#Though‚ you're already holding the answer‚ aren't you?
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aishangotome · 14 hours ago
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[Nokto] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 2
Part 1
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Emma: Could it be that the sender of this book is... Nokto?
Nokto: Nope. It's not me.
Emma: Oh, is that so...
Even though I expected it, Nokto's overly casual reply left me speechless, still holding the book.
(But I do have my own reasons for thinking it might be Nokto.)
(Anyway, let's keep talking.)
Emma: I was thinking...
Emma: Since they're always books I like, I think the sender must be someone who knows me well.
Nokto: There are other people who know your tastes well, aren't there? Like Rio.
Emma: I think he does know them well, but if it were Rio, he would give them to me directly...
Emma: And when I tell you a book has arrived, Nokto, you always look happy, don't you?
Nokto: When you're happy, I'm happy. I think that's natural, isn't it?
Emma: Mm... That's certainly true, but...
Emma: But you always ask me if I like the content of the book every time one arrives, don't you? Even though you usually don't care that much.
Nokto: It's only natural for me to want to know more about you as your lover.
Nokto: Were you that suspicious?
Emma: Ah, I wasn't suspicious... Of course I was happy to be asked for my impressions!
Even though I hurriedly denied it, Nokto smiled mischievously, making me feel like I was being toyed with in the palm of his hand.
(I have a feeling it's definitely Nokto... Hmm, how can I get him to tell me?)
(Let's try a little harder...)
Emma: Ah...!
Suddenly, the books I was holding were snatched away.
Nokto: You're being cold, thinking only about books.
Nokto: So, this conversation is over.
Nokto: Pay attention to your lover in front of you, not the sender of the books.
Nokto: Or are you deliberately trying to make me jealous and melt into a puddle?
Emma: Eh?
Nokto: Ah, I knew it. Sorry I didn't notice.
Emma: No, that's not it at a—Wa, hey, Nokto!?
The books were placed on the side table, and in no time I was pushed down onto the bed.
He sensually stroked my stomach over my skirt, and my body instantly heated up.
Nokto: See, you were hoping for it. The look on your face right now, you're already starting to melt thinking about what's coming next.
Emma: That's not true... Ah!
Nokto: You're stubborn, aren't you? I love that you haven't changed at all in that way.
(Honestly... Nokto is the stubborn one.)
Emma: Ah...
At the same time that he pushed my legs up with his knee, then he stole my lips.
My mind immediately melted with the deep, intense kiss...
Nokto: Resume talking about books, or let me make love to you right now.
Nokto: Which would you prefer?
(That's not fair... There's only one answer.)
With trembling hands, I grabbed Nokto's shirt.
Emma: ...I want Nokto.
Nokto: Good girl. Well done.
Nokto: As you wish, I'll love you until you lose consciousness.
In the end, the talk about the sender of the books was pushed out of my mind.
*flashback over*
-
A few days after that, I was visiting a bookstore in town.
This bookstore, a favorite of mine since I was a child, gives me a sense of security and nostalgia just by entering it.
*flashback*
(Rio told me that he saw Nokto come to this bookstore, didn't he?)
(If I knew that he chose those books here, it would be certain that Nokto was the sender, but...)
Bookstore owner: I don't know anything.
Emma: But Rio said that Nokto came here.
Bookstore owner: Maybe he mistook him for someone else. More importantly, I have a book I want to recommend to you, Miss Emma.
(It's hard to imagine Rio mistaking Nokto for someone else. And the shopkeeper's attitude... Could it be...?)
Emma: Um, did you talk to Nokto about something?
Bookstore owner: Not at all.
Emma: Or maybe he was told not to tell anyone...
Bookstore owner: I-I have no idea what you're talking about...
(This is going nowhere! Is there a better way to ask...?)
Determined not to end up like I did when I asked Nokto, I desperately rack my brain.
(How about trying some leading questions? No, that's too advanced for me right now...)
(Ahhh, if only I had learned more negotiation skills from Nokto, I could have extracted information from the shopkeeper!)
Bookstore owner: ...Miss Emma, you look happy.
Emma: ? Yes, I'm very happy.
I feel a little embarrassed by the words that slipped out so easily.
Bookstore owner: When I heard the rumor that you had caught the eye of a royal, I was worried about what would happen, but seeing your face today has put my mind at ease.
Bookstore owner: I've known you since you were a little girl, so I was worried.
Clearing his throat gently, the shopkeeper seems to think for a moment.
Bookstore owner: ... Lately, I've had many opportunities to get my hands on some delicious alcohol.
Emma: Alcohol, is it?
(Why bring that up all of a sudden...?)
Bookstore owner: A man comes by with alcohol as a gift. And he chooses a few books.
Bookstore owner: The man always picks up romance novels, and they're all the kind that Miss Emma would like.
Emma: !
Bookstore owner: Watching him like that has been one of my recent pleasures.
("In exchange for alcohol, don't tell anyone I'm coming to the bookstore.")
(Nokto must have said that.)
(That's why the shopkeeper gave me this roundabout hint.)
However, there's still no definitive proof that the man is Nokto.
(It's no use mentioning his name directly. Then...)
An idea comes to mind.
Emma: Could that man be––
.
.
.
Part 3
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valleymyristica · 2 months ago
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Okay, I have so many questions I could explode. How much does our beloved fairy family miss Timmy?
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Hihihi, glad to have so many questions spreading in your head
Makes me happy to hear, Glad the story is taking over your mind, like a cordyceps Hahaha
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As for your question,
They all miss him dearly, especially Peri, he may have been young, but that doesn't change the fact that he missed his brother so. His brother is part of the reason he wanted to become a fairy godparent. It's the family business after all.
He wants to make other kids happy just like Timmy. Every kid deserves a smile! Every kid deserves to be happy! Peri wants to help! Timmy was always so happy with him around, so, obviously, he's good with kids. He got this!
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For Cosmo and Wanda, it was a little more like loosing a dog, they knew he couldn't stay with them forever, they knew that time was limited, and they had accepted that part.
It still hurt though. It had hurt so much, it had been so much worse than any other godchild. Timmy was pretty much their adopted son. Of course they still miss him.
They cherish every memory they made with Timmy
They'll never forget him, but in a way, they're also happy. Timmy deserves a happy fulfilling life. He deserves so much. That's all they truly want for him, him being happy. That's all they've ever wanted for him. In a way, they hope they were able to give that too him.
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cumironi · 4 months ago
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MY LITTLE VIRGIN ! ❞
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GOJO SATORU , your used to be upperclassmen who happened to be your friends-with-benefits teaching you how to kiss, also the one who took your virginity.
warning. highschool! gojo satoru ( early twenty and you are nineteen ), virginity lost, fingering, raw/unprotected sex.
wc. 2,8k
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“hehe... it's amusing how you're still clueless about kissing,” gojo remarked, seated on your bed. his fingers traced along your neck, gently moving up to your chin. in your friends-with-benefits dynamic, you'd sought gojo's guidance on kissing, a proposition he willingly accepted.
“prepare for the best kiss of your life,” gojo chuckled, leaning in closer to your face. lifting your chin, he gazed at your lips with a playful glint in his eyes. blushing profusely under gojo's intense gaze, you nervously lick your lips. “i'm ready, satoru. . .” your voice wavers slightly as you try to maintain eye contact with him.
gojo smirks at your nervousness, finding it endearing. he leans in, closing the distance between your faces until his breath caresses your skin. gojo's smirk widens as he notices your blush deepening. his thumb gently brushes against your lower lip, parting them slightly. “nervous? there's no need to be. just relax and let me guide you...”
with those words, gojo closes the remaining gap between you. his lips meet yours in a tender yet passionate kiss. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your head for better access as he deepens the kiss.
after a moment, he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “like this... follow my lead and let instinct take over.” feeling overwhelmed but also strangely exhilarated by gojo's expert touch, you nod, trying to follow his instructions. your hands tentatively reach up to rest on his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he continues to guide you through the kiss.
as he pulls away again, you can't help but whimper softly in protest. but then you see that teasing smile on his lips and realize there's more to come. his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, gojo chuckles softly at your reaction. “oh? did you want more already?”
without waiting for an answer, he captures your lips once again in another searing kiss. this time though, he adds a new element— his tongue slips past your parted lips seeking entrance into your mouth. the sensation is overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. you find yourself responding eagerly, mimicking gojo’s movements as if driven by some primal urge.
pulling back after what seems like eternity but was probably mere seconds, gojo gazes down at you with satisfaction. “see? that wasn’t so bad now was it?” but before giving you time to respond, he leans in once more for another tantalizing kiss.
moaning softly into the kiss, you wrap your arms around gojo's neck, pulling him closer. your body feels electrified from the intimate contact, and you can't get enough of his taste, his scent, the way he makes you feel.
when he finally breaks the kiss again, you're left panting and dazed, struggling to regain your composure. “th-that was... s-satoru,” you manage to stammer out, your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. looking up at gojo with hooded eyes, you bite your lip and murmur, “more please... teach me everything...”
a low chuckle rumbles from within gojo's chest as he takes note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. “mmm... you're quite the eager student aren't you?” he leans down to capture your lips once more in a long, slow kiss that leaves both of you breathless when it ends. pulling back slightly, gojo looks into your eyes with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.
“i’ll teach you everything... but remember, practice makes perfect. so let's keep practicing until we've perfected this art form together.” and without waiting for another word from you, he dives back into another passionate kiss— this time taking things even further than before.
lost in the whirlwind of sensations, you forget all about being shy or inexperienced. all that matters right now is gojo and the way he makes your entire body tingle.
your hands roam freely across his back, feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. you press yourself closer to him, wanting nothing more than to lose yourself completely in this kiss. every flicker of gojo's tongue against yours sends sparks shooting throughout your body. each brush against your sensitive lips draws moans from deep within your throat.
breaking away from the kiss momentarily, you gasp for air while looking up at gojo with lust-filled eyes. “more... please don't stop...” gojo grins wolfishly at your plea, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, “as you wish...”
he trails hot kisses along your jawline and down the column of your throat, occasionally nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. one of his hands slides underneath your shirt, skimming over your stomach and ribcage before cupping your breast.
at the same time, his knee nudges your legs apart as he settles himself between them. the pressure of his hips against yours sends jolts of pleasure through your core. returning to your lips, gojo kisses you deeply, passionately, pouring all of his desire into the embrace. when he finally pulls away, you're both panting heavily.
“how do you feel now? ready for round two?”
your mind is foggy with lust, unable to process coherent thoughts beyond the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. all you know is that you crave more of gojo's touch, more of his kisses, more of everything he's doing to you.
arching into his touch, you press your breast harder against his palm, silently begging for more stimulation. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard length of gojo's thigh. when he asks if you're ready for round two, you can only nod frantically, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form words. your lips seek his out once more, demanding another scorching kiss.
this time, as your tongues dance, you start to explore gojo's mouth with yours, learning the contours and depths of him. a satisfied growl escapes gojo as he feels your breasts pressing into his hand and your hips grinding against him. he loves seeing how responsive you are to his touches, how eager you are for more.
sliding one finger down from your breast, he teases along the waistband of your pants before dipping beneath the fabric. his digit traces lazy circles against your heated flesh, drawing soft whimpers from deep within your throat.
breaking off from the kiss, gojo looks down at you with a burning desire in his eyes. “let's make sure this second round is even better than the first...” with those words, he plunges two fingers inside you, curling them upwards to stroke that sweet spot hidden within. at the same time, his thumb finds its way to your clit and begins circling slowly around it.
“feel good?”
a loud moan tears itself from your throat as gojo's fingers delve deeper, hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know existed. your back arches off the bed, pushing your chest towards him. his thumb on your clit is pure torture— each circle sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. it feels incredible, too much and not nearly enough all at once.
your nails dig into gojo's back, leaving red marks where they claw at his skin. “‘toru. . .” you gasp out between moans, “feels so good...” your hips move instinctively against his hand, chasing after that elusive climax that seems tantalizingly close but always just out of reach.
gojo's eyes darken with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. he loves seeing you like this— completely uninhibited and at his mercy. “that's it baby, let go. give in to the pleasure...”
he increases the speed of his fingers, pumping them in and out of you at a rapid pace. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. gojo leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. his other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.
“come for me. i want to feel you fall apart on my fingers.”
the combination of gojo's relentless fingering and relentless thumbing sends shockwaves of ecstasy crashing through your body. every thrust of his fingers, every circle of his thumb pushes you higher and higher until there's no turning back. a strangled cry rips from your throat as you finally tip over the edge. your walls clench around gojo's fingers in rhythmic spasms, pulsating with each wave of orgasmic bliss that washes over you.
your entire world narrows down to the feeling of gojo's fingers inside you and his thumb working magic on your clit. the pleasure is so intense, so overpowering that it threatens to consume you whole. as the last tremors subside, you collapse back onto the bed— spent yet utterly satisfied.
gojo continues to pump his fingers slowly inside you as you come down from your high, milking every last drop of your release. once your spasms have ceased, he withdraws his fingers with a satisfied smirk.
“look at you, coming undone so beautifully for me. you took your lesson well, i must say.”
he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your essence off them with a low hum of appreciation. “delicious. . .” leaning over you, gojo captures your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting you taste yourself on him. after a moment, he pulls back with a mischievous glint in his eye, “but we're far from done, sweetheart. there are still plenty more lessons to be learned... and i'm just getting started.”
even though you're still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, a fresh wave of arousal surges through you at gojo's words. the thought of what else he might teach you sends tingles racing down your spine.
you manage to push myself up onto your elbows, your heavy-lidded gaze locked onto gojo's handsome face. “show me, teach me everything...” without waiting for him to respond, you reach down and unbutton your pants with shaky hands. the cool air hits my overheated skin as you peel off your clothes piece by piece, exposing more and more of yourself to gojo’s hungry eyes.
your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you lay bare before him— vulnerable yet filled with anticipation for whatever comes next. watching you strip off your clothes, gojo's cock twitches eagerly against his own trousers. he lets out a low chuckle, admiring the sight of your flushed skin and swollen breasts.
“i love seeing you like this— open and willing. it's incredibly arousing...” he moves closer, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he takes in every inch of exposed flesh. reaching out, he runs a single finger down the center line of your body from collarbone to belly button, savoring the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch.
“now, let's see how well you can please someone.”
with that said, gojo starts unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. his throbbing member springs free— long and thick— standing proudly erect against his lower abdomen.
“are you ready to take me on?”
your breath hitches in your throat as you watch gojo undo his belt and unzip his trousers. the sight of his erect member makes your pussy clench in longing. in response to his question, you nod vigorously, unable to form words due to the intense desire clouding your senses.
you reach out tentatively towards him, wanting nothing more than to wrap your fingers around his shaft and guide it towards your needy entrance. but instead of taking control, you wait patiently for him to initiate contact again.
as you lie there before him— naked and wanting— anticipation builds within you like never before, finally realizing that gojo is going to be the one who took your virginity. gojo smirks at your eagerness, enjoying the way you stare hungrily at his manhood. he steps out of his trousers and kicks them aside, revealing himself fully to you.
“there's no need to rush... we've got all night.”
he positions himself between your spread legs, leaning down to tease the head of his cock against your slick folds. the tip rubs gently against your clit, spreading your wetness across both areas. looking up into your eyes, gojo gives you a wicked grin, “relax and enjoy the ride...”
slowly, he begins pushing into you— stretching your tight walls deliciously wide around him. each inch that enters fills you up more completely than anything ever has before.
“feels fucking amazing doesn’t it?”
“fuck!” you cried in pain the moment he's bottomed out inside you. your nails digging into his biceps and eyes tightly shut from the pain of your virginity being taken with his massive cock.
at your sharp intake of breath and pained cry, gojo pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the sudden fullness. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, offering reassurance despite the fierce grip of your nails on his arms.
“shh, it's okay... just breathe. you're doing great.”
once you seem more comfortable, he carefully starts to rock his hips, withdrawing slightly before pressing back in at a slower, more controlled pace. the movement helps ease the initial discomfort, gradually building the pleasurable friction between your joined bodies.
“see? this isn't so bad, is it? in fact, it feels pretty damn good already...” as gojo starts moving, the initial pain begins to fade, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation. it's almost like your body is remembering how to accommodate something so large inside you.
you manage a weak nod, still struggling to catch your breath, “y-yeah... it's okay now. . .” emboldened by the gentle rhythm, you start to move your hips in sync with gojo's, meeting him thrust for thrust. a soft moan escapes your lips as the pressure builds anew, this time centered on the sweet spot deep within you that he seems to hit perfectly with every stroke.
mindlessly, you tangle your fingers in his white hair, pulling him down for a desperate, clinging kiss as if trying to merge your very souls together through the intimate act. gojo grins against your lips, pleased by your growing responsiveness. he deepens the kiss further, tasting your sweetness while continuing his steady thrusts.
“that's right... let go and feel everything...”
he breaks away from the kiss only to trail hot kisses down along your jawline and neck. with each downward stroke of his tongue against sensitive skin, he matches it with another slow plunge into your welcoming depths.
feeling your inner muscles clenching around him drives gojo wild; he can tell that despite being a novice at sex, you were born for this kind of pleasure. the combination of gojo's relentless thrusts and teasing kisses sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your mind becomes a blur of sensations— the feeling of him filling you completely, the sound of his low growls echoing in your ears, even the scent that surrounds you is intoxicating.
a loud gasp tears itself from your throat as he finds that perfect spot again and again, causing sparks to fly behind your closed eyelids, “oh god! ’toru. . .”
your entire focus narrows down to the point where they connect— it's overwhelming but also addictive. you find yourself arching up into him instinctively, urging him deeper.
“please don't stop. . .”
hearing you beg for more spurs gojo on, his movements becoming more urgent and powerful. he grips your hips firmly, using the leverage to piston into you at a frenzied pace.
“fuck, you feel incredible, so tight and wet for me.” his harsh breathing mingles with yours as he chases his impending climax, driven mad by the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping his cock. “gonna fill you up so g-good, baby, mark you as mine...”
gojo's thrusts grow erratic as he nears the edge, his balls drawing up tight against his body. with a final, brutal shove, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and holds still, roaring out his release as hot jets of cum flood your insides.
your whole body trembles violently beneath gojo as his seed floods your womb. the intense heat and pressure trigger an explosive orgasm in you, sending shockwaves of pure bliss radiating outward from your core.
your inner walls clench and flutter around his pulsing length, milking him for all he's worth. a strangled scream rips from your throat as wave after wave crashes over you, leaving you drenched in sweat and utterly spent.
“oh fuck! s-ah!atoru!”
as reality slowly comes back into focus, you realize just how deeply connected you two are at this moment— physically, emotionally and spiritually. there's no turning back now; you've been claimed by him in every possible way.
collapsing onto you, gojo lets out a satisfied sigh as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. he plants tender kisses along your collarbone and chest, marking you as his own in ways beyond mere physical possession.
“that was... incredible.”
still buried deep within you, he slowly starts to withdraw from your clenching walls, allowing them to stretch and contract around his softening member. each pull sends another jolt of pleasure through your system, prolonging the high.
“feel better now?”
despite having just given you the most intense experience of your life, gojo looks at you with genuine concern and affection. after he collapses onto you, his heavy weight provides a comforting warmth against your cooling skin. his chest rises and falls rapidly against your breasts, matching the frantic beating of your heart.
despite the exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being, there’s an undeniable satisfaction that settles deep within you. you run your fingers lazily through his disheveled hair, feeling proud yet vulnerable at having given yourself so completely to him.
“that was... incredible,” you murmur softly, give him a tired smile, looking up into those captivating blue eyes filled with raw desire and affection.
with a contented sigh, gojo leans down to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. his tongue sweeps against yours softly, savoring the taste of you mixed with the musk of their combined arousal.
“mmm, i knew you'd be amazing...”
he pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, his expression a mix of pride, adoration, and possessiveness, “you're mine now, in every sense of the word. never forget that.” gojo rolls off of you and gathers you close, cradling your body against his as he strokes your hair soothingly, “rest now, my little virgin. we've got a lifetime of pleasure ahead of us.”
nestled securely in gojo's embrace, you let out a happy sigh, feeling safe and cherished in his strong arms. your eyelids grow heavy as the aftermath of your intense lovemaking washes over you, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
in your dreams, you see flashes of the future— moments stolen from time, memories made with gojo, and a love that transcends the boundaries of life and death. when you awaken, you know without a doubt that you belong to him, and he to you, forevermore.
as you drift off to sleep nestled against him, gojo watches over you protectively. he runs his hand gently across your back, marveling at how different things could have turned out had he not intervened earlier today.
but fate brought you here, together. and though he may be many things— powerful mage, leader of jujutsu high school— nothing compares to how much he cares for this fragile human girl now lying trustingly beside him.
he smiles softly as he listens to your quiet breathing, knowing that whatever challenges await them both, they will face them side by side. for better or worse, you are his now.
“sleep well, my love.”
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prael · 4 months ago
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Touch
Kinktember Day 9: Spa
Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut
words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist
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"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.
"No, why? Is she famous or something?"
"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.
"Did you get her name?"
"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"
"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."
"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"
And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."
A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.
As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"
"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."
"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.
"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"
"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.
The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."
"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.
"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.
"I serve, not control."
"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."
"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."
"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."
You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.
With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.
"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."
"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.
"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.
There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."
You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.
As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.
You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.
She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.
Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.
Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.
"Now, your body, Dani."
Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"
"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"
Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.
"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."
Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.
Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—
Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.
"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.
She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.
"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."
"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.
"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.
"I just sit?"
"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"
"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.
You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.
"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.
"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.
"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.
You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.
"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."
"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.
You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.
"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.
You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.
"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."
She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.
She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.
"Dani, the towel..."
"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.
"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."
You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."
"Miss— I—"
"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.
The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.
Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.
She hums in delight.
With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.
There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.
When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.
"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.
"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.
Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.
You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.
Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"
You agree.
You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.
"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.
Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.
The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.
Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.
She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.
You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."
Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.
One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.
Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.
"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"
You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.
"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."
That's all it takes.
How could you deny her?
Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.
"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.
"Never," you bluff.
Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.
"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.
Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.
"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."
She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.
You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.
"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.
Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.
You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.
"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.
"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.
She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.
You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.
"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.
It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.
More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?
You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.
She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.
You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."
"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."
"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."
"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."
Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."
Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.
Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.
Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.
Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.
Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.
Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.
She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.
Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.
Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.
The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."
You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.
The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.
Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.
Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.
"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.
Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."
And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.
She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.
You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.
You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.
"Dani, fuck," you groan.
"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."
Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.
"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.
She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.
Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.
"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."
In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.
"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.
Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.
She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.
You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.
"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.
So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.
Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.
Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.
She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.
Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.
Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.
"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.
Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.
Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."
This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.
You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.
Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.
It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.
Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.
You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.
Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.
"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.
"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."
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kalims · 9 months ago
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⊹ giving them flowers
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premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3
content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)
featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.
note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)
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jamil gives you a look.
he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.
but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.
"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.
"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.
he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"
perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.
and that they're from, or gifted to another person.
you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"
"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"
you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.
a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.
... he just tripped over his words.
jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.
okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?
whatever he'll make it work.
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you should've expected this.
despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.
even though he probably already thinks that anyways.
you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)
sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.
you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.
sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'
he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"
was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.
your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.
you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.
—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.
"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.
even he looked surprised!
"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."
he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.
he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.
you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.
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for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.
but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.
"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.
it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."
you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?
riddle squints. "why?"
you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."
then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.
riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.
your raised brows say yes.
it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.
silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.
and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.
"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"
"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."
you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.
he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."
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you can barely see azul.
or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?
you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.
"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.
the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.
azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.
"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."
your brows furrow. what.
"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."
that's... concerning.
"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."
he says all that, with a pink face.
you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.
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cassidyandonlycassidy · 6 months ago
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tornadoes aren't more important than you
tyler owens (twisters) x reader
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words: 1.5k
warnings: pregnant!reader, married!reader, established relationship
“be careful, yeah?” you place your hands on tylers cheeks, tilting his head down to look you in the eye.
“i wish you could come with me.” tyler sighs, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours, his cowboy hat tipping upwards and off his head, clattering onto the hardwood.
“i know.” you miss it. the excitement, the fear, the anticipation of storm chasing. “but i don't think the baby would like me getting whipped around.”
tyler chuckles and presses his hands to your stomach, fully showing now that you've reached six months.
“im gonna be safe and im gonna be back home to you real soon.” tyler kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you in close.
“uh, not to interrupt-” 
“you are interrupting, boone.” tyler looks up at him as he stands in the open doorway, trucks filling the driveway.
“we were just finishing saying goodbye.” you raise to your tiptoes and give tyler one more peck. 
“i love you.” you whisper against your husbands lips.
“i love you, baby.”
“ew.” boones nose scrunches up, still somehow not used to seeing you kiss despite being married for a year now.
“you stay safe too boone.” you point at him, watching as they head out the door and pile in the trucks.
you wave goodbye to everyone, tyler getting in last as he tips his hat he grabbed off the floor towards you, a silent promise to come back home.
you sigh as you watch them pull away, hand stroking over your belly as the trucks disappear in a cloud of dirt. “it's okay.” you whisper to the baby, but it's mostly for yourself. “daddy will be back.”
--
“hey.” you answer the phone with a smile on your face. “i watched the live stream.”
“pretty fucking cool huh?” 
“pretty cool that you let boone drive the rig.” you chuckle, knowing tyler did that specifically for you, to show you that he can let others take the lead, let them be the one to drive into the tornado.
“how's my baby doing?” tyler asks, ignoring your teasing.
“which one?” you giggle, laying a hand on your stomach. “im good, baby is kicking a lot though.”
“put me on speaker.” tyler requests. you roll your eyes but still turn the volume up and hold the speaker up to your belly.
“it's daddy.” tylers voice is half strict and half high baby voice. “you better stop giving your mama grief when im not there to help her. behave for just a bit longer, buddy.”
“i hope he listens to you.” you shake your head, bringing the phone back up. “how's the storms looking for tomorrow?”
“tracking a couple cells.” tyler confirms. “im coming home friday no matter what they look like over the weekend.”
“mhm, sure.” you roll your eyes, although you don't doubt it. now that you're pregnant, tyler is even more protective over you. he knows you can handle anything, but that doesn't mean he's going to force you to do it all on your own.
“i will. already miss that pretty face baby.” his country twang is music to your ears as you hum out.
“i miss you too. miss kissing your lips.”
“you're killing me, sugar.” tyler groans. you hear dani shouting something in the background.
“i-”
“you gotta go. i know. love you.”
“love you more, darling.”
--
you have tylers livestream on in the background as you clean the house, feeling the urge to nest and get everything prepared before you're too pregnant to do anything, and tyler certainly wouldn't let you lift a finger when hes home.
you always dreamt of a beautiful old farmhouse like this all your life, but before you could move in tyler insisted on building a proper storm shelter to keep you safe.
you unpack some of the boxes of things you bought for the baby's room, sticking to yellows and oranges to keep everything brightly colored and cohesive, in contrast to the darkening sky.
you're not right in the path of tornados, but they have been known to swing up and hit the closest town every couple years.
you know the cloudy sky is just a result of all the activity further to the west where your husband currently is.
you look back to your phone, watching for a moment as his handsome face turns to look out the window. you can see the reflection of the twister in his eyes, a mix of awe struck and fear that any man within his right mind would feel.
“god-” you look up to the ceiling. you're not the biggest believer, but growing up in the south has you always reverting to whispering a prayer. “keep my husband safe.”
--
you let out a yawn as you adjust, not knowing for sure the sound that woke you up until you hear it again, your cellphone vibrating on the nightstand.
“hello?” your voice is groggy as you answer. you didn't bother to look at the contact name, there's only one person who would be calling you at this hour. “tyler?”
“baby, get to the storm shelter right now.”
“what?” the words have you instantly awake, hopping to your feet and looking out the window of your second story bedroom. “it looks fine.”
“im- just trust me! are you going?” you can hear the nerves in tyler's voice as well as the roaring of his truck no doubt speeding down the road.
“yes.” you confirm, grabbing one of tylers sweatshirts and slipping it over your head before finding a pair of shoes. “im going down the stairs right now.”
the second you step outside, you can feel the shift in the air.
“im tracking it on the data. we reported it but they said it's not on their maps as if our equipment isn't ten years newer.”
you listen to tylers rant as you round the house to pull open the storm shelter doors. it's not a glamorous area, small and tight but completely concrete and filled with a couple boxes of supplies.
“im in the shelter, ty.” you reassure him as you close the latch. “im safe. the babys safe.”
“it's building.” tyler says, no doubt looking at the radar or getting reports fed to him from boone. “im coming home to you, ill be there in two hours. fuck it, make it an hour and a half.”
“it's wednesday.” you state, although its just after midnight so technically thursday. “you said you weren't coming home until friday.”
“that was before a torando was gonna hit you. baby, i don't want you to go through this alone when you're pregnant.”
“ill be fine.” you reassure tyler. “but if you want to come back and make sure, you're more than welcome. like i said, i miss your lips.”
“gonna give you lots of kisses to make up for being gone.”
“i won't argue with that.” your phone beeps and you pull it away from your ear to realize you're losing service. “i think we are going to disconnect soon.”
“stay on as long as you possibly can.”
you try, but your phone beeps again and the call drops out.
sitting alone in the darkness heightens your other senses, feeling the cold air sneaking in through every available crack as your ears pick up the sound of the wind roaring.
you close your eyes and press your hands against your stomach, softly singing a nursery rhyme that your mother sung to you when you were a baby, your eyes sliding closed as you fall back asleep.
--
you're startled awake suddenly as the door rips open, only for tyler to quickly enter.
“is it over?” you ask, standing up and wobbling slightly. tyler grabs your hips, holding you up and looking at you up and down, his eyes examining you. you watch the stress and fear and anxiety melt away to be replaced with softness and love.
“it's over.” he confirms, tugging you in close. 
“the house?”
“a busted window and a downed tree blocking the driveway. that's all.” tyler presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent.
“wasn't bad then.” you wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying the warm embrace.
“no, but i got so fucking scared knowing you were here all alone.” tyler pulls away only to help you up the stairs, hating seeing you confined to the shelter even if it is to keep you safe.
“i just… i can't do this while you're pregnant. i can't leave you here, or anywhere, alone knowing something could happen to you.”
tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket and navigates to his youtube channel, going live and waiting for a couple users to join.
he holds the camera up so he can see himself and you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.
“as you folks know, my lovely wife here is pregnant with our first child. as much as i love tornado wrangling, i love my girl more. for the next six months im going to be taking a step back, but don't unsubscribe, boone is taking over to keep the excitement coming.”
he doesn't even say goodbye, simply ending the livestream, knowing one of his followers surely recorded it to spread the news around.
“ty, you didn't have to do that.”
“yes, i did.” tyler bends down to lift you up, carrying you across the threshold of your house just like he did the day you got married. “im gonna be with you throughout everything. tornados aren't more important than you.”
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seumyo · 7 months ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58
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No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.
You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!
Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 
Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.
“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”
He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.
“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”
“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.
You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!
Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.
Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 
Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.
“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”
“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”
“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”
“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”
You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”
And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 
“She’s a natural, hun.”
“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”
“Damn right, she is.”
Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.
It’s all too much for him to take.
And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 
“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”
“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”
The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 
Time spent with his family.
Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.
“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 
“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”
“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
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bbokicidal · 2 months ago
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"What is That?" | SKZ | [B.C.]
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Notes: Based off of the selfies Chris has sent on bubble in the last few days after their Tokyo concerts - and how he said he acquired the Wolfchan hat. ;]
Warnings: None Genre: Fluff Pairing: Bangchan x Reader Word Count: 900
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"...Christopher." The speed at which your boyfriend whips around to face you seems like it should've given the poor man a broken neck. With his cheeks full of sandwich and the food itself tucked into his hands near his chest, dark eyes stare in circular saucers at where you stand in the living room. "What is that?"
"Babe!" He peeps, the word muffled with his mouthful of ham and cheese. "I thought you went out with a few friends for lunch, so I made myself a sandwich." Chris' eyes fall to his hands before he decides to carefully set the food on a small plate lingering on the island.
Your brow cocks in interest. "I wasn't talking about the sandwich."
Wide eyes blinking in confusion, the two of you hold eye contact for a good few moments before his head tips curiously as if asking what you were referring to. Your hand lifts to your temple, the tip of your index finger slowly tapping along your hair. As he swallows down his food, Chris lifts a hand to mimic the action but pauses when he feels something soft that definitely is not his hair.
He realizes then that you were talking about the hat currently tucking down his curls; Grey, fluffy - Wolfchan ears.
"Oh!"
A smile blossoms over your lips. Your arms cross over your chest as if waiting for an answer and your boyfriend doesn't hesitate in beginning to explain. "It's a hat I wore at the concert in Tokyo last weekend when we did our outfits SKZoo themed! Do you like it? Isn't it cute?~"
And you giggle, carefully shaking your head at just how adorable your boyfriend can be. Hard to believe he's the one taking his shirt off at every concert he performs in. "Very. But aren't those wardrobes for concerts only? How'd you get them to let you have it?"
The silence that follows - along with the way Chris' eyes slowly widen one more time - seems to give you the answer you were asking for.
"...Christopher."
Lips rolling in and pursing shortly after, he slumps forward a bit. "I stole it."
"That's what I thought." You chuckle, turning your back to him to continue folding the laundry you'd just taken from the dryer - You know, what you were doing before he decided to make his presence known. "It is very cute though. I can't blame you for taking it."
And with that, you think the conversation would be over. But Chris seems to recognize that there's something still lingering in the air - like words left unsaid floating just above your pretty little head. So he makes his way over until he can wrap his arms around you from behind, fingers teasingly squeezing at your sides. It was a feeling you'd never get tired of; Being cozied up in strong arms and giggling under wandering hands.
"Are you... jealous?"
His teasing accusation makes your shoulders bounce with laughter, and his head bobs along to the motion with his chin resting along the collar of your shirt. You can feel his breath fanning over your ear as he giggles out, "You're jealous I have a cute Wolfchan hat and youuuu don't.~"
Forcing your laughter down in your chest and pursing your lips although they still form a smile, you manage to shake your head. The towel in your hands folds neatly as you regain focus, confident in your words. "No, absolutely not. I'd never be jealous of a silly little hat."
"So..." Chris starts softly, beginning to sway behind you and smiling to himself when you join in on the sweet motion. "You wouldn't be excited if I told you I snagged an extra one for you, too...?"
You pause, dropping the towel down upon the stack already folded before turning to face him with curious eyes. Chris pops a brow and hums out, loosening his hold on you so his hands can rest comfortably along the small of your back. "Mm?"
"Is it also Wolfchan or is it a different character?"
A smile paints plump lips, your boyfriend stepping back so he could bend down and grab the black backpack leaning up against the couch you'd been folding laundry on. It unzips, the sight too beautiful to behold as he plucks out another grey beanie with Wolfchan ears - Yes, another one he secretly snagged just so you could match.
And with grinning, giggly expressions and rosy cheeks, the two of you take a few pictures cheek-to-cheek so he can have a new wallpaper for his phone. Yours too, of course. He also makes a note to send them to the group chat later on, met with the puking emoji from Minho almost immediately in response - then a thumbs up so he knew it was all in good fun.
Though seeing the pictures of the two of you in the group chat made Chris think. Maybe he could post them to Instagram, or send them on his Bubble. Maybe it was time to make things... publicly official.
It's a wandering, shy thought at first, unsure if it's a safe thing to do or if he'll be scolded for it by the company. But he decides it's the right time when he peeks over at you folding laundry still, now wearing the Wolfchan hat with the cute ears poking up from the top of your head.
Yeah. He definitely wanted the world to know you were his.
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Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l @jeonginsleftcheek
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saelvr · 11 days ago
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𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍.
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plans with individuals were rare for the sae itoshi, but when your phone buzzed with a message reading, "be ready in 10," you didn't even hesitate. you grabbed your clearly not ironed hoodie, hurried outside of your house, & found his sleek black car waiting at the curb. he leaned against the driver's side, the cold air turning his breath into soft clouds.
"you're late," he teased, a faint smile that wouldn't have been visible for others. and fortunately for you, you're not 'others.'
you rolled your eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. "you didn't even tell me where we're going."
"you'll see," he replied simply, sliding into the driver's seat & starting the engine.
the streets were filled with colorful lights, cheers, kids, mostly, & giggling groups holding punks, or what some call, firework sticks. a distant firework exploding against the dark sky. inside the car, though, was a shelter, lowering the noise outside.
sae rested his hand sloppily on the wheel; the other arm was laid across the console, fingers stroking your thigh every now & then as he shifted gears.
"so, no party for you?" you asked, looking at him.
"not my thing," he said, shrugging, eyes fixed on the road. "i figured this would be better."
you couldn't argue with that.
after about twenty minutes, he pulled up to an empty park, the city stretched out below in a sea of lights. fireworks were already beginning to dot the sky, & you could now hear more cheers of festivities around you. sae got out first, walking around to open your door.
"knightly tonight, aren't we?" you teased, stepping out.
"don't get used to it," he replied, gesturing for you to follow him to the hood of the car.
you two leaned against it, side by side, cool metal against your backs. the view was breathtaking. if only you could focus on that instead of sae, who seemed more at ease than usual.
"it's quiet here," he said after a while, breaking the silence. "no fans, no cameras, no noise."
"except for me," you joked lightly.
he turned his head, his teal eyes locking onto yours. "you're not noise. you're the reason i'm here."
the weight of his words was warm, as if it didn't matter that it was winter. you didn't say anything, choosing instead to hold your silence while the distant booms of fireworks filled the silence between the both of you.
when the countdown began, sae's hand brushed against yours, his fingers intertwined with yours.
"do you have a resolution?" you asked softly, glancing at him as the city below shouted, "ten… nine… eight…"
he tilted his head just a little to the side. his eyes refocused on the skyline. "yeah," he said, squishing your hand gently. "spend more time with you."
your heart stuttered. you couldn't get out an answer before,
“three … two … one!”
exploded in fireworks, then dozens of colors filled the dark sky. sae turned towards you, lit up by sparks from the firework.
“happy new year," he said quietly, his voice cutting through the distant cheers. if it weren't for the two of you being so close, you wouldn't have catched onto what he said.
then, saying not a word more, he leaned in; his lips touched against yours. a slow & desired kiss, filled with unvoiced promises that cannot be put in words.
when he pulled back, his smirk was softer than usual, almost fond. "don't get used to this either."
you laughed, the warmth in your chest enough to chase away the cold. "too late, i already have."
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note : happy new year !
© — saelvr
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zepskies · 3 months ago
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Headcanon: Sleepwalking
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader, Jason Teague x Reader
AN: @jackles010378 This one's for you, hun! ��
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Mainly fluff, implied sex, nakedness
HC: How Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason would react to you sleepwalking.
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Dean Winchester
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At first, Dean can't understand why you hesitate to sleep with him after, well, sleeping with him.
Did he read you wrong? Is just this something casual for you? The thought makes him swallow, jaw clenching, but if that's how you want it...he can try to be okay with that.
Seeing the hurt he's trying to bury behind his eyes, you settle down beside him in bed and stroke his cheek. You assure him that you're staying. Even though in the back of your mind, you're hoping and praying.
Please, God. Not tonight...
It happens around 3:00 in the morning.
Dean feels you stir on your side of his bed. He's a light sleeper at the best of times, so he turns to see you tossing the covers off your half-naked body and getting out of bed.
"Where're you going?" he says, playfully trying to grab your hand. But you slip right out of his hold without answering him, padding to the door and leaving the room.
Still half-asleep, but now thoroughly bewildered, Dean's brows furrow, and he gets up to follow you. You would never walk out of a room wearing just his shirt and nothing else, your bare feet slapping the floor with every step. He hopes Sam isn't up and about at this hour.
It takes him a while, but Dean finds you in the kitchen. There you seem to be trying to put together a bowl of Cheerios. The box is already on the counter. You're opening cupboards and leaving them open, your hands searching for a bowl.
"What'cha doin' sweetheart? Little midnight snack action? I can get behind that," Dean says.
You don't even seem to hear him. Dean watches you grab a mug instead of a bowl...and the orange juice instead of milk.
It all goes downhill from there.
"I did what?" you exclaim the next morning. "See! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."
You cover your face in your hands in mortification while Dean rubs your back, chuckling so hard he can't even breathe. You smack him in the stomach, but it doesn't stop his wheezing. He kisses you on the cheek to placate you.
"It's okay, baby. I didn't know coffee grounds and O.J. went so well together."
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Beau Arlen
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The first night you stay over at his air stream trailer, you warn him ahead of time while you sit beside him on the narrow bed.
"Just so you know, I um..." Getting out the words are difficult. You give him a wan smile in embarrassment, but he's listening intently, waiting for you to finish.
You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. "I tend to sleepwalk."
Just as you predicted, Beau's brows shoot up in surprise.
"Really?" he says, a smile starting to curve his lips.
Your lips twitch at a smile as well. "Yes, so I don't wanna hear any wisecracks. It runs in my family, unfortunately."
"Wow, a whole family of sleepwalkers, huh?" he muses, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. "Gotta say, I'd like to see that--"
You cut off his chuckling with a shove of his shoulder.
But that night, Beau is startled awake when you trip over his shoes left on the floor, beside a small pile of his clothes and yours that you two hadn't bothered to pick up.
You aren't hurt too badly -- just a bruised forehead and very confused the next morning.
But from then on, Beau takes your condition more seriously.
Every night, he makes sure his place is clean and organized so you don't trip on anything.
He puts a child lock on the door in case you try to open it while sleepwalking, and he keeps the sliding door to the bathroom open in case you need to get in there.
Most importantly, he locks his guns away in a safe inside his nightstand.
His objective is making sure you're safe and comfortable whenever you're with him.
Though he can't help teasing you a little bit (a lot) when you rearrange his entire sock and underwear drawer in your sleep, perfectly folded and color coded.
"Well, thanks very much, darlin'," he grins.
You shake your head, covering your warm, blushing face.
"Shut up."
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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"What the fuck?" Ben wipes his bleary eyes, but he still can't believe what he's seeing.
He watches in bewilderment when he finds you in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Completely naked. Frying up some bacon to go with your toast, apparently.
Not that naked cooking doesn't appeal to him. In fact, the sight of you from behind -- your hair loose over your shoulders, the curve of your waist and the gentle swell of your hips, bare ass and legs, and the hint of side boob while your hands move deftly with the pan and silver utensil...
It's arousing, even erotic, making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.
And it actually fits pretty well with one of his fantasies that he's been wanting to try out with you.
But this is also more than a little fucking strange. You're usually dead to the world until at least 9:00 a.m.
"Sweetheart, what're you doing?" he asks. He approaches you from behind and rests a hand on your lower back as he peers over your shoulder, but you don't answer him.
When a large spark of grease pops in the pan, you barely even flinch when it hits your arm and burns you.
Instinctively, he knows something's wrong. He grabs the pan out of your hand and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the crackling grease. He turns off the stove and steps back with you in his arms.
"Hey, are you hearing me? What the fuck's going on here?" he asks.
Your eyes seem glazed over, until he (gently) slaps at your cheek.
"Hey."
Finally, you blink faster a few times, take a deeper breath, and glance up at him. "Hey..."
Your brows furrowing, you look around the room in confusion. Your eyes widen when you look down at your naked body. You gasp and cling to his arms. "What the hell?!"
"Were you fucking sleepwalking?" Ben asks, his lips twitching in amusement and incredulity all at once.
"Oh my God, you tell me!" you exclaim. This has never happened to you in your life! What the hell is going on?
He leads you back to the bedroom, and after putting your pajamas back on, you inspect the pill bottle on your nightstand. Ben gave it to you to help knock out the spell of insomnia you've been having.
After reading the list of side effects, you toss the bottle at your man's chest, even knowing he'll barely feel it.
"This is the last time I let you give me Ambien!"
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Bonus! Jason Teague
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What the hell did you take? Jason wonders, as he tries to keep you from unclipping your seatbelt.
The two of you are on a plane halfway to France on vacation.
You're a nervous flyer, but you just woke up from a dead sleep after taking that little pill an hour ago.
And you're apparently "feeling happy," in your words, your head rolling onto his shoulder with a giggle.
"Jase," you stage whisper (loudly). You raise a finger and swirl it around the air. "My face is hot. I'm hot. I'm hot for...you."
You tweak the tip of his nose.
He laughs a bit nervously, despite his genuine amusement. A mother looks their way with a raised brow. She puts a pair of headphones on her little boy and gives him an iPad to focus on. Jason shoots her an awkward smile and wave. Then he focuses back on you.
"Okay. Sweetheart, I like the enthusiasm, but I think you just need to sleep off the rest of whatever this is," he says. He grabs a blanket to cover you with.
"Hmm, okay."
Eventually you settle down and snuggle into him. He smiles in relief, soothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He soon falls asleep himself.
When he wakes, you're no longer sitting beside him. His eyes popping open wide, he sits up and leans out of the aisle. He doesn't see you at all in the first class cabin.
Jason shoots up out of his seat and hurries down the other way, through the curtain where business and economy sit.
Sure enough, a flight attendant is following you up and down the aisle trying to get your attention, but you don't even seem to be hearing him.
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" the attendant tries. He seems to be getting frustrated. "There's turbulence, miss. It's not safe for you to be--"
Jason hurries to you and grabs your arm just as the plane begins to tremble and shake. He knows there's something wrong if you're not freaking out right now. You should be clinging to him like a koala, not wearing a blank expression on your face as you glance up at him.
"Aw shit, you're sleepwalking," he realizes breathlessly. What the hell did you take?
He knows you told him, but now he feels guilty for not really listening as he and the flight attendant help you back to your seat.
Once you're clipped back into a seatbelt along with him, Jason sighs in relief now that he knows you're safe and sleeping more peacefully. Looks like you two are going to have an adventure before you even get to Paris.
He fishes out the little bottle from your bag and reads the label.
Xanax. Jesus Christ. One thing's for sure, Jason is throwing it out when you guys land.
You'll thank him when you wake up.
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AN: 😂 I had more fun than I thought with this one! Let me know what you think, and if there are other characters you'd like to see the next time I do one of these headcanons. 😘💜
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month ago
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Sunshine's Halloween
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: The sixteenth of my Halloween-centric fics
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Ingrid smiles fondly over the rim of her coffee mug, leaning against the door frame as Mapi zips up your sunflower costume.
The petals frame your face as Mapi drops a kiss to the very tip of your nose.
It's so sweet and so domestic and Ingrid's heart swells at the scene, especially when Bagheera comes wandering over to rub her cheeks against your legs.
"Looking good," Mapi says, grinning as she lays another kiss onto your nose," And we're all ready to go."
"No, we're not," You giggle," Mama's still drinking her coffee! We can't leave if Mama hasn't finished her coffee!"
Ingrid grins down at her drink.
"Oh, silly me!" Mapi laughs," That's right, we can't leave without Mama finishing her coffee or she'll turn into a monster!"
You giggle as Mapi tickles your tummy.
"Go and say goodbye to the birds," She says, nudging you towards your room," And when you come back, Mama will have finished."
Mapi's only half right of course because Ingrid makes the point of still having some dregs left in the mug by the time you come back, fresh from kissing your birds goodbye.
But it's not much longer to wait and soon you're wandering into the locker room with your little flower Halloween bucket.
"Trick-or-Treat!" You call out, giggling as the girls coo over your cool, new costume.
"Yeah," Mapi teases," Load it up! We're feasting tonight!"
"No, we're not," Ingrid cuts in with an eye roll," Because we're demonstrating healthy eating, remember?"
"Kill joy."
"What was that?"
"Just...er...muttering about how much I love and adore you!"
"Uh-huh, sure."
You're not listening to the bickering of your mothers though as your aunties drop sweeties into your bucket under your watchful eyes.
You wait.
They look back at you.
"It's your turn!" You tell them in exasperation," Trick-or-Treat for you!"
For a moment, no one says anything. Maybe in shock or maybe in them being doubtful that you have sweets to give them back.
But, finally, your auntie Frido speaks.
"Trick-or-Treat?"
You grin at her, rummaging around in your coat pocket for a moment to fish out a polaroid picture of her you took yesterday. You hand it to her, absolutely beaming.
"Treat!" You answer, giggling as Frido stares at her 'treat' with a fond smile.
"Thank you, y/n," Frido says, dropping a soft kiss onto your cheek," But you didn't have to get us anything."
"But it's nice," You reply with a little giggle," Because everyone deserves treats!"
Frido glances at Ingrid. "I swear, what are you teaching this girl? She's just so sweet."
Ingrid smiles down at you, eyes following after you as you wander around handing out your photos in return for sweets.
Mapi's holding your bucket, her gleeful smile just getting wider and wider as it gets fuller and fuller and Ingrid already knows that Mapi's the one that she's going to have to fight to not gorge herself tonight.
You don't seem to care about the sweets at all, looking like you only view them as a way to hand out the cute pictures you took yesterday at trainin.
"Mapi," Ingrid says in warning," You know you're not allowed to eat all of those tonight, right?"
"What? Why not?"
"Well, mostly because they're not yours and because you'll make yourself sick."
"I can deal with it!"
"And if you eat sweets then our daughter wants to eat sweets and if she eats sweets, she'll feel sad that Bagheera and her birds aren't eating sweets and then she'll give them sweets. So I'll have you and her and the animals on a sugar high. No one is having sweets tonight. Except for me."
"What? Why?!"
"Because I know about moderation," Ingrid says with a grin, kissing Mapi's pouty lips," And because I know there's sweets in there that neither you or Sunshine will eat."
"Well...I..."
"Go and get our daughter," Ingrid says fondly," Before she talks Alexia's ear off."
Both of your mothers turn to look at how you're sitting on your Tia Ale's lap.
"And this one is of you and your baby Mija when you brought her to practice. She's smiling because I think she's happy that you're her Mami."
Alexia's bottom lip trembles and her face washes with emotion and Mapi's kind of worried she's going to burst into tears over such a sweet gesture with Mija asleep in the carrier placed in Alexia's cubby.
"Come here, Sunshine," Mapi calls," Let's leave your Tia Ale with her Mija, huh? I think the staff have more sweeties for you to collect."
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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 months ago
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Give me more.
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Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Words count: 2527 Rating: +18, MDNI
Summary: You're ovulating and can't calm down, just the night before Frankie leaves for a two-day camping trip with the boys for Santi's birthday... luckily Frankie is willing to help you... too much, even.
Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, a lot of kissing, female masturbation (on Frankie's leg hehehe), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare, reader has breasts and vagina, wears a baby doll and a thong, she's able body, she doesn't blush, she has hair but it's not described and she has no other description, brief reader’s thought insert, marked in italics. Pussy pronouns. Pet names (baby, honey, good girl). Frankie is our PEK on a mission 🫡
A/N: This Frankie is the same as You look like a fun place to sit, but it can be read as a stand alone, there are only some mild references to the previous ff. (If you haven't read it yet though, I hope you do 👀♥️) I have a couple more ideas in mind for these two, I hope to have something out for the Christmas holidays at least. Thank you so much for loving these two in the previous story, especially to @harriedandharassed who read it and shared it like 3 times if I'm not mistaken, I'm so flattered and grateful. I hope this one works just as well as the first one. English is not my first language, I have no beta, I hope there aren't too many mistakes, please forgive me if there are. I'm open to any advice you want to give me to improve but please be kind. (you always are, tbh). Comments and reblogs are always welcome, you would make me so happy 🥹 I started a tag list, if you want to be added leave a comment. If you'd prefer to be tagged only on something specific I can definitely do that, just let me know.
Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you enjoy.
Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️
“Frankie...” you whisper in the dark.
“Yes?” he answers you in a thick sleepy voice
“Are you asleep?”
“Actually yes.”
“You're answering me, though.”
“Sweetheart...” he picks up his phone from the nightstand ”It's 3:00 a.m. What's wrong?”
“I can't sleep” you groan
“Come here, come on” you shift on his part of the bed and he holds you tightly against his body, you rest your head on his chest and surrender to his comforting embrace and the scent of his skin.
You hum “thank you”
He places a kiss on your forehead “sleep now”
You close your eyes, focusing on the sense of peace you feel wrapped in his strong arms, clasped to his body as warm as a furnace, one leg crossed over his, one arm wrapped around his waist.
It's amazing, really, so amazing that soon you begin to feel something else. a little shiver that runs under your skin, a little electric shock that goes through you all, and then a crescendo of wetness between your thighs.
You’re ovulating and you’re feral, simple as that.
You try not to mind it, to let it pass, not to be too demanding after he has already made you come twice tonight, once on the couch while you were watching a movie - well at least you tried, but you actually have no idea what the movie was about because you were too busy bouncing on his cock, which when you think back on it, it makes you laugh because it seems like a constant in your dating that you can't finish watching a movie without jumping on each other - and once as soon as you got into bed when he saw you coming out of the bathroom in a new babydoll and thong you bought especially for him.
Only two months ago neither of you could stand the other but now, as much as it still bothers you to admit it since he was the last person you thought you would end up with, you are completely and hopelessly smitten with him.
“Frankie,” you whisper, hoping he won't tell you off “can we kiss for a while? Just a little bit?”
It’s so early in the morning that he doesn't have the energy to be sarcastic as usual, he just replies “of course, baby”
He lowers himself on your face and kisses you on the lips, in a very tender but rather chaste way, he still looks half asleep. After a couple of minutes he stops and you sigh, resting your head back on his chest. 
I must let him sleep, you tell yourself. This man is tired, he has already fucked me twice, that should be enough for now. Yet no, it's not enough, you still crave more.
“Frankie.." you mumble on his chest.
“Mmm what is it again?” his voice is even deeper and rougher than usual, which literally sends you into raptures.
"I..." a glimpse of him between your legs as he eats your pussy flashes past your eyes, you squeeze them hard and admit "I want you"
“Still?” he doesn't have an angry tone, nor an irritated one, he's calm, quiet, definitely awake at this point because you feel his hands roam over your back, all the way down to your ass “you insatiable little minx. You know I have to get up in three hours.” 
“I know...but it's not fair, it's Saturday” 
‘You were there when I promised to go camping and fishing with the guys, right?’ You leverage your arms to reach his neck, resting your lips on his soft, amber skin ”mmmm yes” you groan.
He chuckles, as he squeezes your butt cheeks “you know I have to, it's Santi's birthday” 
You continue your run up his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt, caressing his back.
“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper in his ear, burying a hand in his dark curls, your leg tightening around him brushing your barely covered pussy on his leg. Frankie gasps at the sensation, as you begin to grind against his thigh. “It’s only for two days. Jesus, you really are a menace, you know that?” 
“Yeah, you like that about me” You coo.
He puts a hand on your neck, his thumb brushing your ear while his other fingers wrap around the base of your skull. “I sure do. Go ahead, honey, make a mess on me”
You’re grinding hard, the texture of your brand new thong is adding a delicious scratch between your clit and his skin. 
Ridiculous desperate moans escape your lips and he kisses you, letting them vibrate into his mouth. 
He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, which allows you to feel his warm skin, your clit throbbing against him, your dripping pussy heating from the contact.
You feel the tingle of your orgasm mount inside you, your mouth is wide open for him, your tongue feverishly entwined with his in a sweet struggle that leaves you breathless.
And you come, wave after wave, quivering against him, one of his strong arms keeps you in place while his other hand is still wrapped around your neck squeezing lightly on your pulse point.
Your breath is short and ragged, your body hot and tested and yet you feel like it’s not enough.
As soon as your breathing returns to normal you mutter “gosh...I want more” into his slightly sweaty t-shirt.
His voice comes out more high pitched than he would like, he opens his eyes wide and exclaims, "Baby, do you want to wreck even the last bit of me tonight?”
You giggle softly and coo “She’s aching, you know…”
You feel one of his hands kneading one of your ass cheeks and then sliding down to your pussy, massaging your folds from behind, wetting his fingers with your juices.
“Mmm that’s good” you whisper “but I still want more”
Frankie grunts, flipping you onto your back on the bed and getting on top of you. 
His eyes scan you in the dim light of your room, reading the lust on your face. “How much is she aching?” 
You whine, tighten your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer but Frankie doesn't budge an inch, he's too strong for you.
“Use your words, baby, I know you can.” His gaze is no longer clouded by sleep, it’s alert and authoritative and he pins you down. 
“A lot.” 
“Yeah? Does this wet pussy need me?” he goes down your chest kissing your skin left uncovered by the thin straps of your baby-doll. You moan again, you don't know how to do anything else, your head feels light and confused. 
"Answer me" he says leaving a bite on your shoulder. 
You squirm and a breathy "Yes" comes out of your throat.
You feel his cock swell against your thigh, A trickle of desire runs down between your legs, wetting the thong you're wearing underneath. It’s basically drenched at this point.
“What do you want me to do? Tell me what your naughty pussy needs" 
“Your tongue, your fingers…” you whine “Please, Frankie” 
One thing you learned right away about Frankie is that he really enjoys eating his girl out. 
He's not one of those men who do it just to get a blowjob in return. He's dedicated. He uses his tongue, his lips, his nose even, he compliments how you taste, how pretty your cunt is, how wet and warm she is under his tongue, he doesn't stop until you're left shaking and breathless beneath him, until he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you. 
He really is a force of nature and blows your mind every single time. And not only at doing that, he is experienced and passionate in every field.
“Greedy”
He pulls back the duvet and the cool air hardens your nipples as he reaches between your legs, his lustful, tantalizing eyes peering down at you. 
His mouth brushes your inner thigh, slowly moving up from your knee to your groin, his beard tickling you deliciously, “is that what you want huh?” 
“Yes” you murmur ”yes, please.” 
His plump lips settle on your opening, he sticks out his tongue and licks from above the fabric. You moan, sinking a hand into his raven curls, pressing him against your cunt. 
He chuckles against your folds, sending an exquisite vibration through your body, slips his fingers into the elastic of your thong and slowly pulls it down. 
Your cunt throbs in anticipation as his tongue travels up your slit and you emit a deep “Fuck, yes” as soon as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking away the last bit of reasoning you had left. 
“Oh God, Frankie” 
He goes down again and comes back up, tongue flat out sliding over your wetness, once, twice, three, four times as an irrepressible heat spreads inside you again and then the tip of his tongue stops under your clit and he begins to jerk it quickly with close flicks.
His hand is open on your thigh, he slows down a bit when he feels your body tenses, goes back to teasing your opening and then starts tickling your bundle of nerves again.
You tug his hair, spreading your legs even wider to take in all that he wants to give you, melting under his ministration.
“Fuck, you’re so good, don’t stop” you whine and you see him grinning as he replies “I won’t, baby, I’m going to have a damn fucking meal out of this pussy”
His touch is careful, long laps and sucks on your clit, he knows how to alternate them, he seems to know your body and the way it reacts inside out.
Another thing you discovered about him is that he is great at listening and observing and very often guesses your needs and reactions before you express them. He immediately learned how you take your coffee, how you frown when something is bothering you, he knows that you need a particularly tight hug on Monday nights, and that on Friday nights you like to treat yourself to a drink to celebrate getting to the end of another work week.
Frankie is good, really good, you even start to really like quarreling with him, you like the way he stands up to you, the thrill of it and the amazing sex that usually comes right after. 
He brings you almost to the edge with his tongue without taking his eyes off your face, and then you feel two of his fingers nudging at your entrance “you want them huh?” 
“Yes” you breathe, almost on the verge of delirium and he teases “ask nicely baby, I haven’t heard that little magic word yet” 
You would roll your eyes if you were able to do that but right now all you feel is desire, desire to be full again with his fingers, desire to be fucked just like the way you like, desire to be his and only his. 
“Pl-please” you mutter and he whispers “here she is, my good girl” 
His index and middle finger start to stretch you, it seems like he’s taking all the time in the world while you’re trembling and begging to be satiated.
“Almost there pleasepleaseplease”you plead and he sinks a little bit more, up to half fingers, his other hand gripping on the soft skin on your tummy, keeping you in place while your back feels like a guitar’s string ready to snap.  
Your walls are clenching desperately around his fingers, impatient to have all but instead of giving you your long awaited release he comes out completely. 
"Fuck" you hiss. 
His lips are curved into a mocking smirk.
Your clit is swollen, your hole empty and the almost release is tingling all over your body like a latent fire that cannot be extinguished.
“Did you think I would make this easy for you?” He asks ironically.
You scoff “Goddamn,Frankie!” 
You don't know how he finds strength but he's making you pay for be so demanding, your pussy won't stop throbbing as he barely caresses you, feather light touches on your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit. 
You try to breathe deeply to calm down, but as soon as Frankie feels your body relax he returns to licking you, two fingers on your clit moving in circles. 
You're almost on the verge of tears when he brings you back to within an inch of your brink.
“Frankie, please” you cry “I can’t- fuck- I just can’t”
“Oh yes, you can. You wanted more? I’m going to give you exactly this so now shut up and let me do my job” he’s commanding now.
He’s slow and steady over your bundles of nerves and when you impossibly tense again his mouth is back on it, sucking and teasing with his tongue.
When he gives you your second orgasm he doesn't stop stimulating you as it washes over you, your back arches sharply, you’re gushing in his mouth and all over his face, your hand in his hair tugs to try to pull him away from you but he doesn't move, his lips stubbornly latched onto your clit, his hand firmly on your tummy while the other grips your thigh. 
He doesn't stop as you anchor yourself to the edge of the mattress trying to lift yourself up, your body twitching unbearably, he pulls you by your legs and brings you right back to where he wants you without taking his face off you, in fact sinking even more. “Frankie please, please, I can't” you feel tears stinging your eyes. 
You feel so sensitive it’s almost impossible to handle. 
“Ssssh you’re good” he says, detaching from you just long enough to say it, his beard and mustache glistening and soaked in your essence.
You squeeze your eyes, cover your mouth with your hand as you wail so gravelly it almost doesn’t sound your voice anymore. 
You're overstimulated, your body is sore, you murmur a tearful “please” again, and Frankie finally decides you've had enough. He pulls away from you and takes you in his arms as he whispers, “You're okay, honey,” caressing your back. Your labored breathing slowly returns to normal, giving way to a deep, dense feeling of gratification. 
Frankie definitely reached another level of dedication tonight. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks as he lifts your chin, inviting you to look at him. "Yes," you murmur, and he kisses you tenderly, "do you think I've given you enough to deal with my absence for two days?”
You giggle “I think it's enough to endure a week” and ruffle his hair kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip “But let me tell you something, though, someone they call Catfish who goes fishing… it's really odd”
The sound of his thunderous laugh vibrates against you “I hadn't thought about it but I must admit that you are right. Now let me sleep for...I don't even know what time it is anymore” He reaches out an arm to retrieve the phone on the nightstand and realizes that it is already five o'clock.
“Oh, fuck”
tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter 🌹
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pseudowho · 3 months ago
Text
Fright Night! Multi-Fic
The local fair has a Halloween fright night! Actors and zombies and terror, oh my! You drag your boyfriend to it...how does that go for you?
Gojo, Geto, Toji, Higuruma and Ino
18+, NSFW/suggestive in parts
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Gojo: Goes in smiling. Obnoxious laughter the whole way, and it only worsens when you're screaming at every single actor. As you cringe away from a dead-eyed bride, Gojo tickles your ribs until you squirm.
"Awww, baby, you scared? You're scared, right?"
As if in answer to his question, and received with heaps of cackles, you screech when some hideous creature with no teeth and bloodstained rags lunges at you from the dark.
"Satoru-- hold my hand--"
"--ahhh, yeah, okay...c'mere."
He pulls you in, and you scuttle to keep up with his long-legged stride. Still, the horrors continue and so does his mockery.
His teasing is relentless. Your fear is gradually replaced by indignant prickling anger. You take your chance, when it comes.
"You go in first," you beg Satoru, outside a horrifying old room full of dolls, "please, Satoru, check it out first before I go--"
He huffs as if actually bothered, but his shit-eating grin gives him away as he ambles inside. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twi--"
You promptly shove the door closed with a bang! and yank a chair beneath the doorknob. You've heard rumours about this room; you are not disappointed. Satoru's voice sounds wary. The doorknob rattles just once, and you bite your lip with a smile.
"--hey...hey, babe, the...the dolls are moving."
Nervous laughter from the room. You try to hide the laughter in your voice.
"Oh yeah? You okay?"
"--OH, FU-- yeah, I'm fine. You know me, I'm the stronge--"
Satoru's voice cuts off with a profoundly girly screech, and the doorknob rattles violently while you twist with silent hilarity, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke out.
"Ohhhh, nooo, Satoru, the door's stuck!"
More screeches, bangs and horrifying eerie noises, but you're too busy pressed forwards on your knees, laughing and laughing to the confused looks of passers-by.
"The dolls aren't dolls! THE DOLLS AREN'T DOLLS! BABE! LET ME OUT!"
A guy leans down to you, pointing at the door.
"Hey, uh...can we go in?"
You wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, bursting into laughter as you hear Satoru scream again.
"No...no, sorry buddy. This one's gonna be taken for a while, I think."
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Geto: Total con-artist. Though he croons to you, cloudsoft and soothing through your horror, he's the puppet master. The horror engineer. The king of manipulation.
Every time another actor leaps out to set fear aflame in your veins, Suguru only pretends to be surprised; he isn't. He's already led you around this maze three times, anticipating the flow of the actors, and bleeding you for maximum terror.
He doesn't want to admit how his cock twitches against his thigh every time you break down into a whimpering mess; but, he can't deny that he's getting off on this.
"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh," he soothes, one arm holding you to his side while his lips and nose ghost the shell of your ear, "shhh, baby, it's okay...it's all just pretend. I'm here. I've got you."
You look confused, your memory tangled by fear; "I...I could swear we've been this way already, Suguru--"
"Trust me. I know the way. These mazes are all samey. You're just getting mixed up, silly. Come on."
He has distracted you again, of course. He walks forwards, looking back to you with a smile. You frown, looking down at Suguru's two empty hands...and wondering whose hand you are holding.
The scream you scream, as Suguru seamlessly replaces himself with a white-eyed, rotten-fleshed actor, sends a dribble of pre-cum down his thigh.
He's just waiting until he can get you home, switch off all the lights, and continue the scare trail straight into bed.
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Toji: Utterly unbothered, and smirks his way around. Some of the actors approach, take one look at him, and then turn tail to scare someone else. Anyone else.
But halfway round, he gets bored, and disappears. You're left, abandoned; alone. Toji wants to get in on the action.
You're surrounded by screams, and silence, and dry ice in the dark, and you turn on the spot, spinning, frantic, your heart pounding, your tongue dry, sweat dripping down the small of your back--
Until the sound of metal on metal. Something scraping along a wall. Footsteps heavier than your own heartbeat. And, the one small light source you have is blocked, as a monster of a man in a boiler suit, mask and axe fills the doorway.
The whimper that leaves you is audible; "...Toji?" As if you could be so lucky.
Silence. His heavy, laboured breathing. The footsteps begin towards you, slowly at first...before he runs.
You run, too, shrieking like a banshee, too loud for you to hear the occasional laugh beneath the monstrous man's roars. You find yourself chased down to a dead end, your back and palms flat against the wall, chest heaving, and he approaches slowly, watching you behind his mask.
The blade of the (very blunt) axe strokes down, down, down the centre line of your torso to stop just over your sex, and you whimper, mortified by the trickle of arousal that creeps through you.
"T-Toji--" You whisper to yourself, "T-Toji, where the fuck--please please please help me--oh my god ohmygod ohmygod--"
A shiver seems to go through the man, who leans down and whispers, in a voice so familiar that your jaw drops.
"Like bein' chased, huh? What about bein' caught? You like bein' caught?"
Judging by the way his boiler suit tents, Toji likes it, at least.
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Higuruma: Has not got the mental wherewithal for this, today. Perhaps another day, but not today. And it infuriates him, when his colourful imagination and adrenaline threaten to overtake his inherent logic that this is all just make-believe.
"For fuck's sa-- pull yourself together, Hiromi," he groans as another horrifying creature-person scuttles past in a contortionist twist. You're carried on his back, squealing and kicking into him, while he huffs at you with beleaguered fondness.
Every time something makes him jump, a noise of bewildered shock bursts out, and he growls at himself, running his hand back through his hair and pressing his forehead against a nearby wall.
A few actors, however, take one look at him and treat him as part of the furniture. Hiromi frowns.
"Some of them think I look scared enough, apparently."
You mumbled into his neck. "Scary enough, I think you mean. Look--"
You gently turn his face to a flaking full length mirror. Hiromi drinks himself in; still in a dishevelled suit and tie, sweatstains, coffee drip on his white shirt, and dark circles that surely have to be make-up.
Suddenly, it clicks.
"Ahhh," Hiromi breathes putting you down to your screeching indignation; he doesn't notice as you press yourself to the wall, instead rubbing his face and clothes on a discarded 'bloody' rag.
By the time he's finished, stepping slowly over to you, chin tilted down and looking down at you with beetle-black eyes, you feel a shiver running through you. He's...frightening. Clearly some awful spectral businessman, covered in blood and dirt and horror.
"You...wow. Yeah, Hiromi, you look...great."
Hiromi shrugs you onto his back with a satisfied little chuckle, and the rest of your scare trail is relatively unhindered. Passers-by skirt round him with a wary gaze, and the sinister little smile on his face only adds to the effect.
You stroke one finger down his chest, sultry and whispering.
"Hey, Hiro...stay like this, later, for...activities."
"You are utterly twisted, my love. I absolutely can."
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Ino: Just as scared as you. Absolute chocolate teapot. You'd have done better taking a puppy with you, probably, because the actors approach Ino thinking he can take it, and he absolutely can't.
If Takuma could have jumped into your arms, a la Scooby Doo, he would have. Alas, he simply pulls his balaclava down in groaning terror. When other visitors then scream at him, too, thinking he's part of the crew, he raises his balaclava back up with a suppressed sob.
"Baby-- I can't take it-- I'm too weak-- my heart--"
"Takuma, I--" You shriek, too, when some ghastly woman in a bloodstained nightdress appears. She runs for you both, and you and Takuma sprint away, hand-in-hand, half-laughing, and half-crying.
By the time you round a corner, slamming the door to trap yourselves in a dark room, you and Ino hold each other, panting in the gloom. You feel a familiar hard press against your belly, and look up at Takuma with utter disbelief. He blushes, his lower lip drawing up and looking aside with a grumble.
"--are you excited, Takuma--"
"--aww, shit, babe, you know he don't make any sense--"
His words cut off with a strangled moan as you grip him through his pants, and, biting your lip, lower to your knees. Takuma's jaw drops, his cock twitching up as it's released. You whisper up at him in the dark.
"...emotional support blow-job?"
"F-fuck yeah, emotional support blow-job, I can be your hero after that--"
A few people come to investigate the ghostly little moans coming from your room, but Ino blocks the door with one trembling, jittering foot until the moans crescendo.
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simpjaes · 11 months ago
Note
hon what abt hee/hoon/jay/jake/whoever u want reactions to u actually reach ur limit and say ur safe word during the very steamy and animalistic fuck
hyung line + reaching your limit and saying the safe word
warnings: dub con(ish), use of color coded safe words, rough sex, double penetration/anal, instances of bruises being visible on your skin, jake loses his damn mind, choking, squirting/mentions of piss, attempts at fisting and being sunghoon's size queen lmfao
not proof read
★ heeseung:
he would be so deep inside of you, plunging in faster and deeper than you ever thought possible based on your previous intimate moments with him.
nothing seems to have happened to render Heeseung so...into it tonight. Calling you up and practically demanding you be at his door within ten minutes or he's never going to talk to you again. You could tell he was looking at you through tunnel vision when you showed up with a concerned look on your face.
you felt like something was wrong originally, but when his hands immediately pulled you inside and practically tore your pants off of you, you figured he must've just been really, really, horny. So horny that he doesn't even get your shirt off of you before sliding in dry, whispering words that slicken you right up along with the painful intrusion.
he doesn't even get you out of the entrance either. your back is pressed to his chest as he holds you there, taking everything he can get before wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing. You pull back against him, allowing him to maneuver you to the kitchen just to the side, and there, he doesn't release his grip.
you're tapping his arms, trying to breathe, scream, moan, and whimper all at the same time. he's lost his damn mind, you think.
and when he does finally release his arms around your neck, you want to moan, but instead, you say it. the one word he never expected to hear from you.
"red."
you felt three more powerful thrusts as you said the word, slapping your hand over your mouth because...did you really even want to say it at all?
and then he buries himself into you as deep as he can and leans forward, grabbing your hair and pulling you back so that his lips line up with your ear.
"what did you just say?"
and his hips would be still, all of his movement would come to a halt waiting for you to answer him. waiting for you to confirm the color he thinks he just heard, though it was hard to hear because his ears were ringing due to the sheer adrenaline he has right now.
"red. heeseung." you repeat, out of breath.
Only then does he calm his breathing, still remaining deep inside of you before that little switch in his head flips.
"did I hurt you?" He asks, voice raspy and concerned as he tunes in to his surroundings, noting how he just grabbed you and started using you as if you aren't a living being.
But then you shake your head, skewing your face half into his view with a smirk.
"No, i'd just like to know what's gotten into you."
ah, only you would stop mid-fucking for a goddamn conversation.
☆ jay:
jay always wants to try new things and you're always more than willing to indulge him in it. Hence why safe words have been a pretty common occurrence in your bedroom. rarely yet have you ever had to use even a yellow, better yet a red.
jay always commits green light acts on you, to the point you almost question if he could ever receive a red at all.
tonight tests that limit. the new thing he wants to try involves not only his cock, but a lovely silicone one he secretly bought on his way home. and what does he plan to do this both of these cocks?
use them on you. at the same time.
and, well, while you were actually quite excited to get your chance to try double penetration with your doting boyfriend, he seemed to have missed the look of concern on your face regarding the size of the toy compared to the size of him.
jay is already big. thick enough to make you feel as though the fit is tight regardless of how wet you get for him. this toy though? it's at least an inch longer, at least an inch thicker.
so, yes. you let the dreaded color slip just seconds after jay slides into you after much prep. at the moment, it doesn't feel like any amount of prep could have prepared you for the feeling of two rather large cocks sitting inside of you. The toy is prodded deep in your pussy, skewed only slightly by jay's strong hand as he holds it there with your legs gripping around his waist for dear life. And he is bottomed out into your ass, squeezing his eyes shut briefly himself at the grip and suffocating feeling of your body clenching around both him and the toy.
"relax baby," he whispers out, skewing the toy up just a bit before slipping it down and out of you for a brief instance of relief. "you're squeezing me so hard."
and you do try to relax, the moment where the toy leaves your body does allow a bit of relief to you until, well, he slides it back into you in one push, mumbling a groan at the feeling of it.
"red," you choke out, your body nearly forcing him and the toy out of you from the instinctual clenching.
Jay goes full-stop in that moment, not only slipping the toy back out of you but also making an attempt to slide himself out without causing any more discomfort but then...your legs squeeze him tighter, pushing him right back into place.
"just give me a bit to adjust--" you choke out again, "it's a lot to get used to."
★ jake:
when jake gets in those moods, you know it's near impossible to reach him through actions, better yet through words. he can get quite desperate, which normally isn't too much of an issue because you're the one needing to take control.
on a rare night though, jake wont give in and just...goes. anytime previous to this where you've had to use a safe word involved jake in this type of mindset.
what mindset is it without consistently needing to just say the word desperate? a state where he loses all ability to control just how hard or fast his hips move. some would call it being pussy drunk, though jake's version of it is far more insane than most. like a dog with a bone, he has his mind set on one thing, and that's his pleasure.
you knew it was going to be like this tonight, watching the way his apologies for going too hard and not yet stopping turn into forceful grips and thrusts of his cock into you. it felt like you were being, quite literally, impaled. A wince here, a wince there, and now? Consistent pain with his angled hips, ramming into you repeatedly with no apology in the air.
your loving, sweet, pretty-eyed boyfriend is so fucking gone, and at this point he hasn't quite comprehended or even processed you saying the safe word three times already.
The first time you said it was when he gripped one of your tits to the point it hurt, still ramming into you with a painful spike of pleasure. The second time was when his eyes went dull, and all apologies were left sitting in his sober mind, and then the third time, just now, you had to make an attempt to overpower your lustful boyfriend, gripping his hair as tightly as you can to pull him down to you.
"red."
you saw his eyes flicker in realization at the word, but he kept going upon feeling you clench around him. another thrust, and then another, and then-
"Jake, you're hurting me." You say this time, holding back any moan of pleasure simply because if he hears it, he genuinely may believe you're joking about the pain.
and really, it's not that you don't love when he gets like this. he always gives it to you good, but you can tell he's losing it and he's going to crash after he's done with you. hell, you're going to crash if the lightheaded fuzz in your head is anything to go by.
upon hearing those words from you though, his hips stop immediately and he returns back to himself. the apologies come back, the drool on his chin gets wiped by the back of his hand through insistent and genuine apologies.
he pulls out quickly, only then recognizing the welts and bursts of color against your skin from his fingertips alone.
and when he looks at your face with a drowsy smile but eyes full of concern, he can only apologize again. feeling sorry for himself in that moment and fighting back the frustration of losing an approaching orgasm, he does stop. and he doesn't get off that night solely because you cannot convince him that it's okay. that you're okay.
☆ sunghoon:
safe words are very common in the bedroom, though rarely used because both of you have a deep level of trust and commitment in your relationship. it's to the point that even when you do feel like you need to say the word, more often than not you're too busy trusting him to make the pain and discomfort worth it.
and, well, he always does.
there was the time where he nearly choked you out, allowing you to feel your first orgasm with near to no breath, to the point of almost passing out. sure, that would be considered a red for most people, but you knew sunghoon would never hurt you nor literally fucking kill you. there was another time where he really, really, really, wanted to try and get you to squirt. which, you know, that's great for you!!! aside from the fact that all day he had you drinking water bottle after water bottle, barring the bathroom from you until he knew you were ready to burst. the only reason you would have given him a red would be because your bladder was hurting by the time he started ramming into you, and mayyyybe because he didn't put a towel down and surely you were about to piss yourself for his pleasure. ultimately though, that pressure paired with the feeling of being stuffed even more full led you to an orgasm that you still think about to this day. today though, sunghoon is really on something. lately, he's been making comments. "size queen" this, "size queen" that. it appears your boyfriend is now seemingly fucking obsessed with seeing how much you can fit into your cunt. or, rather, how much he can fit into you. there was plenty of prep of course. His cock always a pleasure, and then his cock plus a few of his fingers, and then-- oh. just his fingers??? then-- knuckles. you feel knuckles.
"Woah, woah-" You pause at the feeling of being stretched, Sunghoon not stopping as you glance down at the way he is entirely focused on fitting his whole goddamn hand inside of you. "Sunghoon, red. red!" He stills his hand, leaving it in place and feeling your internal walls bunch his fingers up inside of you. Still, he can't push the knuckles past your hole and honestly, he's a bit shocked to hear the color code come out of you in a panic.
"Red?" He asks for confirmation, already preparing to pull his hand back and take care of you in a different way when you clench again.
"Red." You confirm, wiggling your hips away from him, forcing him to pull out of you.
"Was it too much?" He asks now, carefully crawling over you to plant a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I just wanted to see if it would fit." You nod, embarrassed by the fact that he was really close to making it fit. Unfortunately, it didn't quite feel good for you to have something so large inching inside of you so quickly. He was eager, you could tell, but just as apologetic.
"I think, maybe if you want to try this, we need to use more lube, and maybe buy some toys to train me into it."
"Train you into it?" He repeats your words, eyes darkening in an instant. You smile at his expression, seeing his new obsession run freely in his mind at the implication that maybe someday you can take more than just his fist without seeing red.
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slayfics · 10 months ago
Text
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Katsuki holds your hand.
1,100 words~
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You adjusted to get more comfortable on the couch while the boys continued their conversation about today's training.
"If you ask me, we really showed what Class 1A can do today, that's all I'm saying," Denki said concluding his point.
"I agree everyone did their best today," Hanta said nodding.
Katsuki came into the common room and made his way over to join the conversation. He sat down at the furthest possible spot away from you on the couch. Even though you two had been in some type of undefined relationship for a while, he never showed any indication of it around others.
You rolled your eyes at his decision to sit so far away from you.
"Oh, hey Kacchan, we were just talking about how awesome everyone was in the training today. Especially me with my smart thinking~," Denki said with his usual sly smile.
"Tch- you're really thinking a lot of yourself after that aren't you?" Katsuki huffed out.
"Hey come on, you guys are always making fun of me for being dumb so- I gotta gloat my wins when I can, right?" Denki responded.
"Awe Kaminari~ we only make fun of you because that face you make when you fry your brain is so cute~," you said leaning over to pinch his cheek.
"Hey cut it out!" He exclaimed and swatted your hand away, a bright red blush illuminating his face.
Katsuki grunted and got up walking back to the elevator for the dorm rooms.
"You're leaving already?! You just got here man!" Eijiro called after him.
"Yeah, it's late," he said without turning around and continuing to walk to the elevators.
You jumped up and followed him to the elevator. The boys eyed you but didn't say anything and continued their conversation.
"The hell are you following me for?" Katsuki asked grumpily pressing the elevator button.
"No way you're going to bed, it's too early even for you," you observed.
The elevator opened and you both stepped in, "What do you care? Just go back," he spoke, waiting for you to exit, but instead you leaned over and pressed the button to his floor.
The elevator closed giving you both some privacy, "Why don't you just say you're jealous?" You asked bluntly, turning to Katsuki.
"HA?!" he exclaimed, turning to you, fury in his eyes.
"Come on you think that wasn't obvious? You got up as soon as I made that flirty comment at Kaminari," You challenged him.
The elevator opened up to his floor and Katsuki stormed out.
"Don't ignore me!" You yelled following after him.
Katsuki opened his dorm door and let out an annoyed huff of air when you slipped in under his arm.
"You can't run away from me you know," You declared. Katsuki angrily slammed his door and pulled your wrist up above your head, pinning you against the door. Any other person might have been afraid, but Katsuki's angry outbursts didn't faze you anymore.
His face was just inches away from yours and you could see the anger that flashed in his eyes ignited by his jealousy, "You know I fucking hate when you do that."
"Do what?" You asked, playing innocent as if you didn't intentionally flirt with Denki to piss him off.
"Don't play dumb with me," He growled. "You're so god damn flirty and it pisses me off, makes those extras think they have a chance with you. Especially dunce face, I hate the way he looks at you. Makes me want to explode the shit out of him. You're mine you know that!"
"Well- maybe they wouldn't look at me that way if they knew," You challenged him.
Katsuki let go of your wrist and stepped a few paces back from you, "I told you I'm not good at this shit." He said, crossing his arms.
"I'm not either Katsuki- but you sat the furthest away you could have from me down there-,"
"The fuck does that matter?? I was just sitting on the couch. Why the hell are you like that anyway? Do you like dunce face or something?" He asked.
You let out a sigh, "No of course not, I like you. I only did it because it pisses you off," You let out a small laugh. "I just want your attention that's all," you answered honestly.
"Tch- my attention? What a dumb ass way to go about it." He huffed.
"Told you, I'm not good at this stuff either. What if- I'll stop my playful comments if you make it obvious that there's... something between us," you proposed.
"Like what? You want me to hold your goddamn hand or something?" he asked.
Your eyes blinked wide. You were going to suggest just having him sit next to you on the couch next time- but this was much better.
"Yeah that's- that's good," you said trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You didn't want Katsuki to see how much that actually meant to you.
"Fine, now get out, it actually is late now I gotta sleep," He grumbled.
You moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Sure thing Grandpa," you teased, and laughed as you left his room and made your way back to yours.
The following day, you sat in the common room around the usual couches the boys chose to hang out on.
"Man, today's lesson went way over my head, did any of you get it?" Eijiro asked looking distressed.
"Nope- Ectoplasm's lecture was impossible to follow," Denki said.
You were about to respond when you noticed Katsuki making his way to the couches. The boys continued their conversation while you eyed Katsuki, wondering if he'd stay true to his word. Katsuki silently sat next to you. Both hands tucked deep into his sweat pockets he looked away from the group.
"Bakugo, you're going to have to tutor all of us on the lesson today!" Eijiro exclaimed.
"Sure whatever-" Katsuki said still looking away from the group.
Eijiro looked at him curiously, wondering what was wrong, but decided not to push his friend and continued his conversation with Denki.
Without warning Katsuki pulled out his hand from his pocket and quickly grabbed yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. You looked down at your hands and then back up at him. He was still facing away from the group and his leg was bouncing up and down nervously.
Eijiro stopped mid-sentence at the sight.
"WHAT!?" Katsuki barked snapping his head to Eijiro.
"Nothing! Nothing!" Eijiro said quickly. He knew Katsuki well enough to know better than to make it a big deal.
The boys silently looked at each other and then back at you two stealing glances.
"If someone says a goddamn word I'm exploding them," Katsuki mumbled and turned to look away from the group again.
"So, anyway that lesson was awful," you said, encouraging the group to pick back up the conversation and not make a scene about Katsuki holding your hand.
"Yeah right-," Denki said and continued complaining about the rest of the day.
Katsuki gave your hand a slight squeeze, showing his appreciation.
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101maverick · 6 months ago
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Hi! Saw your newest post, so thought I might as well try to help with your writers block :)
How about headcanons of the bat boys dating a broke reader? Alternatively, batboys x bimbo!reader?
Hope this helps you get out of your slump, enjoy the rest of your day and take your time if you ain't up for it :]
A/n: Tysm for the request! Hope you enjoy :)
Dick Grayson
Being resident in Bludhaven, he's financially independent and certainly not rich. He refuses to depend on Bruce.
This means he hasn't got any trust fund money to give you, but he'd definitely help you out any way he can
He'd buy you practical gifts as well as normal ones whenever he's got the chance, and if you're living together the way you divide the living costs would definitely be proportional to your spending power
Dick isn't rich but he's not broke either: the average annual salary for cops in the us is roughly $66.000, but he owns the two-bedroom apartment you live in so the only thing you guys need to pay is taxes and bills, no rent to worry about. You're also not at home for most of the day, seeing as he works as a cop and you have your own job that takes up a good chunk of your day, so the electricity bill isn't very high.
I personally think Reader would not enjoy not having to pay for anything seeing as the money comes out of Dick's own pocket, so she'd at the very least insist on paying for groceries and helping out more in the house with laundry, dishes, cleaning et cetera, to even out the responsibilities as much as possible
He'd support you as much as possible if you're getting a degree, he'd be like your own personal cheerleader, and after you get it he'd organise this huge surprise graduation party for you and then help you get a job in the field of your degree
like if you became a lawyer he'd hook you up with some judges/attorneys he knows aren't corrupt and get you a job in their law firm (paid intern of course, after having worked so hard you want to make it yourself in the world)
I think you two would have tons of fun at the thrift! You wouldn't feel bad about him insisting to spend his money, and you would have the best time just perusing the racks and laughing at all the insane stuff you find plus trying on some genuinely nice clothes
One thing he splurges on though is making sure you have a state-of-the-art home gym, in fact that is why he buys your building's basement and equips it with every work-out machine under the sun plus a trapeze and equipment to practice a ton of other dynamic sports of the sort
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Jason Todd
He's a crime lord so it's safe to say this dude is filthy rich
He obviously doesn't show it though and apart from having a lot of it as an emergency fund for when he needs to defend himself in gang wars I believe he anonymously donates the rest to charities
I go with the canon of Jason being catholic so I believe he gives to the Church, but it could obviously be something else like one of the many Wayne foundations (cause as much as he holds a grudge against his father he knows he's obviously not corrupt and actually helps people)
apart from this he definitely still has a lot of money
He'd refuse to see you struggle financially
He's been through that, he knows how awful it is and does not hear no for an answer when he goes to hand you insane amounts of cash
If you live together then he makes sure to get a nice apartment in the respectable parts of town, blending in with the rest of the neighbourhood to make sure the location is safe and as untraceable as possible
He handles everything and refuses to even let you pay for groceries, insisting that you concentrate on your studies and not worry about having to sustain yourself
To him you guys being a team means that you hold each other up any way you can, and you already support him immensely just by being by his side and loving him, so to him this is just doing his part and supporting you (on top of loving you like crazy of course)
One thing he'd do is make sure your house has enough space to host an insane amount of books though
On this topic I think he'd absolutely spoil you with book hauls, just taking you to every book store you can find and buying piles and piles of books
I'm talking those beautiful gold-leaf covered editions of centuries-old classics, and it doesn't matter if you already have the stories per-se in your library cause it's the edition that matters in this case, ya know?
Like sometimes you want to feel regal and distinguished reading the gold-lined hardcover Commedia, sometimes you want to feel quirky with your penguin edition Jane Eyre, other times you just want to embrace your inner sewer rat and read Macbeth from the shitty mass-produced paperbacks and Jason acknowledges and embraces it
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Tim Drake
Tim, like Jason, is also filthy rich, in virtue of being the owner of Drake Industries and the representative C.E.O. for Bruce at Wayne Enterprises
You'd both live in his Nest, and given the horrendous amount of electricity it consumes it's all already paid for by his company so no need to worry about that
He would only accept "payment" for everything he does for you in the form of you making sure he goes to sleep at decent amounts of time when he's elbow-deep in a case (and tons of love, obviously)
Like Jason, he'd just hands you wads of cash
EXCEPT! He does it for the most mundane stuff. Timothy Jackson Drake is a nepo baby, no way around that. Sure, while he spent his time stalking Batman and Robin through the rougher parts of Gotham he learnt street-safety 101, but he always carried anything he needed for those nightly strolls in his backpack, and he never really learned the real value of money. "$2.70 for a small bottle of water? Sounds reasonable!" is his thought process to this day.
You two would often have these moments of 'culture shock', with Tim slowly discovering how much things should cost every time you two go out to run errands together and you discovering about the insane things the rich buy and do just because Tim decided to recount some childhood stories/told you about some stuff socialites did ad a gala
Since I think Tim's love language is quality time I think he'd take you on these absurd trips whenever possible, that to you are to absurd places but to him it's a very normal trip because "my parents always went there twice a year? It's an extremely normal vacation spot?" Meanwhile it's the Maldives or a private island in Greece or something
This being Tim you also HAVE to have a state-of-the-art phone, with tons of features you will never need to use since you're a civilian but it makes him more at ease, knowing that if the need arises you have the ability to disarm a bomb with the click of a button on your display
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Damian Wayne-Al Ghul
Oh he'd absolutely refuse to have you living anywhere but a castle
It'd take convincing for him to have you living in anything less than a penthouse in the diamond district
He's not against the idea of you working, but he doesn't think that it's necessary for you to slave away at a minimum-wage job while you could be spending all your time in luxury while studying for your degree
After you get your degree he'd help you find a job at one of the most important places for your specialisation, pulling the needed strings just to make sure your resume isn't overlooked (nothing more, he's of the idea that his partner should be strong, plus he believes you to be extremely capable and so thinks that pulling strings to get you the job would be a disservice and an offence to you)
Absolutely spoils you with gifts, and by that I mean: clothes, jewellery, if you like cars he'll buy you a carpark, anything you look at for more than two seconds he'll buy
Damian's way of showing love is through gestures, so you rejecting his gifts would hurt him and he'd take it to mean that you are rejecting him/are unsatisfied with him
Like with Tim, you both would have "Culture shocks" over stuff like the worth of money, lifestyle and stuff like that
Because Damian is basically a royal (or at the very least was raised like one, I don't know what's happened to the LoA in current canon) I think he'd lowkey try to get you an armed guard for when you need to go out as a sign of love lol
"Damian I've been feeling watched while going out as of late" "Don't worry Beloved, that's just the armed guard" "Oh ok-I'm sorry what?!"
Things like anniversaries, birthdays and big events are celebrated in the most lavish settings but in a private way still, like he'll absolutely spoil you and take you to visit this super famous castle for your birthday, matter of fact he'll rent it out for the occasion
For real he does this because when you're alone he can be himself and he loves doing that when you're both experiencing something that makes you happy-- But! Those are head canons for another time hehe >:)
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Bruce Wayne
I believe he's the only one in the bat family who knows the worth of money while having being rich his entire life (ya know, having to use all the disguises he does and going undercover as a normal person a lot of the time)
He definitely offers you a job at Wayne Enterprises, and if you accept he agrees to keeping your relationship under wraps so that no one will start saying that you 'sleep with him for the job'
On that topic if the relationship ever goes public and people start saying that, he will fire them without hesitation
And if it's business partners joking with him about it, he won't stop dealing with them for the sole purpose of covertly crippling their reputation so badly they'll have no choice but to sell their companies to him
You obviously live with him at the Manor, and he insists that everything be paid for by himself only (ya know, richest man in New Jersey and probably the world soooo....)
Bruce is really bad with his emotions, he tends to really repress them whenever he deems them something he's not 'worthy' of feeling or whenever he perceives he has failed at something or failed someone, so the mere fact he confessed his feelings towards you and that he doesn't shun your love is a huge step forward for him. This doesn't mean that he's good at expressing his emotions when he doesn't repress them though, especially not with words.
This is why his main love languages are gift-giving and acts of service, because he shows his love through actions.
Gift-giving as an important love language for him happens because he's very busy both during the day and the night, so sometimes your schedules just don't align or he even has to go off-world with the Justice League and stuff, so he 'makes up' those missed acts of service with lavish gifts
Usually this could be seen as 'throwing money at the problem and hoping it fixes itself' but the thing is that Bruce's gifts are pretty much always spontaneous. He's out and about in his public persona or patrolling as batman, and he sees a storefront with something that reminds him of you or that he thinks you would like. The next logical step is obviously buying it for you as soon as possible and getting it to the manor. Because Bruce is really bad at showing it but the people he loves are always at the forefront of his mind (when he's not being an asshole and repressing his emotions as if the fate of humankind depended on his ability to give his family the cold shoulder and communicating only in grunts and sighs)
———————————— A/n: this was so fun! I love writing head canons because there is no pressure with story flow and how much description and feeling you're putting into it, it's very similar to sharing your thoughts with a friend and that's what endears the format to me so much :) Hope you enjoyed! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3 Love you all🩷
Total word count: 2009
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