. he knew he was being a little mean, but he couldn’t help the way he loved seeing you seek him for comfort and aid. he knew you weren’t helpless, of course, just… too adorable for him to resist.

“sylus!” your cute squeal and laughter fills his chest with warmth.

“alright, alright, such a fussy little thing.” sylus chuckles deeply, imagining you hissing at him like a kitty. anymore teasing and you’d be getting out of the pool in record rime. with two firm hands, he guides you down, letting you rest your thighs around his hips as he holds you securely to him. “there, how’s this?”

“you’re mean.” you grumble at him, winding down as you drape your arms over his shoulders.

“just testing those hunter reflexes… though it seems clinging to me like a scared kitten doesn’t exactly fit into the neither the flight or fight category.” sylus hums, as if truly pondering the nature of her actions. either way, he wasn’t complaining at all, the feeling your warm, wet skin on his and the way you clung onto him had his blood rushing hot in his body.

you roll your eyes, ignoring the obvious warmth rising to your face, “do you want me to drown?”

“you’re fine, sweetie.” sylus snorted, knowing you were somewhat still grumpy at him for messing around. “i’ve got you, don’t i?” sylus quirks an eyebrow at you, his hands squeezing your hips beneath the water to emphasize his point.

and it did. the thick trunk of his body firmly nestled in between your legs while he easily held you steady against him. you have always been safe and you knew that one way or another. there’s nowhere you were safer than in his arms, because no matter how he teased you, he would always be looking out for you.

“…you do.” you admit quietly.

“still mad at me?” sylus pulls his hand up to gently brush away the small droplets of water on your cheek with his thumb. a few strands of his damp, silver hair fall over his forehead, the rest pushed back over the crown of his head. his low, ruby eyes soak you in, from the sheen of your wet skin to the twinkle of water droplets on your eyelashes. the water ripples quietly around your bodies.

when you silently shake your head after a moment of shyness, sylus grins smugly and slides his wet fingers in to cradle your jaw before bringing you close. he slot his lips against yours slowly, languidly slipping and pressing. your hands feel up, threading back his wet hair before sliding down the back of his head and his nape, to rest against his warm, firm chest. your touch had his heart thumping against his ribcage, full of warmth and tenderness for you.

“i’ll make you make up for being mean to me later.” you mumble a little breathlessly as you pull back, feigning nonchalance as your eyes sparkle up at him, lips tingling from the kiss.

“mm, just as soon as you can feel the bottom of the pool, yes?” sylus snorts, before quickly being met with a swift splash of water to the face. when his fingers glide over your sensitive sides, tickling you, the shine in your eyes and the warmth of your laugher makes him forget about every star in the sky above and the chill of the night breeze.

#h4venpha #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #sylus x mc #lads sylus #sylus fluff #sylus fanfic #sylus #love and deepspace #sylus lads #lads #✮₊ H4VENPHA COLLECTION #⟢ love and deepspace works

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norikuna · 3 months ago

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CHERI CHERI LADY — choso kamo minors dni

prologue. → its hard not to be endlessly fond of your sweet boyfriend. he's quiet, unassuming but sweet, oddly so for a half-curse. but god, you want to jump his bones so bad.

pairing. boyfriend!choso kamo x afab!reader

warnings+. nothing really wild, just soft and sweet sèx with choso. first times, kissing and making out, heaps of touching, mild awkwardness but its sincere, creàmpiè...? choso is lowkey a súb, but there's switch in him too. choso calls reader 'my lady' near the start. established but new relationship.

word count. 2.7k song inspiration. cheri cheri lady — modern talking (1985)

a/n. gifs look so ugly on mobile im maddddd i promise its hd on desktop 😓 choso is suchhh a cutie. but this is lowkey mid but im too tired 😭

mp3. cheri, cheri lady, living in devotion, it's always like the first time. let me take a part...

you've been running your fingers gently through choso's hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as his head rests on your lap. his feathery black locks fall loosely around his face, and he's quite a vision, sharp and sorrowful features framed with a rare and private softness.

but now choso shifts a bit, drawing in a slow breath and you catch a glimpse of those haunting hazel eyes ringed by dark shadows, and clearly something is on his mind. it's sweet, you think, how shy he is — how his gaze flickers away before he speaks.

its a soft murmur of your name, low and husky; clearly satisfised like a large cat curled up on your lap and it makes you laugh, pressing a breathy kiss to his warm temple.

"my lady..." and it is said so softly that you don't almost hear it, but the reverence in his tone makes your heart shake, and it bewilders you at how he's so capable of the gentlest violence that unravels you in such a tender way.

you pause, surprised by the sudden tenderness of his words. he’s usually reserved, even guarded while fond, but now, calling you his lady, there’s a vulnerability in his expression that feels like he’s handing you something precious. you smile gently, watching him with a quiet love that makes his face flush, the faintest hint of colour blooming under that dark mark across his nose.

"choso…" you say his name softly, running a hand through his hair once more.

he looks away, smiling a bit sheepishly, his rough, calloused hand reaching for yours and intertwining your fingers, though his grip remains gentle. he hesitates, as though choosing his words carefully, and then his thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

"i just never thought…" he trails off, swallowing as he looks up at you, “that someone like you would…" choso stops, embarrassed, but his gaze is so earnest it makes your heart skip a beat.

"i think you should get used to it," you say softly, squeezing his hand back.

his pink lips turn up slightly in a rare, almost boyish smile, and he leans a little closer, letting his guard fall just enough for you to see a warmth and devotion behind those tired, haunted eyes.

he’s such an old soul, carrying with him the age of over a century. but still, being locked as a death painting isn't quite the right step for emotional development and romance is something new and vulnerable for him, something he’s still learning to give and accept.

the thought brings a smile to your lips as you gaze at him, his eyes closed in a rare moment of peace. gently, you lean forward, brushing a soft, feather-light kiss against his lips, but the moment your lips touch, his hand finds your jaw, his fingers rough but tender as they cradle your face.

you quietly gasp as choso deepens the kiss, pulling you closer, his lips warm and firm against yours. he often has this effect on you, this feeling of intolerable longing and devotion and you part your lips slightly. his other thick arm wraps around you, holding you securely, his grip strong but his movements are careful, so utterly mindful of you.

the kiss lingers, and when you finally pull away, his hazel eyes meet yours, slightly dazed but filled with a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless. and aching.

intimacy is something that is...new to choso. when you first pressed your lips to cheeks, you thought that every blood cell in his body would explode, so flushed was he. and to your great amusement, he had mildly jumped. and so, you've never broached the topic of anything closer.

but god, you want him so bad.

"cho -," and your breathy purr of the nickname has the half-curse shifting up so he's no longer in your lap, but now chasing after your lips, leaning down so you're caged in his arms, and you run your hands up choso's arms, feeling solid and defined muscle beneath your clenched fingertips.

there's a slight roughness to his skin, and as your hands trail upwards, you notice how his muscles shift beneath your touch, taut yet responsive.

choso pulls away reluctantly from you, even half-curses need air, of course. but his lips are glossed, and slightly parted, in a deeper shade of blood-red. and a faint flush colours his pallid features, tousled and so beautifully undone that you bite your lips, hands fisted in the soft, woven fabric of his robes.

but now your boyfriend's large hands are moving with surprising gentleness as they fiddle with the hem of your own top, the roughness of his fingers curling into thin cotton, and each electric brush of his fingers against the light hair dusting your stomach sends bolts curling lower between your thighs.

"may i?" his voice is soft, laced with a quiet shyness but the rasp gives away the want that he must feel. and so, you nod and hope that he can't perceive how you tremble, hoping that he can't sense the way his hazel gaze pulls at you.

but he looks at you as if everything has fallen away, and you are no longer of this realm, but rather hanging the stars in the night sky for him.

and choso is now peeling the top away from your skin, and his eyes come to rest on your chest. at the sight of your perked nipples, his mouth parts slowly and softly, and you giggle at his awe. and so, you reach for his large hand and pull it closer to you, letting one hand cup your breast, "it's okay, baby. you can touch."

he releases a breathy "thank you," pressing his rose-bud lips gently to the tender skin of your chest. his kisses are insistent, and you sigh as he dips his mouth in between the shadow of your chest, "you're doing so well, choso." you don't miss at how your boyfriend's brows furrow in concentration, a tremor in his broad figure.

"hmmph," and choso separates his mouth from your sensitive breasts to speak clearer, "you're so beautiful." there is no pretense in his tone, no hesitation, "more than i could ever have imagined."

you curl your fingers in choppy mahogany hair, pulling him closer as he continues his ministrations, "yeah, have you imagined this?" and your tone is teasing, letting him release a wet laugh into your torso.

"do i have to say?" and choso looks up at you with hazy eyes, sharp canines peeking out from the corners of his mouth.

"mhmm, fuck!" turns out he's quite the biter.

hes leaving small bite marks on your neck and his teeth are surprisingly honed in on letting small bruises bloom on thin skin, marking you. small indentations and pressure on your chest and stomach leaving behind petals and flowers of stinging pink and cherry red.

"i have thought about it," and he's now soothing his tongue over the offended marks, "thought about you so much." and now his eyes are wider as he meets your gaze again, "is that wrong?"

you laugh, and a foggy burn and ache is settling between the apex of your thighs by now. but you want him to feel good first, to show him what it feels like to be pleasured. you press a single finger to his lips, watching as his disheveled gape reels in the surprise of being interrupted, "lean back, cho."

and he does, giving you the perfect opportunity to flip positions once more, switching so you are no longer caged by his arms, but rather straddling thick thighs that tense under his soft robes. his arms hover at his sides for a moment, and you can tell he's aching to run his hands over your topless torso once more, but they settle instead on your waist, fingers digging into the flesh above the crux of your spine.

he's fidgeting, shifting and you don't miss the quiet "please," that falls from his mouth in that low, gravel-hewn tone.

you poke a single fingernail into his neck, right above his bobbing adam's apple, letting the nail prick mildly and gently into his skin, "be patient."

your hands are in the waistband of his wide, loose pants and your hand moves past the soft brush of dark curls over his groin. for a while, you probe around his muscled thighs, running and flicking your fingertips over sensitive skin as he whines into your kisses.

"oh my god - i don't think i can...it feels so good -," and you think your boyfriend has never looked more tempting. choso's tearing down on his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth, and soon he's pulling on your lips, harshly kissing you.

you laugh, "you can, we've barely just begun." your hands find his cock, and you duck your face into his veined neck to hide your expression of surprise.

frankly putting it, it's massive. it's thick and girthy, and its practically throbbing in your fist. and choso's stuttering, jolting in your hold, "my love," and he draws out the name with such a shallow cry that you take pity on him, pulling on the silky, damp skin until its out of his pants, and hitting the cold air of the night.

"mhm," you lean down, ignoring the twinge in your back from the awkward position, "what do you want me to do, cho?" and you run your thumb over the fat head, "do you want me to do this?"

you press a soft, innocent kiss to the pulsing tip, before parting your lips ever so slightly to take the first inch into your mouth, drawing your lips back with a smack.

"haah - i...i didn't know you could do that, ah!" choso huffs, and you marvel at how he looks like a deity carved out of stone, one of perfection.

"i can do many things. like this," and you press the flat of your tongue in broad strokes to his cock, taking pride in how he's practically shuddering from your work.

truth be told, you just wanted to jump his bones and have him in you, like right now. but one look at the size, at the several girthy inches had you reeling. and you ignore the coiling tension, lifting your mouth away from his cock and he whimpers, a question dancing on his tongue.

you shift your weight back, leaning further against his bent knees as your boyfriend's gaze is...shaky. like he isn't sure where to look. how to take and drink you in. whether his eyes need to rest on your jostling chest, or....lower.

lower to where you've parted your legs, spreading your thighs while you straddle him. moving the laced edges of your underwear to the side, and you watch as choso's mouth falls open ever so slightly with a soft "oh!" like the air has been punched out of him.

"wan' you cho. want you so bad," and your right hands finds its way in between your thighs, brushing over hot slick, "but you're too big, you're gonna have to do something for me first," and you wonder, when did you start begging?

choso swallows thickly, eyes not moving from your drooling slit that glimmered with a faint sheen in the dim light, his tone dulcet, "what do you want me to do?"

you giggle again, pressing a kiss to his forehead briefly, "you're so helpful, baby. and here -," you take your index finger, tapping it briefly, once or twice on your clit, jolting from the stimulation, before running it through your sticky folds, "you just gotta do this for a while, just gotta keep this up, and then!"

you cut off your own sentence with a gasp, making sure choso's eyes are trained on you, as you dip your finger right past your walls, curling it upwards. not enough to hit that spongy patch, but enough to have you clenching down, "you just gotta do this too, cho. can add more fingers if you - hnngh, like!"

you need not say more, for the minute you retract your hand, his fingertips have already replaced yours, and you're suddenly twisting on him from the sudden contact. choso's good, fuck, he's good.

his touch is searing, as he explores the translucent gloss of your cunt, rolling his fingers through your folds and pressing his thumb down on your clit that makes you squeal, "ngh, cho. right there, fuck, that feels so good," and you're rolling your hips into him, at a steady pace.

"am i doing this right, pretty?" and choso's tone is petulant, achy, "is this right, is this, ohh, this good enough for you?" and how could you ever claim it wasn't? not when a thick finger is breaching your gummy walls, and then another — and his digits are pressing right into your pussy. if you were already this full, how would you take his cock?

"cho - cho!" you shake him out of his reverie, pulling his fingers out and away and he glowers up at you, apparently offended that you were the one depriving him of such bliss.

"you didn't finish. did i do something wrong?"

"felt so fuckin' good, baby. but i think i'll die if you're not in me, like right now," and you cock your own hips back and run your slick, weeping cunt over the hot skin of his cock as choso suddenly throws his head back, and he mutters something that you don't catch, a curse in an older dialect.

each inch, each press of his veiny cock working through your pussy has the two of you keening, and you're suddenly letting his arms wrap around you, hold you stable as you let him sheathe himself in to the hilt.

choso's hands bruise at your hips once more, and you're not quite sure what has shifted in your sweet, shy boyfriend, but now he's suddenly cockier, and a cunt-struck twisted grin is plastered on his face, as he bucks his hips up, giving you little time to adjust to his sheer size, "if i had known it was this good, hnngh, ah! would have - would have done this ages ago. so long ago..."

you hiccup, tittering as you run your hands through dark strands, "yeah, that good, huh cho? got you pussy whipped like this?"

"so much," choso nods, and his pink mouth is parted as he whines out, right after you squeeze down on his length, letting him knock and jostle around in your pussy, as his swollen tip kisses your cervix, "maybe i just am, hahh, whipped," and his fingers are still running obedient taps and swirls around your clit, big hands squirming to fit in between the space of your mound and his groin, "cherish you, you know? love you, love you so much."

you kiss him, deeply, letting his mouth ghost upwards trying to catch the faint trail of spit as you separate, "love you too, cho."

he's now set a more desparate rhythm that leaves you quaking in his hold, and the feeling of his cock massaging your inner walls has you seeing stars.

and it hits you like a knife, the sharp feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, milking the thick, white seed right out of him. you marvel at how choso's eyes roll back into his head and the most delicious groan is ripped out of him, one that you go to capture with your mouth, swallowing it up.

your own back arches as a wave of pleasure overtakes you, and leaves you shaking as you're pushed over the edge, and your heart is pounding so loudly, you can hear it in your eyes.

but choso makes no moves to shift you away from his cock, and instead he's letting out a rare laugh, one of joy, as you feel the sticky strings of his pearly cum coat the skin that presses into you.

"you're cute, cho."

his fingers are trailing faint little shapes on your chest, and you realise they're small hearts, and you bite back a grin at how your aged, half-curse, beautiful boyfriend finds romantic gestures with such ease.

"i think you're the most beautiful person in the entire world."

you mock-huff, smashing your lips against his once more, "wanna be on top this time?" surely, he can go another round?

#choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #works #🙂‍↔️#daphworks

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pearlywritings · 7 months ago

Text

Surprisingly

synopsis: for the public eye, the head of the Oak Family and his wife are a loving couple. In private they are astonishingly content with each other too.

pairing: Sunday x fem!reader

tw: fluff, arranged marriage, reader is halovian, established some time before the game quest on Penacony.

word count: 2.8k+ words

Nothing supports the man’s prestige and public image more than a proper marriage with a proper woman. So, I want you to meet this very woman, my child…

Two months, fifteen days and one hour. That’s exactly how long ago Sunday became a husband. A role he didn’t imagine himself playing, not with the role assigned to him from above. But, it was Gopher Wood - his adoptive parent basically, who brought you to him and announced his grand plan. And even if the head of the Oak Family had his doubts initially, a thorough conversation held with and without the Dreammaster, plus your immaculate background and some more specific matters proved to him that you were indeed chosen rightfully. He wasn’t sure if it was Mr Wood’s way of helping him, offering you as an aid at handling some of the work-related matters but with the seemingly perfect image of being wed - the elder gave no answers, however Sunday knew better than to question some of his schemes.

And so, your union was sealed. The ceremony wasn’t something exceptionally huge, none of you wanted that, but it was public enough for everyone and their mother to be talking about it. A couple of perfectly sterile interviews, some joint photos and three or four public appearances together, and people have been fooled enough to believe that.

That was enough.

Something as shocking as a wedding would avert the public eye and serve a great purpose in deceiving the people. After all, newlyweds are far too busy for one of them to be plotting something, right?

Right. So right, that Sunday himself was in a somewhat daze for the first week. But it’s understandable - on top of his regular responsibilities he had to prepare for the wedding and get to know the person he was about to spend life with better. Surprisingly, you turned out to be very understanding and supporting from day one, actively participating in whatever additional activity served on the man’s plate. It was weird, new and confusing, but above all he caught himself considering it not unwelcome.

You are astonishingly easy to work with. Well-versed in the matters of Family (but he shouldn't be all too surprised, given who brought you to him), soft, yet - when needed - firm spoken, not afraid to face the crowd in your husband's place for a public announcement and taking a portion of his responsibilities without any questions asked. If not for your interactions outside of all of that, Sunday would've thought you were his secretary and not a wife (but even a secretary wouldn't have known as much as you are aware of).

You are…comfortable. Sunday should really reproach himself for giving in so quickly, but it’s so hard not to. Maybe his vigilance is lulled with security of his patron’s choice or maybe it’s his own longing for normal civil interaction with someone close, but it didn’t take much time to start entertaining your sparks of curiosity.

Oh, how curious you are. Despite being trapped in a loveless marriage, you’ve been willing to learn about him from day one, trying to unfurl at least one tiny secret of his every day. He knows that because you are methodical, because you write it down (and you don’t hide the fact - when he, alarmed, asked or rather demanded you to show him that little notepad of yours, you just did so, with an explanation of your reasoning.)

Speaking of getting to know each other better… It’s still half an hour before your recently established tea time, but… But maybe he could summon you earlier?

I hope, my child, this woman will become your reprieve. You are not obligated to love her, see her as just a companion, but feel free to treat her as a continuation of yourself. I educated her to match you specifically, after all.

As a continuation of himself… Isn’t it cruel to speak such things of a sentient being? Isn’t it putting one into the position of submission?

Somehow it feels bitter on the tongue when he thinks of you.

His hand reaches for the bell, but promptly stops before the fingertips can touch the polished metal. Ah, of course, he asked to not be disturbed today. So, let him not violate his own order. He can find you on his own, not to mention, a small walk around the building might help clearing up his mind. Lately, he’s been thinking too much.

Spacious halls of the Dewlight Pavilion are empty, he knows as much, yet he hopes he won’t have to roam for too long, as the gloved hands push the doors of the meeting room. Today you two decided to work from the main Family residence in need of some materials here, and since no congregations were scheduled for the day, the building was all yours.

Each step of his is muffled by the carpet, lining the exactly 39 stairs, every next one lifting some of the weight from his shoulders and smoothing the deep frown of light gray brows. When his heels click on the small podium with the additional three steps, Sunday feels like his head is cleared.

Stepping on the carpet again, he finally ends up in the big hall with the 5 Lineages symbols and a big City Sandpit in the middle. Quickly fishing his phone out of the pocket, he swiftly unlocks the screen and finds your name in the recent calls, dialing it.

When did it happen that conversations with you outnumbered ones with his sister?

You pick up the phone after just two seconds.

“Hello? What is it, Sunday?”

Ah, straight to the point, he admires that. And the calmness of your tone is surprisingly grounding.

“I was wondering if you’d join me earlier,” he speaks softly, barely holding off from calling you ‘dear’. It’s not wrong for the spouses, but how would you react? He asks strange questions lately. “Tell me where you are, I’ll come fetch you.”

“To answer your first question, I’d love to,” the young man might lie to himself, but he swears he heard your voice sweeten just a little. It makes the little wings behind his ears flutter, which he is quick to still. “As for your second one, however, you might want to look down.”

Sunday follows your instruction without much thought, looking right at the red carpet covering the marble floor.

“...I don’t believe I understand.”

He hears you chuckle, a tinkling sound, lacking any malice. His left wing slightly jerks as the favorable noise fills his left ear through the phone.

“The City Sandpit, beautiful. I am not far from the origami birds’ nest.”

As he moves to round the table, your husband’s heart skips a beat. You called him beautiful, you have done so on multiple occasions already. You praised his intellect, you gently clapped for the perfect choice of the clothes for the day he made, you agreed with him on the most mundane things incorporated into your daily lives. And not once it felt forced or fake. You were surprisingly sincere with him - he would’ve thought that with the Dreammaster’s upbringing you’d have been all mastered flashy smiles and sickly sweet polished words.

But here you’ve been, admiring him in your own quite blunt kind of way.

He immediately spots your tiny figure among the fake buildings on the city’s layout. You are waving at him with a smile.

“Found me,” he hears again in the speaker, but now also from you as well.

“Found you,” Sunday echoes, reaching his free hand to you. When he curls his fingers, you understand and, clutching the strap of the bag hanging from your shoulder, carefully climb onto his open palm.

Your husband is careful, finishing the call and putting the phone aside, before cupping the other hand under the one holding your sitting figure. Bringing you closer to his eyes he can see all the little details on the pretty pale blue dress you left home in this morning, with your second pair of clipped wings wrapped around the waist like another skirt. Then his gaze skims along your neck, adorned in one of the pendants he gifted you and then up to the first pair of wings, bigger than his when you are your normal size.

He doesn’t have an opportunity to marvel over your intricate halo, because your eyes capture his in a vice, looking at him inquiringly.

“Didn’t expect you to take a break earlier. I thought you liked to stick to your routine.”

This was probably the first thing you learned about your back then betrothed.

“I do,” a tiny smile adorns his pale lips, “however, today I managed to wrap the most attention-requiring matters up earlier. Now only the mundane cases are left.”

“Good to hear that,” you hum, swinging your stocking-clad legs a little. His golden eyes look over your form once more, capturing the image of surprising comfortability in the hands of a bigger being, one that could crash your body so easily at the moment.

“I do wonder however about the reason behind your current predicament,” the male tilts his head in an inquiring way. “I believe I’ve never seen you enter the City Sandpit.”

Well, not to count the very first time he was giving you a tour.

“Oh, as I said, I know your routine, so I usually leave it before our meetings. I actually enter it quite often when we stay here,” is your answer that makes Sunday’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Pardon?”

“It’s easier to do paperwork this way,” motioning to the bag still on your shoulder, you then huff in annoyance. “If only you knew how eager your subordinates to bother me whenever you are unavailable. I am well-informed of my seeming position as the “lady-of-the-house”, but I’ve never signed up to be a link element between you and them, let alone a pawn in someone’s game of becoming first to seek your favor. Pardon me for my straightforwardness, but I much prefer interactions without actual feedback from the interlocutor if the situation doesn’t require otherwise. Except for you, of course.”

Except for him.

“You are my equal. You can always order them not to bother you,” drawing his hands closer to the chest, Sunday turns and starts walking closer to the table’s side where the gates are located.

“As if,” he glances down and catches just the end of your eye roll. “Mister Wood would have had my head if I ruined your picture as little as being distant from your inner circle. I’d much rather prefer just to hide away when needed and return to my secondary duties once I’m done with the primary.”

With the Dreammaker’s upbringing you would think a person can’t be as open-minded. Sunday is sure that it was no different from his - after all you have the clipped wings to match his. But, it seems, you found a way to temporarily escape from the suffocating clutches. Today he learnt a new thing about you, and, surprisingly it warms his soul instead of feeling repulsed.

He carefully puts you down just in front of the gates from the city’s side. Almost knocking off a little ”DO NOT TOUCH” card near it, your husband moves to the right to let you step out. And in a couple of seconds of blinding light you stand before him in all your tall glory.

“Thank you for making the trip across the city so much shorter,” you grin, shaking the bag’s strap down your shoulder and rolling it, before unwrapping the wings from around your waist and spreading them in a stretch.

“It was my pleasure,” his tone is even, yet the gaze with which he watches you move gives him out. To this day and probably for a long while the levels of intimacy that used to be unknown to him yet which you display are going to surprise him. Sunday almost feels an annoying twinge of upsetness when you rewrap your wings around the dress’s skirt. Though it lets him see a couple of ruffled feathers and he has to suppress the urge of his hand to reach and fix them for you.

Yes, there is some intimacy between you lately, but not close enough.

“If you give me a moment to drop off my papers, I’ll be swift in joining you,” your voice breaks the man out of his self-restraining thoughts, and he lifts his eyes from your waist back to your face.

“Ah, it won’t be necessary. I’d like to have our tea time back at the meeting room, I have some things to discuss with you.”

“So official,” you smile, taking a step to join his side. “Alright then, let us be on our way up. Would you like to fill me in on the agenda of our ‘meeting’?”

“Sure,” Sunday chooses to ignore your teasing, but habitually offers you his elbow to hook your arm in it. “My sister is going to visit soon and she seems to be quite pissed at me.”

“Miss Robin?” Your question is laced with puzzlement. “I assumed from your stories of her that she is hardly in a sour mood.”

“It is true, yes,” your husband sighs, leading you up the first set of stairs. “But I would’ve been mad too if my sibling had gotten married and I did not know a thing.”

“She does not know about us?”

The man nearly halts in his ascending. If he didn’t know better and where your thoughts and loyalties stood in this marriage, he would’ve believed you are offended that he kept such an important fact a secret from his only family member. Nevertheless, he continues his walking.

“I sent her an invitation, you know that. But it seems the planet she’s been on is pretty far away and she’s gotten my message only recently, on her way back. I loathe to admit it, but now I feel very bad and the situation itself is iunjust. I am aware we were in a rush, all because of the- you know why,” he sees you nod from the corner of his eye and feels your fingers carefully dig into his arm, “but Robin has always wanted to be a maid of honor at my wedding. And I ripped this opportunity from her.”

And I am not going to get married the second time. This he did not voice out loud.

For a moment you both fall silent. You get lost in thought, Sunday does so too, analyzing his own words, wondering if this speech of his was too personal, if it was painting him as weak in your eyes.

And his own.

You speak only when he reaches for the knob and twists in to swing the door open and lead you two inside.

“So, how much time do we have before she gets here?”

“Maybe a couple of days,” he breaks the lock of your arms and gets a hold on the strap, sliding the bag down your shoulder and turning to put it aside for the time being. “Why asking?”

“You are a good brother, I can see that, “ ah, here you are, praising him again. “And it’s obvious you care for your sister and wish to give her the world. I suggest organizing a small party for her. This way she could experience what she missed and get familiar enough with me. I can negotiate with Mister Wood, I am sure I can convince him - he has some sort of a soft spot for you, Sunday.”

Surprisingly, it twists something uncomfortable in the halovian’s stomach.

“It sounds… delightful. However, are you certain you’d like to go to such lengths for Robin?”

“Well, she is your sister,” you chose the table farthest from the one your husband has been working at and grab the back of the chair to move it so you could sit, “and I am your wife. I’d love her to believe in us too. If I am not overstepping, of course.”

That’s actually not a bad idea. If almost four months ago someone - even you - suggested he let his sister and future wife meet, he’d be hesitant. He knows his little sister, he knows how perceptive she is - he is not so sure he wouldn’t have cracked under her inquisitive questions about whether he was happy with the arrangement or not. Plus leaving her sad and aching for brother if he let her know of the unjustness of the situation and still chose to proceed with the wedding is just too much for him.

Now he, at least, will not be lying that he is content if being asked.

“I accept your offer and thank you profusely for it,” Sunday slightly bows his head, to which you shake yours, reaching your hand out to beckon him to join you.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll have time to thank me later, once we’ve already done something, alright?”

Surprisingly… It is indeed alright.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x fem!reader #hsr sunday #hsr fluff

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