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Add Sophistication to Your Table with Melrose Damask Table Linen Napkins
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Brighten your events with elegant and vibrant charm napkins!
The Spun polyester color napkin, with great functionality and style, is a perfect addition to an enhanced table setting. The wholesale table napkins are made from superior-quality polyester that is soft and smooth. Measuring 20” x 20”, it is perfect for homes, restaurants, banquet halls, and catering events. The premium quality table napkin looks and gives the feel of cotton and provides superior longevity. This polyester fabric is wrinkle-resistant and maintains a crisp appearance even after multiple washes. It is outstanding with its color retention property which assures that its vivid hue will remain appealing and fresh over time. It offers a good balance between softness and durability, providing a luxurious feel without compromising the functionality. The high absorbency of the polyester table linen makes it easy to handle spills and messes, adding convenience to the aesthetics. Available in a wide range of colors that can complement diverse table settings and themes. It is easy to maintain, thus saving your effort and time.
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Do It For Me ; L.HS
beg me to stop, i promise i’ll love you if you do it, so do it for me
Pairing: Advisor!Heeseung x F!Princess!Reader
Synopsis: To all the subjects, all the servants, and all other royalty, you’re next in line for the throne. You’re a Princess, their Princess. However, in the depths of the night, far away in another tower, you’re nothing but a filthy, sluty, whore. Master to all, servant to one.
Warnings: porn with plot (little plot), SMUT, p in v, MDNI, fluff, minor angst, lowkey (highkey) master/servant/ownership themes, learned new things about myself tbh, unprotected sex (don’t), switch!heeseung, switch!reader, lots of kissing, genuine trust, all consensual, both are freaks, praise & degradation, abuse of authority (both into it), minor exhibitionism, choking, oral (both), sweat kink, mentions of death & hell & religion (brief), reader has big boobs bcuz i do (not sorry), biting, spit (lots of it), reader has hair long enough to pull, brief lactation kink, crying, overstimulation, 11.9k words
A/N: Well. I didn't think my comeback would be linked to a five second hentai scene I stumbled across, but alas, here we are. This is for my girls, my freakhoonz, who have been so patient with me. I'm pretty proud of this one, actually.
The morning sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows of the castle’s grand dining hall, painting the ancient stone walls with golden hues. The air was crisp, the faint scent of lavender from the nearby gardens carried in on the light breeze.
Despite the magnificence of the room–the high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes, the crystal chandelier that sparkled like captured starlight–it felt eerily empty.
You sat at the center of the impossibly long mahogany dining table, a gown of soft ivory silk pooled around you, delicate lace cuffs brushing against your wrists as you reached for your teacup, the scent of chai wafting through the air. The delicate porcelain looked almost fragile in your hands, a stark contrast to the quiet stiffness in your posture.
You glanced up briefly at the empty seats surrounding you, expression unreadable. The solitude of the grand room seemed to weigh heavily but you bore it with practiced grace, familiar with the chilling quietness that had long seeped into your bones.
Behind you stood your advisor, his figure tall and shadow-like in the glow of the morning light. He remained still, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his brown eyes watchful. “You’ve hardly touched your breakfast, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low, measured.
You sighed softly, setting your teacup down with a faint clink. “I’m not that hungry,” you replied, tone polite but distant. You toyed with the edge of your napkin, gaze drifting toward the massive windows. Beyond them, the lush gardens stretched endlessly, the vibrant colors of the blooms concentrated well with the muted grays and browns of the castle’s interior.
Servants moved quietly around the room, their footsteps muffled by thick rugs. A maid approached with a tray, setting down a plate of freshly baked pastries. You nodded in silence acknowledgement before the new, baby pink she was adorned in caught your eye. She barely noticed as she bowed, silently walking away.
You stared at her departing figure, intrigued by her outfit. It was new; with a white, crisp blouse with a lace trim on the collar, the baby pink apron consisted of a full bib that had covered her chest with wide straps that criss crossed along her back, the skirt of the apron was pleated as it rested on the petticoat. In sum, it was beautiful. You had half a mind to call her back, just so you could simply admire the subtle embroidery that you were sure consisted of different floral patterns.
Heeseung stepped closer, his voice softening. “The day ahead will demand much of you, Princess. Perhaps a few bites, if only to sustain yourself.”
Instead of answering him, you pointed to the empty space that the maid had retreated to. “What was she wearing, Heeseung? Has mother changed their uniform once again?”
Heeseung nodded, and although you could not see it, you felt it. “Yes, Your Highness. The Queen suggested something that would lighten the castle. They have just arrived from Japan.”
“Hm,” you hummed. You leaned back in your chair, picking at a sugar cookie. Expression laced with something unspoken and a faint smile, you tilted your head in question. “What do you think?”
“About what, Princess?”
“The maid outfits. Poor things have to wear them all the time, don’t they?”
Heeseung narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, the sides of his lips twitching at the faux sympathy in your voice, hiding your intrigue. “They are certainly prettier than their older garments. As long as they look good, I believe the Queen will remain satisfied.”
Wiping your fingers with your napkin, you folded it in half and set it beside the tray. “You think so? Mother is hard to please.”
“For the sake of the maids, I hope so.”
The faintest laugh escaped you, so quiet it might have gone unnoticed if not for the way his lips curved ever so slightly in response. Despite the coldness of the wide room, the warmth that Heeseung’s honesty provided you was enough, unusually so.
Interrupting the moment, Heeseung stepped forward, placing a folded parchment on the table beside your plate. “The morning reports, as you requested,” he said, his tone reverting to its usual professionalism.
You glanced at the parchment but made no move to open it. Instead, your eyes flickered to his retreating hand, catching the faintest twitch of his fingers. You knew that if you turned back, you would have caught his expression, sure of the soft hesitation that would have lingered.
Instead, you smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Heeseung.”
Before you could pick it up, his voice brushed against your ear. “Would you like me to read it to you, Princess?”
“Would you, Heeseung? I’m not quite in the mood.”
He stepped forward, fingers brushing against the paper before he picked it up. “Of course, Princess. Anything for you.”
His words weren’t unique, they had been uttered a few times an hour daily, but they were different when he said them. There was a certain…genuinity to them, a quiet promise just for you.
You loved it.
Reveled in it, even.
Sighing, Heeseung pushed open the large wooden door to his quarters. He was lucky enough to be liked by the King to receive his own space, no matter how minimal it was, it was his. He could do whatever–whoever–he wanted to.
Rolling his shoulders, he dragged his feet and stretched his neck, rubbing at the knot he was sure was forming. His dark blue tunic was crinkled by the bottom and all he wanted to do was take a warm bath and wash away the dirt of the day.
He pushed his bedroom door open, ready to sink onto the floor when a familiar, too familiar, irritated voice called out to him, draining the tension from his body and igniting a fire in the pit of his stomach.
“Finally!” You stood across from Heeseung, arms crossed. “What took you so long? I requested for father to let you leave the meeting early.”
“Princess?” Heeseung slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it, mouth agape. He was staring at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. He clutched the neck of his tunic, as if his panic was clawing at him. As if you hadn’t found yourself in his bedroom, many times before.
“Well?” You raised your eyebrow. “What kept you?” There was a certain edge to your voice, one Heeseung had heard in meetings and gatherings, the voice of royal blood, companding, booming, and oh so luring.
His throat dried up immediately, blinking once, twice, before you tilted your head and he straightened. It didn’t matter that you stood in front of him in one of the new maid outfits, all tangled and mismatched, strings undone and pieces folded, he still had to answer to you, still a subject.
“The King,” he began, trying to even out his breathing and push all the darker thoughts back into the depths of his brain, “he wanted new territory lines drawn.”
Still standing in the middle of the room, you were a masterful figure, illuminating his room better than the few candles that were littered around his room. “And did you? Help him? Advise him,” you whispered, mocking his discomposure.
Heeseung swallowed, slowly pushing himself off his door. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
Instead of answering him, you simply smiled at him, and his legs almost wobbled at the sight. It was different here, seeing you so close, face to face, when he often spent time behind you, deciphering your moods and expressions by the twitch of your ears and stiffness of your shoulders. Like this, with you standing before him, he almost couldn’t handle it.
You were the prettiest in the land, the most beloved jewel of the kingdom, but standing in the dim light of his flickering candles with disheveled clothes and a curved smile, one just for him–he thought you had never looked more beautiful.
He was almost completely undone.
“Your Highness,” he stepped towards you, “what are you doing here?” He knew. He knew. But he wasn’t bold enough to want it, not yet.
Grinning at his question, you spread your arms and motioned towards your body. “I wanted to try this on. It looked so pretty.”
“Yes,” Heeseung nodded, “it does. But why here?” You were always bolder than him, at least in the beginning.
Your eyes shined with something sinister, something lustful, something he could have been hung for, and he wanted it. He wanted to taste it. He wanted to drown in it.
“To show you, of course. But I seemed to have done this wrong.” You pouted, a bit frustrated at yourself for failing to put on a maids outfit. Surely you were more capable.
Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath at your words, his heart beating loudly in his head. He had an inkling, the smallest of feelings that you would pull something like this but he hadn’t thought about it, hadn't gone as far as to want it, in case he was wrong.
He rarely ever was.
“Help me, will you?” You stepped towards him and smiled softly, peering up at him with shiny eyes. “Help me put this on.”
Heeseung held his breath for a second, looking for any hesitation, any sign that would immediately push all his sinful thoughts out of his mind, but all he saw was pure, unfiltered trust in your eyes. You wanted this, whatever it was, you wanted it completely.
He’d give it to you. Of course he would. He’s never denied before you.
“Of course, Princess.” He reached out and gently brushed his fingers against your arm, igniting a raging fire in the pit of your stomach, and he knew he had you. He maneuvered you closer to his bed, closer to the candles so he could see you properly, before he began undoing the laces and straps of the apron, his nimble, long, and veiny fingers gently ghosting over your skin but never touching.
Breathing in his scent, the mixture of musk, old wood, and his sweat made you want to bite into his skin. You stood still as he moved around you, towering over you as he undid the mess you had made of yourself. His fingers brushed against your skin, nails barely grazing your clothed body, and it was almost enough.
When he got to your chest, you felt him hold his breath and you purposefully pressed further into him, forcing his fingers to graze your erect nipple. You had abandoned your corset, letting your breasts press freely against the cotton material. As he shifted the apron to cover your chest–or as much as he could–you tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck.
Heeseung wanted to lick the exposed skin but he bit his tongue instead. He had to be patient. Right now, he was still your subject. You were still his master, he was yours to command.
After a few moments, he tied the final bow in the back and breathed down your neck for one, quick second before he stepped back.
“There you are, Princess.”
Slowly, you turned around and tilted your head in that endearingly dangerous way and smiled at him, shiny eyes staring up at him. “How do I look?”
Like I should be on my knees worshipping you, he wanted to say.
Instead, he whispered, “Beautiful. You always look beautiful, Princess.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling at his wondrous expression.
“Beautiful enough to serve you?” You fluttered your eyelashes, licking your lips in delight.
Pupils blown wide, Heeseung swallowed his tongue.
“Pardon?”
Smiling at his dumbfoundedness, you moved towards him, grinning when he stepped back. You continued to step towards him until the back of his legs hit the edge of his bed and he fell back, staring up at you like he was afraid you’d eat him at the first sign of weakness.
Before Heeseung could find proper footing, you were sinking to your knees and he suddenly couldn’t breathe all over again. You found a comfortable position between his legs, resting your cheek against his thigh, staring at him as if he was the only thing you wanted to focus on.
Holding himself up by his arms, Heeseung tried to control his breathing. “Princess,” he gasped out. “What are you doing?” He let out a strangled breath when you brushed your smaller, delicate hand against his growing bulge.
“What does it look like, Heeseung? I’m serving you.” You twisted the threads of his trousers before undoing them. His hand landed on yours, almost fervently. He squeezed once and you glanced up at him.
“Tonight,” you whispered against his inner thigh, “I serve you. I’m yours to command.” Pressing a soft kiss to his thigh, you trailed your fingers all over his pelvis.
“My master.”
Heeseung couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t breathed in quite some time and he was surely never going to breathe again. Despite your words, the soft shift of power, he knew that like this, between his legs, you had all the control.
You tapped the waistband of his trousers and in less than a second, he had pulled them off. They pooled between his legs, sinking to the floor and you gathered them before pulling them right off, leaving him completely naked from the waist down.
You started at his ankles, fingers pressing down on his sun-kissed skin, fingernails grazing upwards, watching in fascination as goosebumps erupted on his skin. Reaching his thighs, you spread his legs further, swallowing the whisper of a whimper he released, and kissed his inner thigh until it was littered in little red marks, fading quickly. You kissed his other thigh, licking and nibbling the skin, acutely aware of the way Heeseung had begun to shift under your hold.
Once you were satisfied with the constellations you had etched onto his skin, you lifted your head and almost gasped at the way he was leaking, his tip red and veiny. Mesmerized, you leaned forward, but before you continued, you shifted your eyes to his and found nothing but darkness staring back at you. His bambi eyes, the ones you loved so dearly, had been replaced by something predatory.
Yet, you could see the softness threaded into the crinkles of his skin, the way he refused to move, to touch you, unless you made it clear that you wanted him to. You rested your cheek against his inner thigh and smiled up at him.
“Can I?” Your voice was low, a mere brush of air against his skin, but he heard you. “Please, Hee. Can I?”
Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded. You blinked up at him, unmoving. Swallowing the lust that had clawed its way to his throat, Heeseung tilted his head forward. “Go ahead, Princess.”
His rough, almost choked voice vibrated against your heart and you slowly lifted your head and shifted as close as you could get to him, knees scraping against the wood of his bed. He didn’t know what to expect, unsure of your next moves. He hated being so disheveled, so not-in-tune with you, but he couldn’t complain, not when you leaned forward and pressed your nose against the base of his cock.
Jerking forward, Heeseung barely had enough time to cry out your name before you licked a long stripe from his base to his tip, circling your tongue around him once before you repeated the action once more. All his empty words died in his throat as he released a shaky breath at the feeling of your warm mouth taking him in, engulfing him completely.
Pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, you could taste the salty taste of his sweat and precum. It took over your senses and you shifted upwards, circling your tongue around his tip before sucking, the taste of him took over your senses. Pooling some spit on your tongue, you let it drip down his length as you wrapped your hand around him, using his own precum mixed with your spit as lube, jerking your hand up and down as you continued to press soft kisses around his tip.
Heeseung groaned, his breathing getting heavier as his legs spasmed around you. You put a bit of pressure on his legs with your arms so he wouldn’t move too much, needing the taste of him down your throat more than you needed anything else, so you sucked on his tip harder, slopplier without stopping the motion of your hand.
“Y/n,” his broken voice moaned out.
Your name on his lips made your legs quiver and you looked up to the sight of his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back. His face had flushed pink and a thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead, his hair half brushed back and half sticking to his skin. His chest was rising rapidly and he looked so beautiful, hands clenched tightly as his legs flexed continuously.
Without stopping, you used your free hand, the one that had been pressing into his skin, to grab his fisted hand. His eyes opened at the touch and he watched with amazement as you uncurled his fingers and guided them to your hair. Instantly, they curled around the strands and you hummed in satisfaction, making his cock twitch in your mouth.
“I’m–Oh, fuck,” he whimpered out, his voice cracking, and you pushed him further down your throat, ignoring the burn because the sound of his broken voice was addictive, it was sweeter than the honey farmed in your land, and it satisfied you more than any of your fingers ever could have.
His grip on your hair tightened and you wanted to giggle when he slowly began controlling your movements, pushing your head down until the tip grazed the back of your throat and you gagged around him, squeezing your own legs together.
“That’s it, Princess,” he whispered. He pulled at your hair a bit, trying to give you the opportunity to breathe but you didn’t want to, so you licked along one of his veins and you glanced up at the exact moment his eyes rolled back into his skull and he moaned, loud and raspy and so broken.
Your free hand trailed his skin, sliding up his tunic and you felt the way his abs flexed, the way his thighs shook as his head slowly fell back, the pleasure overwhelming. His grip on your hair loosened further and you licked at the tip once more before kissing his balls, your hand still wrapped around his length, tight and warm.
Heeseung was close to crying, he was gasping and he could feel the coil in his abdomen tighten further as you licked and sucked on his balls, seeing stars and almost losing feeling in his arms when you nibbled at one of them. His chest rose rapidly, almost as if he was a man in his last moments of life. He could feel it, the way every muscle in his body had flexed, constricted against his will.
“Fuck, I can’t.”
Choosing to fondle his balls instead, you licked up his shaft only to suck on his tip, staring up at him, fascinated at the way his adam's apple bobbed painfully against his skin and the way his skin had flushed even more.
When the pleasure became too much, too blinding, Heeseung threaded his fingers back into your hair, and pulled. “Stop.” He pulled until it hurt, until he had pulled you off his dick and it rested against your cheek instead. “Enough.” His voice was guttural, vibrating against your teeth.
You blinked up at him, mouth agape. His eyes fluttered shut at the sight of you; hair a matted mess, lips plump and bruised, eyes blown wide, and his precum and your own drool dripped down the sides of your mouth. He could have cummed at the sight alone, but he wanted to be inside you.
He had to be inside you.
Slowly, his hand slid from your hair to your face. He cupped your cheek, eyes smiling softly when you leaned into his hand. He wiped the drool off your lips with his thumb only to bring his finger to his mouth. You felt your pussy flutter around nothing and he didn’t have to hear it to know you almost whined.
He brought his hand back to your face, trying to ignore the urge to push his cock back into your mouth, and wiped away your tears. You looked surprised, not even realizing you had begun to cry.
“How did I do?” Your voice was hoarse, a bit broken, and his cock twitched. He rarely had the chance to ever hear it like this. He brought his other hand to your face, cupping both your cheeks and forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Perfect. Always so perfect, Princess.” He could see it in your eyes, the need. So he gave it to you. “Serving me so well. You take such good care of me.”
Your eyes lit up at the praise and he almost cooed, despite being on the urge of cumming. If he had this, if he had you like this, he wanted to enjoy it. And, above all, he wanted you to enjoy it.
He was good at giving you what you needed, not just what you wanted.
“Stand up for me, Princess.” He brushed his fingers against your neck. “Stand up.”
Immediately, obediently, you managed to stand on shaky legs. Heeseung’s gaze traveled from your skirt to your apron, eyes focused on your nipples poking through. Despite fixing your attire earlier, it was all twisted and wet now. He loved it.
You looked at him expectantly and he almost gave it up, almost begging for you to take him, to have him anyway you wanted him, but he couldn’t. A bigger, more selfish part of him couldn’t.
“Strip for me.” When you began pulling at the strings, he coaxed out, “Leave the apron.”
Your fingers paused before quickly pulling off the blouse, biting your lip when the cold air brushed against your skin. You pulled down the skirt and kicked it all to the side until you stood in nothing but the pink apron. It barely covered your chest and left your entire backside exposed, but you loved it; loved the way Heeseung’s eyes drank you in, eyes becoming impossibly darker.
“Come here,” he motioned. You moved towards him, stepping between his legs. At once, he was gripping your hips and pulled you in, his face pressing into your stomach. He breathed you in, trying to burn the memory of you like this into his soul, hoping that when he goes, you’d greet him to the gates of hell like this, ever so enticing, so perfect.
Even though he hadn’t given you permission, your hands found home in his long, shaggy black hair. You brushed your fingers through it, loving the length. He looked up at you and you almost, almost, wanted to ring the local church, wanted to tell them they had it all wrong because one of their angels, one of the sinful devils was here with you.
The look in Heeseung’s eyes had changed. You could see it, feel it in his gaze. The way he looked at you now was anything but sweet. He wanted to eat you whole, in pieces if he had to.
“Want to please me? Make me cum?” He spoke against your stomach, the cloth of the apron muffling his words but you heard him. Your knees weakened in response. You nodded, “Yes.”
You could feel the curve of his smile against your skin as he pressed soft, open mouthed kisses to your stomach. You hadn’t noticed his trailing hand until it landed on your ass and he squeezed hard. You almost yelped at the feeling and jerked forward, his other hand steadying you. You held onto his shoulder, his hair, as his hand grazed your backside, fingers drawing circles on the fat of your skin.
At once, Heeseung shifted and lifted his head, looking up at you. His eyes met yours and you both stared at each other, millions of unsaid words, thoughts, filling the minimal air between you both. The way Heeseung looked at you now, like he was staring up at the starry night sky, absolutely bewildered by the stars that littered the sky, it was better than anything else anyone could have ever given you. You’d trade all your fancy dresses, all your jewels, every single piece of gold you could get your hand on for him, just for him to look at you like this for the rest of your life, like you’re something precious, something beautiful, more than just the blood that ran through your veins.
The weight of your look was too much for him, too terrifying, so he caught your wandering hand instead and rested it on his cheek. He leaned into it and you soothed the skin under his eyes, noticing for the first time just how strained it was. Heeseung kissed the edge of your palm before he pushed himself upwards on the bed until his back rested against the headboard.
You watched him closely, watching the way his length still stood hard and tall but he paid it no mind. His eyes were on you. They had and always would be on you. He spread his legs, his muscles flexing before he patted his lap. “Come, Princess.”
Obeying him immediately, you hastily, ungracefully, crawled towards him and his hands, his large, needy, hard working hands, grabbed you, caressing your skin softly as he settled you on his lap, the apron bunching up between your bodies. He paid little attention to his throbbing dick and more to the warmth of your cheeks, the bashfulness he could see in your eyes.
Like the good girl you were, or wanted to be, you kept your hands to yourself and waited for him. Heeseung smiled at your patience and squeezed your hips once before he rested against the wood, ignoring the way it pierced his skin. You were soaking, knowing that your own wetness coated your thighs, making the apron stick to you in all sorts of uncomfortable ways.
“Take off my tunic, Princess. Undress me.” There was something menacing in his soft voice, a slight tease at her, at her skill. Surely a maid like her, a servant, could undo a simple tunic, his voice had said.
You nodded and reached for the tightly done threads, fingers trembling as you slowly pulled and loosened his collar, keeping your eyes on his chest. If you had lifted them, you’d see the way Heeseung was lazily resting against the headboard, the way his hair was a mess, the glint in his eyes that promised demise. He’d kept himself at bay for now, towing the power between himself and you, but when he took it again, completely and unruly, he’d have broken you tenfold.
Once the neck of his tunic had loosened, you grabbed the edge of his shirt and pulled up, smiling briefly at his immediate compliance, lifting his arms. You tossed his shirt to the side somewhere, solely focused on his skin, his solid, glistening chest.
“Go ahead,” he smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. “Touch me.”
Gingerly, you lifted both your hands and settled them on his chest. Heeseung’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your cold hands on his burning body, the way you were gentle as you grazed his toned abs, the way your fingers paused on all the cuts and scars that littered his body.
“Can I?” You didn’t lift your eyes, focused on a new scar right above his heart. Heeseung’s hand travelled from your hip to your stomach and he pushed down.
“Yes.” He swallowed. “Please.”
Gently, like he was fragile, you leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the scarred tissue. His breathing hitched, his grip on you tightened, and he was a complete goner when your kisses became heavier, sloppier, and soon, his entire chest was littered with the remnants of your saliva.
Pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Heeseung lifted your head, his gaze almost scoldering. He looked between your eyes, trying to find any hesitation, before he glanced down at your lips. Unconsciously, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, a habit you had yet to grow out of.
Sliding his thumb upwards, he coaxed you to release your lip and when he did, he pressed down and you shifted on his lap, his length brushing against the apron and he winced, a mixture of pleasure and pain shadowing across his face.
“I’m going to kiss you, Princess.” Heeseung was already breathless, unsure if he was warning you or asking, only wanting your plush lips against his.
“Please,” is all you managed to whisper out. If the kingdom could see you now, begging and writhing on top of Heeseung, a man not of royal blood or even any land. They’d never understand, you decided.
What it felt like to be wanted like this.
Sliding his hand up from your waist to your throat, he wrapped his fingers gently enough to entice you. Your hands laid flat on his chest and you could feel the rapid pace of his heart, knowing he wanted this just as much, if not more.
Pulling your head down, he tilted his chin to meet your lips in the middle. His lips, plush and pink, brushed against yours and you tilted your head, trying to chase him. His grip on your throat tightened and he kept you where he wanted you. He brushed his lips against yours once more, smiling against your pout.
“Pretty thing,” he cooed. “You’ll take what I give you.”
You whimpered against his lips, keeping your eyes on his. You knew he was being generous, knew he was being kind and sweet, the version of him you loved, but it wasn’t the one you needed. You needed him to abuse the power you had easily surrendered.
“How bad?” He asked against your lips, brushing his lips against your chin, nose, cheek. “How bad do you want this, Princess?”
“Very,” you whispered against his lips. “Please, Heeseung.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of your chin. “Begging for me like this. What would your mother say?”
At the mention of your mother, the Queen, you shifted on his lap once more, his length brushing deliciously against your soaked core. His grip on your throat tightened just for a second before he composed himself.
Unsure whether or not he wanted an answer, you parted your lips to say something, anything, and he interrupted you by crashing your lips against his, swallowing your surprised gasp greedily. His lips moved roughly against yours, so perfect, as one of his hands slid down to your ass, gripping tightly as he moved your hips against his, not caring for the way the apron you had on had been completely soaked by now.
His grip on your throat tightened once more and you moaned into his mouth, moving your lips feverishly against his. Heeseung slipped his tongue into your mouth, tracing the crevices of your teeth and gums before sucking on your tongue, guiding your hips so your cunt rubbed against the side of his cock.
His eyes almost rolled back at the lack of air and he pulled back, mesmerized by the string of spit that connected both of your lips. He pulled further away, just to see how far he could stretch the glistening string before it broke, surging forward to lick it from the edge of your mouth.
He licked and kissed down your throat, his hand sliding downwards until both his hands were focused on the bow on your lower back. He pulled it apart as he nibbled and sucked your neck, only pulling away to pull the apron off your head. His lips immediately reattached to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone and your head fell back, trying to pry yourself open for him.
Heeseung bit down on the skin just above your collarbone and you cried out, hands flying to his hair, gripping for dear life. He grinned against your skin and pulled at your own hair, making you arch for him so he could reach your breasts better.
He began kissing down your body, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the skin between your breasts, licking and sucking, swallowing the taste of your sweet sweat, knowing he’d fight a war for the taste.
You were a mess above him, head thrown back and eyes sewn shut, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your lips as you pulled and scraped his hair and the nape of his neck. Your entire body was on fire and you almost couldn’t breathe.
Under a trance, Heeseung pressed a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his fingers brushing the nipple of the other. He kitten-licked your swollen, aching bud before latching on, sucking and kissing, circling his tongue as if he could have convinced your body to submit to him completely, as if he could milk you dry.
His other hand pinched and squeezed your other nipple, before he released your swollen and wet nipple with a pop, not even breathing as he latched onto the other one. All of your senses were going crazy, overwhelmed to the point of hysteria and tears. Heeseung jerked his hips upwards, pulling you impossibly closer and flush against him, his cock sliding perfectly between your soaked folds.
Once he’s sure that he’s marked every inch of you, every inch of your supple skin red and pinched, he pulls away and revels in what he sees. You’re gripping onto him tightly, grinding yourself against him, head thrown back as a sheen layer of sweat coats your throat.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
His voice breaks the trance you seem to be in and you slowly halt your movements and tilt your head forward, eyes locking on his. He pushes himself up, resting his forehead against yours as both of your chests heave. You lean forward and press a swift kiss to his swollen lips, licking his bottom lip. He lets you have it because he captures your lips again, heart beating rapidly against your chest as his arms circle your waist.
“Ready to make me cum?” He asks, voice unbelievably gravelly and hoarse. He knows that if you simply touched him, simply grazed his tip with your fingers, he’d cum like he never has before.
“I need to,” you tell him. “Please, Heeseung. Use me.” You’re so earnest in your words, the way your eyes shine with trust and lust, like he could do anything to you and you’d let him.
A darker, sinister part of him wants to know how far he could go before you stop him.
Heeseung grins at you, a curve of his lips, teeth on display as his hands slide up and down your exposed thighs. “Ride me, Princess.” He watches the way your eyes widen, he can feel the way your pulse quickens, and he wants to be the only person to ever see you like this. He wraps one of his hands around his hard, leaking cock and slides up and down once. “Ride me like the good, pretty little slut you are.”
Your pussy flutters at his words and he can feel it against his legs. He almost, almost, loses it right there and then and has half a mind to flip you over but he needs to prolong this. So, instead, he brushes the back of his hand against your cheek, looking as sinful as ever.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you held onto his shoulders with trembling arms and slowly lifted your knees. Like the saint he could sometimes be, Heeseung gripped the underside of your thighs, helping lift your body.
Exhaling a short breath, you gripped his cock and lined him up with your entrance. The soft scrape of his tip against your pussy was almost enough, but you wanted more, needed more. With his red tip positioned at your entrance, you slowly sunk down, moaning loudly.
The satisfying tightening and burn of his veins against your gummy walls made you both moan in unison, your body falling limp into his as you sunk down completely, the base of his cock hitting your core. The stretch felt amazing, so good, and all you could do was tuck your face into the crook of his neck, biting back a sob.
“Fuck,” he groans out, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping your skin. “Fuck, so fucking tight.” You press a soft kiss to his neck and he jerks his hips upwards, filling you to the brim, his tip reaching parts of you only he had discovered.
“Move,” he ordered, weakly. “Fuck yourself on my cock, Princess. Just like you said you would, like you want to.”
Your head fell back onto his chest and you bit his shoulder, holding onto his neck tightly as you used all your strength to move. He twitches inside you, against your sensitive walls, and you almost cry out. As if sensing your distraught, one of his hands grips your waist protectively and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head.
Lifting your legs, you slowly moved on his lap, sliding him in and out of your pussy. His hold on your waist helped lift you up and down, guiding you to a delicious pace. Once you find your rhythm, Heeseungs hands slide from your waist to your ass, resting there.
He throws his head back when you begin to jump on his cock, his balls slapping against your ass. Your grip on his shoulders is piercing, he can feel his skin breaking as you dig your nails into his skin, the creak of his bed is loud in the room filled with your moans.
You slow down, pressing down on his length to catch your breath. Grinding on his lap, his cock brushes against all your sweet spots, stretching your walls with a familiar enough burn. As you wriggle around on his cock, Heeseung’s eyes fly open and he stares at you with a heavy lidded gaze.
“Tired already, Princess?” He chokes out, trying to be amused but his voice breaks. You don’t answer him, you can’t answer him, so he cooes at you instead and slides his hands up your sweaty body until his hand rests on your throat and he grips it, forcing your eyes open when he presses down with his thumb.
Your eyes fly open and there are tears in your eyes as you try to push him to the brim, needing him to cum inside you before you lose your mind. “Heeseung,” you breathe out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“I got you, Princess,” he whispers against your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I got you.”
He kneads the flesh of your ass before he grips on tightly and thrusts into you. He begins fucking into you at an unsteady pace, your jaw going slack as his tip presses against your cervix with each thrust, making your eyes roll back.
You could feel each and every vein bulging against your walls as he pounded into you, your hands flying to the headboard when his pace became rougher, more animalistic.
“Wanting to serve me,” he mumbles against your throat, licking and biting your skin. “Can’t even fuck herself on my cock for long,” he chastises, spreading your ass so he could fuck into you harder. He bites into your skin sharply, almost breaking skin, and you tug at his hair, whimpering loudly.
He can’t stop his rough movements, his thrusts never faltering as he brings you both closer to your release, abdomens twisting and churning. You felt your ears ringing when he pulled your hair, exposing your neck to him. His lips found home on your breasts, licking and biting as his cock continued to slide in and out of you at an abusing rate.
“Look at you,” he whispered. “Imagine if others saw you like this.” At his own words, his pelvis jerked upwards, grazing that gummy, sensitive part inside you. He’d kill whoever saw you like this. But the thought of his Princess, the Princess, being dumb and sloppy for his dick for an audience made his legs burn.
“Don’t–” You started, voice breaking when he pinched your nipple.
“Don’t want what?” He asked, glancing up at you. “Tell me.”
“Don’t want others to see me,” you whispered. You looked down at him and smiled hazily, eyes unfocused and spit coating your lips.
“Just you.”
Desperation clawed at Heeseung and his thrusts became erratic as he pushed your body flush against him, forcing your hips to match his bruising pace as more slick poured from your legs and onto his lap and sheets, your needy moans mixed with his broken ones.
“Close–I’m, oh,” you stuttered out, eyes closing when Heeseung’s fingers grazed your clit, his own eyes shutting for a second when your walls squeezed him impossibly tight as he pressed his fingers against your clit. He could feel it, the dizzying feeling of euphoria building in his chest, the way it was running through his veins. He could tell you felt it too by your breathing, the way your pussy was weeping for him.
Stars danced around in your vision and he knew his own vision mirrored yours, the tightness in his core was almost unbearable and he tipped his head forward and pressed his lips against yours, smiling briefly when your hold on him tightened. “Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock,” his voice was sweet, borderline crazed.
You fell limp in his arms when he thrusted into you once, twice, right against your cervix, and you had come undone for him, release washing over you, body weak as your legs shook on top of Heeseung’s. His hands were all over your body, caressing your skin to comfort you as your body convulsed for him.
His lips were littering soft kisses to any skin he could reach, and when your walls tightened completely, coating his cock in your cum, he softly cried out your name as warm ropes of his cum filled you to the brim.
You could barely blink, senses still overwhelmed as he kept kissing you, kept cumming, filling you up so well, until you could almost taste him. Quiet praises filled with love and encouragement were whispered against your skin as he remained buried up to the hilt in you, his hips still pushing his cum into you, almost as if he had no control over himself.
Your entire body was shaking and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back gently until your whimpers turned into heavy breathing, until all you could mumble was some variation of his name. He forced his hips to still, forced himself to breathe deeply.
Bodies sticky and sweaty, he ran his hands up and down your back, nails grazing your skin to ground you. He was sure he was still cumming but if he could distract you, keep your attention on anything other than your overly stimulated, stuffed pussy, he’d do so.
“That’s it, baby,” he cooed lovingly, kissing the shell of your ear. “I got you.” He smiled when he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. “Did so well for me, Princess.” You simply hummed in response, unable to form any sentences at the moment. Heeseung rested his cheek against your head, fighting the urge to grind his hips against yours.
You breathed in Heeseung’s scent slowly, head safely tucked in the crook of his neck. The way he held you now, so soft, so lovingly, had your heart settling. You still could barely feel your legs, moaning lightly when his cock twitched inside you. Wrapped around his body, you pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck, sucking softly when he tilted his head to give you more access.
Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck and he shuddered. You could have fallen asleep right there and then, with his cock stuffed safely in your pussy, sticky wetness fusing your both together.
But, as you should have known, Heeseung had other plans. Gently, oh, so gently, he coaxed you up. The movement had you both hissing but he was quick to steady you, quick to brush your hair from your face. You stared at him and his legs wobbled at the look in your eyes. You brought a hand up to his face and traced the length of his eyebrow, brushing your fingers down his nose, and along his nose.
“Pretty,” you mumbled, and he leaned forward and kissed you softly.
It was different, slower, more intimate as he cupped your cheek and tilted his head, lips plush against yours. You moaned into his mouth at the intimacy of it; the way his cock was still buried inside you, the way your mixed juices still leaked out of you, the gentle caress of his hand as he whispered loving praises into your mouth.
Your hand trailed down his face until it rested against his throat. In a surge of confidence, a sudden flicker of realization, you pushed down on his adam's apple and he moaned into your mouth, tightening his hold on you.
Before you could indulge yourself, take back the power you had so easily given way, Heeseung was lifting you, he held you close as he pushed up on his legs and you held onto him tightly as he guided you to fall back on the mattress, his cock still buried deep within you.
You stared up at him in bewilderment and he grinned, a wicked look in his eyes as he leaned over you, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your legs had naturally lifted and he rested them against his shoulders, needing the access. He grinded his hips against yours and smiled devilishly when your walls clenched around him.
“Not so fast, Princess,” he nipped your chin. He dragged his lips down your throat, leaving a trail of saliva. “You’re still here to serve me, aren’t you?” His breath was hot against your ear, voice tantalizing.
You nodded and wriggled under him, needing any sort of friction. He gripped your hips and halted your movements. “Behave,” he mumbles. Just when you’re relaxing against his hold, shoulders loosening and back straight on his mattress, he tightens his hold on your hips and pulls you forward, pelvis’ meeting as his tip digs deeper into you.
Crying out, you clutch his arms, digging your nails into his skin. He stays there for a moment, buried deep inside of you, cock twitching in sensitivity, to catch his breath. He glances up at you and breathes out a quiet laugh.
At the sound, you open your eyes and glance up at him, smiling at the sound. He leans down and kisses your lips softly before peppering small kisses down your neck. He slowly guides your legs back down, settling on either side of him as he kisses down your body, licking and nibbling.
He slowly shifts his body downwards, coming to lay between your legs. When he pulls his cock out of your seeping hole, he watches in absolute amazement as his seed drips out of you. He watched until it stopped, blowing onto your folds just to watch them flutter.
You lay there, mind on overdrive as the immense pleasure from all your muscles begged to lull you asleep. Instead, you dug your hands into his hair and ran your fingers through the matted threads, needing to ground yourself.
Heeseung takes his time as he reaches your breasts, kissing around them both softly before he sucks on each nipple interchangeably. When you moan out his name, he continues on, kissing and licking down your stomach. He presses a wet kiss to your belly button and despite the sensual environment, soft laughter erupts from your throat at the feeling and Heeseung rests his forehead against your stomach at the sound.
He lifts his head and rests his chin on your stomach, simply staring at you. You’re looking down at him, eyes shiny with a small, bright smile on your lips and he can’t help but smile brightly at your joy. He almost says it, almost begs you to accept his devotion, but he simply presses a kiss to your hip.
“I’d go to war for it,” he whispered against your skin.
“For what?” Your hand is in his hair again and your nails scrape against his scalp. “I’d never ask you to go to war, Heeseung.” To get your point across, hoping he could see the mirrored devotion in your eyes, you pulled at his hair so he’d look at you properly. “You’re not going.”
“I would, though,” he responded. He traced different shapes into your skin before kissing you again. “For your laugh? I’d go.”
Before you could reply, before you could forbid him, he shifted downwards and pressed his nose against your cunt, holding down your hips as your legs twitched. You cried out and pulled at his hair but he was adamant, ignoring the pain and pushed your legs further apart.
You squirmed under him as he stared at your cunt before blowing warm air on it, finding your agony humorous. Even now, you could have said that you couldn’t take any more, but he knows you’d be lying.
He spread your legs even further before he kissed your pussy softly. “Such a pretty pussy, Your Highness,” he praises, a twinge of mockery in his voice. He meant it, he loved it so dearly, almost as much as he loved you, but there was something unforbidding in his words.
Here he was, treating the next in line for the throne as his own personal servant, using her until she begs to stop.
Heeseung smiled against you, knowing you’d never ask to stop, even if you needed to. Nothing he could do would warrant such a reaction.
“Hee,” you whispered.
“I know, baby,” he nodded, his nose brushing against your slick folds. “Such a good little thing you are,” he mumbled, the vibrations going straight to your core. “Letting me have my way.”
“Please,” you begged. “Please.”
Instead of giving you what you wanted, he brushed two of his fingers through your pussy, holding your hips down with one arm as he coats both fingers in a mixture of both of your releases. Once he’s pleased enough, Heeseung lifts his fingers to your mouth and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Suck.”
Like a man starved, you latched onto his fingers. He watched with dark eyes as you sucked on his fingers, twirling your tongue around them, cleaning them completely. Just as you’re about to pull his fingers out, he presses down on your tongue, making you gag. The taste of yourself mixed with him has you rutting against his nose.
At that exact moment, he licked a harsh stripe of your core, holding you down as you writhe under him, still gagging on his fingers.
He presses his face closer to your cunt as his tongue pushes in and out of your sopping hole, licking and sucking as if you’re his last meal. You might as well be, knowing what could happen if you’re discovered. That thought urges him to drag his tongue along your pussy, fucking it into your cunt before sucking on your clit.
Tears are gathering in your eyes as Heeseungs fingers remain in your mouth, you’re sucking and licking but he’s still pushing down on your tongue, drool tipping over the edge of your lips.
He traces his name, his devotion, into your gummy walls, his nose pressing against your clit. You moan out a broken, gagged version of his name and arched your back as his nose digs further into your clit, rubbing it until he’s sure you’re all he’ll smell for weeks.
And he will. He won’t clean himself as well, hoping the scent of his sweat and your juices mixes into his skin and it becomes his new scent. It’ll waft through the air of the castle, enticing all, but only he would know the truth.
Heeseung pressed his face even closer to your cunt as his tongue licked and suckled, lapping up all your juices. The taste of himself mixed in with yours has his eyes rolling back, knowing he’d never taste anything that would compare.
The sounds of slurping and his lips smacking around your clit made your legs shake as you tried pulling his fingers out of your mouth, if only to get another taste of your mixtures. He tilted his even further, pushing his tongue deeper within you and you moaned.
He curled the tip of his tongue upwards and you almost screamed, tears falling down your cheeks at the pleasure. “Yes, yes,” you chanted, words muffled by his fingers.
Lifting his eyes, Heeseung hummed at the sight of your pleasure, the way tears prettily fell down your cheeks, and lifted his fingers from your tongue. Before he could bring his hand back towards him, you grabbed it and settled it on your chest. His wet, dripping fingers pinched your nipples, teasing the sensitive skin.
Needing more, you began moving your hips feverishly against his face, grinding down on him. Heeseung groaned into your cunt, making your insides vibrate, as you smeared all your slick over his face, his chin dripping with drool and arousal.
Your sweet scent and taste overwhelmed his mind and he began losing it, rutting against the mattress like a schoolboy, his lips latching onto your clit as he pushed himself closer to your dripping cunt, nose rubbing deliciously against your bud as he slid his tongue in and out of you.
“Seung,” you cry, eyes barely open as you watch him suck you dry. His hand shifts from your chest to the one in his hair. He threads your fingers together and squeezes once, twice, before your legs are pulsing erratically and your walls clench around his tongue. “I’m close, baby, please.”
Heeseung’s brain short-circuited at your words, at the term, and he spread you open wider and licked at you harsher, his tongue inching towards your anus, licking long strips as he teases your clit with his nose.
“Cum, pretty thing,” he edged, lulling you closer to your orgasm.
“Cum all over my face, Princess.”
His words were enough to break you and your vision blurred as you moaned, your stomach coiling and uncoiling as your orgasm washed over you like cold water, soaking you completely.
Throwing your head back, Heeseung continued to push his tongue into your gushing pussy, lips coaxing all your juices down his throat, not wasting a single drop. He licked and sucked harshly, even as you mumbled incoherently about it being too much.
He knew it was too much, it was taking all his power to hold you down, but he needed this more than he needed life. More than he needed anything else, more than even the King could offer him. He needed every last drop you had to offer in his mouth, he needed to imprint the taste to memory, the velvety of your juices healed him, he could feel it, the way his heart had mended and his scars had healed and he was perfect and worthy of you.
His tongue continued to lap up everything that dripped out of you, including his own drool, as you breathed harshly, chest heaving up and down as you tried to pry yourself from his hold. You didn’t really want to break free, you just wanted his mouth on yours so you could taste a bit of yourself again.
Once he was sure he had sucked you completely dry, cleaning your inner thighs with his tongue, leaving nothing but warmth in his wake, he pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You watched him with half lidded eyes as your body twitched with sensitivity.
“So good,” he whispered against your skin. “Such a good girl, cumming for me again.”
He looked up at you and your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight of him; eyes wide and hair wild as your cum and slick coated his face, his sun-kissed skin glowing with sweat as he smiled at you with swollen lips.
He looked so pleased, so completely, irrevocably and ardently in love with you.
He kissed up your thighs and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged. He let you drag him up, let you bring his face to yours and he grinned at the fucked out look on your face, the way your pupils had been blown wide, lips swollen, tears staining your cheeks.
Pulling him down, you looked up at him, his warm gaze meeting yours and you could have sworn you saw a shooting star in his eyes, or, perhaps, it was one outside. Regardless, you knew your wish. You tilted your head up and kissed him, pressing your lips flush against his, licking his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth.
You groaned into your mouth as the taste of him and yourself flooded your mouth. Shifting his body weight, he cupped your cheeks and deepened the kiss, pouring all of his love and all of the unspoken promises he’d keep for you.
You nipped at his lips and his legs wobbled. Resting an arm on either side of you, he held himself up as you kissed him sloppily, teeth against teeth, before you nipped at his top lip, pulling until he whined.
Pulling away, you smiled as you kissed down his throat, needing him. You licked and sucked, nibbling down his throat. With shaky arms, Heeseung tried his best to stay upright, tried his best not to crush your body.
When you kissed his adam’s apple, his hold trembled. When you licked a long stripe of his neck, sucking his adam’s apple until it was red, he collapsed on top of you, his cock leaking against your stomach once more.
You welcomed the weight of his body. He felt so warm; so real, so attainable, you could feel the weight of his muscles against yours, the weight crushed the lingering loneliness that had crept into your bones.
Wrapping your arms around his body, you scratched his back and pulled at his hair as you littered his throat and jaw with kisses. He held onto you just as tightly, afraid that if he let go, he’d be back in that barn all those years ago and you’d be in your tower, and he’d never get to hold you like this.
You both breathed deeply until your breathing synched and everything was alright in the world, you decided. Nothing else really mattered, not to you. Heeseung was here, in your arms, pressed warmly against you and that meant everything would be alright.
You kissed his earlobe, pulling at it with your teeth, reveling in the small moan that vibrated against your chest. It cleared your mind a bit, opened your eyes. Your nails began to dig deeper into his skin, leaving marks.
“Had your fun?” You questioned him quietly, your words nothing but a mere whisper.
Unbeknownst to Heeseung, your lips twitched upwards when his whole body froze. You felt the way his breathing paused, the way his length twitched against your stomach. He could hear it in your voice, in the way you had sucked all the warmth out of the room.
Slowly, as if he was beguiling a predator, Heeseung slowly lifted himself off you, legs still intertwined. His chest peeled off yours and he kept some space between your face. You looked up at him and he glanced down at you, a gentle plea in his eyes.
Cupping his cheek, you rubbed your thumb across his cheek. “Well? Did you?”
There it was, he shivered. Gone was your breathy, submissive voice. The one you loved to use and the one he found so much pleasure in. But this, the slightly deeper, authoritative voice, the one that bounced off the palace walls and negotiated with Princes, this voice could ask for his life and he’d give it. If it asked for his heart, he’d rip it out of his own chest and hand it over.
Hesitantly, Heeseung nodded. “Yes, Princess. I did.” He swallowed and tried for a smile, trying to show how much he didn’t enjoy this, the sudden switch of power, hoping to conceal the way his cock was leaking onto your stomach.
“So polite,” you teased. You trailed your hands up and down his chest, brushing your fingers against his nipples, a knowing look in your eyes when he flinched.
“Your Highness,” Heeseung begins, ready to beg, but you press down on his bottom lip and he loses his footing. Tangling your leg with his, you push him to the side as you flip over, sitting in between his legs as he stares at you with wide eyes.
You smile at him, the laughter in your eyes not matching the way you grab his length and shuffle forward, incredibly close to him. His breathing hitches and you brush your thumb against his tip, bringing it to your mouth, staring directly at him as you suck it clean.
“You’re so good at it, Heeseung.” Your voice is soft, genuine. One of your hands rests on his inner thigh, too heavy on his skin. “So good at taking care of me. At giving me what I want.”
Heeseung swallows, eyes starry and abs flexed at your movements. “Anything for you, Princess. You know that.” He was pleading. Have mercy on me, he was yelling. I’m not as strong as you, he wanted to cry out.
“I do,” you agree. “Tell me,” you leaned down, “do you enjoy having me at your mercy? Is it arousing? Being my master? Being the only one to control me?”
Your voice was too casual, too sultry, he couldn’t handle it. He wanted to cry but his hard on twitched in your hand and you grinned down at him. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” he breathed out. “I do. It’s liberating and I love it.” You, he almost said. I love you.
Your eyes darkened and you nodded, licking your bottom lip. “Me too.” You have me, she could have said. I love you.
“Will you let me take care of you, Hee?” You squeezed the base of his cock and he arched his back, gasping at the feeling. He was so incredibly sensitive, ready to blow at any recond.
He nodded before he spoke. “Yes, yes, Princess,” he mumbled, “Anything you want. I’m yours to use.” His eyes beseech you and you can’t help but loosen your hold on him.
“Mine?” It’s a question you ask every time, every time you find yourself in his bed, in this room, you ask him without fail, and everytime, his answer is the same, genuine and honest.
“Yes. Always.”
A small, soft smile twists onto your lips and Heeseung exhales a sigh of relief. You tilt your head at him and he matches your gaze, staring at you with nothing but adoration. You lean forward and he pushes himself up, meeting your lips halfway.
The kiss is soft, despite the fire behind your eyes. He’s soft as he kisses you, letting you control the pace. Your hand is still sliding up and down his cock, using his precum as lube, getting it ready for you.
You pull back and to remind him that you’re as devoted, you press a soft kiss to his cheek and he falls back with a smile on his face.
You move your hand a few times, enjoying the way his whole body twitches, how hard he tries to keep still for you, before you turn around and you miss the way Heeseung’s head falls back, knowing what’s coming.
Shifting back, you use one hand to line him up with your entrance and your other hand is on his thigh, holding you up. “Beg,” you whisper.
“Please,” his voice immediately breaks out. “Please, Princess. Use me, fuck me.”
His words shoot straight to your core and you drip all over his cock, glad you had turned away, knowing you would have trembled if you had the chance to look into his big, shiny eyes.
Slowly, you sink down on his cock, hissing at the familiar stretch. It's different than before, burns less than before, but it’s still too much, still enough to knock your head back as he bottoms out, filling you up to the brim.
“Fuck,” he mumbles behind you, eyes twisted shut. His arms are behind him, gripping the headboard because he knows, knows you’ll tell him when he can touch you. Right now, you were in control. You needed your royal blood to pump through your veins, regain control over your composure.
“Oh, God,” you moaned out, grinding down on his cock. Your pussy was greedy, sucking him in as if wasn’t filled to the brim only a while ago. Steadily, you pushed yourself up, biting back a groan when his veins brushed against your walls.
Heeseung willed his eyes open, needing to burn the memory of you fucking yourself on his cock, your ass slaming into his pelvis as you used him like he was nothing but a slave, into his brain. He wished he was artistic so he could paint this picture a thousand times and keep them all for himself.
Instead, he writhed and gasped under you, wishing he could see your face. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers along your skin and kiss your lips but he had to behave, had to listen, had to just take it, because you asked him to.
Heeseung watched as your movements began to slow, as your shoulders trembled and your toes flexed every time you had to lift yourself. Biting his bottom lip, his eyes glinted with something primal, something possessive as he waited, and waited, and waited, and then, he heard your choked sob.
“Heeseung,” you cried, drained of all your energy.
At once, like it was practiced, like he was made for it, Heeseung gripped onto your hips and pulled you backwards, flush against his back as he began to slowly rock his hips forward, fucking his cock into you.
Back arched, you moaned when his hand travelled to your throat and he held you firmly against him, tilting your head backwards as he applied just the right amount of pressure to your jugular veins, making you lightheaded as he slid in and out of you at a bruising pace.
He smiled when you whimpered, teeth grazing the side of your throat as he bit down, pressing your ass flushed against his pelvis, the tip of cock brushing against your cervix, making you see stars.
“T–‘S too much,” you babbled, tears lining your waterline as you tried to breathe.
“When will you learn?” Heeseung whispers into your ear, fucking you fiercely. You don’t recognize the sound of his voice, a mixture of his sweet, advising tone mixed with something more predatory, something that has you seeing stars. “Princess to all, but a whore for me,” he breathed out.
You almost couldn’t understand what he was saying, not with the way his thrusts grew blinding. His other hand slid down your body until it slapped your cunt, making you cry out further, arching your back, trying to get away, but his grip on your throat was strong and he kissed your neck softly.
“I got you, Y/n. I’m the only one who ever has,” his tongue licks away your tears, “who ever will.”
He rubs your clit, pushing down randomly and changing his speed as he continues to fuck you, aware of the way your body had given up to him completely, the way you could only mumble his name.
He felt the way you squeezed his cock, making it almost impossible for him to slide down, the way your legs trembled, and he bit your earlobe.
“Cum.”
You moaned as you squirted and came all over his cock, your walls clenching around his walls hard enough to pull his own orgasm, moaning loudly as he cummed inside you, hand still rubbing your clit.
You continued to cum and he emptied himself inside you, the squelching sound becoming louder and louder as your juices mixed and he fucked into you with the same crazed pace.
You babbled a string of words he couldn’t decipher and continued to pump into you, lost in your cunt, unable to stop. You were crying, overstimulated and emotional, and ready to fall back against him.
When he was sure he had emptied himself completely inside you, he slowed his pace and pressed kisses all over your neck and shoulder, slowly halting the movement of his hips. You fell into a slump against his body and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, mumbling quietly to you.
“Baby,” he whispered after a pregnant moment. “Princess.”
You hummed, eyes too tired and droopy to open. He rubbed your stomach soothingly, trying to ground you before he moved. “Are you okay, beloved? Did I hurt you?”
“Okay,” you mumbled, unable to turn to face him. “No.”
“Okay,” he responded. He stayed in that position for a while more, waiting until your breathing had evened out and your body had begun to respond to his light touches. Once he was sure that you were okay, not as stimulated, he tapped your arm three times.
“I have to pull out, my Princess. Can I?” His voice was sweet again, honey and silk against your skin.
You opened your eyes and nodded against his chest. “Yes, pull out.”
Gently, Heeseung pulled out of your sopping cunt, biting back a hiss. He shifted his weight and maneuvered your body until you were laying in his arms, your back pressed against his chest. He knew he had much to clean up, but your eyes still fluttered shut occasionally so he put it off, knowing you needed him more.
He ran his hands along your arms and then your shoulders, pressing into your skin occasionally to remind you that he was right behind you. You snuggled into him, back pressed flush against his chest and he wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Tell me you’re okay,” he asked, quietly. “Tell me three things you can see.”
Licking your lips, you opened your eyes and rested your own arms over his. “I’m okay, Heeseung. I promise.” You lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I see… your hand, the candle I made you, and your bookshelf.”
Heeseung released a breath of relief and kissed your shoulder.
“Come, lovely, let me run you a bath.”
“Later,” you said. “Later.” Before he could protest, you slowly shifted in his arms until you were face-to-face, chests pressed together, hearts beating as one.
“Just hold me, please?”
Tilting his head down, Heesueng brushed his nose against yours and kissed your lips softly.
“Always and forever, Princess.”
#enha!writings#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enha#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x you#enha x reader#enha smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#heeseung drabbles#heeseung fluff#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung imagines#heeseung hard hours#heeseung x you#heeseung x yn#enhypen x royalty#enhypen drabbles#kpop smut#enhypen heeseung#lee heesung x reader
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Day 23 of 25 Days of Christmas: Christmas Party
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Rating: PG
Words: 831
As you and Lewis prepare for the Christmas dinner party, there's a palpable excitement in the air. The kitchen is filled with the fragrant aroma of spices and the rich scent of roasting meats. At the same time, soft holiday music plays in the background, setting a cheerful tone for the evening. You take a moment to step back and admire the efforts that have gone into creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. The table was dressed in elegant linens, with glimmers of shining silverware and crystal glassware, and each piece was meticulously placed.
You glance at Lewis, who is bustling about, adjusting the napkins and ensuring the perfect floral centerpiece. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but smile as he lovingly arranges the table settings. With the gentle flicker of candlelight dancing around the room, it feels like you’ve created a little haven away from the winter chill outside.
As guests begin to trickle in, you warmly greet each one, wrapping them in hugs or a friendly handshake. They admire the decorations—a blend of classic and modern elements that reflect your shared taste. The twinkling lights and tasteful ornaments hanging from the tree add a magical touch, and you can’t help but feel proud of the effort that’s gone into crafting this warm and inviting holiday experience.
The house is alive with conversation and laughter as friends and family gather. You find yourself moving from group to group, engaging in lighthearted banter, sharing stories, and catching up on life as you serve drinks—a delightful mulled wine that Lewis spent hours perfecting. Its rich flavors warm the body and spirit, lifting everyone’s mood.
In the kitchen, the final touches on the meal are coming together beautifully. You can hear the bubbling of the cranberry sauce and the sound of Lewis carving the perfectly roasted turkey. He calls you, “Hey, can you fetch the thyme from the pantry? I think it could use a little extra!” You shouldn’t have to ask twice; you're eager to assist, reveling in the teamwork that defines this special evening.
Once everyone is seated, you take a moment to admire the scene before you. The table is filled with various dishes—golden roasted vegetables, creamy potatoes, and a vibrant salad that adds a pop of color. You raise your glass, and as everyone quiets down, you offer a heartfelt toast. “To family and friends, the memories we make, and the love we share.” Cheers resonate, and the clinking of glasses fills the room.
As the meal progresses, stories are shared over plates piled high with food. Each laugh and smile deepens the sense of connection. You notice a soft glow on Lewis’s face, mirroring your delight. You have created more than just a dinner; you've crafted an experience that brings everyone together, sharing in the joy of these moments.
After the last bites of dessert are consumed—a rich chocolate yule log—you and Lewis clear the table. The kitchen buzzes with the sounds of clattering dishes and playful banter. It’s a joyous chaos, and you both thrive in it. You wash dishes while Lewis dries, swapping tales from the past year and recalling fond memories.
As the evening winds down, guests are reluctant to leave, lingering for a little longer. You offer them coffee and homemade peppermint bark, and soon, the room fills with the scent of brewing coffee mingled with sweet chocolate. Conversations pick up again, and the warmth of friendship envelops you like a cozy blanket.
Lewis grabs his guitar, a tradition you both cherish after a festive meal. As he strums a few chords, others chime in with familiar holiday tunes. You close your eyes for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere of music, laughter, and the comforting scent of pine from the tree, appreciating the love and tradition that make these moments so special.
Finally, you realize how lucky you are—to share these moments, to have friends and family around you, and to have teamed up with Lewis, who, through every detail of the evening, showcased your shared love for bringing joy into the lives of those you hold dear.
As the last guests bid farewells, you and Lewis share a satisfied glance. It wasn’t just the food or the decorations; it was the love and effort you both poured into making this night special for the people who matter most. "Next year," you say with a wink, "we really outdid ourselves!"
He laughs, echoing your sentiment. “Let’s make this a tradition—growing better every year.” With a content heart, you begin to tidy up, knowing that the evening will be remembered long after the last plate has been washed.
As the last flicker of candlelight fades, you reflect on the beautiful gathering you crafted—a holiday celebration filled with warmth, love, and laughter. You realize that amidst the elegance and effort, the bonds formed and memories made truly shine. With happy hearts, you both retire for the night, feeling grateful for the love surrounding you.
#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 imagine#f1#formula one#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#sir lewis hamilton#lh44 x reader#lh44 merc#lh44 imagine#lh44
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#. FESTIVE FEVER
featuring 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
fluff + slight suggestive. what better way to get a festival discount than participating in an eating challenge with the undefeated togame jo, it's on the house.
The delicious aroma of various foods and the sound of laughter and chatter from the crowd at the festival filled your nostrils. You wandered through the bustling stalls, eyes catching sight of Togame Jo behind one of them, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you watched him serve customers.
"Jo-chan!" you called out, approaching his stall. "Do I get a special discount for being your favorite customer?" Togame looked up, his emerald eyes lighting up at your appearance. "Ah, Y/N-chan." he replied his speaking tone even so slow, leaning closer over the counter. "Come to try the best takoyaki in town?”
“You mean the most overpriced takoyaki in town,” you shot back playfully. "You know I can't just give away food for free, but I might make an exception for you if you can beat me in an eating challenge."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "An eating challenge with the undefeatable Togame Jo?"
"Yeah," Togame said with a slight grin, "If you can out-eat me, not only will you get your meal for free, but you'll also earn some special costumer rights."
"Special costumer rights you say..." You thought about it, the offer was tempting because imagine the extras that you will have — free food, drink and to spend time with him. "You're on,"
The challenge began, and a small crowd gathered to watch. Plate after plate, you both ate not backing up, not even drinking water, but to everyone's shock, you outpaced Togame, finishing the last plate with a triumphant smile. He stared at you, wide-eyed, surprised, dumbfounded, and not to mention he was very impressed that you out of everyone beat him in his own game.
"I can't believe it," he muttered, taking a napkin as he wiped himself, then he wiped the corners of your mouth too, making you blush in the process. You were so sweet, so focused on beating him that he had stopped looking at you, you didn't hear it from me but he didn't slow down on purpose, "You actually beat me."
You grinned, getting up from the chair and putting his glasses on, "Looks like I’m eating for free tonight."
True to his word, Togame let you eat to your heart's content, and as the evening wore on, he found himself enjoying your company more than the festival. Flirting back and forth, laughter and playful comments here and there. You knew your worth, and it was clear that Togame was captivated by your confidence and charm — pricey as the takoyakis.
As the festival began to wind down, you stayed to help Togame close up his stall. The night grew quieter, and soon it was just the two of you, as the other stall owners already closed. You sat on the table counter, checking your phone when you felt him standing between your legs.
Looking up, surprised, as Togame gently took your phone and set it aside. He placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it with his now cold fingers, making you arch your back as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, faces inches apart. If Sakura was here he would be a blushing mess, while Suo and Nirei would try to calm him down. You know how he is sensitive to romance, right?
"Thank you for staying, Y/N-chan." Togame whispered against your shoulder, his voice husky. "I’ve never had this much fun at the festival before."
"Neither have I," you admitted, and without another word, Togame leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart raced as you kissed him back, the fireworks began to explode in the sky, painting the night with vibrant colors, mirroring the fireworks in your hearts.
The kiss deepened, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist, pulling you closer. Your body responded eagerly, pressing against him, needing to feel more. Togame's hands slid up your back, his touch leaving a trail of heat despite the cool night air. You could feel his heart pounding as fast as yours, the intensity of the moment making it hard to breathe.
Breaking the kiss for a moment, you both gasped for air, foreheads resting together. His eyes were full of desire and longing, and you could see your own longing reflected in them. "I can't get enough of you," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. You smiled, running your fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer.
"Then don't," you whispered back, capturing his lips again, more passionately this time. Togame responded with equal fervor, the feeling of his lips moving against yours once again, God, you are irresistible, the warmth of his body, and the sheer intensity of the moment made you forget everything else. It was just him and only him.
You melted into the kiss, feeling Togame's arms tighten around. When you finally pulled apart, both breathless, as your faces illuminated the night sky full of colors and emotions. Staying like that for a while, enjoying the peaceful silence and the warmth of each other's embrace. The festival may have been coming to a close, but for you and Togame, the night was just beginning.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
#✧* ꜝ wind breaker#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker anime#wind breaker manga#togame jo#togame jo x reader#togame x reader#windbreaker#satoru nii#togame jo fluff#x reader#wind breaker x you#wind breaker x y/n#jo togame#jo togame x reader#jo togame x you#jo togame fluff#wind breaker fluff
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how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!
thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:
sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.
kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)
rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.
yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.
isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.
bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.
barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.
#asks#blue lock#blue lock headcanons#bllk fluff#bllk x you#bllk x reader#bllk x y/n#blue lock x reader#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x you#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x y/n#kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x y/n#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya x reader#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi#isagi x you#bachira meguru#bachira x reader#barou shouei#barou x reader
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meet cutes | karasuno
a/n so random and not proof read at all. also photographer tsukishima..? idk just seemed like a cute idea lol
characters shoyo hinata, tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima, tadashi yamaguchi
masterlist
shoyo hinata
The bustling city streets were a blur of colors and sounds as you hurried to your next appointment. The air was crisp, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of autumn leaves. Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a vibrant blur of orange hair and infectious energy.
Shoyo Hinata, was out for a jog, his bright smile lighting up the gray morning. His laughter echoed as you both stumbled back, a small leaf fluttering down from your hair. His eyes sparkled with recognition and curiosity, a brief moment of connection in the midst of the city’s chaos.
Without a word, he handed you a stray leaf that had landed on his shoulder, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a silent apology. Your heart fluttered as you watched him jog away, a sudden warmth blooming in your chest.
tobio kageyama
The coffee shop was warm and inviting, a refuge from the chilly winter air outside. You stood in line, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you like a comforting blanket. As you reached the counter, a familiar figure in a dark coat caught your eye.
Tobio Kageyama, was intently studying the menu, his brow furrowed in concentration. The barista handed him a cup just as he turned, and the collision was inevitable. Coffee spilled, a sharp intake of breath, and then the warmth of his gaze as he apologized, handing you a stack of napkins.
His intense blue eyes met yours, a flicker of recognition passing between you. With a shy smile, he offered to buy you another coffee, the simple gesture filling the small café with an unexpected brightness.
kei tsukishima
The quiet hum of the aquarium surrounded you, the soft blue glow of the tanks casting a serene ambiance. You meandered through the exhibits, captivated by the graceful movements of sea creatures. Stopping in front of the jellyfish display, you watched the delicate creatures drift in their ethereal dance.
Next to you, a tall figure adjusted his camera, the soft click of the shutter breaking the silence. Kei Tsukishima, an avid photographer, glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. He focused back on the jellyfish, capturing their fluid motions with practiced ease.
Intrigued, you stole glances at his work, admiring the way he captured the essence of the moment. Sensing your interest, Tsukishima turned the camera towards you, offering a rare, small smile. The aquarium's blue light reflected in his glasses, creating an almost otherworldly effect.
Without a word, he showed you the photo he had taken- a perfect shot of the jellyfish, with your awed expression mirrored in the glass. The quiet understanding and shared appreciation for the beauty around you forged an unspoken bond, leaving you with a sense of connection that lingered long after you parted ways.
tadashi yamaguchi
The small bookstore was a haven of warmth and tranquility, the scent of old books mingling with fresh coffee from the attached café. You browsed the shelves, fingers tracing the spines of well-worn novels. A book caught your eye, but as you reached for it, another hand brushed against yours.
Tadashi Yamaguchi, stood beside you, his shy smile lighting up his freckled face. The moment was fleeting, but his gentle presence lingered as he handed you the book with a quiet apology. His green eyes held a hint of recognition, a shared memory from years past.
As he turned to leave, a bookmark fell from his pocket, and you picked it up, the small gesture filling the bookstore with a sense of serendipity. His quiet thank you and the warmth of his smile left an indelible mark on your heart.
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#x reader#hinata shoyo x reader#shoyo hinata x reader#shoyo hinata#hinata shoyo#hq hinata#hinata x reader#haikyuu hinata#kageyama x reader#haikyuu kageyama#kageyama tobio#hq kageyama#haikyuu tobio#tobio kageyama x reader#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#tsukishima kei#hq tsukishima#kei tsukishima#yamaguchi x reader#haikyuu yamaguchi#yamaguchi tadashi#hq yamaguchi#tadashi yamaguchi#haikyu!!#haikyuu headcanons
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Hello! Can I request TMNT 2012 with Fem! Reader as Mitsuri Kanroji from Demon Slayer? Like how they are going to react to her unusual hair color, strength, appetite and her... Unusual taste of clothes?
If it wouldn't be too much can you also write how they are giving her the high socks like Obanai did with Mitsuri?
I am sorry if this request sound rude and if it's to much for you, you are free to ignore my request!!!! Have a good day/night
Hello, hello! No need to apologize for this request that ended up making me very happy to write. However, I didn't want to put all four in one part, so I decided to do it separately. And I have to admit, it's been a while since I've seen anything from Demon Slayer, but I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡
Pretty Girls Fight Like This! *.✧
It was late one evening when Leonardo first met you, and needless to say, your presence caught him off guard.
You had come into their lives through April, who insisted that you’d be an asset to their team. At first, Leo didn’t understand what she meant. Then, he saw you take down a handful of Kraang droids with strength that rivaled Raph’s, all while laughing like it was a game.
You were... different. Not just because of your insane strength, but also because of your look. Your long hair was streaked with vibrant shades that seemed almost unnatural, your appetite could rival Mikey’s, and your outfit choices? Let’s just say they weren’t exactly “ninja stealth material.”
Leo first noticed your unusual strength during a sparring match in the lair. He had approached the fight like any other, underestimating you just slightly—not in a mean way, but because he wasn’t used to seeing someone as strong as Raph who didn’t have a temper to match.
But then you disarmed him with a single flick of your wrist and sent him sprawling to the ground.
“Oops! Sorry, Leo!” you said, crouching down to help him up, your cheerful smile shining brightly.
Leo stared up at you, dumbfounded. “How... how did you do that?”
You shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been strong. My family says it’s a blessing or something.”
From that moment on, Leo couldn’t help but be fascinated by you.
Then there was your appetite.
It was movie night, and Mikey had insisted on ordering enough pizza for an army. You happily joined in, grabbing slice after slice, keeping pace with Mikey without breaking a sweat.
Raph raised an eyebrow as you polished off your fourth slice. “You sure you’re not part turtle? 'Cause you’re puttin’ Mikey to shame.”
You laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I just love food! Besides, Mikey’s still the champ. I’m just warming up.”
Leo watched you with a small smile, amused by how effortlessly you fit in with his brothers.
What really threw Leo off, though, was your taste in clothes.
You often wore vibrant, eye-catching outfits that seemed more suited for a festival than sneaking around the shadows of New York. Today’s choice was no exception: a bright, pastel-colored ensemble that clashed hilariously with the lair’s dim lighting.
“Isn’t that outfit a little... Too much?” Leo asked, his tone carefully neutral.
You tilted your head, your hair falling over your shoulder like a ribbon. “I guess so,” you admitted, “but I like feeling cute, even when I’m fighting bad guys. It makes me happy!”
Leo didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, silently wondering how someone could be so unapologetically themselves.
It wasn’t long before Leo found himself going out of his way to do small things for you.
Like when he noticed you always tugging at your socks during training because they kept slipping. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but then he overheard you complaining about it to April one day.
“They’re always falling down! It’s so annoying,” you said, huffing. “But I can’t find any that stay up!”
The next time Leo went topside, he kept an eye out for anything that might help. Eventually, he found a pair of long, durable socks in a shop window. They reminded him of something a samurai might wear—simple but sturdy—and he couldn’t help but think of you.
When he handed them to you a few days later, you were surprised, to say the least.
“Socks?” you said, holding them up.
“They’re supposed to stay up during activity,” Leo explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I noticed yours kept slipping, so... I thought you might like these.”
Your eyes lit up, and you tackled him in a hug before he could react. “Leo, you’re the best!”
He froze for a moment, then slowly patted your back, his face heating up. “It’s... nothing. Really.”
But to you, it wasn’t nothing. It was thoughtful, and it made your feelings for him grow even more.
As time went on, Leo found himself admiring all the little things that made you... Well, you.
Your strength, your appetite, your eccentric clothes—all of it was part of the charm that made you stand out. And the more he got to know you, the more he realized that you weren’t just a colorful whirlwind in his life—you were a light he didn’t know he needed.
And for you, Leo’s quiet acts of kindness only made you fall for him harder. Whether it was a pair of socks or a word of encouragement during training, he always seemed to know just what you needed.
It wasn’t long before the two of you became inseparable, your bond growing stronger with each passing day. And as Leo watched you laugh with his brothers, bright and unapologetically yourself, he couldn’t help but feel grateful to have you by his side.
#reader#x reader#y/n#tmnt#tmnt x reader#f!reader#tmnt 2012 x reader#leo 2012#raph 2012#donnie 2012#mikey 2012
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soft junhan thoughts 💭
· this guy loves loves loves getting his hair played with
· it's like, the perfect amount of physical touch for him
· because he doesn't normally like it, you find ways to be affectionate with him in ways he's okay and comfortable with, and just twirling your fingers in his hair, or braiding it, or gently scratching the nape of his neck with a massage is sooo calming and not too much
· and you get to watch him just melt in your hands out of relaxation 🥹😵💫
· ART PROJECTS
· there's always doodling around you two
· he's leaving a note for you on your night stand? there's a cute little happy face drawn next to it. you're killing time waiting for your coffee at a café? he's doodling a little flower for you on a napkin.
· and you leave him doodles back of course. sometimes you'll draw something that accompanies his original drawing, and these are his favorite because you made it together, even if it's just a silly looking cat playing in a field of silly looking, badly scribbled flowers.
· it's one of his favorite ways to communicate with you because it's like your own little language. none of the other members, not even your family, can hear the love in these doodles between you two (and you two only)
· he likes having special secrets and inside jokes with you for sure
· and sometimes when you're both hanging out, you'll draw together. one of the funnier moments is when you decide to draw portraits of one another, and the results... varied, but it was still fun
· nail polish. oh you know exactly what I'm gonna say
· you guys paint each other's nails, usually you're touching up his usual black polish but sometimes he lets you get creative :)
· on the other hand, you love watching his artist brain work and how he uses colors on your nails to create the perfect vibe. sometimes you end up with vibrant polish on every nail, and sometimes you get a very simple and muted color palette. either way you're happy with them because he did it for you :]
· i think junhan values not only creativity in a person, but also values the willingness to discuss things. he likes that you genuinely try to take interest and understand what he's explaining to you, because he's someone who thinks deeply on things and shares that curiosity with the people he loves because he wants to engage with them.
· you really enjoy when he gets passionate and explains things to you because 1) it's cute and 2) he genuinely has lots of interesting takes on things (looks at his bubble messages)
· he appreciates that you even challenge his thinking sometimes because his introvert mind is always in his own head, and having someone to yank him out of his own bias is super refreshing!!!
· he shows affection with acts of service so much (since physical touch and words of affirmation are not usually his thing). he cooks for you and will do the dishes AND take out the trash so you don't have to do a thing
· i also think that he's suchhh a secret admirer, like compared to ode who likes to make his love known, junhan is stealing glances at your cute face when you're focused and when you confront him about it he's like
· "yes i was🙂"
· "ooookay...and can i ask why?"
· "oh, i just thought you looked pretty?"
· and you snicker because that's usually something you would just tell your gf, but you don't care. you tell him "you're handsome!" and you can't stop yourself from giving him a little peck on the cheek, to which he starts cutely giggling back
· you and junhan are so very tender and patient with one another, listening and valuing one another's time, truly the perfect pair!!!
· he has a 4 cut photo of you two tacked above his desk, sometimes when he's writing lyrics he looks up for inspiration :)
· just admires and respects you so much🥺💖
#I KNOW I JUST POSTED THE ODE ONE#BUT I COULDNT GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD#i will fall asleep now for sure#riya lovemail#xdh imagines#xdh x reader#xdinary heroes x reader#xdinary heroes imagines#junhan x reader#— plutoenjoyer 𓇬
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souls further entwined
(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)
a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep
word count: roughly 2.5k
warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!
The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around. The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.
You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.
With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole.
God you’d been so excited.
From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut.
Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,
“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”
That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,
“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”
“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”
“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from.
“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.
All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.
“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family.
“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.”
That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.
“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.”
Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.
“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,”
“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.
You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.
Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.
Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it.
They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway.
“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood.
Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could.
“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you.
After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his.
“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,
“Yes, ma'am.”
—
After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink.
You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.
He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.
“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully.
“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”
“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”
“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.”
“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far.
“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.
“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.”
The shithead just smirked.
“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.
Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.
It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.
As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.
As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle.
You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing.
—
It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you.
Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap.
The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content.
“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.
“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.
“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had.
It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further.
Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words.
His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.
With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house.
“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,
“I would.”
The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris.
a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!
#reds-writings#rust cohle#true detective#true detective season 1#rust cohle x reader#writer blog#rust cohle imagine#true detective imagine#matthew mcconaughey#jj universe
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Oikawa loves eating just as much as he enjoys photographing his food. He has an entire album dedicated exclusively to this hobby, brimming with vibrant, perfectly framed dishes. The album showcases traditional meals from various countries, though, unsurprisingly, Japanese and Argentine dishes dominate the collection. His photography isn't limited to restaurant tastings; it also highlights the finest homemade recipes crafted in his own kitchen.
However, there's an intriguing pattern that his fans have noticed. These photographs only appear for several consecutive days every month and a half, and they always feature two extravagantly patterned bowls, two large plates, two glass tumblers that match the color of the dishes, two immaculate glasses, a pair of scented candles, and two neatly folded napkins placed under two sets of golden chopsticks or silverware. Every detail, strategically arranged on a checkered tablecloth that covers a wooden table.
And every time his fans ask about that mysterious second diner, Tooru playfully replies my daddy!! \(≧▽≦)/ despite everyone knowing that Oikawa’s parents only visit him once a year.
And so, the rumor ignites like a summer bonfire when Tooru posts another photo of homemade food and, for the first time, at the edge of the picture, two tanned, muscular arms were visible, crossed over the table, with an Apple Watch wrapped around the left wrist.
And just half an hour later, the bonfire turns into a wildfire with a second photo: Oikawa sitting on the lap of Iwaizumi Hajime, the athletic trainer for Japan’s men’s volleyball team. One arm around his shoulders, his cheek pressed against Hajime’s, smile full of teeth and sweetness, eyes crinkled like crescent moons. Hajime, with a strong arm around Tooru’s waist, and a softer, smaller smile.
The caption read: daddy's home, home for meeee (ღ꒡ ᵌ꒡)(꒡ᵋ ꒡ღ).
...
u can find me on my ao3 🍉
#iwaoi#oikawa tooru#iwaizumi hajime#haikyuu!!#oikawa x iwaizumi#haikyuu#hajime iwaizumi#hq fluff#iwaoi drabble#soft and fluffy#iwaoi soft#haikyuu iwaoi#iwaoi headcanon#iwaoi fluff#iwaizumi fluff#oikawa fluff#oikawa uses kaomojis a lot#tooru oikawa#they are so in love your honor
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Perfectly crafted for memorable moments!
The Harlow 22" Round Napkins are the epitome of luxury and style, designed to elevate your dining experience. Crafted from high-quality polyester, these vibrant, reversible napkins feature a satin finish that adds a touch of elegance to any table setting. Perfect for weddings, events, restaurants, and hotels, they are both wrinkle-resistant and stain-resistant, ensuring a pristine look throughout your event. These machine-washable napkins are easy to maintain, making them an ideal choice for high-traffic venues. The double-sided design offers versatility, while their durable construction guarantees long-lasting use. Whether you're hosting a formal dinner or a special celebration, the Harlow 22" Round Napkins bring sophistication to your table linens.
#Harlow 22" Round Napkins#Luxury dining table napkin#Vibrant table napkin colors#Reversible napkins with satin finish#Napkins for restaurants and hotels#High-quality event napkins#Round napkins#Polyester napkins#Harlow napkins#Wrinkle-resistant napkins#Stain-resistant table linens#Wedding table napkins#Event table linens#Double-sided napkins#Machine-washable napkins
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stolas x reader in which the reader is a lower class demon who isn’t used to all the fancy stuff stolas has and gets frustrated with all the magic
YESSSS OFC LOVE! STOLAS IS MY BABY I WILL PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS 💕💕💕
A Little Magic, A Lot of Heart
You had never seen anything quite like it. The palace was a magnificent labyrinth of opulence and extravagance, a far cry from the dingy, cramped quarters you were used to. From the marble floors that gleamed with an otherworldly sheen to the ornate, magical chandeliers that floated above, the palace was a testament to a world you had only glimpsed in fleeting, envious glances.
You were a lower-class demon, accustomed to the simple and often shabby accommodations of the underbelly of Hell. But here, everything was over the top, from the celestial décor to the glittering spells that adorned every corner. You had been invited by none other than Stolas, the powerful and illustrious Goetia prince, for what was supposed to be a simple dinner. However, navigating this world of magic and grandeur had proven to be anything but simple.
"Could you please help me with this?" you called out in frustration, struggling to hold onto the floating napkin that refused to stay in place as it danced around your head like an uncooperative butterfly.
Stolas, perched elegantly on his gilded throne with a bemused expression, flicked his wrist casually. The napkin stilled and gently floated down to your hand, neatly folded as if it had never been a nuisance. His eyes, the deep crimson of a setting sun, twinkled with amusement.
“Ah, it appears the magic is giving you trouble,” Stolas said, his voice a melodious blend of sympathy and mirth. He glided over to you with a grace that made even the air around him seem to sparkle.
You huffed, trying to mask your embarrassment with a scowl. “It’s not just the napkin. It’s everything! I can’t seem to get a handle on any of this magic stuff. It’s like it has a mind of its own.”
Stolas chuckled softly, a sound that felt like a warm embrace. “Indeed, the magic in this palace can be a bit temperamental. It does have its whims and fancies, much like its master.”
You couldn’t help but crack a small smile at his playful self-deprecation. “Is there a way to make it just… normal? You know, like regular objects that don’t float around or change color?”
“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Stolas teased, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “Magic is meant to be enjoyed, not just tamed. But if you prefer simplicity, I can arrange for that.”
He raised his hand, and with a swift motion, the magic around you began to settle. The napkin rested calmly in your hand, the floating candles stopped their erratic dances, and even the walls seemed to quiet down, their vibrant hues softening.
“There,” Stolas said with a satisfied nod. “A touch of normalcy for your ease. Though I must admit, I do enjoy the way you handle these challenges. It’s quite charming.”
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his compliment. “I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.”
Stolas stepped closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “There’s no need to worry about that. You could never embarrass yourself in my eyes. If anything, you make this grand palace feel more... grounded.”
His words, delivered with such sincerity, made your heart flutter. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” he said, offering you a soft smile. “Your genuine nature is a breath of fresh air amidst all the enchantment. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to spend time with you.”
You looked around at the opulent surroundings, now rendered simple and manageable thanks to Stolas’ intervention. “Thank you. It means a lot, coming from you.”
The prince took your hand gently, guiding you towards a cozy corner of the palace where a small, charming table was set with simple, delectable dishes. “Let’s enjoy a meal together, without any more magical fuss. Just you and me.”
You took a seat, the ambiance now pleasantly unpretentious. As you shared stories and laughter, the weight of your worries lifted, replaced by the warmth of Stolas’ company. The palace, once an intimidating labyrinth of enchantment, felt like a cozy haven.
As the evening wore on, you realized that perhaps it wasn’t the magic that made this place special, but the genuine kindness and affection of the demon who resided within it. And in that moment, you knew you’d cherish both the prince and the little bit of magic that made him who he was.
The night ended with a lingering smile and the promise of more simple, heartfelt moments to come. In Stolas’ company, the grand palace was no longer an overwhelming maze, but a place where love and understanding made every bit of magic worth it.
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The Bakery Crush - PART (1/2)
Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader
summary: Just two fools clearly in love, pining over each other because ... well, they are fools.
words: 3kish
warnings: angst, JEALOUSY, Joel being a fool, smut, pining, age gap, bad puns, heartbreak, 18+
You enjoyed the little things in Jackson. The little fairy lights that brighten up the street and making Jackson almost feel like a magical wonderland, the vibrant colors of the changing leaves in autumn, the sound of the flowing water from the nearby river, but what you enjoyed the most was the smell of freshly baked bread from your little bakery on the corner in Mainstreet.
Shortly after arriving in Jackson Maria assigned, you to baking duty, since you were a professional baker before the outbreak, and showed you to your new working place.
It was a charming little bakery that had been abandoned for years but as you peered through the dusty windows, you immediately saw the potential.
Tommy, Maria’s husband, helped you turn the rusty shop into your dream bakery. You spent countless hours painting the walls a warm shade of yellow, installing new cabinets and countertops, and laying down fresh tiles.
You were determined to make the bakery stand out, a place with a warm atmosphere where everybody felt welcomed. You even found old wooden crates to use as shelves, hung vintage baking utensils on the walls, and added some decorative flowers for the ambiance.
That was a year ago and since then your bakery has become the favorite place of the residents of Jackson and Jackson became your home.
-
You were busy kneading a batch of dough when you heard the familiar jingle of the bakery's bell.
"Hey there, Ellie!" you greeted her with a smile. "How was school today?"
"It was fine," she replied, shrugging off her backpack. "But you know what would make it better? A freshly baked blueberry scone."
You chuckled. "You never change, do you? One blueberry scone for my favorite customer coming right up."
As you handed her a warm scone on a napkin, Ellie grinned mischievously. "Thanks, (y/n). This looks berry delicious!”
You couldn't help but chuckle at her pun. "That's a good one, Ellie. You really do have a way with words."
She grinned. "Thanks, I try. I mean, it's not like I'm rolling in dough like you are." She waggled her eyebrows at you and took another bite of the scone.
You laughed lightly, continuing to work on your dough, "You're too much, Ellie. But you always make me smile, that’s why you my favorite, y‘ know."
"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said with a grin. "To brighten up your day and eat all your delicious scones."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're lucky I like you, kid."
Ellie finished up the last of her scone and sighed contentedly. "Man, that hit the spot. I don't know how you do it, really. Your scones are always so flavorful and yummy."
"It's all about using the best ingredients and putting my secret ingredient in … love." You answered playfully, slightly cringing at your cheesy answer.
Ellie just groaned silently but nodded. "Well, it shows. You know, you really raisin the bar when it comes to baked goods."
Now it was your turn to groan. "That one was a bit of a stretch, Ellie."
"Hey, I can't help it. I'm on a roll today."
You both laughed as she grabbed her backpack and headed over to you to give you a small hug and a quick kiss on your cheek "Thanks for the scone. I’m off to Dina’s. See you, tomorrow.”
And with that Ellie rushed her way towards the exit.
"Take care, Ellie," you called after her with a smile. "And keep those puns coming, kid."
-
It was getting late and you were closing the store front for the day. You packed up the leftover treats from the bakery and couldn't help but think that maybe Joel would want to enjoy them. So you gathered up some pretzel pieces, bread, two scones that Ellie loves, and some croissants and made your way to Joel's house.
The evening sky painted in different hues of orange and pink. The streets were quiet as most people had retired for the night. You walked leisurely towards Joel's house, taking in the sights and sounds of the town you had grown to love.
When you reached the house, you knocked on the door and waited. Ellie opened the door with a surprised look on her face.
"Hey, Ellie. Sorry to drop by so late. I thought maybe you and Joel would want to have some of these leftover treats," you said, holding up the bag of the baked goods.
Ellie smiled, "Of course we would. You know he can never resist them, and neither can I. Come on in."
As you followed Ellie to the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice how cozy and warm their home was. The living room was dimly lit, and the only source of light came from the candles on the coffee table.
“Joel's not home yet, though.“ She said while tearing up a piece of croissant, “I don't know where he is, and it's kind of weird because he's never out this late."
Your eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Really? That's strange. Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back?"
Ellie shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm sure he's just caught up with something. Thanks for the offer, though."
You nodded and headed over to the door, "Sure, no problem. Let me know if you need anything, okay kiddo?"
Ellie nodded and bid you goodnight and you made your way home, in desperate need of a warm shower after a long day at work.
-
You stood under the warm shower, the water cascading down your body, the stream slowly relaxing your muscles, allowing yourself to let your mind wander. Thoughts of Joel flooded your mind. You couldn't help but think about his chiseled physique and his strong, defined features. His nose, perfectly carved, led down to his plush lips that always seemed to be turned down in a permanent scowl.
But then, there was his smile. The one that could light up an entire room, the one that made your heart skip a beat. The way his face changed, softening, and becoming almost boyish, when he talked to Ellie. His soft brown eyes crinkling with laughter every time Ellie tells one of her many jokes. It was like seeing a completely different side of him, that almost felt like was just reserved for you and Ellie.
You let your soapy hands glide over your body pretending they were his big, calloused ones exploring your body. Steam filled the bathroom as your moans and whimpers echoed though the small room.
You drew tight circles on your most aching part while imagining the way his broad shoulders would feel under your hands, and his strong thick fingers, that always seemed to be working on something, replacing yours. His lips sucking and licking on every part of your body, consuming you.
"Joel,” you let out a final moan, your voice not much above a whisper, as you reached your peak, your walls clenching around nothing.
The water started to cool as you tried to catch your breath, bringing you back to reality. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You knew you needed to push these thoughts aside, but a part of you couldn't help but think about Joel and wonder where he could be at this hour. You just prayed that he was okay.
-
The next morning, while you were getting ready to open the bakery, you noticed Joel and Ellie walking in. To your surprise Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bag of coffee beans, which caught you off guard.
"Good morning, (y/n)!" Ellie chirped, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
"Morning, Ellie. Morning, Joel. What brings you guys in today?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
Joel smiled warmly. "I just wanted to say thank you for the bread and scones yesterday. They were delicious. And I thought you might like these flowers and coffee beans as a small token of my appreciation."
Your felt your heartbeat race as he handed you the small bouquet of wildflowers. "Thank you, Joel. That's very thoughtful of you."
Ellie nudged you with her elbow, a sly grin on her face. "Looks like somebody's got a secret admirer… well, not so secret," she teased.
"Ellie, please. That’s enough" Joel gave Ellie a stern look. Ellie just shrugged innocently in return and skipped off to the display case, leaving you alone with Joel.
"Listen, I don't want to keep you from your work. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you do for me and especially for Ellie. And, well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
“Thank you, that means a lot, Joel” you blushed slightly.
“Anytime, darlin’,” he placed his warm hand on yours and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the contact of his skin.
As if reading your mind, Ellie sauntered back over, a chocolate croissant in hand. "What's going on over here? Are you two making googly eyes at each other?"
Joel laughed. "No, Ellie. She and I were just having a friendly conversation."
But Ellie wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. Sure, you were. Well, I'm going to go enjoy this delicious croissant. You two keep doing your thing."
As she walked away, Joel turned back to you with a warm smile. "Don't mind her, darlin´. She's just teasing. But, really, thank you again for everything."
As Joel and Ellie were about to leave, Ellie turned to you, "I almost forgot to ask you if you wanna come to the community hall tonight and watch a movie with us?"
"Really? You want lil’ old me to come with you?" you teased.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Duh. We wouldn't have asked if we didn't want you to come. We're watching this old western movie that Joel loves. You know, to keep up with his cowboy persona."
Joel chuckled. "Ellie, you know I'm not a real cowboy. But, yes, we would love it if you came. “
You grinned. "I would love to come. And I'll bring some blueberry scones."
Ellie's eyes lit up. "Yes! I knew you would say that. Those are my favorites."
-
You made your way to the community hall, the twinkle lights hanging above the entrance, casting a warm and inviting glow. The hall itself was a modest, single-story building with wooden walls and a sloping roof. Overall it was a cozy space and pretty much the center point of your little community.
As you entered the hall, you were greeted by Tommy and Maria , who were standing by the door, handing out programs for the evening's event. They both smiled and greeted you warmly.
"Hey there, (y/n)!" Tommy said. "Glad you could make it."
Maria chimed in. "Yes, we're all excited for the movie tonight. Have you seen it before?"
You shook your head. "No, I haven't. But I've heard good things. Ellie seemed excided."
You made some small talk about the movie and the bakery before you spotted Ellie and Joel sitting in the front row. You made your way over to them, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation.
"Hey, guys," you said, sitting down next to them. "Looks like we got good seats."
Ellie grinned. "Of course, we did. Dad always gets here early to get the best spot."
Joel chuckled. "That's right. Gotta be prepared."
Joel was holding a big bag of popcorn and handed it over to you, your fingers barely touching, sending shivers down your entire body. "’M glad you could make it.” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath lightly tickling your earlobe.
"Oh, I have a small favor," Ellie exclaimed, turning back to you, causing you to abruptly snap out of your trance.
"Dina's birthday is next week. Do you think you could make her a cake?" Ellie asked shyly. “Only if you want of course and only if you have enough spare ingredients. I know it’s a lot to ask from you but Dina is not just any friend … well… she is my friend of course but she is my best friend and special and I want to do something extra special for her. I am sorry, just forget I said anything. “ Ellie was visibly distressed.
You smiled and put a reassuring hand on her arm to stop her rambling. "Of course I can. What kind of cake were you thinking about?"
Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "She loves chocolate. And... wait for it... peanut butter."
You laughed. "Well, it sounds like we'll have to come up with something extra special for her then."
Ellie hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but feel so much adoration for the girl. In the short timespan you knew each other she crawled her way into your heart and became part of your family.
Ellie nudged you. "Oh and look, there's Karen and her grandkids. She's been raving about your cinnamon rolls all week."
You looked around the hall and were surprised to see how many people had shown up for the movie night. There were families with kids, elderly couples, and even a few teenagers.
You smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I'll make some for the next movie night."
The lights dimmed and the movie began, Joel and Ellie sat on either side of you, munching on popcorn and occasionally making side comments about the movie. You were immediately drawn into the Western that was playing, with its sweeping landscapes and rugged cowboys which kind of reminded you of Joel.
About halfway through the movie, a woman sat down next to Joel and began talking to him, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a film. Ellie let out an annoyed huff and shushed her, but the woman didn't seem to get the message.
You turned to Ellie and gave her a gentle nudge. "Hey, now. Let's not be rude," you whispered.
“She’s the one being rude. “Ellie rolled her eyes but quieted down and turned her attention back to the movie.
You on the other hand found yourself growing more and more distracted by the conversation between the woman and Joel. They laughed and chatted, and Joel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company.
Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Who is that woman? How do they know each other? Did he invite her to watch the movie with him? You tried to focus on the movie, but every time the woman laughed, your attention was drawn back to their conversation.
Your thoughts didn’t seem to quiet down and raced through your mind, and you found yourself feeling increasingly agitated. At the corner of your eye stole a glance at Ellie, who was engrossed in the movie.
You strained your ears to catch snippets of the conversation between Joel and the woman and immediately noticed the flirtatious undertones in their banter. The woman was playing with her hair, and Joel kept stealing glances at her. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you watched them.
At one point, you heard the woman mention something about a rodeo, and Joel's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, you were a natural on that bull," he whispered, chuckling.
The woman grinned. "Yeah, until I fell off and almost broke my arm," she replied, playfully punching Joel in the arm.
Then, the woman leaned in close to Joel and whispered something in his ear. You couldn't hear what she said, but Joel's eyes widened, and he let out a low chuckle.
She leaned back in her seat. "What do you say, cowboy?" she asked, winking at him.
The credits rolled and the lights came on, and you quickly stood up and you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You couldn't bear to be in the same room as Joel and the woman any longer. You didn’t care how childish you were behaving or if somebody would notice your weird behavior. The jealousy and hurt were too much to bear in this moment.
You hugged Ellie tightly, not wanting to let go. "Thanks for inviting me, Ellie. I had a great time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ellie looked up at you with concern in her eyes. "Hey, you ok, right?" she asked, sensing that something was off.
You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, of course, Ellie Bellie. Just a little tired," you lied.
Joel and the woman looked over at you, and you nodded in their direction goodbye, unable to meet their gaze, and quickly made your way out of the hall.
Once outside, you steadied your breathing and tried to compose yourself. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you. Afterall, Joel was a free man, and he was entitled to date whoever he wanted. You knew this, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and hurt.
Suddenly the sky opened up and it started to rain heavily. It felt like the world was crying with you. The raindrops were mixing with your tears, and you couldn't tell the difference between the two. The wind was picking up, and you felt cold to the bone. It was as if the weather knew the pain you were feeling and was trying to make it worse.
Your body was shaking uncontrollably, and you felt foolish for thinking that there could have been something between you and Joel. How could you be so naive? Joel was just being kind to you, and you misinterpreted his kind gestures and turned it in some twisted delusional romantic idea.
How pathetic of you for even considering the possibility that Joel might have had feelings for you.
You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together as the rain continues to beat down on you.
At the end of the day, Joel Miller, was nothing more than your stupid little crush.
Part 2
#joel miller fic#pedro pascal#aesthetic#joel the last of us#joel x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#ellie tlou#ellie williams#the last of us hbo#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#pedro is daddy#pedro almodóvar#pedrohub#pedro gonzalez#jealousy
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44 with timdami? if the muse strikes~
the muse struck and struck hard. this ended up about 2k words XD
my brain went "terminal illness? oh! hanahaki 😌" so i hope that's okay <3
there is also not really a... resolution to this. i debated between happy and sad, but, as the words kept coming... i ultimately ended up going open instead <3
thank you for the prompt!
Tim coughs up the first petals on a Sunday afternoon.
He’s sitting outside—Dr Thompkins says he needs more vitamin D, and despite what the others might think, Tim does try to stay on top of his health. Damian is sitting outside too; though not on the porch where Tim is. Instead, he’s sitting under a tree, sketchbook balanced on his knees and Titus lying by his side.
Dappled sunlight dances on his skin, and Tim’s fingers itch for his camera.
Then his throat itches too; diaphragm spasming as he coughs into his arm. Something flutters in his throat; on his tongue. He worries for a moment he’s coughing up phlegm—and then he tastes something… sweet. Floral.
He thinks. He might have preferred the phlegm.
After a quick glance to make sure no one sees, he spits the petals into a napkin. They were likely a bright, vibrant white before they sat in his mouth. A few speckles of blood dot them; vivid even with the darkening of their color.
Tim crumples the napkin, crushing them within.
Then he tucks it into his pocket, takes the rest of his tea, and heads inside.
~
The petals don’t stop coming.
Of course they don’t. Once they start— It’s hard to get rid of them. Tim knows that.
It’s inconvenient anyway.
Even more inconvenient is the way that suddenly, Damian is everywhere, just when Tim wants to avoid him most. Or doesn’t, he supposes, because… he never seems to excuse himself. Not until the coughing starts, anyway, and then he finds a way to leave without calling too much attention to himself.
It’s only a matter of time before one of the others notices something is wrong. They’re all too damn nosy and observant by far—something Tim appreciates when it comes to solving a case, not so much when it comes to butting in his personal life.
It’s also harder to lie to them. Not impossible. Tim’s done it enough that he knows just how to do it best; what each of them needs to hear to make them believe it. He’s practically an expert.
This, though.
It’s harder to conceal.
Especially as the tickle in his throat grows more frequent, his chest growing tighter. The petals get larger, too. It won’t be long before flowers form. As soon as that happens—
Tim will have to disappear.
Oh—sure. He could confess. The flowers in him will wither and die without that built-up longing to cling to. But—
He would have to leave anyway, wouldn’t he? He doesn’t think he could stand it, working day in and day out with him after a rejection. Doesn’t want that cloud hanging over any of them—or to put Damian in that position in the first place. Sure; rejection won’t kill him, that’s a myth, but. For Damian to know that Tim’s feelings ran deep enough that they had taken root and bloomed within him—?
Tim can think of many ways to describe Damian, not all of them flattering, but— Cruel isn’t one of them. Not anymore.
He might accept Tim’s confession in some misplaced kindness—out of pity, and that— Would be worse than any rejection could be, actually.
So no. Either way, Tim has to disappear. At least this way his dignity will be intact.
He always figured he’d have a short life. Granted, the method of death he pictured was different, but— well. Actually. With Ivy around, asphyxiation by flower isn’t really that different from something he could have faced as Red Robin.
There is also the surgical option, too—but Tim would rather die than become unfeeling. While some claimed that the surgery caused only dulled feelings, especially with modern technology, there isn’t enough information for him to be willing to take the risk.
Leaving is best, then. For everyone.
~
Tim does not have as many contingency plans as Bruce—but he comes a close second. Among them, there are many plans for disappearing and starting over somewhere new.
Picking one is the hardest part.
From there? Smooth sailing.
He quietly divides his cases between the others. Some, he offers outright. Others, those less pertinent, he quietly slips onto their systems, as if they had always been there. He does the same with his patrol route.
Tim works with Babs fairly often these days—especially with the blooms growing larger; the coughs more frequent. He blames it on the changing weather, and Oracle is happy enough to have an additional pair of hands. Tim exploits access to her system to make subtle tweaks to everyone’s patrols until his is virtually non-existent.
He also packs. Lightly, of course; just a few things to look at, to reminisce about the past in his dying days.
He has a will, and some pre-recorded messages. He shortens the period of inactivity which will automatically send them; tweaks the messages a bit; and moves on.
Tim allows himself a few indulgences, too—spending more time with the others, not skipping group meals, taking more time off of work. He knows it raises a few eyebrows, but— Tim is practiced at explaining his oddities away.
All in all, it’s quite easy.
And when the time comes—
He disappears, quietly; into the dawning light, when everyone else is tucked into bed. When the city—never truly sleeping—is beginning to bustle again.
Tim burst into their lives with a bang.
He steps out of them without even a whimper.
~
Damian is the first to realize that Drake is missing.
He wishes he could say it was because he noticed—but he cannot. He discovers it when he pays a visit to Drake’s theater penthouse, and finds it empty and cold. Devoid of life.
His home has always been somewhat austere… but this is different.
Damian knows that something is wrong. He is—afraid. He texts the others immediately, asking them when the last time they heard from Drake was. It does not take them long to realize that Drake’s disappearance is unrelated to their vigilante lives; that, for all intents and purposes, it seems to be willing. Which meant— there must have been signs. Damian turns through his memories with a growing sense of desperation.
Drake is—
Complicated.
Their initial relationship was fraught. Damian will take the larger share of blame for that. When he did, eventually, somewhat reluctantly, get to know Drake—it. Changed. He gravitated towards the older man, and his perspective; often unique from either his Father or Richard. He found him a good listener, too, and while he could be dismissive—Damian’s words usually held weight to him.
It—
Was nice.
Up until Drake’s presence started to make his insides squirm. Until he found himself with ears pricked for compliments from Drake. Until he found himself gravitating to Drake’s presence—choosing to take patrols with him even when Richard was in town.
Until he spoke to Jon and realized he had all the symptoms of a schoolboy crush.
He placed distance between them, then. It wasn’t hard, though it hurt when Drake did not appear to notice beyond a few things. But it was better than facing heartbreak.
And then—
Drake drew closer.
Damian kept his distance.
Now… Regret coats his tongue in ash. If he had not pulled away… might he have noticed sooner? Might he have been able to stop whatever caused Drake to disappear?
There is no sense in ruminating on it.
The important thing is to find Drake.
With Oracle in his ear, Damian makes his way to Tim’s Perch. Logging into his computer, even with Oracle’s aid, is generally a tedious affair.
This time it is not.
He can tell by the way Gordon quiets that she likes this no more than he does.
Drake’s face appears on the screen. He looks paler. The circles around his eyes are darker. He sits in the same chair Damian sits in now, wearing civilian clothes. Something comfortable—a t-shirt that should have been thrown out years ago, a pair of leggings that conform beautifully to the curves of his legs.
“If you’re watching this,” he says, “you’ve noticed I’m gone.”
Damian’s fingers itch to pause the recording.
He does not.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s…” Drake’s face scrunches. “...shitty of me to disappear without notice like this. I promise you it was for the best.” He pauses. He looks—almost hesitant.
Damian does not want to hear what he has to say next.
He keeps listening anyway.
“I’m dying.”
Damian’s heart falls to his feet. He thinks he hears it shatter there—a silly, poetic notion brought on by reading too many of Todd’s recommendations, he’s sure, but nonetheless. Blood roars in his ears. He hears little of what Drake says next. Something about pre-recorded messages, spaced out by time, and easily accessed by Gordon.
When Gordon directs him, Damian lets her instructions carry him through.
He sends the messages; all sent to personal devices, save for a few directly to the Batcomputer. And then he makes his way back to the manor. The trip is a blur. He realizes, only when he is seated on the couch, strange looks sent his way, that he has taken a blanket from Drake’s apartment. It is a fluffy purple abomination—a gift from Brown, he’s sure. Rather than explain himself, or tuck it away, Damian unfolds it over his lap; stroking it the same way he does Alfred, when he deigns Damian’s lap a better place to sit than a patch of sun or soft cushion.
Richard’s arm settles around his shoulders, tucking him into his side as if Damian is still small. Normally he would bristle; especially since he is half a head taller than Richard himself. Today he settles without argument, letting the solid presence of his older brother be a comfort.
Brown leans against the back of the couch. Her fingers comb through his hair. He does not fight this either.
Instead he listens.
Gordon has accessed his medical records; a liberty she normally does not take. He has been diagnosed with no terminal illnesses across most of his aliases.
“Most?” Richard asks.
Gordon’s mouth pinches. “There is one. I don’t think Tim knows I know about it—though I wouldn’t rule it out. He went to a clinic in Boston, and was diagnosed with Hanahaki. He picked up medicine, then bought a bus ticket. After that, I believe he shed that identity. I haven’t been able to pick his trail back up… yet.” Gordon says ‘yet’ with such certainty, Damian believes her.
“Hanahaki…” Jason repeats. He swipes a hand down his face. “Fucking figures. One of us would be too emotionally constipated to just get over it and confess, wouldn’t we?”
Damian frowns. He pulls away from Richard’s side, Brown’s fingers slipping from his hair. “Drake left— because he was a coward?”
The words are vile and bitter on his tongue. It is an unpleasant feeling that does not even come close to touching the fire in his chest. There are two cures for the disease of love—
The first, to confess. Face rejection, or reciprocation. Allow yourself, your feelings, to be known.
The second, to have the blooms removed, and risk dulling or losing the ability to feel forever.
To choose death—
“Damian, that’s not—”
“Quiet,” he snaps. He stands, thrusting the blanket at Richard, who takes it with startled eyes. “I am going to find him, and then I am going to wring his neck.” He spins on his heel and stalks out of the room.
How dare he. How dare he.
Damian does not think he has ever been angrier. Drake, who has more audacity and daring and stubbornness than anyone Damian has ever met—who’s passion and conviction and love has held this pseudo-family together even when they were separated by the eons of time—would rather disappear, leave them all to mourn instead of swallow his foolish pride and let someone—someone with whom he has fallen in love—to see the truth of him.
Damian will find him, and his object of affection, and he will tear the words from Drake’s throat if need be.
He does not get to die.
Not like this.
#asks and answers#felinemotif#damitim#timdami#dcu#tauriawritesfanfic#thank u for the prompt!! this was fun :)
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Escape {70} Final
Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader
Warnings: Language, A Tad Bit of Sadness, Fluff
Words: 2,114
Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon
The cold weather wasn’t as extreme as it has been in the past, but today was definitely one of the nicest since the flowers had bloomed and the trees were filling out. A perfect day to have off work, especially with you.
You had wanted to go out and enjoy a nice lunch somewhere, preferably a place with outside seating so the two of you could enjoy the day, and Dean knew exactly where to go. It was a nice little place just up the street from the precinct, the balcony out back was blocked by trees, shielding everyone from the streets and giving a nice intimate setting. Plus, now that everything was filling out and the flowers were splashing the town with color, it was the best place to spend such a beautiful afternoon.
Between everything that has happened in the last year, from almost losing you to practically his own life ending in the hospital and then actually losing his best friend just to turn around and get married and then go back to work after calling it quits for awhile, this felt like the first time in a long time that Dean was able to take a solid breath and not have to rush off and do something else. Plus, looking across the table at you and seeing the way your hair shined under the rays of the sun and the way your eyes seemed so vibrant, he feels like he hasn’t been able to enjoy your beauty for awhile either. Something that tore at his heart a bit.
“You’re so beautiful.” he slips, saying it out loud when all he was doing was thinking it. When your eyes lock with his and your smile shines he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s like having a first date with you all over again, but now you’re his wife. Something he still can’t believe.
Your cheeks darken and your head ducks a bit as you try to hide the blush. You busy yourself with grabbing your napkin from the table and placing it in your lap and it seemed to be just in time too. Just as you did, the waitress came out with your dishes. You had ordered some pasta dish that Dean was now kind of regretting he didn’t get and he had fallen in his usual hole of ordering a juicy burger with extra onions.
“That looks good.” he comments, nodding towards your bowl before snatching a fry from his plate.
“You want to try some?” As you grab your fork and spear a bit of everything, Dean shakes his head, not wanting to steal your food from you. But you’re not taking no for an answer. Cradling your hand under the fork so as to not lose anything, you reach across the table so he can have a bite.
The second it lands on his tongue he’s in love. The flavor is ridiculous and he’s trying so hard to savor the bite. If his burger is half as good as your pasta, then he can’t wait to attack it.
“Good?” All Dean can do is make satisfied groans which of course makes you giggle, getting him to open his eyes again and look at you.
“So good.” he adds when he finally swallows the bite down. He takes another fry from his plate and then he is so ready to grab that burger and sink his teeth into it, but before he can pick it up, he catches another glimpse of you and it has him hold off for another moment. “You okay?”
“Yeah!” you answer with a bit of a startle, but you’re smiling. “Yeah, I’m fine.” A small chuckle comes from you, but Dean picks up the nervousness in it and his concern grows a bit more. “I um…I have something for you.” When you reach for your bag Dean is instantly trying to think of what you could possibly have for him, but the entire thing has caught him off guard. “I was going to wait until after we ate, but…” you pause as you struggle to remove whatever it is from your purse. “I just don’t think I can wait any longer.” you tell him as you hand off a thin square box.
He looks at it briefly before taking it from you, his mind racing on why you got him something. Did some special occasion pass? First date? Some new holiday that he didn’t know about? Was he about to be in the dog house for forgetting something important?
Slowly pulling at the ribbon, the string comes loose and he goes to lift the lid on the box. A card sits on top and it isn’t until he picks it up that he becomes even more confused.
Happy Father’s Day
He has to read over the words again, his heart racing a bit more as his brain begins to figure out why he’s getting this from you. He looks up to question you, but his eyes catch the next thing in the box before he can.
His hand trembles as he sets the card aside and then grabs the soft material. Lifting it, it unfolds and falls open to reveal blue stitches.
My Hero wears a badge
I call him Daddy
The little shirt could seriously be worn on his hand, it was so little. But his heart swelled and without realizing, tears sprung to his eyes.
Again, before he can acknowledge you, he sees another object in the box. A small black and white, grainy picture. No perfect outline of a baby yet, but seeing as you don’t even look pregnant he can only assume you’re not too far along.
“I would’ve told you earlier but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.” you finally speak, making his emotions a little more fierce. He nods lightly, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tries to hold it all in. “That’s why I’ve been so exhausted lately.” you giggle and that’s when Dean gets out of his chair and comes around to you. His hands lightly pull on yours and pull you up from your seat and that’s when he wraps his arms around you. His lips find your cheek and he just holds you for a minute before whispering.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” That’s when he pulls away, his eyes glistening but his smile beaming even brighter. He seems like he wants to say something, but it just doesn’t come out, so he just leans in and kisses you instead.
You’re not sure how long it lasted, but he rested his forehead against yours, telling you how happy he was and how much he loved you before his phone went off. He wanted to ignore it, but you could tell by the regret in his eyes that he just couldn’t.
“Just give me a sec, okay?” You give him a nod of understanding, taking your seat again as he steps away and giving himself privacy.
A heavy breath releases from your chest, one of relief since you’ve been holding this in for so long. At least it felt like a long time. You hated keeping it from him, but you just weren’t sure how to tell him and you just couldn’t stop overthinking it.
Watching Dean pace around while talking on the phone, you eventually get your own alert on your phone. You catch a glimpse of the text before it clears from your screen, smiling softly when you see that Sarah was checking in on you. She had been keeping up with you of course, being your confidant with all this and she knew how nervous you were for not only telling Dean but for what the future held for you now that you were pregnant. Being a first time mom and not planning on it, it definitely freaked you out. But she was definitely a great rock for you up to this point.
How’s it goin?
Another breath of relief leaves your body, taking some more stress with it as you text her back.
Wonderful
-
2 Years Later
The chill in the air was almost comforting so Dean was in no hurry to get back to the car. Looking over the engraved letters and numbers, memories flashed in his brain. Some happy and others not so much. He tried not to think back to the last day Eddie was on this earth, but it was hard not to. Seeing that date, he just remembered looking for you and then knowing that while he was dying on the ground in the barn, Eddie was out in the woods, protecting you.
Little scuffles got him clearing his throat and quickly wiping at his eyes before looking over and smiling at the toddler waddling in his direction. Walking was a skill that was mastered about a year prior, but being so little, walking through thick damp grass was something the little one took a bit slower.
“Hey, buddy.” His little arms reached out for his dad, making all three smiles grow. But the little one only remained in his dads arms briefly before moving over to the stone sticking up from the ground. His little hands grabbed the rocky top and he held on for a minute before he laid his head down on it, almost like he was giving the stone a hug,
Dean's heart exploded with happiness and a small amount of heartbreak. There wasn’t a day that went by that Dean didn’t wish Eddie was there to work alongside him again and then after his son was born, he wished he was there to be another loving uncle in his life. But this was the closest the two would get to each other and that's what hurt him the most.
“Awe. You giving uncle Eddie a hug?” you say with a smile, walking up to the two boys. Dean looks up, his smile growing as he looks you over. Your hand runs over your slightly swollen belly as you grin at your son who is now wrapping his little arms around the top of the stone. “That’s so sweet.” It’s then that the boy pulls away, but only enough to now kiss the rock. It was definitely hard for Dean to hold himself together then, but he did. “Yep. We love you, huh?” When you squat down next to Dean, your son walks up to you, letting you take him in your arms while the three of you visit your fallen friend. A few minutes go by when your hand runs over Dean’s back and you smile at him.
“We’ll wait for you in the car?” Dean slowly nods, smiling at the two of you. “Okay. Come on, sweetie. Let’s give daddy a minute.” As you get to your feet, the boy leans over your shoulder, watching his dad while you both walk away.
“I wish you were here.” Dean finally whispers. His eyes still on you as you buckle your son in his carseat. “It’s weird because he reminds me of you.” he says as he turns back to the stone, a soft chuckle escaping him. “At first I thought it was just because we named him after you, but…that’s not it. Makes me wonder if you’re watching over him more than I think.” he laughs again and then takes a breath. “Well,” he says, wiping the dirt off the base of the stone. “Happy birthday, man.”
Looking over his friends name one more time, Dean gets to his feet, holding onto the stone for balance at first, but for comfort after the fact. His hand pats the rigid rock, taking another moment before walking away and heading for the car.
Dean made it a priority to go and see Eddie’s grave every week. It’s just what he thought his friend deserved, especially after what he had done for you. But if a holiday rolled around, sometimes that one trip would turn to two.
Dean felt like that’s the least he could do. He felt like he owed him his own life because if it wasn’t for him Dean would have lost you and he would have never gotten married, never had his gorgeous son and never would be living the perfect life he was right now. He had everything he ever dreamed of and it was because of Eddie that he had it.
There was no way he could repay Eddie for saving you that terrible night, but he definitely didn’t let a day go by where he didn’t talk to his friend and thank him for what he did and he never would.
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